by S. C. Adams
“What’s your take on office romances, Ms. Harly?” he asks me, granting my wish and scooting himself forward in his chair just a few inches.
“Call me Kate.”
“Kate, do you believe that office romances can work?”
“I think they’re usually a bad idea,” I answer honestly. “If it’s specifically against a company’s policy, I say absolutely not.”
“And if there’s nothing about it in the company policy?” he wonders.
“I say two consenting adults should be allowed to do whatever they want to or with each other,” I say. “I especially don’t think it’s a good idea if a former employee is accusing you of sexual harassment.”
“What are you saying?” he asks. “You’re not referring to me, are you?”
“I wanted to spare you from having to lie and say you were asking hypothetically. I assume you’re asking for yourself. You’re bad, Mr. Marx.”
“You don’t even know.”
Suddenly, his hands are no longer on a glass of alcohol, a bottle of water, or on his desk. His hands are on my legs, both planted around my knees. He is caressing my legs with his fingers, but I suspect that his fingers will travel momentarily.
“Do you want me to stop?” asks Aiden.
“I’m fine either way,” I reply.
His fingers are caressing in larger circles, touching more of my skin the longer he pets me. I play with my hair for several nervous seconds, debating internally as quickly as I can. I keep wanting to put my hands on his, but I don’t know whether it would be to clasp onto them or to rip them off my legs.
“Aiden, I have to ask: do you do this with all of your new female employees?”
“No, I don’t. Just the ones I can’t stop thinking about or looking at.”
Then, in only a few seconds, his hands slide right up from my knees, past my thighs, and up into my skirt. He quickly finds my laced panties. He strokes the front of them, running the tips of his fingers against my moist opening.
“You don’t think we clicked at all when we met?” Aiden asks me.
I gulp, surrendering to him and putting my hands to my sides gladly. “I did think that, actually, yes.”
He pulls my panties just enough so that his curious fingers can lightly touch my pussy. It is so hot watching him while he has his way with me, with his hands up in my skirt, and his intense eyes locked in a passionate stare with mine.
The feeling of him against me initially startles me, but I love the way he touches me. He isn’t even trying to give me release, and yet I feel like I can orgasm for him at any moment.
“Is this really happening?” I ask quietly.
“Only if you want it to,” he says with caution.
“Can’t you tell that I want it?” I giggle.
“You know I do,” he mutters. “You’re so fucking wet. You feel amazing.”
Can the accusations be true? I know that if I tell anyone about what is happening to me in this moment, they will tell me I am being sexually harassed just like Sarah had been. I don’t feel harassed, though. I’m not sure what to believe, but I know how good it feels to be touched by a strong, powerful man like Aiden. A sexy, dominant billionaire who makes me dizzy just looking at him.
He eventually stands up out of his chair, taking the hand that he used on me and licking his fingers. I lick my lips and attempt to control my uneven breathing.
“You taste good, too,” he says as he returns to his desk.
“Thank you.”
“Well, you know what you have to do,” Aiden says. “Get to work, and let’s get in that children’s wing before the weekend, yeah?”
“Okay.”
I am flustered. My ears feel like they are on fire, and my heart is racing. I’m squeezing my legs together in a fit, rubbing them together to try and start a fire to go along with the heat coursing through my entire body.
“Excellent work already, Kate,” Aiden says. “I’ll talk with you soon.”
I leave my bottle of water behind, along with my own moisture in the seat of my chair. I leave confused, unsure and somewhat flabbergasted.
Even while I work and take care of things during my day, I can’t help but imagine what it might be like the next time we are alone in his office.
3
Aiden
I am able to work well and rest easy for the next few days knowing that I have a warrior like Kate Harly taking care of business for me. On Tuesday, she’s able to get in touch with St. Martin’s Hospital just outside the city and gets them to agree to the event we have in mind of donating our learning tablets to the ill, needy children of New York. She writes the script for my upcoming press conference and gets that booked and taken care of before she goes home on her first day.
I keep her on call for Wednesday while I let the rest of the PR department take care of setting up the arrangements for things while she brainstorms where to take things from the press conference. I have a normal day, go to my meetings, and then I go home early to get a good night’s sleep before the big day tomorrow.
I meet with Kate to get coffee early the next morning before I make my appearance at the hospital. We’ve seen each other a lot on Tuesday, but I missed seeing her the day before. I text her on my way to the coffee shop, asking what she wants so that I’ll have it ready and hot for her when she gets there.
My limo comes and picks us up to take us to St. Martin’s. On the way there, Kate runs things by me: cell phone etiquette, what to say to certain groups of kids, which of them are more serious cases. We run through the details of the press conference (which is being held a block away from the hospital) and get me up to speed. I’m as prepared as I’m ever going to get.
I’m glad to donate the tablets to the kids, but I still feel strange doing it in the midst of my scandal. I feel despicable when standing near the wide-eyed, beautiful youth. I really don’t want anyone to think I’m doing this just to try and look like a good guy. I really do want to give to them.
Fortunately, it all seems to be going well. My appearance is generating a lot of positivity whenever I’m actually in the room. The kids are all ecstatic to get their tablets; all of them are playing on them within seconds of receiving them. I get thank-yous, high-fives, and even some hugs. By the end of it, I almost don’t even care if a camera got any evidence of the donations. I just feel good doing it.
“We are just in awe of everything you’re doing here today, Mr. Marx,” a nurse says to me. “Your spirit, your generosity, and your compassion are unlike anything we’ve seen in this place for quite some time. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you.”
We spend more time at St. Martin’s than we planned, but it’s certainly not a bad thing. I don’t mind making the press wait a little while for me; after all, they take too much pleasure in giving Sarah time to vent her lies and paint me out like a lying rapist, so I give more time to the kids.
By the time we all get to the press conference, the journalists and reporters are already throwing questions at me before I’ve even opened my mouth. I ignore the chattering and stick to the script.
I stand at my podium and speak into the microphones, saying the well-written words that Kate has concocted for me to say to the media. As I’m wrapping up, I decide to enact Kate’s approach to answering questions: answer no less than five, no more than ten; keep it short and keep it witty.
“Mr. Marx,” one journalist asks, “with all due respect, isn’t this tour of good will just part of a publicity stunt for show? The timing is rather peculiar.”
“I realize the timing may seem peculiar, but I’m not going to stop living my life or conducting my business just because Sarah Blackburn is looking for publicity and attention,” I retort. “I’ve been planning on donating to this very hospital for a long time now. I’ve always wanted to give once I could afford to do so, and I can pretty much afford everything now.”
I get a few light laughs in the audience.
“I’ve been putting off dona
ting for a long time, and I have no excuse whatsoever,” I continue, going slightly off the script. “A friend of mine recently told me that there is no reason to push this off even further, just because of made-up nonsense. The children are more important, and our gifts today will ensure that they can learn, play, and grow even when they have to spend time at the hospital. I’m very happy to do this.”
“Why would Sarah Blackburn lie?” a reporter asks.
“I honestly don’t know why,” I reply. “Sarah has been known to sleep with men and get them fired—ask the two Ivy League professors that she got fired.”
This line confuses the crowd and spreads intrigue.
“I’m not here to talk about Sarah Blackburn,” I say slyly. “I’m holding this press conference today because I’m here to say I’m not hiding anymore. Sarah is lying to you all. The same way she lied to me and a lot of other people. Now really, please, let’s stick to Tech Wreck or St. Martin’s, shall we?”
The press conference went spectacularly, the publicity that follows is great, and oddly enough, Kate’s prediction about sales increasing for Tech Wreck’s learning tablets comes true instantaneously. From the time the press conference airs and the media spreads the story of me at St. Martin’s, to the moment we clock out that day, tablet sales burst higher than anyone at the company could’ve foreseen.
To celebrate the glorious day and to thank the entire staff for getting everything put together perfectly, I take them all out to dinner that night at Moonbeam Grotto, a fancy and quiet Asian restaurant in Brooklyn. I’d be lying if I say I don’t want the dinner to be just Kate and me, but I’m grateful to everyone who worked that day, and I know that having the other staff members around will help keep things businesslike and not personal.
I eat light and listen in on the various conversations going on at our big table. It’s a pleasant evening and the food is divine.
I notice that my superstar PR head has ordered herself a medium steak with all the fixings and a milkshake. I don’t look over at her too often during dinner—I didn’t want anyone else getting the wrong idea—but I see that she eats her large meal shamelessly and doesn’t give a damn who sees her enjoying her hefty entrée. I love that about her.
After certain members of the staff finish their food, they decide to leave before we are all through. Most of us are drinking, however, and I happen to be one of those people. I agree to give most of my staff a ride home in my limo.
Once I see that Kate’s plate is free of steak and potatoes, I go over and sit down in the now-vacant seat next to her. I know we can afford to have a few moments to ourselves where it won’t raise immediate suspicions.
I lean close to Kate so she can hear me. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together the last few days, haven’t we?”
“We certainly have,” she says before wiping her face and hands with her napkin.
I’m looking her over, finally able to appreciate her outfit. She is wearing another skirt, but it’s much shorter than the one I’d gotten to play with. She has on a nice white shirt that shows off her curves magnificently, along with sparkling jewelry in her ears, on her wrists, and on her ankles.
“You like what I’m wearing?” she asks me.
“I like everything about you,” I say, as if in a trance.
She rolls her eyes and chuckles to herself. She sips her drink, even looking sexy doing that.
“I think you’re amazing,” I profess. “You’re outrageously beautiful, smart, brave, intelligent.”
“You already said I’m smart,” she says playfully.
“You’re so smart, I had to basically say it twice,” I say, trying to cover my mistake.
“Very well,” she accepts. “Anything else?”
“I think my company and I are going to owe you a lot when all of this is through,” I predict. “I just hate that you’re so goddamn hot.”
“I just hate that you probably talk like this to all the girls,” she jousts.
“You won’t believe me, but I’ll say it anyway,” I babble drunkenly. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to have a steamy office romance with you. I don’t want to treat you like a whore when you’re so much more. Unless you’re into that.”
“Oh my,” she gasps.
“I know better than to get involved with anyone I work with,” I say. “I’ve been guilty of it too many times already, and I need to get better. I can’t let my legacy be determined by Sarah’s lies.”
“Don’t think that I don’t want you, too. I want every one of those things you mentioned, but we can’t. It’s just like you say. We just can’t do it. It would be wrong.”
“It certainly wouldn’t be wrong, milady.”
“When you say you want romance, what do you mean?” she wonders.
“I want to take you to more nice places like this,” I elaborate. “I want to take you with me on expensive flights to distant places that you’ve always wanted to see. We could literally do anything in the world right now, and I think that sounds enticing with you at my side.”
“This kind of talk isn’t exactly going to help you not be involved with me,” she reminds. “You’re certainly not making it any easier on me. I want you, too.”
“Perhaps we shouldn’t fight these urges… maybe we should indulge them,” I propose. “I know I have to fight my feelings, but they can’t be denied. I will think of you, and all of the things I want to know about you until I drive myself insane.”
“I didn’t realize that your feelings were this strong,” she says. “Is it really that hard to fight them?”
“It’s so hard, you don’t even understand,” I say suggestively.
“So, which is it? You’re sending mixed signals, boss. Do we not fight our urges, or do we? You sound indecisive.”
“I don’t know what the right thing to do is,” I admit. “There’s something about you that pulls me to you. I’ve only known you for a few days, and already, you’ve become my obsession. This is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, Kate.”
“You’re certainly coming on stronger than I’d anticipated, Aiden.”
“Just wait until we get to the limo, little lady.”
After dinner and drinks are concluded, I follow through and have my limo driver take some of my employees home. We all sit together in the back, continuing to drink and listening to music while we cruise the streets of New York.
Oddly enough, Kate is the last stop on our journey. She lives the farthest away out of everyone in the limo, and it’s the longest trip when traffic is factored in. As each subsequent employee is dropped off at their designated homes, the desire continues to bubble and build up between Kate and me. I imagine that we might finally burst once we are the only two people left in the back of the limo.
After dropping off Adam and the date he picked up at the restaurant, and one of our head engineers at their houses in the Hamptons, Kate and I become aware that we are alone in the limo. We don’t say much during the first few minutes of the drive on the way to her place.
“I’m sorry that I’m the farthest away,” Kate says.
“There’s no need to be sorry at all,” I assure her.
“It’s just, you and your driver have to go so far just for me. I really wouldn’t mind getting a cab.”
“Okay, now you’re really talking like an insane person,” I say. “I offered to take you home, didn’t I? Stop apologizing.”
“You like being alone with me, don’t you?” she asks playfully.
“Listen, you should understand,” I warn her. “If you entice me too much, I’m likely to explode, in every sense of the word. I can barely contain myself right now.”
“You’re just a mess, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I can’t help it,” I say. “I want you.”
“Then, have me.”
Evidently, she can’t help it, either. She pounces on me like a jungle cat, taking initiative like I’ve never seen from anyone else in my company.
&nb
sp; We start to kiss. Immediately, I’m in a whole other world.
4
Kate
Once I start kissing him, I don’t want to stop. His lips are soft and delicious, his hips are slowly grinding into mine, and his powerful influence is seeping into every pore on my body. He is mine, and I am his.
I know how wrong it is for us to be kissing. I realize how wrong it is for us to be involved in any way that reaches beyond our professional boundaries, and yet, the way that we kiss and touch, the way we make out and leave no inch of our bodies untouched is enough to make me feel like climaxing right then. It’s so wrong, but it feels so right to be in that limo with him, which only helps turn me on even more.
I half-expect us to slow down and for him to take me back to his place (or perhaps to a private hotel), but he can’t wait one second longer. Even waiting through the meal was likely enough to torture him.
He flings my shirt off easily, exposing my half-naked body and bra. I look up to the front of the limo, wondering if the driver can see us.
“The screen is up, and it’s tinted,” he says as if he can read my mind. “It’s just you and me, Kate.”
He kisses along my cleavage, gently fondling my breasts from outside my bra. I can’t help but moan as he caresses my body, running his hands up and down my curves. We are both savoring each second that we are sharing together.
I bite his neck lightly, just to see what he will. He responds by dialing up the intensity on our passion. He isn’t just going to tease me or let me get away with only taking my shirt off. We kiss for several minutes, and there is horrendous traffic to help accommodate our foreplay.
“Are you going to fuck me in the back of this limo?” I wonder.
He responds without words, but in a much better fashion. He unhooks my bra with one hand while his other hand is busy pulling my bottoms off.