Full Frontal Fantasy

by Lyla Sinclair

  Ryan came around to my side. “I saw it from the other side but it would be easier to reach…” He pushed me and my chair back gently and knelt between my knees and the desk. It was a huge piece of furniture, so he had to crawl into the space in the middle. When he did, I got a great view of his gray slacks pulling taut over his nicely rounded ass. I realized I should have stood and pushed the chair back to get out of the way, but that was unthinkable with his butt muscles flexing only a couple of feet from my eyes.

  “Got it.” He crawled back far enough to get his head out from under the desk and sat on the floor. “Here you go.” He held the pen up toward me, capturing my gaze in his. When I grasped the pen, he didn’t let go for several long seconds. My insides shook. I pulled the pen from his hand and pretended to examine it for damage.

  “You know I can see straight up your skirt from here?” He smiled flirtatiously.

  I started to cross my legs but he reached up and stopped me, pushing them farther apart…and I let him.

  “Have you always worn thigh-highs?” he asked.

  “The pantyhose trap too much heat,” I replied in a near whisper.

  “I’ll bet they do.” His finger slid up my thigh and hooked into the top of one of my stockings. “I don’t know why you wear them at all,” he said. “You have beautiful legs.”

  I had to do something to stop this now, yet I didn’t budge. “You realize I’m much too old for you,” I said, to trick my conscience into thinking I was taking action.

  “I disagree,” he replied. “You have that timeless quality, like Jane Seymour or Michelle Pfeiffer…” His eyes twinkled mischievously. “Or Pam Anderson.”

  Pam Anderson? I couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of having anything in common with Pam Anderson. I was a brunette who barely filled out a B-cup, after all. I had always thought my legs were my best feature, although I rarely showed more than my calves.

  Regardless, Ryan was so funny and charming it was hard to keep my guard up around him. I really needed to get out of the chair immediately and—

  He pulled the stocking down a few inches, leaned forward and planted a kiss on my thigh, above my knee. It might has well have been my clit by the way that part of my body reacted. My butt contracted, causing a slight pelvic thrust, making it obvious I wanted more. Ryan glanced up at me with smoky eyes just before easing my skirt slightly higher, his lips making contact an inch farther up my thigh.

  I moaned and my eyes fell closed. Now I was like an M&M after it’s been left in the car for a while, all hot and melty on the inside.

  We couldn’t do this in the office. I had to stop him. But before I could gather the willpower, I felt his finger caress my clit through my panties.

  I whimpered. I was way too needy to resist him.

  He pushed my skirt up suddenly and his lips replaced his finger. After a brief caress he began sucking on me through the thin silk of my panties. My entire body tensed. It wouldn’t take much of this for me to come. I’d died and gone to—

  There was a knock at my door. “Celeste?”

  Oh shit! It was Mr. Murray’s voice. I looked down at Ryan in a panic. He managed to back himself under my desk and pull my chair forward in one smooth move. My legs were now crammed tightly against his face.

  “Yes?” I said, pseudo-calmly as Mr. Murray poked his head in.

  “Sorry to interrupt your work, Celeste… Are you alone?” He glanced around. “I thought I heard your voice when I walked up.”

  “That was probably me exclaiming over a mistake I found in this new training I’m proofing.”

  He laughed. “You are quite the perfectionist. Have you seen Ryan around? I need to talk to the two of you.”

  Ryan? Why would he need to talk to Ryan? Why would he need to talk to “the two” of us? Had he heard something?

  “He was here a few minutes ago,” I said casually. It was the truth. He was there a few minutes ago. I just didn’t mention the fact that he was still there. “I’m sure he’ll pop up soon.”

  “Alrighty then. I’ll go to the lounge and get a cup of coffee. I’ll check back in a bit.” The door started to close. I relaxed and began rolling my chair back. The door popped open again and I froze. “Would you like a cup, Celeste?”

  “No thanks. I just had one.” I lifted the mug on my desk.

  “Okey-doke. Be back in a few,” he said as he shut the door.

  I looked down at Ryan, who seemed to be stifling a laugh. “This has got to stop,” I said. “Here and now. If we need to talk business, we’ll do it standing in the doorway. Or better yet, email me.”

  The humor left his face completely as I stood and walked around to my door, waiting to usher him out.

  When he got to the door I was already holding it open for him, but he reached up and pushed it shut. “Is this really what you want, Celeste?” he asked, peering intently into my eyes. “Don’t you need to know?”

  I wanted to know. I wanted to know if this thing between us was something bigger—the one special relationship in my life that had completely eluded me up until now. I wanted to know if this was the man I wished for every night when I lay in my bed alone with the TV on to keep me company.

  But I needed to keep my job.

  “No,” I answered.

  He opened the door and walked out without another word.

  * * * * *

  I suppose it was silly to think I could avoid Ryan for long, since Mr. Murray had been looking to meet with us. He’d gotten distracted for a while but by late afternoon I found myself sitting in the conference room, Mr. Murray at the head of the table, Ryan to his right, me to his left, which meant Ryan and I were staring directly into one another’s faces.

  My foot wiggled up and down under the table, releasing nervous energy. What if Ryan had told someone about us and it had already gotten back to Mr. Murray?

  “I need help from the two of you,” Mr. Murray began. “We have a chance at a giant contract from Shelson Inc. They’ve had some major problems there. Well, you probably saw the news stories. With the lawsuits and bad publicity, they don’t want anything remotely like this to tarnish their reputation again. They want every one of their employees trained, from the CEO down to the janitor. AOB trainings—sensitivity, sexual harassment, the whole nine yards.”

  “All their employees at corporate or all their employees in the country?” I asked.

  “All of them. Every last one.”

  “So we’re talking thousands? Tens of thousands?” Ryan asked.

  “Yes, you see why this is so important,” Mr. Murray replied.

  “If we get this contract, you could fund all the expansion you’ve been planning in the technical training area,” I said.

  “Exactly.”

  “What do you need us to do?” Ryan asked.

  I looked at him curiously. He spoke like there was actually something substantial he could do. He was my assistant of four days. He could take notes. That’s what he could do.

  “Well, Celeste, I don’t know if you’re aware, but Ryan spent a lot of time in sales in our New York office before coming here.”

  What? That didn’t make any sense. Why would someone in corporate sales be working as my assistant? I assessed Ryan again. His demeanor certainly matched a confident corporate sales type better than it did an assistant.

  Mr. Murray looked a bit uncomfortable as he continued. “He’s scheduled to be in sales here when Grant leaves in another week or so, to take over his accounts, but we thought you could make use of him in the meantime.”

  Why did I get the feeling Mr. Murray was lying about something? Besides, what he was saying was ridiculous. I’d never met a corporate salesperson who would lower himself to assistant status, even for a short time. “I don’t underst—”

  “I’ll explain it better later, Celeste. We have to get moving at the moment. Everyone else is out of town and Shelson wants a presentation tomorrow. Ryan, I need you to go get this account for us.”

  This was
bizarre. Surely we could call one of our most experienced people back from the field for something this big.

  “And Celeste, because of their past problems, they may want some customization to their trainings. They want you there to assure them it can be done, and done quickly.”

  “Certainly, sir, but isn’t there someone else to do the presentation?”

  I glanced across at Ryan and he actually looked angry at me, as though I should know he was good at this. But just because he could memorize a sex role-play script didn’t mean he could answer questions about this company from top-level Shelson executives.

  “Ryan will do just fine,” Mr. Murray said firmly. “And you’ll be there to help answer any questions.”

  I suppose that part made sense, anyway. If he was going to send this young, less-experienced salesman-slash-assistant out to do the job, it was a good thing he would have backup.

  “Okay, I’ll do my best,” I said. But I couldn’t help puzzling over this completely abnormal situation. Something seemed to be going on that I wasn’t privy to, and that was annoying on a professional level and disturbing on a personal one.

  Just who was this Ryan guy, really?

  * * * * *

  You’d think Gramps nearly catching me—his favorite grandson and heir apparent—under Celeste’s desk would have given me nightmares that night.

  Instead, I dreamed I was back at Fantasm with Celeste. This time we were both naked, except for a pair of high-heeled shoes—on her, of course. I was behind her, sliding two fingers into her pussy to see if she was ready for me.

  She moaned and I could swear I felt its vibrations in my groin.

  “Fuck me,” she murmured as I pulled my fingers from inside her and held them to her lips. I watched her lick her own cream from them as she stared into my eyes.

  My cock entered her on its own, like a divining rod. She was slick and tight…and she was mine.

  “More,” she rasped.

  I filled her completely with my cock. Though the rhythm of my thrusts started out slow and controlled, the excitement of knowing she belonged to me caused me to lose control. I pounded her with such fury, we both fell forward onto the bed. I lost contact for a moment but entered her again immediately, taking everything I’d needed for what seemed like forever, reveling in her moans of pleasure.

  She wanted me. I satisfied her like no other man could. I knew it. I pounded her like a wild animal, frantic to come but desperate to have this go on forever.

  “No, Warden, no!” she cried suddenly. I was confused. Why was she calling me “warden” now that we were together? “Stop!” she yelled. “Flapjacks!”

  I awakened, confused and groggy, but mostly disappointed to realize the last part of the dream was closer to my current reality than the first part.

  “Hello, Ryan.”

  I tried to blink away the sleep but my vision was blurred and the shadows in the room played tricks on me.

  “Celeste?” I called out.

  She stepped from the shadows and stood over me, next to my bed.

  “What—?” What was happening? How did she get in here? How did she know where I lived?

  “I know it’s a surprise, but please don’t send me away.” She dropped her tweed jacket on the floor and began working the buttons on her white blouse.

  I tried to struggle onto an elbow but couldn’t manage it for some reason. Was I drugged? Tied?

  When her blouse and skirt dropped to the floor, I realized her breasts and ass had all been going commando. That didn’t seem like her at all, but who was I to quibble when the woman of my dreams was standing naked in my bedroom?

  “Please, Ryan,” she begged. “I need to be yours.”

  Celeste’s voice—begging me—made my entire body rock-hard. She needed to be mine! She threw back the covers and straddled me, pulling my cock up to meet her pussy. As she inched down slowly onto my shaft, she tossed her hair and her small, round breasts gave a little bounce.

  I couldn’t stand it. I had to take her. She would be mine this time. I rolled us over, pinning her wrists above her head.

  “Say it!” I demanded.

  “I want you, Ryan.”

  I didn’t move.

  “I need you,” she panted.

  I remained still.

  “I’m yours. I’m yours! Fuck me, Ryan!”

  I released her hands and plunged into her all at once. She screamed and wrapped her long legs around my back, her nails clawing at my shoulders. I felt the tension build inside me immediately. I wouldn’t be able to hold off long. The excitement was too much. My entire body tensed, ready to erupt—

  My alarm sounded and I awoke alone, facedown on my bed.

  “Fuck!” I said, noting my rock-hard cock pressing into the mattress. “Shitmotherfuck!”

  I’d been sure I’d awakened before and now I was so angry the dream wasn’t real, I didn’t even want to come anymore.

  I got up and turned my shower on—cold—and looked at myself in the mirror. I’d never been a quitter. My dream would come true, or one damn close to it. Celeste would beg me to make her mine. I was going to make it happen…as soon as I figured out how.

  The shower was where I did my best thinking, so after the cold shocked the hard-on away, I allowed myself some warm water as I went through the whole situation between me and Celeste. Yet for once in my life, I was at a loss as to how to proceed. The stakes seemed too high if I made the wrong choice.

  If I told Celeste the truth before she gave us a shot, she could be angry that I’d lied in the first place and let her believe she could be accused of sexual harassment. Besides, we’d be in the same situation, but in reverse. I’d be the boss—or future boss—and she’d be my employee. If it were some other job one of us could consider changing companies, but my grandfather and I had planned this for many years and Celeste had spent most of her career helping to build this company.

  What was I supposed to do?

  I thought about my older sister. As much as she annoyed me with her unsolicited advice throughout the years, which I was sure I never needed, she was the only person I could think of who might be able to help me now.

  After I got dressed, I called her and small-talked for a few minutes, trying to find the right moment to broach the subject.

  “So, what is it, really?” Lynn finally asked.

  “What do you mean?” I still hadn’t figured out how to explain this to her.

  “I hear that sound in your voice, like you want to talk about something but you don’t.” She knew me so well…or maybe she knew everybody well. She was a psychiatrist, after all.

  “Remember that woman I told you about?”

  “The one-night stand you couldn’t live without?”

  Sure, when she said it that way, it sounded pretty stupid. “Yeah. Turns out we work together now. She’s at the corporate offices with Gramps.”

  “No shit? You didn’t know this before you two…?”

  “Not a clue.”

  “Wow,” Lynn said. “Almost makes you believe in all that higher-power-fate kind of crap.”

  “Yeah, if the higher power had a really mean sense of humor.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s built her career there. Worked her way up. Loves her job.”

  “And doesn’t want to get involved with the boss’s grandson?”

  “She doesn’t even know that part yet. Right now she doesn’t want to get involved with a coworker.”

  “She’s right. Those situations almost always end badly.”

  “Huh,” I said dully. I knew she was right but this wasn’t making me feel any better.

  “Look, Ryan. There are lots more fish in the sea, and you’ve always been quite the fisherman.”

  I released a loud breath into the phone. It was a sound I’d used on her since we were kids to let her know how important something was to me.

  “Is she really that special?” she asked.

  “Would you let this situation st
op you if it were you and Cassandra?” I asked.

  It was her turn to sigh. “Not in a million years.”

  Now I knew we were on the same page. “So, I can see she’s tempted. She feels something.”

  “But there has to be more to it than that to take the kind of chance you want her to take. You have to figure out what she needs and give it to her.”

  “You mean, like a new car or something?” I asked, only half-jokingly.

  Lynn let out an exasperated snort. “This is why I don’t date men.”

  “No,” I replied. “You don’t date men for the same reason I don’t date men—being in the same room with a naked one makes your skin crawl. Now tell me what you’re saying.”

  “I’m saying, everyone has needs. Emotional needs. Physical needs. If you could manage to meet both of them the next time you’re alone with her, she couldn’t resist sticking around to see if this could be ‘it’. Don’t give her what she already gets in her daily life. Give her what she secretly yearns for.”

  “If it’s a secret, how am I supposed to know what it is?” I asked.

  “If you can’t figure it out, then you’re not the guy she needs,” she replied.

  Oh, I’m the guy all right. I would find out what Celeste Phillips needed and give it to her…in spades.

  * * * * *

  Although I’d puzzled late into the night over Ryan and Mr. Murray, and what the hell was going on that I didn’t know, I felt pretty good the next morning as I pulled into the Shelson parking garage. I was in a crisp gray suit with a bright white blouse underneath. I’d managed to get a last-minute hair appointment the evening before. I felt like the picture of competence. Ryan had called to see where I was so we could enter together—no awkward waiting around—but I was shocked when he pulled smoothly into the parking space facing mine in a BMW convertible.

  Then I remembered he wasn’t who he was supposed to be.

  As I got out of my own BMW, I decided not to comment on the car or ask any more questions about the office situation. This was one time we needed to keep our heads in the game. Ryan emerged in a charcoal suit, steel-gray button-down shirt, and a tie that was just a shade or two darker than the shirt. It made for a striking picture. Did he have a stylist?