by Penny Wylder
“I don't own any of that kind of shit. I like to spend my money, but not waste it.”
Pressing my lips into a tight line, I keep going where he cut me off. “It'll all be gone, Phade. All of it. So, my suggestion for you is to keep your pants zipped and your fists tethered to your sides unless you're in the ring. Understood?”
Smirking, Phade tilts his head, reaching out to gently stroke my wrist with his index finger. “Are you sure you want me zipping my pants, because the sounds you made last night tell me you liked it.”
A cold sweat beads up the back of my neck as my blood starts to bubble and my pussy clenches with need. My clit is throbbing, causing me to wriggle in my chair. A wave of warmth spreads across my face, and I know he can see the fire on my skin.
Licking his lips, his smile grows as his eyes darken with lust. “You're wet right now, aren't you?”
Taking in a deep breath, I clear my throat and jolt up out of the chair. “You know what, Phade, these games of yours are going to come back to bite you in the ass. I'm trying to help you so you don't lose your job, but all you can think about is sex!”
“Sweetheart, I'm not the only one thinking about sex. I know what's running through your mind, I can tell by your rosy cheeks, and the way you keep shifting in your chair. Your pussy wants me—fuck, you’re craving more right now.”
Picking up the binder, I hold it tightly against my chest and snarl, “Get over yourself, Phade Manson, it wasn't that good.” Pushing past him, I storm out of the room.
I'm a liar. I lied right to his face. I lied about how good he felt inside me. I lied because he pissed me off.
Phade needs to take me seriously, he can't keep bringing up what happened. I need him to really listen, or it won't just be his ass on the line, mine will be right there with him.
But damn, was that man good at turning me on. His voice gives me chills, the richness of his tone makes my body hum and my heart hammer inside my chest.
He was really fucking good. And he knows it. He doesn't believe me anyway.
My pussy pulses as desire pools in my panties making it hard to ignore. Every inch of my body is fighting against me. My brain wants to forget the guy and just focus on work, but my pussy is begging for more.
The arousal seeps through my underwear, making my inner thighs slippery and warm. I can't ignore the feeling brewing inside me. It's raw, it's overwhelming, it's going to drive me insane unless I do something about it.
Glancing side to side, I check over my shoulder and see the hall is empty. Slipping silently into the bathroom, I deadbolt the door and rest back against the cool brick wall. I don't want to do this, but I know I'll never be able to focus unless I do.
The only way to get Phade out of my head, and to stop the reaction my body is having, is to just give in. Let it win this time, and then I'll be able to control it.
Working my hand up my skirt, I slip it into my panties and start to massage my clit. I'm soaking wet, dripping to the point it's like a puddle between my legs.
Closing my eyes, Phade's face instantly jumps into my brain. The pad of my finger starts to swirl against my clit. I think about how his lips felt on mine when we were dancing, and how his finger felt as he slipped it inside my body.
My own finger slips in easily with that thought. Starting off slow, I move my finger in and out, up to the last knuckle and out to the very tip. Plunging back in, I turn one finger into two.
Faster and faster I finger myself, rubbing my clit as I pull out, applying more and more pressure and then driving back in. A fuzzy warm feeling spreads up my body, and across my stomach. Biting my lip hard, I drop my head back against the wall, and pinch my eyes tighter.
My pussy tightens around my fingers as the heat keeps moving, turning into tingles that liquify my insides. Moaning softly, I hold my fingers against my clit and let the orgasm work its way through my body.
The feeling fades away, and I'm left with this weird sensation I can't quite understand. I feel good and satisfied after giving myself that release, but I also feel betrayed by my own body.
I want to be in control of my body all the time, and with Phade, I feel like that control gets torn from my hands.
Opening my eyes, I look up at the ceiling and sigh.
I'm so screwed. Phade Manson is going to be my downfall.
5
Sylvia
After a long night of restless sleep with my mind running wild, I open my eyes, not knowing exactly how I'm going to get Phade to conform to the picture perfect version of the man Daniel wants to see.
Daniel wants something I might not be able to deliver.
Phade needs to behave, no more fighting unless he's in the ring. He needs to stop drinking and partying. He needs to stop hopping from bed to bed and settle down. And somehow, I have to pull that person out of this guy.
I have to take this version and make him something he's not.
How the hell am I going to do this?
Groaning, I roll onto my side and stare out the window. My step-father's thrown a wrench in my world. This isn't going to be easy.
Phade isn't a man who likes to take orders—he's a man who likes to give them. The problem I keep coming back to in my head is how the hell can I control him, when I can't control my own body around him?
The thought of Phade Manson makes my heart speed up and my pussy throb. Every image when I close my eyes is of him taking control of me, of him working my body, and making me melt with just his touch.
Stop! Stop thinking about Phade the man and start thinking about Phade the fighter.
Phade the fighter isn't the guy that fucked me in the bathroom. He's not the man who touched me softly, making the hair stand up on my arms and my thighs quiver with need. Phade the fighter works for Daniel. Phade the fighter is my new project.
Fuck! Why can't this project be something easier? Clutching my head, I gently tug at the roots, and run my hands down my cheeks.
I know that he's going to test my limits. He already tried at the office yesterday, and I know he isn't going to stop there. He's a man who's used to getting what he wants.
Phade is more than just a mountain I need to conquer, he's a beast I need to tame.
Grabbing my phone off the nightstand, I check the time. It's five in the morning. I don't have to get up for another two hours, but I can't fall back asleep. I'm wide awake and no amount of tossing and turning is going to help.
Pushing up in bed, I decide to just head to work early. Maybe a little time looking over the plans will help me figure out the best way to approach Phade.
I don't think he truly realizes what's at stake here; his career, his money, his title—his name, all of it will be stripped from him as if it never existed to begin with.
That should be enough motivation.
Grabbing the first outfit I see, I put on a pin straight black skirt, with a silky white blouse, and purple heels. Pulling my hair back, I spin it into a tight bun and pin it place. Splashing my cheeks in light pink blush and rolling on some lip gloss, I look quickly in the mirror one last time, and head out the door.
The ride to work is quiet. I leave the radio off and just drive in silence. There's enough noise in my head as it is, and not much room for anything else.
Punching the code into the keypad, the gate slides open and I park my car. The lot is basically empty, except for a few vehicles that I assume are maintenance. The building is still dark and dormant. It's a little strange to not see it bustling like a hive at mid-morning.
The giant glass door closes behind me as I enter the building, and the sound travels in every direction. Standing still for a moment, I let the room fall back into silence before heading toward the elevators.
Hitting the button, I look up and watch the lights as they pop on for each floor. I keep looking over my shoulder into the lobby, the silence louder than all the voices in the world. It's odd to realize that chaos soothes my mind, but quiet makes it roar.
Glancing to my le
ft, I see the sign for the stairs and decide to take them instead. Moving into the stairwell, I grab the railing and start to head up the steps, when something stops me.
There are other sounds mixing in with the echo of my shoes, different sounds that cause me to stop mid-step on the stair. Pitching my head to the side, I listen. It sounds like voices. . . No, not voices, it's music.
No one's supposed to be here right now.
I know it's coming from the floor below me, so I lean over the rail and listen more intently. The music is rising, starting off low and floating up between the floors. Following the sound, I go down two flights of stairs. The music is growing in volume as I reach a set of double doors.
It's in here.
Standing in front of two bright green doors, I see lights on through the small windows. Raising onto the tips of my toes, I peek inside. It's the on-site gym for the fighters, a place I've never seen or visited. There's no need for me to ever be down here.
The music is blaring, but I don't see anyone inside. Cupping my hands, I hold them by my eyes and squint, searching deeper in the room for any sign of life. I'm expecting to see a janitor mopping the floor or fixing one of the bags. There's nothing.
Did someone forget to shut this stuff off yesterday?
It's not unheard of for people to get sidetracked or distracted, which can cause any responsibility to get tossed out the window. I've left stuff on and walked out the door before, others can do it too.
Pulling the door open, I go inside, and walk around looking for the radio so I can shut it off. It's hard to follow the sound, because it's coming from speakers in the ceiling. Finally, I see the radio on a shelf against the back wall.
Maneuvering through all the hanging bags, angled heavy bags, and kickboxing bags, I reach the shelf and look for the power button.
Thwap! Thwap Thwap!
Standing up quickly, I whip around, startled at the noise. Across the gym, there's a man whaling on a punching bag. His eyes are deadpan, staring at the bag, his hands are wrapped in white tape, and he's bouncing around the bag on his toes, striking it over and over. Shirtless and alone, this man is wreaking havoc on the bag.
Twisting slightly, I catch his profile. Surprise overwhelms me and I stumble backward a few steps.
It's Phade. What the hell is he doing here so early?
Leaning against the wall, I watch him. His muscles are bulging, sweat is beading up and rolling down the sharp angles of his back. His body is glistening under the florescent lighting, making him look like some sort of Greek god, lost to time, and reborn in front of my eyes.
I can't look away. My pussy clenches with desire, remembering just how good he felt inside me. I'm tempted to speak, but I don't want to, I'm enjoying this little show.
I'll watch him for a few more minutes, then I'll go upstairs.
I'm not going to disturb him, he looks like he's in the zone, doing his routine. The last thing I need is to be sidetracked right now anyway. Which he will definitely do.
Phade is breathing heavily, letting out a quick exhale with each punch. He dances around the bag, never taking his eyes off the target. I spy on him for a few more seconds, before turning to leave.
“You want to try?” he asks, causing me to stop in surprise.
But I don't answer, I'm not sure what to say. I didn't think he knew I was here. He looked so preoccupied, so caught up in his workout that I thought I could get away undetected.
“Well? Do you want to try, or are you just going to stand there like a stalker and watch?”
“Sorry,” I say, walking in his direction. “I'm not stalking you, I heard the music and thought someone forgot to shut it off yesterday. I was going to do it, but then I realized you were here.”
“That wasn't my question.” Landing another punch on the bag, he stops and glances up at me. I can see in his face that he's waiting for an answer. Except, I don't have one to give right then. Every word, every letter, it all suddenly vanishes from my brain.
It's as if just the sight of him all sweaty and shirtless disrupts how the nerves fire in my skull. Crickets are chirping and tumbleweeds are rolling across my thoughts. “I. . . I'm not. . . I don't—”
Phade wipes the back of his arm across his forehead as he stands up straight. I'm frozen in place, unable to speak because I'm mesmerized by his body. His chest is lifting and lowering rapidly, making his abs contract and relax over and over.
The muscles in his chest flex as he opens and closes his hands at his sides. Stretching his arms across his body, he rocks his head on his shoulders. Everything about this man is invading my brain, making it difficult to think straight.
Tracing the steppingstones down his stomach, I swallow hard as I reach where his dick is hidden away. There's an outline of his length against his shorts, his tip plump and thick, perfectly defined under the fabric.
Clearing my throat, I dart my eyes to the ceiling. “What was your question again?” I ask, trying to get myself together. “I didn't hear you.”
“Do you want to try?” Fanning out his arm, he points at the bag. “I can teach you.”
“I know how, I just don't want to.”
“Is that right?” he asks, a small grin playfully tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Yeah, that is right.”
“Then show me.” Taking a long step to the side, Phade holds out his arm, inviting me in. “Unless you're all talk.”
Waving my hand, I shake my head. “I'm not all talk.” Looking myself over, I joke, “I'm just not exactly dressed for this.”
“Well, I've got a super easy fix for that. Just take off your clothes.” He says it so smoothly that I actually think about it for a single second.
Cocking a brow, I tilt my head. “Yeah, I don't think so.”
“That's too bad, it would have been fun.” Phade grabs his hand and starts to bend his fingers, cracking the knuckles. “What brings you in so early?” he asks.
“I can ask you the same thing.” Slowly, I take steps forward. I'm watching him cautiously, keeping my distance.
The closer I get, the more my body reacts. The surface of my skin is getting warm, it's hot and flushed, and my muscles start to tingle. Stopping, I take a step back, leaning over and resting my elbow on a small ledge of the wall.
“Afraid I'm going to bite you?” His smirk widens as he licks his lips.
Shaking my head, I roll my eyes. “Are you always this full of yourself?”
“Maybe. Why shouldn't I be?”
“Because it's not a good look,” I say, turning to sit my back against the wall. “A little humility can go a long way you know.”
“Yeah, and sometimes you need to embrace the hand God gave you.” Twisting back to the bag, Phade hits it hard. “Why should I be humble when he's graced me with all of this? Shouldn't I enjoy what I have?”
“And what are you going to do when it's gone?”
“It's not going anywhere.”
“It won't be there forever,” I say matter of fact.
“No, but I've got years before that'll happen.”
“Is that what you think?” I ask, veering my stare.
Phade stops and looks at me over his shoulder. “It's what I know.”
“You're wrong. It won't be if you don't get your shit together.” Standing up straight, I walk towards the punching bag. “Do you think Daniel is just going to sit back and let you act this way?”
“So I should just change who I am?” Giving the bag a few quick jabs, he circles it and gives it a kick. “You both want me to become a robot. No personality, no emotions, just a yes man.” Shaking his head, he slugs the bag. “I don't think so. And I don't think us pretending to get engaged is going to do anything to help my image.”
“It won't just help, it's going to fix it.” Kicking off my heels, I step to the bag and give it hard kick with a jab combo. “I know how to do my job, same as you. We're both good at what we do, Phade.”
Crooking his jaw, he peers at me w
ith a pleased look on his face. “I know what else you're good at.” Winking, he holds the bag and nods for me to kick it again.
Kicking with my shin, I grunt loud as my leg connects with the solid mass. “And that needs to stop too. No more sex references, we need to be all business, nothing else.”
“What? I can't compliment you on your amazing ass, and how good your pussy felt wrapped around my cock?”
My chest swells as I inhale a deep breath and my clit pulses with excitement. I can feel him inside me again, the way he spread me open wide, how deep he went, hitting my lower belly.
No! Stop thinking about it!
Forcing the sensation away, my expression hardens. “Phade, I'm serious. You're going to lose everything if you keep doing this shit. And I won't be able to do anything to stop Daniel. He's in charge, he makes the rules, and both of us are here to follow them.”
“I make my own rules, sweetheart. No one makes them for me.” Circling the bag, we're now eye to eye. Phade's eyes flick around my face as he lifts his finger to my jaw and touches me lightly. “You can't tell me you didn't enjoy what we did. I know I did, and I know I haven't stopped thinking about it since.”
Holding up my hands, I take a firm step back. “We can't do this. Right now we need to focus on cleaning up your image. That's what's important.”
“Or. . .” he says, the word drawn out as he tries to close the gap between us. Taking a step forward, his brows arch high. “We can focus on making yours dirtier. . .” Pausing, he pulls his bottom lip in and smirks. Deep dimples sink into skin as his smile spreads ear to ear. “Doesn't that sound like way more fun?”
“No, that sounds like trouble.” Holding up my hands, I take a step back. I don't want him close to me. I'm afraid I'll lose focus, that his musk and muscles and smile will break the little control I have.
I can feel that thread getting weaker, the fibers brittle and exposed, ready to break with one single touch.
He steps in again. I step away. He steps, I step, he steps, I step. We do this dance through the room, until I feel something hard against my back, and I realize I have no place else to go. Phade has me cornered, trapped between his hard body and the wall.