by Cynthia Dane
Her torso lifted up as he slipped his arm beneath her shoulder. “Want it? Or need it?”
“Need it.” Jasmine could barely catch her breath as she felt him begin to move again within her. I’m so close. His girth was almost too much to handle in this position, but she couldn’t help herself. Take more of him. Her throat shared its surprise as she eased farther onto him, his base pushing firmly against her skin. Now fuck me, asshole. “I need it. Please, Ethan… fuck me full.”
He began by pulling her arms behind her, holding her upright against the machine, and thrusting up into her so his tip touched her most sensitive place. Jasmine was out of any shame she may have felt should someone open that door right now. She almost wanted them to. See how well we go together? See what he wants with me? She briefly thought of that time Ethan told her about Nadia. He had never brought her up again like that. It wasn’t a real fantasy. But she wanted the receptionist to open that door now, to have her suspicions confirmed.
Finally he released her, sending Jasmine down on top of the machine as he lifted her hips and slammed into her. Jasmine could not contain the moan that passed her lips, her breasts trapped against the copy machine as Ethan rode her until his end.
She felt it before she heard him. Just enough of a push to send her over the edge, her whole body shaking in pleasure as Ethan did as she begged. I’m so disgusting for wanting this… She couldn’t help thinking it as his warmth spread through her body and his thrusts eased more of it into her. Even there, in that cramped, sweaty supply closet, Jasmine felt a level of intimacy that made her want to collapse into Ethan’s arms and never worry about anything again.
But that wasn’t going to happen. Jasmine had to face the disappointment when he pulled out of her and went right to cleaning himself up.
“It’s hot in here,” he muttered, shaking out his cuffs and pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his brow. “I’m going to lunch. Hope to see those folders ready when I get back sometime around two.”
Jasmine hurried to stand up and get her dress back in order before Ethan creaked the door open. The fresh air felt good on Jasmine’s skin, but all she could do was stare despondently at the copying machine – and at the copies of her breasts that had been spat out into the tray.
She almost shredded them all. Only most of them. She kept one copy to tape to the bottom of his top desk drawer. That way he would never forget their liaison in a supply closet.
26
Since Jasmine insisted on having the folders for that afternoon’s meeting ready before she went to lunch, she ended up having a very late lunch. By the time she was off, Nadia had already gone on her own break, never to be seen until Jasmine returned. Alone, she decided to hop into the elevator and go down to the cafeteria.
Of course it was no ordinary cafeteria like other office buildings had. The one at JaCole could only be gorgeous, tightly designed, and full of the healthiest, most delicious foods on the block. Somehow it managed to be affordable enough for blue collar workers having their time stolen in the mail room or cleaning a bathroom in the basement. So when Jasmine dropped a small sum for a melt and a bowl of hot chowder, she felt like she was dining at the sort of place Ethan would take her to for breakfast.
The afternoon rush was already over, giving her plenty of seating spaces to choose from. But as she meandered toward a brightly lit window, she recognized a woman sitting alone at a two-person table and nibbling on a tiny salad.
“Monica?” Jasmine was dumbfounded. Not because Monica would be having lunch in her boyfriend’s building, but because she would be doing it alone. “What are you doing here?”
The young – was she young? Ethan said she was older than she seemed – woman glanced up at her with a shy smile. She had a small journal she was writing in, and the moment she saw Jasmine she flipped it shut. “I’m having lunch. Pleasure to see you here.” When she saw the dishes on Jasmine’s tray, she gestured to the seat across from her. “Won’t you join me?”
Perhaps it was a morbid curiosity that made Jasmine put her food down and pull out a chair. It certainly wasn’t a burning desire to talk to someone who had the apparent personality of a plank of wood. I bet she’s quite intelligent. Monica had that air about her, like she had gone to a prestigious school and studied under great minds. For such a demure submissive, there was a confidence about her that always threw Jasmine off guard. If one did not know Monica’s living situation, they would assume she was one of those quiet geniuses working on quantum physics or writing the Next Great American Novel… or maybe it was just Jasmine who got that vibe.
“Where’s your…” She had no idea what to call Jackson. Boyfriend seemed wrong to say out loud, and master made her want to gag.
Monica didn’t flinch. “He’s having lunch with Ethan. Normally I would wait upstairs in the office, but I was hungry.”
“Anything good for lunch?”
Monica glanced at her empty plate. “A salad and coffee.”
Jasmine had half her melt in her mouth. “Doesn’t sound very filling.”
“I have to be careful of what I eat.” That was all she said. No explanation. She’s skinny enough to not be on a diet. Meanwhile Jasmine was here with her fat and carbs giving no shits to her aging body and its battle against metabolism. Woman was over twenty-five now and noticed the pounds packed on a bit easier.
“How about you? Having a good day?”
There was something mischievous behind that smile. Like Monica knew what Jasmine had been up to a little over an hour ago. Oh no, maybe she does. Monica had been with Ethan. She knew about his spontaneity “It’s going fine.” An orgasm before lunch certainly made her feel a little more than fine. Relaxed, definitely. “You know. Work.”
Monica took a dainty sip of her coffee. “And Ethan.”
“Yes.” Jasmine kept her lips tight. “And him.”
She didn’t know why she was so guarded around Monica. Monica knew what was going on, and had more experience than Jasmine. Maybe she was afraid the sub was so submissive that she would spill the details of any conversation with Jackson. Jasmine didn’t believe that Ethan shared details of their sex life with his business partner – and if he did, she didn’t want to know – so the last thing she wanted was that slimy bastard thinking up things about her. That man was already undressing her with his eyes every time their paths crossed.
“He’s a good man.” Monica held her hands around her coffee cup. “One of the best I know, anyway.”
Was that a slight against Jackson? “You know,” Jasmine began, staring into her untouched soup, “he told me about you and him.”
She waited to see how Monica would respond. Surprised? Relieved? Should’ve guessed it would be unfazed. The quiet woman merely smiled again. A smile devoid of any life.
“Yes, it seems so long ago now. I enjoyed living at his house. He has the most beautiful garden.”
“I know. It’s like his baby.” Jasmine had been back to Ethan’s mansion a few times, and watching him sit in his garden, pluck some flowers, and even get down on his hands and knees to pull a weed here or there was mesmerizing. Jasmine even once caught him having a lively discussion with the gardener – in Spanish, no less – that ended with them laughing and clapping each other on the shoulders. Jasmine’s Spanish was rusty, but she thought she heard them talking about plans to lay out a new section of the garden. “He told me you two broke up because of…”
“Yes. Because of Jackson.” Monica was not mincing any words that day. “Some people don’t like it anymore after a while. Being in that sort of arrangement. It didn’t bother me either way. I miss Ethan, but Jackson takes good care of me. I live at his place now. It’s farther away than Ethan’s place, but I like the quiet.”
“I see.” Jasmine didn’t know where Jackson lived. Didn’t want to know. “He told me that you have been… this way… for a while. I’m sorry, I’m being rude.”
“No, no. I don’t mind. I’m not ashamed.
” Monica picked up her pen and started doodling on the cover of her journal. “I chose to live like this. I like it when someone takes charge of my life for me. There’s a comfort in being told things. Surely, it’s not for everyone. And I’m not without my resources. It’s just…” She looked out the window, and Jasmine thought she saw a glimmer of nostalgia in her eyes. “Yes, I have been doing this a long time. Since I was in college. I got into it by accident, but I must admit it was one of the best things to ever happen to me.”
There was something she wasn’t telling Jasmine. “But?”
Monica put down her pen and picked up her coffee. The cup jittered against her lips as she sipped. “Sometimes you meet bad people. There are men, and even a few women, who see someone like me and go beyond domination. They’re trash.”
The coffee cup shook so much that some warm coffee slipped down the porcelain and onto Monica’s hand. She didn’t seem to notice.
“I’m sorry.” It was all Jasmine could say.
“Watch yourself.”
Was that a warning about Ethan? No, she wouldn’t have praised him like that first. It must have been someone else. Perhaps someone in her past. Jackson.
Jasmine stared at Monica for a few seconds, trying to ascertain if this woman was in trouble. Was she happy with Jackson? Did he treat her well? The man made her cut up his steak, for God’s sake. But maybe she liked that. Maybe she liked taking care of him like that. Like his mother. Jasmine tried not to judge. But she would die before she did more than cut open Ethan’s steak just to make it bleed. That rare meat is gonna kill him. Not before she got paid, hopefully.
“I admit I don’t know much about that kind of life.” Jasmine didn’t count what she did with Ethan as a lifestyle thing. He would tie her up, bind her, sometimes gag her – oh, and the occasional spanking that made her see and feel passionate red – but it was confined to the bedroom. And even then that was only about half the time. If Jasmine said no, she knew Ethan would stop and they would either change gears or do something else. One night they were halfway through the deed when Jasmine didn’t want to do it anymore. She had been afraid that Ethan would be angry, but instead he excused himself before coming back to ask her to watch a movie with him. She fell asleep in his bed halfway through.
Monica waited for Jasmine to finish her thoughts before responding. “Like I said, it’s not for everyone. I feel like if it’s something you would be into, you would gravitate toward it. But it’s hard finding the right partner. It requires a level of trust that you can’t have with anyone.”
“I could see that.”
“I was disappointed when Ethan said he didn’t want to live that way. But it was better for him to recognize it than try to be someone he wasn’t.”
“Do you miss him?”
Finally, Jasmine managed to get a real reaction out of the passive woman. Monica’s eyes grew big, she sat back, and the coffee cup ceased its wobbling in her hands. “I suppose. I still see him at dinners and things. But if you mean that way… well, he is very gentle.”
Gentle! Then again, Jasmine supposed that compared to other lovers, Ethan was quite gentle to Monica.
“Well, I must be going.” Monica picked up her bag and stood up, her svelte body stunning in a designer cinnamon-colored dress. Even though she was alone, she still carried herself like a submissive person. Her head pointed down, her voice was quiet, and she seemed uninterested in sharing her opinions with the world. Jasmine could not relate.
The rest of her lunch hour was pensive. Jasmine chewed her food and contemplated what Monica told her, about that sort of lifestyle, about Ethan. More than once she wondered if that woman was in some sort of terrible situation. Nobody shook like that just from drinking coffee. But Monica had trained herself to speak in cryptic words. What she said and what she meant didn’t always match up.
Jasmine had plenty of time to debate it when she returned to Ethan’s office and found him talking with Jackson.
“…Those bullies will stop at nothing to force the merger.” Jackson tossed an apple into the air and caught it with his hand every time. His sandy beard looked like a prickly cactus, as opposed to when Ethan would forego shaving for a while and have soft fuzz on his skin. “They’ve been pushing it for over a year now. We can’t hold it off much longer. Come on, Ethan, it’s inevitable. Buy the boys out already.”
Ethan glanced at Jasmine before responding. “Their price is more than I’m comfortable paying. You know how I am. I don’t pay that much unless I really want it.” He looked at Jasmine again, knowing.
Jackson caught this exchange. “Of course I know. Not my fault if you can’t see a good deal in front of your face. Take this lovely lady for instance.” He gestured to Jasmine, who would rather not be the subject of any of Jackson’s sentences. “How much is she charging you to fuck her again?”
Ethan tensed up as Jasmine rounded on Jackson. But the man looked at her as if to say, “What? Am I wrong?” Faced with her own price, Jasmine turned away again, red in the cheek.
“That’s none of your business,” Ethan said flatly. “We’re talking tens of millions of dollars here.”
“Here I thought it was three million.”
“I meant the merger. Plus we would have to downsize their company. Send in efficiency experts to see where costs could be cut so we could make that money back as quickly as possible. They have thousands of employees. It would take forever, and there’s no guarantee that it would actually boost our stock or raise our profits. They win in this merger more than we do.”
“Then call it my instinct! You know it’s good enough!”
Ethan turned to Jasmine as if to apologize. But he didn’t say anything. Instead he woke his computer up and typed something into his web browser. “Look at this,” he said to Jasmine, pointing to the screen. “Tell me this doesn’t make any sense.”
With Jackson’s eyes on her – undressing her, probably – Jasmine rounded the desk and looked at whatever Ethan pointed to. It was a page of stock numbers and commentary about the state of business. Apparently word had gotten out that JaCole was looking to buy this other company, and its stocks were plummeting. Jasmine wasn’t really that savvy at business, but she knew that low stock prices meant a cheaper buyout. But there was no guarantee that JaCole could turn it around again. “I don’t know what to say. It looks bad.”
“Oh come on, Ethan, what the hell does she know?”
“Well, she knows it looks bad. Don’t need to be an insider with a master’s in business to know that, Jackson.”
“Fine. Listen to your mistress over me.” Jackson frowned, and Jasmine could not say it inspired any confidence in her. In fact she was quite perturbed by the way that man’s face creased and his frown turned into a scowl toward her. He stopped tossing his apple around and took a bite out of it, juice dribbling down his chin without a care.
Gross. Jasmine stepped closer to Ethan and wished the other man would go away. “Like I said, I don’t really know anything. It’s not personal.”
“Oh no, dear, if it were personal, I would have destroyed you by now.”
Those words managed to stop time in the office. The clock ticked on the wall, but both Jasmine and Ethan held their breaths while Jackson continued to munch on his apple. He would what? Had Ethan heard that? Would he say or do anything? Jasmine checked her shock and stared at her boss, willing him to yell at Jackson and to evict him from the building.
Jackson left on his own, saying not a word.
Jasmine let out her breath the moment the door closed again. “What did he mean by that?” she asked Ethan.
“Nothing. He’s bluster.”
“Ethan.” Jasmine put a firm hand on his shoulder, which made him sit up from his computer and look askance at her. “I don’t like that man. I know he’s your business partner, but please keep him away from me.”
“He’s harmless.” Yet from the tone in his voice, Jasmine could tell that even he
wasn’t sure about that.
“Ethan.”
Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
27
Why does my shower have to be so gross? Jasmine stared at some suspicious dark spots in between the tiles of her shower. She scrubbed them, bought expensive cleaners for them, and still couldn’t get it up to snuff. She was convinced it was grime built up from years and years of use. Whenever she showered, she would stare at this black fuzz and feel her lungs sucked out of her body. Better that than inhaling some mold.