by Hunter Frost
“I’ve got protection,” he said, putting down the bucket to snap on rubber gloves.
I caught my temperature rising at the quick upturn of the man’s mouth—that simple grin so unexpected and brilliant. I wasn’t sure if I should watch as Chaz got down on the floor, on all fours, and searched for the ceramic shards, tossing them in the bucket. But I couldn’t look away. His body was captivating. The ease with which he moved while down on the floor reminded me of an animal. A wolf or a tiger.
“I’m sure you could get another coffee down at the party,” he said, leaning back on his knees. The position emphasized his muscular thighs, straining the fabric. I tried not to stare.
“I’d rather gouge my eyes out with this fountain pen,” I said without thinking. I shook off the daze his body had me under.
Chaz chuckled as he got to his feet. Nonetheless graceful. “Not a fan of Halloween parties, I take it?” He removed the gloves and wiped his hands.
“No.” I grabbed my chair and sat back down off to the side. “I don’t do costumes, and I prefer to hear my own thoughts.”
“I hear ya,” he said, dipping the mop in the bucket and wringing it out. Even that was sexy. He slid the mop back and forth over the floor, the muscles in his forearms flexing with each movement. I found myself wanting him to turn away from me so I could see him from behind.
“Duty calls, right?” he said, making my wish come true and reaching over a little as he turned.
His back end was divine. Thick and juicy. “These reports aren’t going to review themselves.” Sweat dampened my undershirt.
Chaz huffed. “You mean the same reports that’ve already been reviewed by each unit, each director, and each VP?”
My fingers hovered over my keyboard. “How do you know that?”
He turned back to look at me, his blue eyes making me forget what I’d asked in the first place.
He shrugged. “I hear things.”
I thought about pressing him for information. He probably did hear things. Possibly what my employees truly thought of me. It would be nice to know, but I thought it might sour the moment. “You never know if an i needs to be dotted or a t crossed.”
Chaz dragged the mop toward him and dunked it in the bucket. “Sounds to me like you’ve got control issues.”
What? “Excuse me?” I turned in my seat.
He tucked the towel he was holding into his back pocket, his arms flexing again. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”
I blinked, debating whether or not that made me angry. “Then what made you say it?”
He cleared his throat. “You’re burning the midnight oil on Halloween for reports that already shine like diamonds. Yet, you still feel the need to polish them for the hundredth time. Sounds obsessive to me.”
My jaw suddenly ached, and I knew I was grinding my teeth. Who was this guy, thinking he could talk to me like this? With such brazen disregard for authority? Then again, what did I really expect? I didn’t like ass-kissers. Oh god, dash that image.
I lowered my eyes and rubbed the junction between my neck and shoulder. “Just because I’m diligent and like to make sure things are done a certain way.”
“Your way?” He rested the mop against the wall.
“If it’s the right way, yes. But that’s not always the—” my neck tweaked. “Ouch!” I tilted my head to the side and reached back further to massage the burning muscle. But Chaz beat me to it.
“Let me.” Chaz pushed my hand away and began kneading the sore knot.
I tensed initially, but then he hit some magic spot that made my shoulders ease downward. I opened my mouth to protest and groaned instead. Damn, that felt good.
“I’m not a control freak,” I finally managed to say, melting under Chaz’s rub down. My body didn’t seem to know how to react. Shivers zoomed around my limbs. Butterflies fluttered in my gut. Heat radiated under his hands. Cold bit at my spine. I tried to will the physical aside. Why did I care what the janitor thought about my work habits? He didn’t know me well enough to judge.
“You’re a mass of knots,” Chaz replied, and I didn’t mind that he ignored my attempt to deny his accusations, as long as he kept working those gnarled spots with his talented hands.
“I need to get back to work,” I argued, my voice weak even to my own ears. Any more of this and I might do something I’d regret.
“What you need is a break, Mr. Davis.”
His fingers traveled up my neck and into my hair, sending wild sensations all over my scalp and gooseflesh over my skin. He pulled gently at my hair, my senses exploding. I made a hissing noise that sounded like I’d been burned.
No, no, no . . . this was no longer in the realm of professional. The man’s hands were teasing and stroking over my scalp, making my eyes roll in the back of my head and my slacks tight. This was no longer a friendly neck rub from a concerned employee.
So why wasn’t I stopping him?
Because it felt like heaven. I wanted to turn around and check if Chaz was as hard as I was. And if he wasn’t, I wanted to offer anything necessary to get him there.
What? No! This isn’t a porno. It’s my office. I’m the CEO and Chaz is the janitor—which honestly, really did sound like a porno. But no—I needed to stop this now.
“Chaz,” I said, standing quickly and pushing the chair to the side. His hands fell as I turned around to face him. Big mistake. Now we were only inches apart. Slightly shorter than me, he was so much more alluring right there in my space, his body giving off flames. His scent filled my nostrils and I wanted to taste everything in front of me—his neck, his scruffy cheeks, his chin, and his tempting lips. I salivated and closed my mouth, hoping nothing had fallen out.
He just stood there with a small smile, brazenly looking over my face, studying it . . . hungrily.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Get a grip, Trent.
“Thank you for cleaning up . . . and for the neck rub, but I really do think you should go now.”
He licked his lips. Not helping douse my craving for him. Then he took a step back.
Somehow, it didn’t provide the relief I’d hoped for. His eyes alone kept drawing me in, saying unspoken, scandalous things. Things my dick heard loud and clear.
“Let me take control for a while,” he whispered.
How could such a simple phrase both make me want to spit in anger and send a thrill of hot need straight through to my core? Who was I kidding? Chaz was right. I was a control freak. I needed it. It’s what made me who I am. Control was how I ran a multimillion-dollar company despite being young and less experienced than my competition. Letting go of control meant the risk of failure and, more so, letting people see that vulnerable underbelly they’d judge me for—my sexual identity, my preferences, my life choices. Everything personal and private I feared exposing.
And yet, it was so hard maintaining that kind of control. The pressure was insane. The thought of giving it up, if only for a little while, scared me to death. But deep in my bones, it excited me. Chaz excited me. Knowing I could let it go, my only concern to please him, made me rock hard.
Chaz stepped closer, somehow hearing my thoughts. His heat nearly consumed me. Parts of us brushed—and I lost track as sparks alighted all over my body.
I wanted him to leave, but at the same time, I hoped he’d grab me. Hold me. Prevent me from running away and force me to face this desire.
“You need to give me permission,” he said, voice low.
Making me say it was torture. But I understood. Propositioning the CEO, then imposing himself upon me without my consent would be unwise. He was smart and a decent man, which made him even more attractive. Though truth be told, the moment he touched me, I’d be powerless to stop him. I’d be clamoring to do whatever he wanted.
He leaned closer. “Say it,” he whispered, his breath tickling my lips, sending the nerve endings into chaos.
I eyed his hovering mouth. I could lean down, and bam, we’d be fused together. Why did I
hesitate? Because he’s the janitor? Who cared when it was a chance to release all this pent-up frustration with this hot-as-sin man offering it to me. It’s a hook-up, a one-time thing that will be forgotten tomorrow. Simple. Easy.
“You have it,” I said, willing my voice not to shake. “Take it.”
Chapter Three
Charlie
I growled and wrapped a hand around Trent’s tie, using it like a short silk leash. I pressed close to his ear, his skin already searing. “Good, because I’m going to do the dirtiest, most wicked things to you.”
Trent visibly swallowed, his body trembling.
“And you’re going to tell me every single one of them.”
“What?” Trent choked out.
“You heard me.” My hand twisted on his tie. “You want it, you’ll ask for it. Maybe even beg for it.”
His eyes widened and then lowered, his face flushed.
He was loving this, this tease and play, and it made me want to fucking explode. I didn’t know what got into me. One moment I was mopping up spilled coffee, the next I was in his face trying not to shove my tongue down his throat and dry hump him like a madman.
What’s my problem? I can’t believe I started in with that control freak shit. I knew he was. So what? He’s allowed. He’s the goddamn CEO!
But god, something in the way he looked at me with such need, the way his body pulsed and responded to my touch, the way he craved this chance enough to throw caution to the wind and hook-up with the bossy janitor, despite his obsession with control, had me going batshit crazy. It was too late to turn back now. I was all in, screw the consequences. My cock couldn’t get any harder.
I wanted him to know this wasn’t about shame or humiliation. This was about asking for what he wanted. Things I knew he hid deep within him. It was always the straight-laced, uptight, control-hungry ones that were the wildest and the most fun to unwind. But they were also the ones who took the most convincing to let it go.
“No judgments here, Mr. Davis,” I said. “No matter what. Fuck, I may even get off on it more than you.” I took his hand and pressed it against my raging hard-on.
He gasped, surprise in his eyes.
“That’s how turned on I am already. By you.” I grazed the shell of his ear with my lower lip. He hissed and squeezed my cock. I smiled, tracing his ear with my tongue, and pushed his hand away. Wrapping him in my arms, I ground my erection into his hip and he groaned.
He kept his head down. “And what if I can’t . . .”
My gut told me this was a test. “If you can’t tell me what you want . . . you’ll get punished.”
“Punished?” Trent’s voice cracked, and his eyes snapped up to mine. Again, I got a feeling there was something behind that protest. Something deviant and delicious.
“Anything I want.” This time, I reached down to cup his package through his high-priced slacks. He moaned, his cock like petrified wood.
“We’re going to have fun,” I whispered. My head spun, and I hadn’t even gotten started yet. Shit. Was I this easy?
Trent squirmed. He too was a bundle of nerves.
“Start talking.” I grabbed his ass and pulled him hard up against me.
He made a noise between a groan and whimper.
“What do you want me to do to you . . . first?”
His hands rested on my chest—palms flat. But he didn’t push. He wanted them there, for I felt his fingers clench and unclench, like a cat kneading a pillow. He stared at me as if he struggled inside.
“I—” He shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t say it.”
“You know the consequences.”
He nodded. “What will you do?” His normally deep voice was small.
Fuck, there was so much I wanted to do to him. Most of it wouldn’t register as punishment for either of us. But I already knew how I’d do it. It was my kink, but it worked wonders with those who loved control, loved being large and in charge, and hated giving it over to someone else.
“Turn around and put your hands on top of your head,” I ordered.
Trent gave me one last steamy look. There was uncertainty there, but then his eyes darkened and he did as he was told.
I pressed my cock against his ass and brought my hands around to his belt. I undid the buckle and then slid that 100% genuine leather slowly out of each belt loop. I yanked it free and flung it off. Trent’s breathing grew heavy and ragged, and I hadn’t even unbuttoned his pants. Need and want consumed him. I could hear it in his breath and feel it in his racing heartbeat.
I undid the button on his slacks and pulled the zipper down, slow enough to frustrate him. His cock strained the fly, nearly busting out of it once the zipper was breached. I eased his slacks off his hips, letting them pool at his feet.
Shit, I wanted to squeeze and fondle his cock and balls in those expensive boxers, already wet with his precome.
But this was punishment.
I slipped my fingers into the waistband of his boxers, one hand at each side of his hips. I slid them down, inch by inch, bringing my thumbs inward, letting them brush over that lean muscled V. His breath caught, and mine went ragged near his ear. When I grazed his bush, his groin muscles fluttered.
Lifting his boxers out briefly, his cock sprung forward. Fuck, it was beautiful. Hard, wet, and thick, longer than I expected, with a dark pink head. Again, I had to hold myself back from touching it. Punishment. This was punishment—for me too, it seemed.
I pushed the boxers down to rest at his ankles along with his pants and came back up to his ear. As I thrust my hard-as-steel dick into the cleft of his now-bare ass, I wrapped my arms around him. He shook. “Chaz,” he breathed.
“Hottest cock I’ve ever seen,” I said against his ear, then sucked the lobe into my mouth.
Trent gasped and pressed his ass back into me.
“Such a dirty, needy man.” I nipped at his neck.
He moaned, and I swear I could’ve just ground into him like this until we both came. I reached up and grabbed Trent’s wrists, lowering them for a moment.
“Bend over your desk and put your hands above, spread with your palms down. Like you’re about to be cavity searched by a very crooked, very horny cop.”
He hesitated. “Is that my . . . punishment?”
Again, Trent said the word with a hitch in his throat; a telling hitch. He liked that word.
“Not today,” I answered. However, I was always open to suggestions in the future.
He did exactly what he was told, and fuck if that wasn’t the most beautiful sight. Trent Davis, CEO, as rigid and straight-laced as they came, with his pants down around his ankles, his tanned, near-hairless ass served up on a platter. Those pert, firm cheeks just for me.
I sat on the desk and folded his dress shirt up to give me complete access to his entire, sweet back end. “I bet you think I’m going to fuck you like this, don’t you, Mr. Davis?”
He didn’t respond.
“But no. This is your punishment, remember?” I had to keep reminding myself of that too.
“Yes, Chaz,” he whispered, and I had to adjust.
Cruelly pressed inside my Dickies, my cock leaked like crazy. “You’re going to be in this position for a while, so get comfortable.”
He lifted up and pulled his cock and balls forward.
When he settled back into position, I dragged the back of my knuckles up the same cleft my aching dick had been wedged in moments ago.
Trent’s whole body shivered, his ass clenching.
“Here’s the deal, Mr. Davis.” I rested my palm on one velvety ass cheek. “You’re going to get spanked.”
Chapter Four
Trent
Spanked.
The word seemed to echo around the room. I swallowed, savoring the tingles it sent through my body. Like control and punishment, it triggered such an involuntary response in my body.
How did Chaz know exactly what to say to me? Where did this guy come from? I started to wonde
r if I might be dreaming. Had I conjured him up from my own fantasies?
But god, I was hyperaware of his palm resting on my bottom and what it was about to do to me, and my hard-on.
I licked my lips. “Yes, Chaz,” I answered, my voice wavering despite my efforts to contain my excitement.
“Not like you have any say in the matter now. You made your choice when you refused to tell me what you wanted me to do to you.” His thumb brushed over my skin and I twitched. He squeezed my butt cheek like it was a piece of dough, and I stifled a moan.
“One rule, though, Mr. Davis.” He leaned back near where my face rested on the cool ebony. I directed my eyes toward him, admiring his sexy jawline. “Don’t let me hurt you. You get me?”
I wasn’t sure I did. He was going to spank me. Didn’t that mean some pain?
He clarified when I didn’t answer right away. “I’m not into drawing blood, welts, or scars. And if at any time I do something that gets to that point, you say something.”
“A safeword?” Something warm settled in my chest at his request.
“Got one?”
I searched my fuzzy, lust-addled brain. No, I didn’t. I’d never done anything like this before. Sex, of course. Though many, many months ago. Kink, never. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. A stranger spanking me over my desk? Should I have given him this much control?
But as he turned toward me, his eyes shimmered, reminding me of swimming pools in the summer, and I knew I could trust him. “Oasis,” I blurted out.
“Oasis,” he repeated and sat up.
I closed my eyes as more nervous questions assaulted me. Would this hurt? Would I be able to handle it? I felt confident in Chaz and his abilities. It was me I worried about.
A stinging slap to my bottom startled me out of my thoughts. Damn, that was better than I expected.
Chaz rubbed gently over the spot he smacked, igniting my sensitized skin.
He smacked the other cheek this time, in the same manner. Strong and fast, but again, he skimmed over the stinging flesh afterward with a soft caress.