Not Safe For Work

by L. A. Witt

  “You know I’m here any time you need it.”

  “I know. Thanks.”

  Our eyes met across the table, and we both managed small smiles.

  She looked at her watch and sighed. “Guess we should get back to the salt mine.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, we should.” As we stood and headed for the door, I hesitated. “T, promise me something.”

  She turned around. “Sure, what?”

  “You can’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

  “I told you I wouldn’t.”

  “I know. You did. And I—” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

  “No, I get it.” She touched my arm. “Not a word to anyone. I promise.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But if Cal’s mom asks, I—”

  “Shut up.” I laughed and nudged her toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get back to work before they have a real reason to fire us both.”

  “Eh, I’m not worried.” She pulled open the door and gestured for me to go ahead. “I’ll just blame you.”

  “Yeah, you would.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Chapter Thirty

  “Still tired?” Rick eyed me over the granite-topped island in his kitchen.

  I absently swirled my barely touched glass of wine. “Is it that obvious?”

  “To me it is.” He tilted his head. “You seemed like you were doing better. But now…” His brow pinched with palpable concern.

  “I know.” I scrubbed my hand over my face. “I…”

  “Come on.” He came around the island and slipped his hand around my elbow. “Let’s go sit in the living room. Take a load off.”

  Wordlessly, I followed him, and we sat on his giant, plush couch. I set my wine on a coaster and leaned forward, elbows on my knees as I kneaded my temples.

  Rick rubbed his hands over my shoulders. “Is there anything I can do?”

  I lifted my head enough to meet his gaze, and despite the sick feeling in my gut, I smiled. “You’re already doing it.”

  He smiled back, though his eyes didn’t really echo it. “I’m worried about you.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Will you?”

  I swallowed. How do I prove it to you?

  How to do I lie to you?

  “Give me a few more days.” I sat up and moved closer to him. Wrapping my arm around him, I added, “Then we’ll be back to burning up the sheets again. But for the moment…” I drew him in, pressed my lips to his and hoped like hell he believed me.

  If his kiss was any indication, he did. His lips parted for me, and he pulled in a sharp breath through his nose as he pulled me to him. Well, this much I could do. His soft lips, the faint sweetness of wine on his tongue—what wasn’t to love?

  I couldn’t erase what had happened at work, or the consequences dangling over my head like the Pink Slip of Damocles, but there was no way in hell I was letting any of that kill what we had. Even if my libido had checked out, Rick’s hadn’t, and I’d be damned if he wasn’t satisfied tonight.

  I pressed his shoulder gently. “Sit back.”

  He did, and I moved to the floor in front of him. Eyes wide and lips apart, he watched as I unzipped his pants.

  “Just because I’m tired,” I said with a grin I didn’t feel, “doesn’t mean you are.”

  “I know, but I—oh, Jesus…”

  I swallowed his cock as far as I could take it.

  “Fuck, Jon.” His hand skated over my hair and rested on the back of my neck. “That’s…” He trailed off into a moan. I clung to his enthusiasm, his arousal, and did everything I knew he liked—stroking, sucking, running my tongue around the head. Even if my heart wasn’t in it, he didn’t have to know. And my heart was in making sure he enjoyed this. Making sure he was happy.

  “And since this firm needs to do whatever it takes to keep Rick Pierce happy, so do you.”

  I forced that thought out of my head and concentrated on teasing his cock with my lips and tongue.

  Rick’s fingers combed through my hair. “That’s so good. Holy—” He exhaled sharply, his hand twitching against my scalp. “Your mouth is fucking incredible.”

  I gave him even more. Anything he wanted. Anything he liked. Just as long as he kept groaning and gasping, shuddering at my touch and thickening in my mouth—all because I wanted him to be happy. No one else. No other reason.

  “Please tell me I can come,” he slurred. “Please…”

  I moaned the closest thing I could to an affirmative, forcing enough enthusiasm to mask how dominant I didn’t feel just then, and Rick sucked in a breath. His cock thickened between my lips. His fingers tightened in my hair. Semen rushed across my tongue, and the more Rick cursed and trembled, the more I felt like a fraud. I should’ve been turned on, pleased by his obedience and aroused by his orgasm.

  But all I felt was relief that I’d faked it well enough to get him off and keep him from catching on that something was wrong. As I sat up and met his eyes, the relief ran even deeper—his eyes said he’d bought it. Crisis averted.

  As I took my place on the couch next to him and he fixed his pants, he said, “What about you? You haven’t—”

  I kissed him. “What I wanted tonight was to get you off.” I settled back on the other cushion. “Mission accomplished, I’d say.”

  “But I…” He held my gaze. After a moment, he rested his hand on my thigh. “Then all you have to do is say the word when you want me to get you off.”

  “Believe me.” I touched his face. “I know.”

  “Haven’t had too many Doms who like sucking cock,” he said, still slurring a little.

  “Their loss.” I kissed his cheek. “There aren’t many things hotter than a man who’s getting a blowjob and isn’t allowed to come.”

  “Except you let me come this time.”

  “This time, yes. But not every time, if you recall.”

  He nodded vigorously.

  “Thing is, I’ve known a few who think blowjobs are for submissives.” I draped my arm around his shoulders. “I happen to disagree. It’s just up to me whether I do it because I want to get you off, or because I want to torture you by not getting you off.”

  “So I see.” He studied me. Something in his expression faltered slightly, as if he were starting to see through the façade. There was only so long I could keep hiding it, so I took the direct approach. Sort of.

  I squeezed his shoulder. “Listen, I’m sorry I’m still ‘off’ tonight.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He kissed me and smiled. “We’ll get back to the kink just like we did before, after work bogged you down for a while. I’m not going to complain about this part.”

  It was supposed to be reassuring, but it hit me right in the gut. Right in that knot of guilt and disgust.

  I could still please him. Physically, anyway. But what about when he wanted me to top him again? When he wanted the Dom he’d signed up for in the first place?

  As Rick laid his head on my shoulder, and we held each other in the lazy afterglow, I felt even worse than I had in the conference room this afternoon.

  Well, Mitchell. I’m keeping him happy…

  * * * * *

  In the NSFW Zone the next day, the banter continued as it always did, and it kept me somewhat grounded while I worked. The crew didn’t even realize how much they kept me in the here and now instead of letting me drift into freaking out about my bosses and the man they wanted me to keep fucking.

  Or how difficult it was to even think about fucking him with all this hanging over my head. I couldn’t even tell if my Dom side had anything to do with it. Dom or not, this guy did not take kindly to being treated like a prostitute. Sex with strings attached wasn’t fun, especially not when those strings felt a lot like puppet strings.

  I shuddered.

  Glancing around the room, I fought back the queasy, paranoid feeling that was trying to settle in my gut. Teagan knew what was
going on. No one else did. I was certain if I so much as opened my mouth, it would all come spilling out and everyone would know.

  This wasn’t even the paranoia I’d had when we’d first slept together. When I’d been convinced that I’d walk in the office and everyone would just know. This was more like the time, back in my much younger days, when I’d smoked a little too much weed the night before work. Though I’d been coherent when I came into the office the next morning, the buzz was still there, and I’d spent my whole fucking shift being convinced someone would drag me down to HR, tell me to piss in a cup and send me packing for being a druggie. I hadn’t smoked after that. Lesson learned.

  But this wasn’t a panicky paranoia that could straighten me up and make me change my ways. All I had to do was slip up slightly, and someone somewhere would know that Mitchell & Forsythe was forcing me to continue my relationship with Rick. Someone somewhere would know that last night, I could barely keep my dick hard, never mind please him. Someone somewhere would know that I was losing my shit, falling apart and had no idea how to fix it.

  But that was crazy. No one had any reason to suspect anything. I was just going insane because…because who wouldn’t be going insane in my position?

  I laid down my X-ACTO knife and dug some change out of my desk drawer. “I’m going to grab a soda. Anyone else want anything?”

  “Bring me back a beer,” Cal piped up.

  “Yeah right,” Bianca said. “As if you’re old enough.”

  “Hey!”

  Even that couldn’t get a laugh out of me. As I started for the door, Teagan met my gaze, and the unspoken Are you okay? was loud and clear. I broke eye contact and kept walking.

  On autopilot, I made it to the vending machines. After a good minute of staring at the options—none of which had changed in the last five or six years—I settled on a Coke. A Red Bull would just make me too jittery, and the last thing I—

  “Hey.”

  My heart dropped into my stomach, and my stomach dropped into my feet.

  Rick. The last person on earth I could face right then. But what choice did I have?

  Shame and guilt burning in my throat, I turned around. “Hey.”

  “How are you?” He lifted his eyebrows—it wasn’t just benign small talk. After last night, I supposed he had every right to be concerned.

  If you only knew…

  “I’m still dragging, I guess. I’ll be all right.” I forced a laugh. “Maybe I’m getting too old to handle clubs.”

  Rick didn’t laugh. For a long moment, he studied me. Then he folded his arms, but quickly lowered them, as if he’d realized a second too late that it made him look defensive. “Something’s obviously wrong. What is it?”

  I don’t even know where to start. If I told you—

  I cleared my throat. “I’m all right. Honestly.”

  “Does top drop usually last this long?”

  “I haven’t had it in a while. It…” One by one, the potential rationalizations died when they reached my tongue. Rick wasn’t stupid, and every attempt I made to pull the wool over his eyes was an insult, not to mention a violation of the trust this kind of relationship depended on.

  I sighed. “Look, it’ll pass. Just…just be patient with me.”

  “Of course I will. It’s not impatience.” He lifted his hand slightly, then lowered it and glanced around, as if he’d nearly reached for me before remembering himself. “I’m just worried. I don’t want you struggling because of me.”

  Well, it’s not because of you, per se…

  I looked him in the eye and lifted my chin slightly. “How’s your schedule this weekend?”

  “This—” He paused, and fidgeted. “Clear.”

  “Good. Keep it that way. Because starting Friday night, you’re all mine.”

  “Do you think you’ll be all—”

  “Are you questioning me?”

  He blinked. “No. Of course not.”

  “Good. Friday night, then?”

  He gulped, and a grin spread across his lips. “I can’t wait.”

  “Neither can I.”

  We went our separate ways, and as soon as I was out of his sight, I stopped and leaned against the wall. Closing my eyes, I released a heavy breath.

  I was only going to be able to play the top-drop card for so long, which meant I had two options—get my head out of my ass and figure out how to be a Dom again, or come clean to Rick.

  I had two days to remember how to be a Dom again. Two days to conjure up the side of me that had always been so natural and that had drawn Rick to me in the first place. Two days to figure out how to give him everything he wanted and needed me to give him.

  Exactly the way my employer expected me to.

  My stomach lurched up into my throat, and I swore into the silence.

  I was fucked. Epically, undeniably, irreversibly fucked.

  What the hell do I do now?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Two nights later, I was no closer to an answer, but I was out of excuses and out of time. I pulled into Rick’s driveway, whispered a prayer that I could get my head together and killed the engine.

  As he always did, he came out the front door before I was up the walk.

  I faked the most convincing smile I could. “Hey.” I wrapped my arms around him. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you.” At least that wasn’t a lie—I still wasn’t sure I could conjure up the energy to be what he needed tonight, but just holding him and kissing him here on his front porch was enough to shake some life into me. I had been looking forward to seeing him. I just wasn’t looking forward to the inevitable moment when I had to tip my hand.

  Not now, though. Tonight, I needed to be what he needed.

  We exchanged smiles. Another kiss. No words needed to be said—we both knew what we wanted. Or rather, what I would have wanted in the lifetime that existed prior to facing down my bosses.

  In silence, he took my hand and led me inside, and then we were on our way up the stairs, and I felt like shit. This was all wrong. This was…this was not what I wanted.

  Red! a voice screamed in the back of my mind. Red! Red! Red!

  What the fuck? I was following my sub into his bedroom. Why did I feel more like a lamb being led to slaughter?

  Oh. Right. Because I was out of my fucking mind. Because I wasn’t here to have sex with my boyfriend. I was here to keep him happy so he’d keep pouring money into the pockets of my firm, in hopes that some of that money would trickle down to me.

  I toed the bedroom door closed behind us and begged both mind and body one last time not to let him down tonight.

  Rick faced me. “How do you want—” He cocked his head. “You all right?”

  Not even close.

  His forehead creased, and in a gentle voice, he asked, “You’re still in that funk, aren’t you?”

  I leaned heavily against the door. “It’s…” No, I wasn’t going to lie to him. This wasn’t top drop. “Fuck…”

  “I can see it, Jon.” He stepped closer. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

  You don’t know the half of it.

  I forced back the nausea burning its way up my throat.

  “Jon.” He looked me right in the eyes. “Talk to me.”

  My stomach churned. He wasn’t going to let this go, and I couldn’t blame him. If the roles had been reversed, I’d have been pushing him to talk to me too, especially if he wanted me to participate in a scene with him. I owed him the honesty I’d have expected from him.

  “It’s…” I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “The firm knows about us.”

  “They…” He cleared his throat. “Come again?”

  I dropped my hand. “They know. Someone saw us in the parking garage. They had the security camera tapes reviewed and…” I gestured dismissively. “They know.”

  Rick’s eyes widened. “Oh. Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have they said anything about it?”


  I whistled. “Yeah. Yeah, they have.” This nervous energy was going to drive me insane, so I pushed myself off the door and started pacing across the plush carpet while Rick watched. Running a shaking hand through my hair, I scrambled to put my thoughts in order.

  He stopped me with a hand on my elbow. “They’re not threatening your job, are they?”

  “Not…not the way you’d expect.”

  “What does that mean?”

  My stomach somersaulted, and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. There was no going back if I tipped my hand now. If Rick knew what the partners had said, if he knew about the ultimatum they’d given me, I couldn’t just rein it back in and tell him to forget about it. What if it pissed him off? What if he confronted the firm?

  He stopped behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. “Just tell me.”

  I closed my eyes. After a moment, I faced him. “Look, Horizon Developing pretty much saved Mitchell & Forsyth’s ass. If you hadn’t signed with us, the whole place probably would’ve folded within a year.”

  He nodded, brow furrowing slightly.

  “And all of us employees have been told from day one that if anyone from Horizon Developing says jump, we say how high.” I exhaled sharply and kneaded my stiffening neck. “For God’s sake, they’ve even gotten on my case when they’ve seen us talking.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because every communication between your company and ours has to go through a liaison who’s trained to not fuck things up.”

  His lips thinned into a straight line. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. It’s…fucking degrading, but what can you do?” I paused. “Or I guess I should say, what can I do?” I cursed the helplessness in my voice—this was not a side I wanted any submissive to see. Or any boyfriend. Anyone.

  “Okay, so.” He folded his arms loosely across his chest and studied me. “They know about us now, so what are they going to do? Tell you not to see me again?”

  “No. The opposite, actually.”

  Rick blinked. “Say what?”

  I took a deep breath, and my pride shriveled as I revealed the last card. “They want me to keep seeing you.”