by Riley, Alexa
Sir: I’ll be more than happy to show you what a pain in the ass really is.
What does that mean? It better not mean…
Me: I hope you mean a spanking, because you will not be sticking that giant thing in my ass!
Sir: Mouth, kitten.
Grr. Whatever. Silencing the phone, I retreat from the room in search of Cupid.
When I reach the living room, I see Cupid standing in the middle of about six racks of clothes, each one around a foot taller than he is. I wouldn't have been able to see him if not for my heels. Cupid is a short, chubby, bald guy, and today he’s dressed in a white three-piece suit. It’s almost funny how our outfits contrast with the reds and blacks that cover everything in here.
“Hi.” I give an awkward wave, a little bit of embarrassment hitting my cheeks. I’d met Cupid a few times; he would pop in and talk to Charles when I was working here, and a few times he had to ask me questions about something at the Cortez when we traded places.
His face lights up with a bubbly smile, which makes me smile too.
“About time you woke up!” He pushes one of the clothes racks out of the way and runs over to hug me as if we're long-lost friends. I hug him back and giggle. His excitement always seems contagious. I wonder how such a happy giddy person could work for Charles. They’re almost like night and day.
“Sorry if I kept you waiting. I must have been exhausted to sleep so late. That’s not like me.”
“I'm sure he exhausted you.”
Cupid wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I blush at his words. He busies himself with the racks of clothes, and it hits me that everyone is going to know I'm hooking up with Mr. Townsend. Everyone I've been working with, the few friends I made in the month I was here, everyone.
Shit. Gossip in casinos spreads like wildfire.
“Most of these should fit you. If something doesn't, leave it on the rack and I'll take it back. If you don't like something, leave that too, but my taste is impeccable so I don't foresee that.” He says it with so much certainly I believe him.
“Hmm. Do you want me to try them on now?” I’m exhausted at the very idea.
“No, we have spa appointments downstairs. I’ll leave them here for you to go through whenever you like.” Making his way over to a big white box on the sofa, he adds, “This is also yours. I have no idea what’s in it, and I was told I wasn't allowed to open it.” He points at it and stares at me, the silent message clear. He wants me to open it so he can see inside.
Walking over to the box, I lift the lid, exposing lingerie. It looks like there’s something in every color. “The good stuff,” Cupid says beside me, and I drop the lid, my face turning crimson.
I’m not sure why he bought it. One, I’m not allowed to wear panties and two, the tops of my dresses are normally tight enough that I don’t have to wear a bra. Most of them have a built-in bra, and I’m not rocking a ton of boobage as it is.
“Turn your phone back on before you give Mr. Townsend a coronary.”
I look over at Cupid to see him typing away on his phone. I guess I see where his loyalties lie.
“It is on,” I say smugly, because it is.
“Turn the ringer on,” he says without looking up at me.
Sliding my finger along the side of the phone, I put it back on ring, but don’t bother to look at it.
“Come on. You’ll have him storming up here in two minutes flat if you don’t respond to him.” He pauses for a moment, and judging by his reaction, he must see something flare in my eyes. “Or is that what you want?”
Is this how it's going to be with everyone around here after they find out about me and Charles? I groan inwardly at the thought.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I try to fake it, looking at phone and seeing four texts and two missed calls, all from ‘Sir’. I should change his name to ‘Pain in the Ass’, but he’ll likely give me a pain in the ass if I do, so I opt not to.
Sir: I didn't mean for you to stop texting me, I meant watch the cursing, kitten.
Sir: Kitten?
Sir: If you don’t respond to me, I’m coming up there.
Sir: You won’t like it when I get there.
It should piss me off how tight a leash he has on me, but for some reason all I find myself doing is smiling down at the phone like a loon.
“Strange. When I get yelled at by Mr. Townsend, I don’t find myself smiling.”
I drop the smile from my face as fast as I can, biting the inside of my mouth. When I look at Cupid he’s rocking his own giant smile, which only makes me burst into giggles. Oh. My. God. I’m like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush on the boy who always picks on her at recess.
Me: Don’t you have meetings you should be at?
Sir: I’m in one right now.
Me: Well, shouldn't you be paying attention and not worrying about my every move?
Sir: I’ll always worry about your every move.
Wow. I wonder if he knows how long ‘always’ is. It’s endearing to think of someone always thinking about me, that I’m always at the forefront of his mind.
Me: Always is a long time, Mr. Townsend
Sir: That’s the plan, kitten. You have appointments. Relax and think of all the dirty things I’m going to do to you when I have you back in my hands.
I had no idea he could be this sweet; that underneath all that broodiness was a marshmallow. Okay, maybe a hard marshmallow, but at the center there’s goo. I wish I knew more about relationships. Women always say men will say anything to get into your pants, but I’m already bought and paid for. This shouldn't have to be some game to him.
“He’s so sweet.”
“Never heard someone call him that before,” Cupid says, making me realize I said that out loud.
I like the idea that only I see his sweet side. That with me he’s somebody else. That only I know that side of him.
I suddenly don’t have the urge to go to the spa anymore after him telling me about all the dirty things he’s going do to me while he kept me in his office. I want to be there now, keeping him entertained while he works. Why didn’t he take me? A surge of jealousy shoots through my body.
“Do I have an access key?”
Cupid reaches into his back pocket, pulling one out. He hands over the white sparkly card that has my name etched at the top. Under my name, it reads Mine in bold letters.
“What does it open?” I want to know my clearance level.
“Everything.”
I bite my lip to stop myself from smiling, but I know he’s not fooled. I want to go pop in on Charles, but I know Cupid would alert him, so I'm going to have to give him the slip. The best place to do that will be at the spa.
“So you having stuff done at the spa too?” I ask nonchalantly.
“I could use a few things.”
I’m guessing not his hair, but I keep that to myself.
“Then let’s do it. I’m excited to get a rub down.” This isn't a lie, but I don’t want to be rubbed down in the spa. I want to be rubbed by Charles in his office, in places the spa won’t touch.
I head to the door, pulling it opening and heading for the elevator. When it arrives, I get on and put my card in so it won’t make any stops on the way down. Funny how quickly things can change. It wasn't even twenty-four hours ago I tried to keep myself as far away from him as possible. Now I’m starting to think I was so angry with him and picked at him because I hated that I was so attracted to him.
Now I can’t bring myself to care. I’m going to have fun for my thirty days. I just have to make sure I keep my heart out of the game. Sex, Mandy. This is all about sex and great orgasms. I’m lying to myself and I know it.
When the elevator dings, I make my exit with Cupid hot on my heels. My shoes click on the marble floor of the casino, over the sounds of the slot machines.
I push my way through the glass double doors and into the spa, and see Kristen standing behind the counter.
“Miss Burch, we have you all set and ready to
go,” she says in a too-chipper voice.
“Perfect. Massage first?”
“Yes, you’ll be with Tina today in room seven. If you’ll just follow me.” She starts to come around the counter. I stop her.
“Oh, no worries, Kristen. I know the way, and I want to use the restroom first.” I make my way past her and hear Cupid call out from behind me, “I’ll see you in the salon after.”
“See you there,” I toss over my shoulder. When I get around the corner, I press myself against the wall and listen for Cupid’s departure. The spa clients go through a changing room, and then out into the different spa areas. Women and men have separate changing rooms that are located in two different hallways.
When I hear Kristen tell Cupid what room he’ll be in, I wait a minute, and then peek around the corner and see the front desk is clear. Normally I would stop and snap at someone for leaving the desk unmanned, but right now I’m thankful.
Making my exit, I head straight for Charles’s office, which is on the same floor as Security. Once there, I slide my key into his office door, opening it a crack and slipping in.
When he said he’d be in meetings, I thought he meant on a conference call, like most of his meetings. When I was here, he never had anyone else in here with him. Ever. But when I walk into his office, Charles is standing behind his desk with his back to me, and there’s a man sitting in one of the black chairs in front of his desk.
I think about slipping out, but I freeze at Charles’s words as he start to turn. “I think you forget there are a lot of holes in the desert, Mr. Sheridan, and I have no problem filling them with men like—” His words stop when his eyes meet mine.
I have no idea what I should do, or if he’s going to be pissed at what I just heard. One thing I do notice is, I’m not scared. Well, maybe a little, but not of him hurting me or throwing me into a hole in the desert.
He cocks his head to the side, a smirk lifting his lips, the hardness that was there moments ago slipping away.
“You are a sneaky kitten, aren't you?”
The man sitting in the chair lifts his head to see who Charles is talking to.
“Don’t fucking look at her.”
The man snaps his head back towards Charles, and I blush at his jealousy.
“We're done here, Slade.” Charles goes around his desk to escort the man from his office. “Kitten, in my chair. Take the long way around.” He motions for me to pass by them on the other side of his desk.
I go to slip around when the man finally rises and sneaks a look my way. “Got yourself a submissive, Mr. Townsend? I’d heard the rumors but—” His words are cut off when Charles grabs him around the throat and pushes him up against the nearest wall.
The man struggles, and his eyes shoot to me, like he’s pleading for me to make him stop.
“Don’t look at her. She won’t help you, and it only pisses me off more you have your eyes on her.”
His eyes go back to Charles, and he tries to speak, but can't. After a moment, Charles loosens his grip a little.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Townsend, and I’ll let everyone on the board at Brock Enterprises know.”
“You do that. They don’t want me coming for them.” Charles lets go of the man, who runs from the room as quickly as possible, coughing the whole way as he tries to catch his breath.
I move quickly, sitting down in Charles’s chair. I wonder if I look as imposing in the chair as he does. I used to think it was the chair. Now as I sit in the thing, I know it’s all him.
Charles doesn't bat an eyelash as he makes his way over to me, making me gasp by picking me up and sitting me on his desk while he takes his chair back. He slides in between my legs, resting my heels on the arms of his chair, with my legs spread wide apart.
He slowly strokes my ankles, and then my calf, making me close my eyes to enjoy the sensation. “You have the most perfect legs I’ve ever seen.” His words draw my eyes back open. After a moment he speaks again. “You’re not running from the room.”
“Should I be?” I say lazily as he continues to rub me.
“No, I would never hurt you.”
“I didn't think you would.” I didn't. Not even for a second did the thought cross my mind. I was just more startled to catch Charles in action. I heard he runs his business with a firmer hand than others. I’d lived on the street for a few years before I came to work with the Cortez brothers. Seeing two men fight is nothing new to me. While we might be in a fancy hotel, men don't like when you fuck with their shit, and I'm guessing that's what happened here.
I’d never seen him act like that until today, but I'm not a terrible judge of people. I feel like if Charles needed to make a threat, it was due. I also know Aaron and Justin wouldn't let me near him if they thought he’d harm a hair on my head, but I’m starting to wonder if they thought about my heart.
“Do you want to ask me?”
I do, but I just shrug, going with my ‘less is more’ rule.
“Kitten, I’ll tell you anything if you ask.” I like that there are no games with him.
“Why do you want to,” I raise my eyebrows, “put him into a hole?”
“Doesn't seem so intimidating the way you say it,” he laughs, but his tone soon turns serious. “They’re after my father’s casinos.”
“I thought your casino wasn't tied with your father’s.” I looked Charles up online before I came to work for him. I knew he owned his own casino and that his father had a string of his own as well, but they aren’t affiliated.
“It’s not. Doesn't mean I wouldn’t step to my father’s defense if I saw someone trying to poach his casinos.”
Leaning up, I palm his cheek, feeling his rough stubble barely breaking the skin. I rub my thumb across it. “Goo in the center,” I say, looking into his dark eyes, and he leans into my hand. Most people probably wouldn't think he cares about his father’s casinos considering how he wouldn't take any of his money. I'd read that too.
“Goo?”
“So hard on the outside, but all gooey and soft on the inside.”
“I’ll always protect what’s mine.”
I understand what he means. I’d do anything for Aaron and Justin. That is part of the reason I’m sitting here right now.
I have to ask. I don’t want it sitting at the back of my mind where I keep pushing it, lying to myself that it doesn't matter.
“Is this about the Cortez brothers?” I drop my hand from his face and motion between us.
Standing up from his chair, he grips my face with both hands, making me look up at him. “Everything is about you.” He takes my mouth in a deep kiss, his tongue pushing past my lips. His hands leave my face and dig into my hair, pulling it down from the knot I have it tied in. The still-damp tresses trail down my back.
I wrap my legs around him, trying to pull him closer, digging my heels into his ass. I want his body against mine. I want to rub myself against his cock.
When I can't get close enough with my body because of the position preventing me, I use my hand on him instead. I grip his hard thick cock, and I have no idea how I’m going to get this thing inside me, but I’ll die trying. He jerks away from my touch like I burned him, pulling his mouth from me, dropping his forehead to mine.
“I have no control around you.” His words are pained.
“I thought the point of this submissive thing was that you have all the control.”
“Never doubt that you’re the one with the control, kitten. You hold all the power.”
“I don’t understand. I don’t know a ton about whatever this is but—” He cuts me off with a soft kiss.
“It’s simple. I like to be in control. It gets me off when I tell you to do something and you do it. But this,” he rubs his thumb across my lips, “what we have here doesn't follow any guidelines. We’ll make it up as we go and do whatever fits us best. Just know that everything I do is for you. Every. Single. Thing. I do. Is because I know what you need, even when sometimes you won’t g
ive yourself that.”
I feel tears sting my eyes. The distance I was trying to keep between us falls away, and I launch myself at him. I try to crawl up his giant body to wrap myself around him. I find his mouth and I kiss him. It’s untrained and sloppy, but I just can’t help myself.
The next thing I know, my back is on his desk and he is over me, taking control of the kiss. It’s hard and desperate. Maybe he’ll finally take me and slide inside me for the first time. I’ll beg. I don’t care anymore.
I push at his shoulder, making him pull back from the kiss and look into my eyes. “Sir, I need more. I want you inside me.”
“Not yet, kitten. But I’ll take the edge off for you until tonight.” With that, he slips down my body, and I drop my legs open, inviting him to take whatever he wants from me. It’s all his. He pushes my dress up, making it bunch around my stomach.
“You seem to be able to listen to one rule today,” he says, seeing my lack of underwear, “but don’t think I’ve forgotten about the others you’ve broken. We’ll get to that later.”
Before I can try to defend myself, his mouth is on me. I buck my hips in response. He grabs hold of them, his fingers digging into my skin as he pins them in place so I can no longer move. I’m helpless against the attack of his mouth on my clit.
My orgasm hits fast, making me scream out his name. Having been on edge since he placed me on his desk, I was ready for some kind of release. I try to jerk away, the sensations too much, but he keeps sucking and licking. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, another orgasm hits, shooting through my body all the way down to my toes. I try to curl them, but my heels prevent me from doing so.
“Sir, please stop, please!” I can’t take anymore, everything is so sensitive.
He pulls his mouth from me, a smirk on his face. “Disobey my rules again and I’ll eat you to four orgasms, one right after another.”
Dropping my legs down, I lie boneless on his desk. I don't think I could survive four orgasms like that.
“Do you know how many times I imagined you like this in here? How hard it was to have you working for me, so close to me, but so far away at the same time?” He voice sounds pained again, and it breaks my heart.