by Lilac James
Bessie felt a blush rising in her cheeks, but the woman’s expression was carefully blank.
The guide held up what looked like a ski mask, except that it was knitted of sparkling silver yarn and only covered from the nose up.
“That’s fine,” Bessie choked, and the woman unbuckled the all-enveloping hood.
Bessie pulled on the new mask and turned to look at herself in the mirrored wall. One dull brown curl peeked out, and she carefully stuffed it out of sight. No clues to her identity, please. Bad enough to have her lips exposed. And he could see her eyes. Thank goodness they were an ordinary blue.
Someone tapped at the door. The guide opened it to admit Mr. X. “I hope this is satisfactory, sir,” she said, waving at Bessie.
“Excellent,” he said and shut the door behind her.
Relief weakened Bessie’s knees, and she sank back into her chair. He hadn’t dumped her midkiss, as it were. “You came back,” she said.
His eyes widened with what she thought might be surprise. “Of course. Did you really think I would leave now?”
“I was afraid so, yes.”
“And that upset you?”
“Well, of course it did.” That came out sounding more irritated than she’d meant. But if ever there was a time to be honest, this was it.
“I apologize.” He stayed just inside the door, his gaze fixed on her. “I want this evening with you very much, and I was impatient with the hoods. Kissing you is very important just now.”
The heat he always seemed to cause enveloped her. She nodded, suddenly shy but still eager.
He crossed to Bessie and held out his hands. She put hers in them, and he pulled her to her feet. “Now,” he said. “Where were we?”
Bessie’s heart thumped in her throat. “There was some discussion of removing my dress, I believe,” she said around her choking excitement.
“Yes. Well…” He tilted her chin up with one finger and put his mouth on hers.
Everything dropped away, until that featherlight touch became her whole world. His mouth was everything she’d imagined a kiss could be, soft and tender and…not enough? Her mouth trembled under his. Even as she shaped the thought, the kiss changed, teasing and coaxing.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself against him.
His tongue traced across her bottom lip. He slipped it into her mouth, and she felt her whole being dissolve into his. The solidness of him, hot against her, hard where she was soft, experienced where she had only imagination to guide her, shattered her world into a million billion splinters of excitement.
He ran his hands down her back, tracing along her spine where the dress left it exposed. When his hands cupped her butt and pulled her even closer, pressing her against his impressive erection, she arched, pushing into him.
She’d dreamed this moment, but her dreams had fallen far short of the reality.
When he lifted his head, she sagged against him, limp with pleasure. With anticipation.
His clever hands went back to the zipper they’d abandoned before the mask change. This time he slid it down, and the fabric eased away, hanging loosely from her shoulders. He stepped back just enough to allow the dress to slide down and puddle at her feet.
She looked up, wanting urgently to see his face. But of course there was only the damn mask. Except that the new mask let her see that he had gray eyes. Dark gray, like steel if steel could be hot with passion. They widened with…surprise? Pleasure?…when he looked down and saw the midnight lace of her bra. She preened in delight, delightfully conscious that her breasts seemed to swell in anticipation of his touch.
He traced the upper edge of the cups with one finger. “Nice,” he whispered.
He had no idea how nice. She lifted her hands to his shoulders and began to ease his jacket away, but he put his hands over hers. “Not yet. Ladies first.”
She stopped obediently, hiding her impatience. At least she thought it was hidden. Maybe not, judging by his soft chuckle.
“You remember what I’m going to do to you, don’t you,” he murmured while he removed her bra. “I’m going to touch you here…” His hand covered her breast. “And here…” He traced a circle around her nipple. “And I’m going to…” He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.
She had a moment of fear…would he leap on her with no further foreplay? She’d read about men like that. But he took his time, just like last night, nuzzling and stroking and teasing until she had no thought but to feel him in her, on her, his weight a wonderful anchor, pressing her into the mattress, mastering her, controlling her every response.
He left no doubt, again, that he was in command of her body. She reached for him, wanting to feel the eagerness of his penis in her hand again. He pulled away before she could touch him. “No. Tonight is for you. I’ll wait until you’re completely ready.”
“I’m ready.”
“You’ll be readier,” he said with the flicker of a smile, and dawdled a line of kisses across her belly.
She tangled her fingers in his thick hair and let herself sink into pure pleasure.
He laughed, a soft puff of sound that ruffled the red curls of her hair, and slipped the thong away with gentle, irresistible fingers. His mouth followed, and she bucked against him. His tongue circled her clit, and she went dizzy. About two seconds before she grabbed his hair and screamed, “Fuck me already,” he moved up to kiss her breast and pulled away from her.
The sound of a foil packet being ripped open stopped her frustrated growl, and he came back to her. His penis, wonderful and hot and huge, throbbed against her entrance.
She pushed against him, frantic to feel him inside her. He pulled back just enough to keep the pressure constant, then surged just a fraction closer to what she wanted. He played with her, teasing her, until she felt the whole head of his penis inside. Finally.
He stopped and raised himself up to look at her. “All right?”
For answer, she locked her legs around him and pulled him to her. “Better than all right.” He pulsed within her, barely moving, each pulse eliciting an answering throb deep within her.
She raised her head and pressed her mouth to his.
He intensified the kiss, his tongue mimicking the movement of his hips, until she could hardly tell which was which.
Muscles she hadn’t known existed came to life deep inside, tightening around his cock, urging him to keep doing it.
He did.
She began to float on a warm ocean of sensation, every nerve ending echoing the vibrations of pleasure, until the pleasure swirled into a tornado funnel, sweeping her around and around until it arrowed into the rush of her orgasm.
The rhythmic clenching of her climax broke his control, and he thrust into her, a hard, frenzied pounding that threw her into coming a second time before the first shudders had died away.
Her last thought before slipping into a doze was, Not bad for a first time.
* * * *
As soon as Bessie stepped out of the shower and finished drying, she dropped the towel. Less than a week ago she’d been a timid virgin, miserable and alone. This morning, Bessie Edna Baxter was a full-fledged woman. No longer a nonfucking virgin. She giggled and stood in front of her full-length mirror. Her body didn’t look different, but now it knew the touch of a man’s hands. A man’s mouth. She shivered with pleasure at the memories. And the touch of a man’s penis.
How had she managed all these years without knowing that? More importantly, how could she manage to get through today? Mr. X’s promise of more burned against the picture of her stuffy office, her stuffy coworkers. Her stuffy Bessie Edna image.
Bessie Edna. She didn’t feel like a Bessie Edna anymore. An old-fashioned cow, that was what her name sounded like. And from now on, she wasn’t playing that song anymore. From now on, she’d be…she’d be…Bex. Bex Baxter. No one with a name like that could be a timid lump of a good girl. She could wear short, clingy dresses and mile-high heel
s…and…she could stop dying her hair that dim brown. Bex Baxter could be a little wild. She could have sex when she wanted, even with strangers at Milady’s Pleasure.
She looked at the clothes hanging in the closet and sighed. If only she had time to go shopping before work. How could she stand to wear one of her shapeless gray sacks ever again?
The midnight-blue dress hung by itself at the back of the closet.
No. She really couldn’t wear that to work. In fact, sharing her new, real self at the office might not be smart. Not with Mr. Ferguson all upset about Hendricks. If Bex showed up at the office, she’d probably get fired on the spot for looking unprofessionally sexy, and Bessie needed the job.
Bessie could get through the day. Bex would wait for tonight.
She sighed again and pulled a boxy gray suit out and removed it from its hanger.
* * * *
When Reece walked into his office, his admin knelt on the floor, doing something with files in the bottom drawer of the cabinet. In spite of her dull brown hair pulled up in a dull brown knot, in spite of her awful shapeless clothes and clunky old-lady shoes, a wave of desire hit him. Only because she reminded him of Ms. Mystery on her knees in front of him, his cock in her mouth, and her talented fingers caressing his balls. He should have realized from the way she’d first touched him that she’d enjoy sex. Had been born for it, seemed like.
Damn. Waiting for tonight would be hard enough—yes, pun there—without dwelling on last night. But he was pretty sure those images were not going to be easy to ignore.
“Oh!” Bessie scrambled to her feet. “I didn’t realize you were here, Reece.”
Good. She’d finally gotten over calling him sir all the time. And somehow she’d lost that beaten-down look she’d had last week. “You’re looking very nice today, Bessie.”
She glowed as though he’d given her diamond earrings. “Thank you.”
In fact, she looked very good. He smiled.
She smiled back. Something hot and witchy about it, something that made him think of naked bodies and—stop that.
But she had a nice smile. He let his gaze drift down her body. He remembered the flash of leg he’d gotten at that meeting and wondered what else might be hidden under the shapeless suit she wore.
“There you are.” His uncle’s voice thundered down the hall. “We need to talk.” He brushed past Reece and went into the inner office.
Bessie’s smile faded. “I think you’ve been summoned. I hope nothing new is wrong.”
Of course something new is wrong. He should have known he wouldn’t get an easy day with time to dwell on Ms. Mystery and the coming evening. “Probably the same old mess.” He stood for a minute, unable to pull himself away from Bessie’s suddenly intriguing gaze. She had that wide-eyed, “you’re gorgeous” look she’d given him the day he’d arrived. Only now…today something had been added. Something smoky, a little bit sophisticated, something…tempting. Something a little bit like Ms. Mystery, in fact. He had to get a grip on himself. Ms. Mystery had turned him into an uncontrolled, testosterone-overloaded hard-on. Not exactly the right persona for the workplace.
“Reece,” his uncle bellowed.
“Later,” he said and bolted to join Joe.
“He’s in it with her,” Joe announced as soon as Reece closed the door. “That miserable, no-good…I can’t think of anything bad enough to call him.” He shook the fistful of papers he held at Reece, sputtering incoherent curses.
Reece took the papers and pressed his uncle into a chair. “Calm down, Uncle Joe. We’ll work it out.” He crossed to a cabinet built into the bookcase on one wall, poured a small dollop of brandy into a snifter, and handed it to Joe. “Here.”
Joe took it but didn’t drink. “Are you crazy? It’s eight o’clock in the morning.”
“I think you need it. Anyway, as you keep telling me at lunch, it’s five o’clock somewhere. Drink up and let’s figure out what to do.”
When Joe’s color receded from its alarming near purple to a more normal angry flush, Reece relaxed a fraction. “Now. I take it we’ve established that the blackmail note came from Hendricks’s computer?”
“Yes it did. But that’s not the worst of it.”
Reece had a split-second vision of London, cool and gray and peaceful. Why had he left to accept this job? But that was nothing but wishful thinking. London had been cold, wet, and a real zoo. “What else?”
“Hendricks’s wife threw him out when she found out about his affair. He’s living with Lasky.”
“That’s bad?” Sounded pretty good to him. Should make it easier to charge both of them, which would make anything they said suspect.
“I hired him,” Joe exploded. “It was my choice to let him into the company. And to promote him to head of HR. My fault.” He pounded the desk with a fist. “My fault,” he repeated, his voice rising to a roar.
Reece could understand the pain of that. “That’s rough. It’s always a blow when someone you trusted goes bad. But it happens, Joe. To all of us. We’ll fix this, so relax.”
Joe dropped his head into his hands. “A blow. You could say that. That man came to my house, ate at my table. His wife and mine were friends. And all the time…”
“Not all the time, Joe. I looked at the employment records. Lasky was hired about six months ago. Apparently his affair with her started a couple of months after that.”
Joe looked up. “So it’s like some midlife crisis thing?”
“Looks like it. Infatuation. I’m told Lasky is—uh”—What term would Joe understand best? The guys he’d talked to said things like “babelicious” and “bangable.” “Quite a dish.”
“Why couldn’t he just buy a red convertible and a toupee like other men? He’ll be sorry for this.”
“Probably. But not our problem, Joe. Once the two of them are charged with blackmail, they can do or say anything they want.”
“Are you sure? The company’s reputation…we have to come out looking good.”
“The blackmail will discredit them. The media will play up all the juicy details, but the company will weather this. We’ll have the high road. Listen to me, Joe.” Reece waited until his uncle took the last sip of brandy and set the glass on the table beside him. “The company will be all right.” He spoke the words with gravitas, with weight, and spaced them evenly. “You have to back off. You’re killing yourself with the stress.”
“And I’m not helping the company, am I?” Joe leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
Hallelujah. After his talk with his mother, Reece had been afraid Joe would go completely bitchcakes over the whole fraternization issue. This sounded like the old Joe, the dynamo who had ably run the company for the past who knew how many years. Thank God. If his mom could help bring some of her brother-in-law’s ideas into the twenty-first century, all would be well. “No, you’re not.” Reece leaned forward and gazed at him thoughtfully. This would be the time, all right. “Do you trust me to do the job you hired me for?”
Joe’s eyes popped open. “Of course I do.”
“You need a vacation, Joe. You need to let me do my job without worrying about you.”
Joe looked stricken for a moment before he nodded.
“Talk to my mother. She has a good idea about your vacation.“
Joe nodded again, but his expression shouted defeat. “Might as well. Guess I’m getting too old for this.”
“Nope. Not too old. You need a rest, that’s all.” A rest, and some updated attitudes. Reece grinned, hoping to provoke some positive response. “After all, you hired me. That was a pretty good decision.”
Joe seemed to gather himself. “Yes. Yes, it was.” He stood. “I will go talk to Susie. Vacation’s a good idea.” He walked out of the office, not with his usual master-of-the-universe stride but at least with some focus and direction.
Thank goodness. Seeing his uncle slumping into irrational behavior had, to be honest, scared the shit out of him. And much as she�
�d tried to hide it, out of his mom too. He grabbed the phone and called her to let her know Joe would be receptive to a vacation.
He’d just put down the phone when Bessie tapped on the door.
“You had six calls while you were with Mr. Ferguson,” she said, placing the notes on his desk. “And Mr. Hibben would like to talk with you.”
She had pretty hands. As soft looking as Ms. Mystery’s. “Good. I’d like to talk to him. Ask him to come up, please.”
“Yes. Anything else?”
Take off that dumb suit and bend over my desk.
She looked startled, and for a moment he feared he’d said it out loud. Her gaze had locked on his, her eyes wide with—shock? He figured she’d seen the lust that had flashed through him like a wildfire. Get a grip, Reece. “No, that’s all. For now.”
What the hell was wrong with him? If Joe caught him trying to corrupt Bessie, the company good girl, he’d nail his balls to the wall. Not to mention that he had this thing going with Ms. Mystery, and he normally didn’t juggle women like ten pins. One at a time was his motto.
Last night should have taken the edge off, but something about Ms. Mystery had him hotter than the lowest fires of hell. Which was where he’d end up if Joe had the least hint of an idea what he was thinking. All he had to do was see someone female to go to instant woody. Except he’d passed the receptionist, a tidy blonde package, and hadn’t had a reaction. Not till he saw Bessie kneeling…
Oh hell. Just hell.
Could this day please be over?
Chapter Nine
Bessie put down the phone with a shaking hand. He’d looked at her. Like she was a woman. That hadn’t ever happened at the office before.
Or was it her imagination? Maybe it was residual hotness left over from last night. She wiggled a little in her chair at the memory of Mr. X’s engorged penis prodding at her, sinking into her wet folds, filling her… What would it be like with Reece doing that to her? With her?