by Eva Luxe
“Look, Damien, we’re good lawyers who are doing the best we can,” Ron says, as if talking to a petulant child. “I can assure you that you’ve been in good hands and it remains that way still. But we didn’t have an offer like this on the table before. It just changes things.”
“How so?” I demand, resenting him for even suggesting I settle. Especially settle like this.
I want a drink, even though I don’t drink. I want to run a marathon. I want Katie.
I need Katie.
Now more than ever.
I’d done a good job of keeping things professional all week long. I know that if I take her again, I’m going to want to make her mine for real. And that’s a fucking scary thought. I was trying to wait until my trial is over to even let my mind wander of in that direction.
Of commitment. Of a real relationship.
Something I never thought I’d have and apparently, she doesn’t either. If she would even want me in that way. I don’t even know.
I still can't believe how far we'd come. She was an unruly employee so I had had to discipline her. I just didn't know she'd enjoy it so much. That as I was spanking her bare, red ass, she'd cry out "More, Boss." And that I'd want to keep giving it to her.
“You can never be certain at trial,” Ron says. “Accepting a settlement would give us absolute certainty. You could walk away without any unknowns.”
“Yeah, and without my dignity and integrity,” I tell him, getting up from my chair. “And everything else that matters the most to me.”
“Damien, where are you going?” Ron calls after me as I head down the hall. “Just think about it. Please.”
“I’ll think about it,” I assure him.
But first I need a distraction.
When I get back to my office, Katie’s there. She’s sitting in my computer chair and she looks up at me with such an innocent, happy grin that I know I’m making the right decision by coming to her. Even though I know it means giving her my heart.
I close and lock the door to my office. At first I chuckled to myself when I found out that the doors here have locks— of course they do. But I wasn’t going to be one of those guys. A guy who would have sex in his office. Until I got with Katie and started doing a lot of things I never thought I’d do before.
“I need you,” I tell her, picking her up and putting her on my desk. “I need you right now.”
She looks surprised, but happy.
“But there are people around…” she says, looking towards the door.
“Shhh,” I tell her, placing my hand over her mouth. I’m always having to do that to her. But I fucking love it. “Are you going to let me fuck you or not?”
“Yes, Boss,” she says, as I unzip my fly and put on a condom. She’s sitting on my desk and straddling me.
I pause and look into her eyes. I know this is for us. This is what will make us the couple we were meant to be but were both fighting against becoming due to our own inner demons.
I pull her panties to the side and enter her, fast and strong, looking down at her with my hand still on her mouth.
“Are you going to let me take you anytime and anywhere I want?” I ask her, as I thrust in and out of her.
“Yes, Boss,” she moans.
“Are you going to be my employee as well as my slutty little girlfriend?”
“Yes, Boss,” she says, smiling up at me at the way I said “girlfriend.”
“And when I come and fuck you on my desk in the middle of the day where anyone walking by could come in and see us, what are you going to say?”
“More, Boss,” she says, as she closes her eyes and lets out a soft groan. “I’m coming. I’m coming right now.”
I pump in and out of her until her orgasm is done and then I decide I just have to have more of her right now. I know it’s risky but I don’t care.
I pick her up and turn her around so that her ass is sticking up in front of me. I pull her thong all the way over to the side and spread her pussy and her ass wide open so I can get a really good look.
I take off my tie and use it to bind her hands to the chair on the other side of my desk.
I stick my cock inside her pussy and fuck her more, banging her pelvis against my desk.
“Are you going to let me tie you up and take you any time I want, right here in my office?” I ask her.
“Yes, Boss,” she says.
“I can take your pussy and then later I’ll take your ass?”
“Yes, Boss,” she says, her breath quickening, betraying fear mixed with excitement.
“It’s going to hurt,” I tell her, sticking a finger in her ass hole. “Whenever I do it, it’s going to hurt.”
“Oh, my god,” she says, pulling closer to the desk. “That does hurt.”
“Don’t pull away from me,” I tell her, grabbing her hips and pulling her back closer to me as I fuck her pussy. I grab her hair and pull on that too. “What do you say when your boss does what he wants to you?”
“More, Boss,” she says, panting and trying not to be too loud.
I can tell she’s on the verge of coming again and I am too. I do want to take her ass right here on my desk but that can wait until another time. Right now, I need the sweet release of an orgasm.
“I’m coming in your pussy,” I tell her, as I explode.
“I’m coming too,” she says, moaning. “It feels so good when you come in my pussy. Come more, Boss. Come more.”
“I am,” I tell her, knowing I’ll be coming more for her for a very long time. “Your boss is coming more for you.”
We hurry to put ourselves back together before anyone can find us. I’m sure that Ron is awaiting a decision about the settlement offer in my case. But I need to get out of here.
“Come on,” I say, grabbing Katie’s hand. I need to take her with me.
Chapter 20 – Katie
I have no idea where Damien’s taking me, right up to the point where he turns off the highway. I’ve learned to love going along for the ride though.
I can’t believe he just fucked me in his office during the work day. We really have taken things to a whole new level. In more ways than one, considering how he called me his “girlfriend.”
Girlfriend. I can’t believe it. Now he’s my boss and my boyfriend.
“What is this?” I ask, as he pulls up to a park.
“You’ll see,” he says, and then he shuts off the car and comes around to my side of the car to open the door for me.
The first thing I see is a sign. “The Play Place.”
I look around at a kids’ playground, full of toddlers and children running around and playing on equipment. As I look closer, I can see that it’s not the kind of playground equipment I’m used to seeing at parks. It’s more like trampolines and climbing gyms and little rides that spin or jump. Giant drum and pipe- shaped instruments for them to bang on and play.
Underneath that sign is another that says, “For kids of all abilities.”
“Was this park your idea?” I guess, knowing that he has the toy company for kids with disabilities.
He nods his head and we sit down on giant bench-like swings that can be used by kids in wheelchairs.
“I helped design and built it,” he says. “My company funded all of it. That’s why we don’t have a ton of money for Asher’s and Ron’s legal bills.”
He chuckles.
I just stare at him.
“This is amazing,” I tell him. “It’s so very nice.”
He takes my hand in his own.
“I wanted to show you this because it’s my favorite place and because I have a hard decision to make,” he tells me. I nod, encouraging him to continue.
“I’ve been offered a settlement in my case.”
“That’s good,” I say right away. “It means they don’t think their patent infringement claims against you are very good.”
“I know that in the legal world it’s viewed as a good thing. A sure bet. But I’ve alway
s been someone who will take a risk to get what I truly want.”
I nod.
“That’s true,” I tell him. “You are that type of person and that’s part of what I love about you.”
Holy crap. I just said I love him. Kind of.
But he just smiles, as if he already knew it was true. And I guess it’s been true for some time now. Not that I’m any expert on what love is. But I think it feels something a lot like this.
“The monetary part of the settlement is very favorable,” he says.
“That’s good,” I say again.
“But it’s because the main thing they want is for me to stop making toys.”
I look at him.
“That’s not good at all.”
“Ron doesn’t fucking get it,” he shakes his head. “He says I’ve made lots of money off of what started as a humble hobby. He says the bulk of my money comes from my other companies. He’s right about that. But he doesn’t know what this means to me.”
I wait, knowing that he wants to tell me more.
“My mom has a rare form of autism and mental illness,” he tells me. “Her brain functions differently than a lot of other peoples’.”
I nod.
“She’s very smart at numbers and certain mental activities but she’s not at communicating with people or having social skills. She’s actually not very functional, at least not anymore.”
“I’m so sorry,” I tell him.
“I know it’s not my fault, but I’ve always felt a little responsible,” he says. “I started making these toys because they help her. And because I think that if she could have had toys like this— and a place like this— when she was a kid, then she would have been a lot better off today.”
“That’s not your fault,” I tell him. “You couldn’t have possibly helped back then. And you do everything you can now.”
“I know,” he says. “But it wasn’t always like that.”
He sighs, and then continues.
“When I was younger— it was many years ago now— I went to college out of state because my girlfriend at the time went there. My mom couldn’t really handle it. I had always been her support. She got even worse.”
“That really sucks,” I tell him, knots forming in my stomach. “I can only imagine the weight of the responsibility of that.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. “And the relationship didn’t work out. She left me, actually. Looking back, it was a good thing. We weren’t even a good match. But at the time, it made me feel I had left my mom for nothing. That I couldn’t count on anyone.”
“And that’s why you don’t believe in love,” I tell him.
It all makes sense now.
“It’s why I didn’t believe in love.”
He looks straight at me now. I feel compelled to share as well.
“I don’t believe in love because my mom and dad hate each other but just stay married for appearances,” I tell him. “My dad’s a pastor and for religious reasons they had to stay together and we all have to act like everything is fine when it’s not.”
“I figured it was something like that,” he says.
“Yeah, but it’s more embarrassing than that. And it causes my anxiety to flare up just thinking about it. But you should know. Because we’re together now.”
He squeezes my hand, which gives me the strength to continue.
“When I was sixteen, I had my first job helping out the church secretary,” I tell him. “She told me that we’d go together to the rectory and she’d show me where the books are kept and how to do them. So, we walked over there together and when we walked in, my dad had this… woman… sitting on his lap.”
“Oh, my god,” he says. “That’s horrible. For you to have to discover that.”
“Yeah and she was the associate youth pastor. Not too much older than I was. Fresh out of youth group and high school herself. So, I’m such a hypocrite to have… fallen for you like this.”
He puts his arm around me.
“You are not,” he reassures me. “I’m not married. I’m not a pastor pretending to be one thing but actually being another.”
“That’s true,” I tell him, leaning up against his broad shoulder. “With you, what you see is what you get.”
“Whether people like it or fucking not,” he says, and we both start laughing.
I’m amazed that he can make me laugh about something that once seemed so awful and depressing. He and I are definitely great together.
“So, what happened, with your dad and the associate youth pastor?” he asks.
I look at him and shrug.
“I don’t know. He convinced the church secretary that it was all a big mistake. That she had just, like, fallen into his lap or whatever.”
He laughs a sarcastic laugh.
“And she promised not to tell anyone as long as they stopped. So, the youth pastor went away to college. And my dad continued living a miserable life with my mom.”
“She never found out?” he asks me.
“Not about her,” I tell him. “And at first I felt really guilty about that. Unsure of whether I should tell her or not.”
“I’m sure,” he says. “That would be a hard decision.”
“But then one day he had had a bit to drink and he was texting someone right in front of me, and I saw that it said XO in the text. And it wasn’t to my mom. He doesn’t talk like that to her.”
“Oh no,” he says. “More lies and deceit.”
“Exactly.”
“So, what did you do?”
He eventually passed out on the couch and I picked up his phone and looked at it. I thought the messages were with the same girl— the associate youth pastor. But they were from another girl.”
“Oh wow.”
“Yeah, exactly. And one of the text said, ‘I can’t text you as much anymore now that my wife knows. We have to have a cooling off period until she calms back down.’”
“So, she did know,” he says.
“Yeah, at least about that one.”
I shrug.
“I guess for whatever reason, the marriage works enough for her to stay in it,” I tell him. “And that’s why I started to think, fuck it. Marriage sucks.”
“I can understand,” he says, taking my chin and lifting it up so that I’m looking into his eyes. “It makes perfect sense why you would think that. I’ve been quite the cynic myself. But I love you, Katie Finnegan. And I won’t let you down. Our relationship won’t suck.”
Oh, my god.
I feel like crying. But instead I smile.
“I love you too, Damien Hudson. Boss.”
“That’s boss and boyfriend to you,” he says, and then he kisses me.
“Oh, by the way,” he says, the look on his face turning proud. “I heard you moved out of your parents’ house. And now that I know the full story, I definitely think that was the right decision.”
“It was time for me to move out anyway,” I tell him.
I can read Faulkner books anywhere, but at least I don’t have to put up with my dad yelling at me or my mom first. And maybe it’s time to move on to something lighter and more fun. Maybe I’ll give romance books a try, now that I’m starting to believe that they can come true.
“But you’re right, it was definitely overdue.”
He kisses me again.
“So, what are you going to do about the settlement?” I ask him, when he lets go of my tongue with his own. “Take it, or not?”
“What do you think?” he asks me, with a grin on his face.
I’m glad that his mood has turned around. And so has mine.
“I think hell no you’re not going to take it,” I tell him. “Because you’re Damien Hudson. You’re going to fight and win, and keep making toys for your mom.”
“And for kids and adults like her,” he adds.
“Yes, exactly.”
“No one can stop me,” he says. “I’m not going to agree not to make them anymore. And I just n
eeded to come talk to you to figure all of that out.”
“Talk to me? You mean fuck me in your office.”
“And that,” he says, as he raises his eyebrows mischievously, a sparkle appearing in his handsome brown eyes.
We head back to the office, for him to tell Ron his decision. And I have never felt happier about anything in my life as I do about our relationship.
Epilogue
SIX MONTHS LATER
DAMIEN
We're at an Italian restaurant near the courthouse when Ron gets the phone call. Ruby, Ron, Asher, Madilyn, Katie and I were pretending to enjoy cold calzone that none of could really eat because all of us have been waiting to find out the jury's verdict in my patent case.
"Thank you, Bailiff," Ron says. "We'll be right there."
"Jury's back," he says to the rest of us.
We rush back to the courthouse and I squeeze Katie's hand the entire time.
"It'll be okay," she says. "Everything will work out."
I sure hope she's right. Even though I know by now that she always is.
Sure enough, once we're back in the courthouse the foreman announces a verdict in my favor.
"Yes!" Asher shouts, jumping up as if the victory belongs more to him than to me— whose case it was— or Ron— who was the lawyer who did most of the work on it.
I look at Katie with a knowing smile, and she elbows Madilyn and says, "He's quite the showboater, isn't he?"
"Always," she says, with a grin.
The first thing I do is kiss Katie. I don't even care that the judge looks at me funny. The second thing I do is call my mom.
"Damien?" she says, sounding lucid today, thank goodness.
"Mom, I won the case," I tell her. "I can keep making your games."
"That's great, Damien," she says. "And make sure you let me know what number comes after eight hundred and four."
I guess she's not entirely lucid. But that's okay. She'll understand better when I come see her and show her my improved Dominos-like game I made with her help.
"Was she happy?" Katie asks me, as I hang up.
"She sure was."
"At least one of our parents are."
"Hrmph."
Katie's dad was none too thrilled when he found out she's with me of all people. But I’m sure he'll get over it soon. It's not like he's one to talk.