Tempted by the CEO: An Office Romance

by Iona Rose

  Brett touches my arm.

  I breathe in audibly and look back at him.

  His eyes search my face. “I don’t like the idea of you wandering the streets waiting for him to go away. Would you like to hang out for a couple of hours instead?”

  The stubborn part of me wants to say no, but luckily, that’s not the part that’s in charge of this choice. The part making the decisions right now is the part that really doesn’t want to face Gary. I tell myself it’s nothing to do with the tingling in my arm at Brett’s touch. “That would be great,” I say gratefully. “Unless you have plans of course. I don’t want to spoil your evening or anything.”

  “Well, now that you mention it, hanging out with someone I can laugh with would kind of spoil my plans to sit alone in front of the TV.” Brett smirks.

  I elbow him and laugh, but I settle back into the seat and that gives him his answer.

  He leans forward slightly and talks to the driver, giving him an address I don’t recognize. I don’t ask where we’re going. I don’t care. Anywhere with Brett will be better than being stuck here, forced to face Gary or risking having to wander the streets all night.

  We drive in comfortable silence for a time. I look out of the window, trying to get my bearings, but we’re driving though a part of the city I don’t know very well. We turn onto a road that seems to lead out into the countryside. We drive down a narrow road lined by bushes and the driver pulls over.

  Brett starts to get out of the car.

  “Wait,” I say. “Where are we?”

  “What’s wrong?” Brett smirks. “Scared you’ll get dirty or something?” He gets out of the car without waiting for an answer.

  I roll my eyes as I clamber out of my side and look around. We’re really in the middle of nowhere, but I’m not particularly afraid of getting dirty, but if Brett wants to go walking through the fields, then I’m certainly not going to be the one to try and stop him.

  “This way,” Brett says, walking alongside the bushes.

  Shrugging, I run a few steps to catch up with him and fall into step beside him. “So, do you come here often?” I joke.

  “Oh, I’m a regular hiker,” Brett jokes back.

  I shake my head. He’s clearly not going to tell me why we’re out here, and I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of keeping asking him. Right now, I’m just pleased we seem to have slipped back into a bit more of a friendly relationship.

  Brett pauses and looks both ways along the road, so I think we’re about to cross the road, but instead, he takes hold of my hand and pulls me towards the bushes. “Through here.” He squeezes through a tiny gap in the bushes and pulls me through behind him before I can protest or ask him any questions.

  “What the …” I start as I stumble out of the bushes. I trail off when I see where we are. A golf course is spread out before us, the green expanse of neat lawn and sand bunkers seeming to go on forever.

  “Not too shabby, right?” Brett is still holding my hand in his and he starts to walk onto the course pulling me along behind him. “I hope you don’t mind sand,” he winks at me, looking back over his shoulder.

  The wink and the feel of my hand in his leaves me speechless and I just shake my head. In that moment, I would have followed him into a field freshly spread with manure. Sand is nothing.

  He leads me to one of the larger bunkers and we slip and slide down the edge and into the center where it’s flatter. He sits down and pulls me down beside him.

  “Are we allowed to be out here?” I ask, looking around nervously, waiting for a security guard to appear over the edge of the bunker and chase us away.

  “Sure we are,” Brett replies.

  I’m not entirely convinced that’s true. “So why did we sneak in through a gap in the bushes?” I challenge him.

  Brett grins and lays back, folding his hands beneath his head and looking up at the sky. “Relax Opal,” he smiles as I peer down at him. “I own the club. I sneaked us in the back way because I couldn’t be bothered with making nice with everyone on the way through the club that’s all.”

  I peer at him for a moment longer, waiting for him to laugh or something, but he doesn’t. Something tells me he’s telling the truth. I decide to believe him. I lay back beside him on the sand. It’s warm on my back and I have to admit it feels nice lying here. I can almost imagine we’re at the beach somewhere. It’s just a shame I’m in a work’s dress rather than a swim suit.

  “Remember I told Mr. Simmons at the party that I’d been in France for a year expanding my business?” Brett says.

  “Mmhmm,” I say.

  “My father tried to block the deal, but he failed. I was opening another club in the South of France. This one was my first one and it will always be my baby, but the real money is where the rich tourists are,” he says.

  His revelation surprises me a little and I push myself up onto my elbows, “I thought your business was asset management, the same as your father’s?”

  “Oh, fuck no,” Brett says with a visible shudder. “My parents wanted me to take over the company, and as such, they primed me all of my life with the knowledge of how the business works. That’s how I was able to step in for my father. But it’s never been anything I would choose to get involved with. There’s plenty of ways to make money, and I’d rather make mine by giving people something they can enjoy, rather than investing money and managing assets.”

  “I know what you mean,” I say, laying back down beside him. “But for me, I kind of enjoy the assets side of things. You know, the thrill of the chase, finding a perfect investment opportunity for a client and then playing the game until they get it.”

  “You like the thrill of the chase huh?” Brett says a smile in his voice. “And then playing the game?”

  “Yeah, I always though asset management sounded pretty boring, but when I first started working for your father, it was a case of a job is a job. But then I started to see how the business worked and I guess I was hooked.”

  “It sounds more like a plan to catch a guy. Chase them, play them, and toss them away,” Brett says.

  He’s still smiling, but I’m worried suddenly that he’s making this about us. I open my eyes and jump slightly.

  Brett has pushed himself up on his elbows and rolled onto his side so he’s looming right over me. He doesn’t look in the least bit pissed off.

  Now, I see he’s just teasing me. “I don’t chase guys. They’re the ones who chase me.” I grin.

  Brett laughs softly. He reaches out and rubs his hand lightly over my stomach.

  My body responds instantly to his touch, my skin puckering beneath my dress and my heartbeat speeding up.

  “That sounds more likely to be the case.” He gets to his knees and in one smooth movement, he’s kneeling between my legs, his hands on my sides. “Ok, so pretend I was chasing you. Now I’ve caught you. What happens next?” he asks, looking down at me with a lust filled grin.

  I know where this is going to go, and I know we’re treading on dangerous ground. Can I risk this happening again? I know I shouldn’t, but we got past it last time and still managed to work together effectively. So this time, I think we’ll both handle it a whole lot better. “That depends on what you want to happen,” I say, pushing myself back up onto my elbows.

  I expect Brett to lean down and kiss me, but he surprises me.

  Instead of kissing me, he starts to tickle my ribs, making me shriek with laughter and try to squirm away. He holds me tightly, so there’s nowhere I can roll to and escape his fingers. “What if they decide they want to tickle you?” He laughs.

  He’s still ticking me and I laugh and wriggle, managing to get onto my side, but no further. I am both desperate for the tickling to stop, and willing him to keep touching me. I see a way to make both things happen and I wait for the right moment. I roll back onto my back, still laughing and trying to ignore the tickling sensation in my ribs. I flick my legs up, wrapping them around Brett’s waist and t
hrowing myself to one side. “This happens!” I laugh as I manage to get Brett onto his back.

  As he peers up at me, the laughter dies on his face and that lustful look is back in his eyes.

  Suddenly, I’m very much aware that I am straddling Brett’s thighs, my dress hiked up to my waist. I clear my throat and start to move to one side.

  Brett is faster and before I know it, he’s sitting up, his arms wrapped around my shoulders. He pulls me closer and I’m sitting in his lap. I wrap my legs around his waist, throwing caution to the wind. He leans down and his lips brush against mine.

  I wrap my arms around him, shifting in his lap to find a comfortable spot. He pushes his tongue into my mouth, no longer playing. I kiss him with everything I have held back all week. The anger, the pain, and the overwhelming, all consuming desire I feel every time I look at him.

  My hands roam over his back, feeling the grains of sand clinging to his shirt. I untuck his shirt and push my hands beneath it. I take several grains of sand with me, making his back feel rough and scratchy but I don’t care and if it bothers him.

  Brett doesn’t stop kissing me to complain. His hands skim over my sides, over the ribs he was just tickling, but this time, he doesn’t tickle me. Instead, he spreads fire through my body with desperate caresses. He moves his hands to my hips. His left hand stays on my hip, but his right hand keeps moving, skimming over my bunched up dress. He puts his hand on my knee then moves it higher, pushing it under my dress and over my thigh.

  I gasp as he runs his nails over my skin, teasing me. My thigh is on fire and my pussy is already wet, already craving his cock. I need him to fill me up, to make me come like he did last week. I need to feel that moment of reckless abandonment, when I stopped thinking and started only feeling.

  Moving my hands over his back, I bring them around to the front of his body and grasp his waistband. He doesn’t stop me this time when I find the button and release it. I am reaching for his zipper when a voice yells from above us.

  “What the hell do you two think you’re doing? Get out of here right now!”

  14

  Gasping again for a different reason this time, I push myself away from Brett. I’m skidding over the sand on my ass, trying desperately to pull my dress back down.

  Brett, casual as ever, stays where he is. He stretches his legs out, unashamed even as I blush a deep scarlet color. He leans back on his palms and tilts his face up to the sun. “Good evening Carl,” he says casually and nods. “Stewart.”

  I forget my embarrassment for a moment as I frown at his familiarity with the security guards, but then I remember he owns the place.

  The two young looking security guards are both blushing as deep a shade of red as I am. “O-oh. Umm… hi B-Brett,” the one who yelled stutters out.

  The other one looks a little bit more in control of himself. But then he wasn’t the one who busted his boss with a girl and tried to kick him out. “Sorry Brett. We didn’t realize it was you,” he says.

  “I should hope not, seeing as you tried to kick me out,” Brett says good naturedly. He stands and turns to face the two young men.

  They both shrink away, obviously expecting to be fired. Brett smiles at them and they exchange a glance. They don’t look entirely sure of what’s going on here.

  I have to admit I’m stumped myself as what Brett is going to do. I mean surely he can’t fire them. We did sneak in through the bushes. It’s not like they could have known it was him.

  “Relax guys,” Brett says. “You’re not in any trouble. In fact, I should probably commend you both on doing a thorough job of your patrol coming right out here.”

  The two security guards smile uncertainly.

  “I trust you’ll both be discrete about this,” he adds.

  They both nod furiously.

  “Of course,” one of them says,

  I know it’s a lie. It’s like one of the office staff catching Mr. Connell with a woman in his office. That shit would be around the building like wild fire. Brett probably knows it too, but it’s not like he’s married or anything, and no one here knows I work for him, even temporarily, so I guess it doesn’t really matter. They’ll gossip about it until something else comes along, and then they’ll move on.

  “And maybe you should shorten your patrol area for the rest of the night,” Brett says.

  “Yes. Yes, of course,” one of them says.

  If he thinks anything is going to happen between us now, he’s very wrong. This is the most embarrassing moment of my life, and there’s no way I’m risking a repeat performance of it.

  The two security guards stand staring at Brett nervously.

  “So, do you think you two can get back to work then?” Bret smirks at them. “Or are you waiting for an encore?”

  The two security guards both scramble away at the exact same moment, and

  I can’t help but laugh.

  Brett sits back down beside me. “Well, that was new and awkward wasn’t it?”.

  Before I can respond with a resounding yes, Brett starts to laugh. It’s a full on belly laugh, the kind that once it gets hold of you, you just can’t stop it.

  It’s so good to hear him laugh like this. Obviously, I’ve heard him laugh, but not like this. Not where he lets himself lose control so completely that tears are streaming down his face. He looks so much younger, so care free, and although I’m still mortified about being caught with my dress around my waist, I find myself joining in. His laughter is infectious and soon, we’re both laughing, tears running down both of our faces.

  Brett presses his hand to his side. “Stitch,” he gets out between laughs.

  Somehow, that just makes it funnier and our laughter goes on. When we finally get control of ourselves, my ribs are hurting.

  Brett reaches out and wipes a stray tear from my face. “God Opal, what are you doing to me?” he says, shaking his head.

  “What am I doing to you?” I laugh. “I’m the one who got caught with my skirt around my waist.”

  “Yeah, that was pretty funny.” Brett smirks.

  I elbow him.

  He shoves me gently by bumping my arm with his. “Come on, admit it. It was funny.”

  “Ok, it was pretty funny,” I have to admit.

  “And hey, at least they weren’t your staff. I can’t believe I got caught by my own staff. They’ll be having a field day back in the club house now,” he says.

  “Oh like you’ve never brought a woman here before,” I tease him. “Even if they didn’t catch you in the act, they knew what you were doing out here.”

  “I can hand on my heart say I have never done anything like this before Opal. That’s what I mean. You just … you have this effect on me, like when I’m near you, I just can’t control myself.”

  “It works both ways,” I confirm. “Believe it or not, I’m not usually one for rolling around in sand pits.”

  “It’s a bunker,” he corrects me.

  I shake my head. “Like that matters.” I stretch out on the sand and lay down, resting my head in Brett’s lap. “So this effect we have on each other? You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

  “Well, isn’t it?” Brett says. “I’m your boss, Opal. This is so unprofessional, it’s unreal.”

  “It’s only temporary though,” I remind him. “Obviously, we’ll have to learn some self control short term, but once your dad comes back to work, well then ….” I trail off, leaving the rest unsaid. I don’t need to spell it out to him. Once his dad is back, he won’t be my boss anymore and we can do what we want. Although, maybe not in such a public place next time.

  “Actually, it might be a little bit more permanent than that,” he says, brushing a strand of hair back from my forehead.

  I frown up at him.

  “When I told you earlier I was angry at my father, that’s why. Before you came to the meeting, I was meant to be having lunch with my mom. What I didn’t know was it actually lunch with both of my parents where they tr
ied to railroad me into taking over the company permanently.”

  “And you’re considering it?” I ask, surprised to hear this after what he said about hating asset management.

  He shrugs. “I don’t know what to do Opal. I mean it’s not what I want. It’s not what I’ve ever wanted. And whenever they’ve brought this up in the past, I’ve had no trouble saying no. But it’s different now. As they pointed out, this place runs itself, and the place in France is the same. Both clubs have excellent managers and I don’t need to be involved in the day to day running of the place.” He stops talking for a moment.

  I don’t say anything. I don’t think he wants or needs my advice. He just wants to talk it through, to think out loud. I know I’m right when he goes on without waiting for any kind of answer from me.

  “See here’s the thing. This time, I heard myself saying I would think about it. Because how do you say no, when your father has just had a heart attack? What if I turn them down and he goes back to work, because he’s made it clear there’s no one else he trusts to hand the company over to. Then the stress gets to him and he has another heart attack? What if he isn’t so lucky next time and it kills him? That will be on me.”

  I don’t know what to say to this. I want to tell him it won’t be his fault at all, but I know if I were in his position and that happened, I would blame myself too. And no amount of rationalizing from someone else would convince me otherwise.

  He puts his hand on my arm where my arms are crossed over.

  Placing my other hand over the top of his, I give it a squeeze.

  “So yeah. Nothing is as clear cut as it seems. I should have told you before we started fooling around, I know, but I just got caught up in the moment,” he adds.

  “Even if you’d told me, it wouldn’t have stopped me from kissing you back,” I say.

  He nods and smiles but it’s a sad smile.

  It makes me feel sad for him. I can’t stand to see that look on his face, and I decide to try to make him laugh. It won’t make this decision any easier, but it might at least cheer him up in the moment. “On the other hand, if you’d warned me you had active patrols in place that might have stopped me.” I smile.