by Vremont, Ann
"National may pick it up." He dropped his gaze to a manila folder on his desk, his thumb flicking at one corner. "I didn't want anyone at the meeting getting jealous, but I think this will be a perfect follow-up if you can snag an interview with the club owner."
He handed me the folder, his gaze off to the right of my shoulder. I flattened my mouth before I could smirk. Unbeknownst to me before my session with Craig at the parlor, my blue blouse had super powers. Men -- at least some of them -- couldn't look at me when I wore it.
Although Dalton succumbing to its power kind of creeped me out.
Flipping the folder open, I read a copy of a build permit request. I shuffled that page to the back of the stack and looked at the LLC Articles of Organization for the company making the request.
"So," I coughed. "Someone wants to build a bigger bondage club on the South Bay Shoreline?"
"Yeah. You know anything about that?"
The way his voice caught at the end of the question, I didn't think he was asking me about South Bay. I flicked my gaze from the papers to Dalton's face. He had turned a brighter pink, a thin film of perspiration building on his top lip.
I resisted the urge to look down at his lap knowing no amount of brain bleach would cleanse me if I spotted an erection. Swallowing down my need to puke, I shook my head. "No. Are we talking another potential feature article?"
"Exactly." Smiling, he leaned closer, his elbows on his knees, his fingers jumping like a spastic spider a few inches from the hem of my skirt. "Strike while the iron is hot -- if you can get the owner to grant an interview."
"Cool." I scanned the LLC paperwork for the resident agent's name while I tried not to shrink from the dancing spiders. "I'll get started right away."
Dalton smiled then his attention jerked left and his lips rolled inward. "Hey, Craig, I was just telling Val about national picking up her feature."
"Not final."
From the corner of my eye, I watched Craig stop a foot from me, his attention on Dalton. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, Craig poked his chin in my direction. "Done, right?"
"Uhm, sure." Dalton rolled his chair away so I had room to stand.
Turning on one heel, Craig called over his shoulder. "My office, cub."
Biting my tongue, I followed after my one-time lover, silently debating whether I should thank him for getting me out of Dalton's cube or slap him upside the head for calling me cub.
"Shut the door."
The rasp in his command sent a thrill racing across my skin. My nipples tightened in immediate response and I sank, subdued, into the nearest chair after I complied.
"I'm not going to look at you, Valerie." Craig rested his hands on his desk, the fingers steepled. "I have a meeting with our most important advertisers in fifteen minutes and no one would appreciate my showing up with a hard on."
"Okay," I whispered, my voice weighted with a soft grin. Forgetting I was in my boss's office, I licked at my lips and squirmed against the chair's bottom cushion. "So why did you want to see me?"
"Just to see you, beautiful." Breaking his self-imposed restriction, Craig looked at me and groaned . Closing his eyes, he interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them. "And to report national has confirmed they are running your feature."
"Oh." I smiled, not about the confirmation but the realization that Craig had dismissed Dalton's statement because he wanted to tell me himself. Dropping my voice a little lower, I slid to the edge of my seat. "Thank you for letting me know and for making it possible."
"About that." His eyes drifted open, heat simmering in their green depths. "Tonight--"
Halting, he glared past my shoulder. I followed the direction of his gaze.
Smiling, Dalton rapped on the door at the same time he opened it. With just his head and one shoulder inside the room, he grinned at me while he ignored Craig. "Trish confirmed national."
I nodded. "Can't wait until its up live. I'm sure I'll spend the night hitting refresh."
Craig cleared his throat and another thrill ran through me. Did that small click and swallow indicate he had something else in mind for the night?
"After happy hour at Chief's," Dalton corrected. "You have to help me rally the troops."
"I…" Fumbling, I looked toward Craig as he seemed to forcefully smother the impulse to stand up and rip Dalton's head from his shoulders. "Chief's isn't--"
"Tell her, boss." Dalton pushed the rest of the way into Craig's office. "It's absolutely mandatory when national pops someone's cherry."
"You'll have HR breathing down my neck if you keep saying that," Craig growled. Flicking his hand at Dalton, he looked at me. "He's right, cub. You have to buy a round. Can't do that if you're not there."
"Oh, okay." I chewed at my bottom lip, disappointed that Dalton had just thrown a bucket of ice water on any chance I had of spending the evening with Craig. Assuming Craig had been ready to ask me out before Dalton interrupted. That assumption was almost as big as my butt.
"Cheer up, cub. I'm a cheap drink." Craig's gaze met mine for a second, his meaning sinking in before his professional mask slid back into place. "Now you both need to leave."
"Sure," Dalton answered, his hand dropping to pinch my sleeve and give a little tug.
As much as I felt like it, I managed to exit Craig's office and return to my computer without skipping. It helped that Dalton followed directly behind me, bypassing his desk to escort me to mine. He spent another two minutes discussing my new assignment before Craig barked across the news floor for Dalton to attend the ad meeting.
"Damn," Dalton grinned, throwing me a wink. "Guess Craig finally realized I'm ready to move up."
Thinking Craig might just have a completely different motivation, I smiled and gave Dalton a thumbs up. "It was only a matter of time."
I watched both men enter the elevator. Without realizing what the other was doing, each turned his gaze in my direction. Craig doing so sent another warm flush across my skin. Then I noticed Dalton's eyes on me and felt like someone had just shoved a cold hand up my skirt.
I smiled at them, promising myself that I would not let Dalton keep me at Chief's too long. One round and I would be out of there.
And straight into Craig's bed if I had my way.
********************
My back to the wall at Chief's as Dalton smiled across the table at me, I checked my cell phone for the fourth time since I arrived a quarter hour before. I had left work after a text from Craig telling me it was time to leave. My hope that he would already be at the bar or arrive shortly thereafter quickly fizzled.
"You make any progress on South Bay?" Reaching out, Dalton tapped a finger against my wrist.
Nodding, I took a drink of my Club Soda and pried my attention from the front door. "Meeting tomorrow at two."
"I knew you would finesse a meeting." Dalton clinked his beer bottle against my soda.
"What meeting?" Managing to sneak up behind me, Craig slid into the seat on my left.
A waitress appeared immediately, her breasts all but spilling out of her top as she offered to serve him. I forced a smile in Dalton's direction as Craig purred his drink order down the woman's blouse.
"Put that on cub's tab," he finished, slapping the woman's ass before directing his attention back to the table. "What meeting?"
Dalton's mouth moved but no words came out.
"Another sex article." Taking a fresh sip from my bottle, I glared at Craig from the side of one eye. "Seems I'm good at it."
"I certainly found your effort satisfactory." Craig turned back to the waitress as she brought his drink, his hand lingering over hers.
I wanted to remind him of his exact words -- the best he ever had -- but his ogling of the waitress told me Craig's compliment had been nothing more than pillow talk.
I thumbed the lip of my bottle. "Didn't you promise to stop calling me cub?"
His mouth hovered at the rim of his glass, the bar's light shimmering in his pupils. "You
get that in writing, cub?"
He took a sip of his drink, his leg shifting so that his knee rubbed against me. Beneath the table, he hooked my foot and tugged it to him before reiterating his question. "Well, did you?"
A pout pushing my lips forward, I looked at Dalton. "Time for me to bail, I promised to babysit for a friend and I need to find a cab to take me to Dolores."
"Dolores, huh? That's my neighborhood." Craig put his drink on the table and pushed it toward Gary on my right. "Finish this. I'll drive cub to her next adventure in babysitting."
Fashioning the lie at my desk in the newsroom, I had been hoping for that exact response. After watching Craig all but dip his head into the waitress's cleavage, I wasn't so sure. He didn't give me the chance to demur. He shot up from his chair, taking my arm with him.
Fond of my arm, I followed.
Craig had somehow snagged a parking spot in front of Chief's and he quickly folded me into the passenger seat then jogged around to the driver's side. He slid into the sedan like butter on hot toast, the car in drive and his seat belt on while I still fumbled with mine.
Finished pulling into traffic, he reached across the center console. Thinking he needed something from the glove box, I angled my legs toward the door.
"No, baby." Hooking the hem of my skirt, he pulled it up over my knees. His hand wrapped around my leg to massage a small square. "Thank you."
I turned to look at Craig, my heart hopping around inside my chest while moisture pooled against the gusset of my panties. "For what?"
"The skirt." He gently scratched at the inside of my knee. "And the excuse to get us out of there."
"What excuse?"
His hand froze and he glanced in my direction. "You're teasing, Valerie. Not nice."
Mulling over my options, I didn't respond. I did have an address he could drop me off, one where the owner would open the door and invite me in.
Stopping at a red light, Craig gave my leg a gentle squeeze and turned to me. "You are teasing, baby."
When I remained silent and unblinking, he ran his hand higher up my thigh. His finger dipped beneath the band of my underwear as a horn honked impatiently behind us. Trailing the tip along the slick seal of my labia, a lazy smile spread across his gorgeous face.
"Baby, you had me going there for a second."
********************
"You're staying the night." Sitting on the couch, half my body sprawled across his lap, Craig nuzzled my neck as he pushed my skirt up my thighs. "Don't expect much sleep."
"I'm good with that." I turned into him, my thighs parting as his fingers traced the edge of my panties.
Making an exploratory push of one finger inside me, he brushed his lips against my ear. "Has Dalton been flirting with you?"
A growl vibrated through his question and I buried my face against the curve of his neck. "You mean like swatting me on the ass or sticking his head halfway down my blouse."
"Don't be petulant, beautiful." Pinching my clit, he drew it taut. "It's expected of me."
I tilted my head back, shaking it as I met his gaze. "No, it's not."
"We're not officially an item, yet." A soft grin spread like molasses across his features. "That's why I gave Dalton assignments for a month, so we can work through this without anyone claiming favoritism or thinking you slept with me to get an assignment."
"Mmm…" I pressed my cheek along his collarbone, hiding my face below the strong line of his chin. He wanted to protect our reputations. More than that, he had suggested we might be an item in the future, giving us a cushion of time.
Weakening at the thought, I snuggled closer. "He was flirting a little, never before today."
"This blouse, baby." He plucked once at the fabric. "The way the georgette clings to these gorgeous breasts…"
Palming one, he started to squeeze and pull as his chin exerted pressure against my forehead and I had to look up. He stared into my eyes, the massage of my breasts becoming more ardent. "It's like you're trying to Jedi mind trick every cock in a five-mile radius."
I blushed, thrilling inside. I tried to shield my gaze from Craig's intensity as he stared into my eyes, but his head followed mine to steal a kiss.
"I'll tell him to back off if he gets too friendly," I promised when the kiss ended.
His gaze narrowed. "If he gets too friendly his ass will be covering traffic in Sacramento."
"Traffic in Sacramento?" Pushing against his chest, I pulled back to look at him, my right brow shooting up. "Alex?"
Craig's turn to blush. "Baby, Morales was sniffing after you for months. Didn't matter if you were too obtuse to notice. Damn near drove me crazy."
I shook my head, my brain refusing to process what Craig was saying. I understood what it sounded like. He had hired me, then tried like hell to ignore me for a year and, eight months in, he had exiled Alex Morales almost one hundred miles away to eliminate a potential rival.
While ignoring me…
I shook my head again.
"Perfectly legal, Valerie." His hand trailed slowly down my torso to cup my mound. "I checked."
He squeezed once, then lightly scratched the skin of my inside thigh until my legs magically spread. Tugging the gusset of my panties to one side, he stroked the hair covering my sex. "I didn't get a long enough taste of this sweet pussy, baby. I've been starving for another all weekend."
I blinked, my lips parting. There were things I wanted to taste, too.
"Will you let me take you into the bedroom and lick you until you come?"
I nodded, half of me already floating toward the door.
********************
My pussy deliciously sore and my lips lightly bruised beneath a covering of lipstick, I spent the next morning and most of the afternoon thinking about my night with Craig. My mind was officially blown. The things that man could do with his hands and tongue and that thick, gorgeous cock.
We had a whole month to decide if this would turn into something longer -- if there was more to liking one another than great sex. But first we had to work a year's worth of longing out of our systems. At least I did. I remained incredulous that Craig had wanted me from the get go. And no way in hell did I think I could work up the courage to inquire how long he had been celibate. I didn't want to find out it had been the day before he first fucked me.
With my thoughts slamming back and forth like the ball in a game of table tennis, I sat down to my interview with John Richardson, the owner of Cathedral, a very private club with fees only the affluent or sponsored could afford.
No banners flew outside marking it as a bondage club, but everyone in the area pretty much knew exactly what went on behind the club's doors. Well, perhaps not exactly or everyone. The small groups that occasionally blocked the club's front gate with their bibles held high likely knew nothing beyond the fact that the club's patrons bumped uglies inside. The instruments of pleasure or pain, the butt plugs and floggers and what not, were probably as foreign to those women and their timid husbands as global warming.
"How much research have you done for this article?" Richardson slid into the chair behind his massive, ornate wooden desk. He smoothed his fingers through the mix of black and gray hair before dropping his hand into his lap.
Looking at him, I felt like a mouse trying to stare down a King Cobra. He had the home team advantage and a deep, sexual sophistication I couldn't begin to fathom. Craig was only lover number three. If the rumors about the club were true, that was one night's worth of companions for some of its members.
He may have been a dominant within the club, but he needed to know I was interviewing him. "I don't go by second hand information, Mr. Richardson. So why don't we start with the club's activities."
"That would be second hand information, wouldn't it, Miss Lane?" Relaxing into his leather chair, he smiled like a cat that had just discovered a canary out of its cage. "Of course, while we most likely have members of the media among our patrons, I can't take you on a guided to
ur of the facilities."
His gaze moved over the portion of my body visible from where he sat behind his desk. "So why don't you sketch out your understanding and I can confirm or deny. That will save us both time."
Resisting the impulse to roll my lips as if I had just been busted passing a note in my sixth grade civics class, I smiled at him. "This is a sex club, Mr. Richardson, where consenting adults engage in sexual intercourse without any monetary exchange."
"Sex isn't a given, Miss Lane." He tilted his head, his study of my upper body narrowing down to my breasts.
And I wasn't even wearing my blue blouse!
"The exchange," I continued, "sometimes with sex, sometimes not, can include restraint, sensory stimulation, role-playing, and power play."
Richardson lifted an eyebrow, one that was a little too perfect for its arched lines to be natural. "Sounds like something you read on Wikipedia."
I inhaled, letting the slow intake of air cool my cheeks before the blush had time to fully form. "You wanted a sketch of my knowledge, sir."
I clamped my mouth together, wishing I had used some other word to address him. My mistake didn't go unnoticed. His gaze lifted from my tits to my face, the gleam in his eyes as predatory as his smile.
"You know, if you would like more than words from an online encyclopedia, I could arrange something -- an experience for you." He leaned forward, his elbows on his desk and his fingers steepled, the contemplative position a perfect mirror of Craig in his office after yesterday's editorial meeting. "Think about it. Your lush body on display, a light flogging from our dungeon monitor with an audience of a few members, everyone masked of course. Your skin colors easily, doesn't it."
"Would any of your members be willing to have me interview them?" Out of view, I clenched my thighs to keep from squirming in my seat. There was nothing I could do about the flush heating my cheeks, but I could at least keep my ass from dancing.
Richardson pushed a little closer to his desk. "Before or after your flogging, my dear Miss Lane?"