He doesn’t say anything, but leans forward with his right hand, places it on top of mine on my pussy, collecting some of my juices. He brings the hand to his mouth, licks it, kisses me, and puts his two fingers in my mouth. I greedily suck, tasting myself, wanting, needing to feel him in any way he’ll let me.
As I push deeper inside myself, I use my other arm against the window to still my balance. “Fuck Brett. So hot. So goddamn gorgeous in every way. I bet you’d love to feel this hard cock inside you, wouldn’t you?”
“It’s so perfect,” I moan. “Your cock, I mean.”
“I love when your voice is hoarse like that,” he growls. “And yes. The cock gods have blessed me.”
I want to laugh, but looking at him in the reflection, lightning flashing illuminating his handsome face, glancing back to his engorged cock --it’s the hottest damn thing I’ve seen in my life.
I can’t believe I’m about to come.
He slides back so he stands behind me, so close I can feel the warmth of his flesh almost touching my ass.
“That’s right Brett. Good girl.” He says as he is vigorously pumping his shaft, watching me pleasure myself.
My body shakes, my knees quiver, and pleasure overtakes my entire body, bolts of warmth shooting to my limbs, filling my chest, and especially settling between my legs as I imagine him penetrating me.
“Oh fuck it’s hot when you moan like that. Oh fuck, your ass is perfect. I’m so close, Brett. I haven’t even touched you and you’ve got me so close.”
“Come wherever you want,” I blurt out.
He lets out a throaty noise halfway between a grunt and a shout. Placing the palm of his free hand firmly on the small of my back, he yanks up my shirt, exposing more flesh. Using the same hand, he tangles his left hand into my hair and pulls, forcing me to arch my back and press my ass against him.
Moments later I feel his cock touch my skin ever so slightly, and his warm cum spurts across my ass and lower back in thick rivulets, trickling down.
We both pant for a moment after, until he finally breaks the ice.
“Don’t move,” he says.
In the reflection of the glass, I see him move swiftly toward his desk and grab something.
“Workout towel,” he explains as he helps wipe my back and ass clean. He wipes himself too.
“Aww you’re not even going to leave me any?” I joke. “I hear it’s good for the skin. Got vitamin E or something.”
He laughs, a strong belly laugh, different than I’ve ever heard him.
“I needed that.”
“The orgasm or the laugh?” I ask, turning around.
He shrugs and pulls me in for a kiss, palming my asscheek as he does. “Both.” He leans in and kisses a spot just below my ear. “And you know what I need right now, since we aren’t going anywhere?”
He nods outside, where the storm is still revving at full blast. Thunder rumbles through the muggy fall night.
“What do you need?” I ask, the possibilities seemingly endless.
“Another drink with you.”
Thirteen - Sebastian
“You take anything with your whisky?”
“You have ginger?”
I smirk at her. “You would be a ginger girl.”
I put some ice and whisky into both of our glasses,and some ginger ale into hers.
I hand Brett her drink, and we clink glasses as the rain hammers down outside.
“One of the worst storms I can remember in Blackwell,” she says as she stares outside into the pitch black. I gaze outside, and I’m happy to take my mind off the fact that I just broke my cardinal, number one rule on which I built my business:
Never hook up with an employee.
“It’s bad out there,” I agree, letting my mind focus on the storm.
“I wonder if there’s a tornado watch.” Brett’s eyes glisten in the dimmed light.
“Do you think I’d let us be on one of the top floors of Blackwell’s tallest building if there was a tornado watch?”
I swagger toward my couch, because that’s just how I feel after hooking up with the hottest, most precious girl I’ve ever seen.
Who would have suspected the most innocent looking one is the one with the dirtiest mind of all.
I bade her to come sit next to me on the leather couch, patting the spot next to me. “Come. Sit.”
“I’ve already done the first, so I accept your proposal,” she says, somehow, with a straight face.
I throw my head back in laughter.
She sits next to me, and I run my eyes up and down her again.
“I feel a little ridiculous in no pants and a blouse,” she says as she sits.
“Well you don’t look ridiculous. You look fucking sexy.”
“Really?”
She seems surprised, which shocks me.
“Hell yeah. Is the Pope Catholic? I’ll answer that one for you. Yes, and you’re sexy as fuck. Better get used to me saying that.”
She chuckles, and runs her hand up my arm. Her touch gets my blood rushing.
I don’t want this night to end. For most of the past year, life’s been a slog of deals and plans and business wins and losses. Sure, I’ve had a few ladies thrown into the mix at times, but none like Brett.
I’ve never even had a shot at a wholesome-but-hot, sweet-but-naughty soul like Miss Brett Blue.
“Do you believe in fate, Brett?”
She leans her body into mine, and I wrap my arm around her.
Her face nuzzles into my shoulder, and she brings her eyes up. “Wow. You don’t waste any time going deep, do you?”
I spin my glass of whisky and stroke her hair with my free arm. “I’m just curious about you. Us being reunited like this feels too big to be a coincidence. But I don’t particularly believe in fate.”
“So what do you believe?”
“I asked you first.”
She takes a deep breath. “Fate and I are kind of at odds right now. My father died this year, and I’m trying to come to terms with why He would take my father away. It was too early. He was barely fifty.”
She rubs her arm, and seems to tighten at the mention of her father. I hold her tighter, pulling her into me.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Brett.” I kiss her on the forehead.
“It’s okay,” she frowns. “I’m still processing it, though. I want to do right by him. It’s why I didn’t sell you the property.”
“Because it reminds you of him?”
“He loved that damn house so much. His Dad--my grandfather--built it himself. I just can’t part with it. Maybe some day. But not yet.”
She smiles a little, and rests her chin on my shoulder, sitting up. “My father always told me to go after my dream. He worked hard so I could go to college, but I never got to finish.”
She exhales deeply, blowing the air out of her lips like she’s blowing out stress. Her eyes glassy, she looks off into the distance. For a moment, she closes her eyes and I swear I can feel her holding back tears.
“That’s tough. Was going to college your dream?”
“It was for a while. But it was also my dream not to be in debt. So part of me gave up a little bit on that dream. And now--”
“You’re just trying to live out your dream through writing a romance novel.” I say, giving her the best shit eating grin I can muster, trying to cheer her up a little.
“Stop it. You mean working for you, who for some reason thought I would be a good employee even though I have zero qualifications.”
My arms still wrapped around her, I draw her into me on the couch. I love the feel of her flesh on mine. “You stop it. You have plenty of qualifications. You haven’t even been on the job for a month and you’re crushing it. Hell,” I chuckle. “You’re writing a damn romance novel on company time, and you’re still more efficient than half my staff. And I’ve read it, Brett. It’s fucking good.”
She arches an eyebrow my way, her face so close I can feel her
breath. “You’re just saying that.”
I shrug. “I’ll admit I’ve never read a romance novel before. But I think it’s fucking gold. It’s got potential.”
“I just wonder how it’ll turn out in the end,” she breathes, her mouth inches from mine.
I can’t resist giving her a long, slow kiss. I nibble on her lower lip as I let go.
“You’re the author. Don’t you get to decide how it ends?”
The thunder booms loudly right outside, and she flinches, but I steady her.
“I have to let the characters tell me what they want to do,” she smiles, and then sits back on the couch, grabbing her drink. “So this fantasy thing we’re doing. We’re going to play one for me, and then one for you? Like I’ll be Lacy, and you’ll be Zane.”
“I can be Zane. I always wished my name began with a ‘Z’ anyway.”
“Alright. And you’ll write something, then I’ll write something. So we’ll kind of cowrite the book.”
I smile. “Of all the jobs I’ve had, I never thought I’d be cowriting a romance novel. I don’t want any of the credit though, obviously. Just call me your secret ghostwriter. Deal?”
“Deal.”
We shake on it.
This is going to be so much more than I bargained for when I hired her.
Fourteen - Brett
Brett: You’re up early
Mr. X: Same to you. 4 hours of sleep was enough?
Brett: The sleep I got on the couch was plenty. I had a very restful pillow
Mr. X: And I had a nice snuggle partner
Brett: Say snuggle partner again. That word is so funny
Mr. X: I’ll give you something to snuggle with
Brett: Okay now that word is so dirty. You’ve ruined snuggle for me.
Mr. X: I read what you wrote this morning. Looks like the creative juices are really flowing today
Brett: The earlier in the morning the dirtier I am
Mr. X: I’m still trying to process out how a girl as innocent looking as you comes up with these dirty thoughts
Brett: Never judge a book by its cover
Mr. X: Never again
Brett: So are you going to make this one happen? It’s a challenging one
Mr. X: Do you doubt my superpowers? I only hope you’ll be able to keep a straight face while you’re doing it
Brett: So you’re orally skilled is what you’re saying
Mr. X: I’ll let you be the judge of that. I can’t wait to taste you.
Brett: You got a taste last night
Mr. X: I need more
Early in the morning, Bob approaches my desk, and I quickly close the box with my conversation with Mr. X before my screen comes into view.
“Good Morning,” I say in a cheery voice.
“Sounds like someone woke up on the right side of the bed today,” he says quizzically.
I don’t really want to tell Bob where I woke up--on Sebastian’s office couch at two a.m. before we both groggily made it home.
I’m tired today, but it was certainly worth it for last night.
I shrug. “I sleep well when it rains. I’ve always liked the rain.”
“Uh, okay. That’s odd. Anyways, I got the email from the higher ups about your special role in the task force. I just wanted to say, anything you need, let me know what it is. I understand you’ll be ducking out from time to time, and that’s fine. What the bossman needs, he gets,” he says. “And it sounds like he needs your help on this. I’m just surprised how quickly this all happened.”
“Me too.”
Bob passes by my desk and greets a few other employees, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
As I sip my morning coffee and peruse my morning emails, I respond to a few. I’ve been pulled off of the real estate sales team, and made a member of the design team, I’m CC’d on multiple emails coming through from my teammates.
Sebastian swears he can make any fantasy I want come true. Thanks to my creative mind, I’m not going to make this first one easy on him. I still wonder what he thought when he saw what I wrote this morning.
He’s got to go down on me somewhere I’d never suspect it.
At eleven a.m., I report to the web-conferencing room where we’re having the kick-off call with the design team. We’re talking about getting the agreement finalized so the design team can work up their initial draft of the new ranch.
I’m surprised when I roll into an almost empty room, save for Troy. He’s got his sleeves rolled up and his tie half undone.
“What’s up killer,” he winks when I walk in.
“Where is everyone else?” I ask as I grab a seat.
He shrugs. “Some calls don’t involve everyone, I guess.” He connects a laptop to the hub in the middle of the big table. The big video screen directly in front of us populates, and a few moments later the image of a man and a woman appear.
“Hi!” they wave, and the woman speaks. “I’m Marsha and this is Frank,” she nods. “We’re your design team.”
“Nice to meet you two,” Troy says. “I’m Troy and this is my colleague Brett.”
“Brett? Did I hear that right?”
The resolution is pretty good on the screen, and in the top right corner we can see a little icon of ourselves in the video screen.
“Yes, that’s right. My name’s Brett and I’m a girl. Let’s get that out of the way first and foremost.”
“Well alright then. Shall we get started?” Frank says.
We nod and I open my laptop to take notes. We talk about the details of the ranch project. The designers are out of Austin, Texas, and although they are experienced in their profession, a ranch of this magnitude is not often designed, so the information I supply has more to do with the climate of Blackwell than anything else. When it rains, how cold it gets in the winter, things like that.
Fifteen minutes into the meeting, Fiona, the secretary, pops into the room.
“Oh excuse me. Sorry to interrupt. But Troy, you’re needed in accounting. Big glitch. If you would.”
She holds the door open.
“Think you can hold the fort down?” he says with a smug smile, nodding toward me.
“I can manage, thank you.”
“Good. That’s what I like to hear,” he winks, pointing the laptop camera my way so I see myself in the upper right hand corner. I lean forward on the table, the only thing visible is my upper body. Today I’ve worn a sleeveless dress, which showcases my arms that I’ve been oh-so-vigilant about working out in the gym.
I take a deep breath as Frank keeps talking about their process, and a feeling of accomplishment washes over me. I love this company, and I love the value I’m able to bring to it. In my early years of college--I never felt like I had a skill set that really served a purpose.
Sebastian Blackwell plucked me from the edge of oblivion, and thrusted me into a role where I contribute in a way that’s perfect for my skill set.
I wonder if all that stuff he said last night was bullshit, or if I really make him believe there could be a God?
That comment went over my head at the time, but it’s got to be the highest compliment anyone’s ever given me in my entire life.
I smile softly, and Marsha’s businesslike mood softens. I guess moods can be transferred digitally too.
“So then, the last thing we need to do is go through some of the design modules.”
“Sounds good,” I say, staring at the screen.
That’s when Mr. X’s name pops up on my laptop on the work messenger app.
Mr. X: Don’t move, don’t flinch, don’t react
I furrow my brow. He shouldn’t be contacting me during a meeting. Still, I answer back.
Brett: Excuse me?
Mr. X: it’ll make sense in a minute
Brett: :thinking face:
Mr. X: I’m basically your genie. Your wish is my command. Loved what you wrote this morning. You’re incredible
I furrow my brow at the screen on my lapto
p, then look back to the big flatscreen where Marsha and Frank are presenting.
“Is something...confusing?” Frank asks.
“No, no. Keep going,” I say, motioning with my hands for him to continue.
The door opens, and Sebastian enters, his dark brown eyes completely focused on mine as he steps in carefully, on the carpet. He notes the location of the flat panel TV, and strategically steps just to the side of the camera attached to the top.
Touching his finger to his lips, he motions for me to keep quiet.
I do my best to pretend not to notice him.
But even out of the corner of my eye, I can tell he’s got a mischievous freaking look in his eye. He pulls out his phone presses a button, and a song starts playing from his stereo.
My eyes go wide, and Frank’s expression changes.
“Uh, is that “Motivation” by Kelly Rowland and Lil Wayne?”
“Yeah,” I shrug, as if it’s no big deal. “Our boss is trying a new productivity experiment. A study came out that employees are more productive while listening to music.”
“Oh. Uh, okay. Anyways. This is a new and innovative design--it’s never been done just like this to be honest. But I assure you the principles of design behind it are sound. Bear with me, since we still only have the designs on the physical board, I’ll have to show you on the camera. It’s a little old school, but it’s the best way to show you.”
Frank keeps talking, and I can barely keep a straight face.
Because my boss is standing just to the right of the Flatscreen, just barely out of view of the camera, doing a striptease.
To the beat of the music, he unbuttons one hole at a time while making dead on sex eyes at me. My heart pounds and my skin tingles, blood rushing between my legs.
Once his shirt is off, he does a belly roll, giving me the opportunity to see every single ripple of muscle in his abs.
I think back to the fantasy I wrote him this morning, and a rush of dopamine surges through as the realization hits me.
He’s actually going to do what he said.
Boss with Benefits Page 10