by Ada Frost
“Straighten your arm. Stop letting it slip,” Sam shouted. Lawson corrected his swing and punched the bag a few more times before stopping and turning to face us. He wore a smug grin until his eyes collided with mine, and that grin faded. I wished I could have shown disinterest, but I was busy collecting my tongue from the floor. It wasn’t right such an arsehole could look so freaking sexy. Plus, he was covered in sweat. Strangely that added to his appeal right now, but it shouldn’t have.
“You keep dropping your left shoulder, and your arm isn’t straight. And you’re twisting again.”
“Why is she here?” Lawson hissed, taking a drink of water from a bottle. I should have been annoyed at his abhorrent tone, but the sight of his throat working, and those tight muscled biceps had an entirely different effect on me. I turned away from him and stared out at the scary machinery. It was a torture chamber of fitness. My muscles went into hiding just at the sight of it.
“I’ll shower, and then I can give you your schedule for the day,” Lawson said as he passed me.
“Okay.”
“Do you think you will be capable of sticking to it?”
As brilliantly as the stick stays up your arse, I’m sure. I plastered a sugary sweet smile on my face.
“Yes, sir.”
Lawson blinked a few times, his jaw tensing and twisting his features. We stared at one another adding an undercurrent of contention of who would look away first. I might be his employee, but I refused to be intimidated by him. Or attracted, I definitely refused that notion.
“Okay, kids, that’s enough of that staring competition. Abby, let’s get you set up upstairs. Lawson, man, punch the bag a few more times. You seem a little tense.” Sam held out his arm and motioned for me to proceed him out of the gym.
As we approached the offices, I caught sight of Lacey and called out to her. She turned and offered me a small smile before quickly entering a changing room.
A while later, I was seated behind my desk. Scarlet was as much help as a chocolate fireguard and she clearly wasn’t in the mood to help me figure things out. Luckily the computer software was something I had used before, so that was okay. The filing system was easy and super organised, and now I was going down the list of instructions from Lawson. It didn’t escape my notice either that he hadn’t written the list in priority order. I refused to believe that refilling the copier was more important than rescheduling a meeting. He was testing my ability.
I’d already located the contact list, rearranged a meeting for him, and printed the important mail that needed sending today by the time he returned from the gym, still in his workout gear. He placed his briefcase on his desk before coming into my office.
“Two meetings need rescheduling ASAP,” he instructed, a light of glee in his gaze.
“Already taken care of. I’ve updated your diary.”
His jaw twitched. Score one to me.
“Also the accounts need —”
“I’ve emailed them and also prepared physical copies to be sent out with the mail,” I said.
He paused a moment, glaring at me. I wanted to add that if those were the most important issues of the day, he would have been better adding them to the top of his list, not the bottom. But I refused to give him the satisfaction of a scathing retort.
“Very good.”
“One more thing,” I asked as he started to walk away. “There is a delivery due today, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Sam didn’t have time to show me where things are stored. Clearly it isn’t stored in here.” I motioned to the sparse room. I had a large filing cabinet and a desk, which was all that graced the room.
He frowned. “When the delivery arrives, I will give you instructions on how to catalogue.”
“I know how to catalogue. I don’t know where to put it,” I replied through clenched teeth.
“Follow me,” he ordered. I scrambled to my feet and raced after him. “May I ask, Miss Warner, how is it possible you had no idea your cousin was an adult film actress?”
“Well, it’s hardly the first thing you assume about someone. I thought she was a spy?”
“A spy?” he asked with a hint of amusement.
“Yup. Seemed logical to me.”
“How so?”
“All the secrecy.”
Lawson paused, turning to fix me with a befuddled stare.
“What? How the hell would I suspect during the day she shags for England, but by night she curls up in bed in flannel pyjamas with a boy wizard?”
“Excuse me?”
“Harry Potter. She’s a huge fan. It’s a book —”
“I’m well aware of what it is, Miss Warner.” He bristled.
“So you see, porn wasn’t my first assumption.”
He turned down a corridor and paused in front of a closed door. His shoulders raised when he inhaled a deep breath. “May I use your keycard? It appears mine is in my office.”
That little oversight on his part had me smiling. I handed over my card, refusing to hide my smirk. He swiped the card through the locking mechanism, and the door clicked. He pushed it open and motioned for me to walk in ahead of him. Lights automatically came on illuminating the room. The gasp that escaped me was both involuntary and rather loud in the silent room.
“Every item must be accounted for when it is brought into the room and also when it is taken out and placed in the studios. Only you, Samuel and I have access to this room, so it is imperative you check filming schedules for what is needed.” he insisted, his deep baritone echoing around the walls.
“It’s like pick’n’mix for sex toys.” I chuckled. I stepped farther into the room, glancing at all the brightly coloured dildos and vibrators. “What is that? It looks like a pink rubber glove on a stand.”
“It’s a clitoral stimulator,” Lawson deadpanned. Like talking about this stuff was normal. Well, to him I guess it was. “It’s designed to stimulate the entire outer clitoral area instead of just a small portion of it.”
“Wow, can’t beat having your clit stimulated.” I grinned.
“Precisely.” His voice was gravely. “The anal toys are over there, men’s toys on this side, and the—“
“What the hell is a pussy pump?” I reached out and pulling the box from the shelf. I read the instructions on the back in freaking awe. I had never in my life heard of such a thing.
“It heightens sensitivity,” he rasped from behind me, a little too closely because I could smell his musky scent. Sweat and aftershave combined. It shouldn’t at all be arousing, but the infuriating man had parts of my body tingling he had no right to.
“Hmm.” I placed the box back on the shelf.
“Holy cow,” I blurted when I came to the condoms and lubes. There must have been dozens of different sizes, flavours, and feels.
“Only ever order Durex, we have a sponsorship with them,” he instructed.
“Okay. Seriously, extra small? No man would ever own up to that.” I laughed, grabbing a box from the shelf and holding them up to him. His cheeks heated, but a tiny, almost invisible, smile formed on his lips.
“They send them as a courtesy. More often than not they are donated.”
“You...wait hold up. You donate condoms?”
“We donate them to sexual health training centres or campaigns. You will soon learn, Miss Warner, that we use a vast amount of condoms, just not the small variety. Nobody wants a small cock.”
“Next you’ll be telling me you donate sperm. I guess there’s bucket loads lying around the place.”
At his disgusted scowl I snickered like an immature kid. Wanting something other than condoms to stare at, I turned toward the shelving he said housed the male toys.
“Well, I guess that will come in handy if you require the extra small.” I sarcastically pointed out, motioning to the penis enlarger. And to my utter shock Lawson sniggered behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, giving him a saucy wiggle of my eyebrows, causing him to laugh a little mo
re freely.
“Some don’t like to use a fluffer or Viagra. They like the suction sensation.”
“Okay, what the hell is a fluffer?”
“He or she is employed to help the male performers get an erection pre-filming.”
“How do you even write that on your resume? What would you list under duties?”
“I suppose you could write that you excel in oral stimulation.”
I couldn’t help the laughter that burst forth at his clinical explanation. How he even voiced that without laughing I had no idea. The corners of his mouth twitched as I covered my mouth trying to stop the giggles.
“Fluffer, got it. Okay...what the heck?” I reached out to grab another box, but Lawson stepped behind me, reaching out to pull the item from the shelf.
“It’s a cock cage,” he uttered, a little too closely.
“What?”
“It fits snugly around the dick, and when you fuck, the clit stimulator offers a rather pleasing sensation to your partner.” His husky voice sent a shiver down my spine. “You will see most of these toys in operation during your time here. Largely they are used during particular sets. Certain performers have favourite stimulators. The majority of toy play happens during bondage sessions or girl/girl scenes. There has been an increased demand for solo male masturbation with fleshlights and gay scenes.”
I knew to him this was a day to day business, but his proximity, the nature of his words, and the imagery in my mind of him taking himself in hand was causing a desperate throb between my thighs. I had to be coming down with an illness. There was no other explanation for me to be attracted to this guy.
“I couldn’t imagine fucking someone while they were wearing that.” What the hell Abby? The last thing I needed to be discussing with my boss was my personal sexual exploits.
“Sometimes our imagination inhibits our freedom. To believe in the impossible is the key to enlightenment.”
I blinked at him, his words taking me aback. I didn’t want to think of this man in any other capacity than my stuck up asshole of a boss. But a few moments in a sex toy cupboard, and I was feeling a tumult of emotions.
“Very deep, Mr Stone.” I nodded down at the toy in his hand. “A philosopher’s cock cage – there’s a parody in the making.” I forced a ridiculously fake laugh and pushed my way by him to exit the room. I sucked in a deep breath, needing the tiny moment of reprieve.
We returned to the office, and he retreated to his bathroom to shower and change back into his suit.
The remainder of the day was a mixture of introductions to staff, performers, and film crew. Lawson was pretty distant. He was polite but aloof. It was obvious he didn’t want me here, but he was resigned to it. I completed the tasks he forwarded me and made the arrangements required. The delivery for the toy cupboard was delayed due to a stock issue and wasn’t due to arrive for another few days, much to the disagreement of Lawson. I assured him the vendors promised it would be here in two days, maximum.
I had lunch with Lacey, who I’d chastised for not coming to see me last night after my interview. She knew I didn’t have a home or mobile phone to contact her. She apologised for not telling me about her line of work, and we promised no more secrets. But something was off. I had the distinct feeling she was hiding something. I put it down to paranoia, but my gut wouldn’t let me forget it.
Also, I watched for the first time in my life, a porn film being made. They aren’t as sexy during the creation process as I thought they would be.
When I returned to my house that night to my cold empty home. I’d had a warm dinner curtsey of Stone Industries at work. I climbed straight into bed. Both for warmth and to end this day as soon as possible.
Who would have thought the phlegmatic office would be more agreeable than the loneliness of my home? Winter was a depressing time of year, but to be alone in a cold empty house was even worse.
“Night, Mum,” I whispered to the darkness before sleep claimed me.
It was going to be a shit day.
I knew that the moment I woke up. My head was pounding from the loud industrial noises of fucking roadworks outside my house at 7am, I’d failed to notice the milk was sour before I put it in my morning coffee, I’d dribbled toothpaste on my fucking shirt so I had to change. Not to mention someone had scratched my sodding Range Rover. When I finally arrived at the office I had the making of a tension headache. I was in the worst mood ever. Plus I had a list of calls to return as long as my arm.
To add to all that shit, Steve was stopping by for an official visit. On a regular day, seeing my dad was hard to swallow. My head would explode if I caught him fucking Scarlet again in the changing rooms. One did not need to see his dad’s bare wrinkly arse banging away at his young wife. Additional to that, there was Miss Warner. She was occupying far too much of my attention, and she had only been here a few days. Even Marie had mentioned over dinner last night that I was distracted. Which proved what a dick I was being, when I couldn’t give the only stable parental figure I’d known my full attention. Begrudgingly, I’d had to admit that so far she had been exceptionally proficient. That didn’t excuse her sassy nature. My attitude toward her bordered on rude, I knew that, and I had tried to tone it down but my reaction to her gorgeous arse and ample tits brought out a monster in me. She brought out the bastard in me simply for being her.
I entered my office and a sound caused me to pause.
“It gets worse,” I muttered to myself. Someone was using my private bathroom to shower.
“I swear, someone is losing their job today.” I slammed my briefcase down on my desk a little harder than I intended, but fuck, it felt good. My head pounded, the pain making my eye twitch. I gripped the doorknob, twisted, and pushed.
“Motherfucker,” I choked out in a strangled whisper.
I stood stock still and watched. There was little else any man would do in this situation. Not with all those lush curves and soapy wet skin on display. I must thank my interior designer for insisting on a wet room design.
Miss Warner was a vision in clothes. Out of them, she was every man’s fantasy. I couldn’t deny I hadn’t imagined this while I’d fisted my cock to rid myself of the unsettling anger I’d felt toward her. Nothing compared to the real thing though.
I liked women. I loved their bodies. Especially curvy arses and toned legs. Both of which Miss Warner had in abundance. Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned back against the door watching her. This was my space, and I refused to leave. She knew the rules. If she couldn’t respect them – neither could I.
My cock definitely didn’t obey the rule of no fraternisation, because the thing was as hard as hell for her, desperate to press her against the cool tiles, spread her legs wide, and fuck her until she sucked my cock dry.
She tilted her head back, letting the spray hit her face. Her eyes were closed and her hands cupped just under her chin catching the water. She looked like she was in heaven, just standing under the warmth. She slid her hands over her hair, turning as she did. My breath caught when I got a full frontal.
“I’m dead,” I muttered to myself. Her arse had nothing on her perfect tits. “Fuck.”
I saw naked women on a daily basis, admittedly it was work, but each one was flawless, perfect, and beautiful. None of them compared to Miss Warner. She wasn’t toned to within an inch of her life, her tits were real, she had curves in all the right places. Her body was pure feminine perfection. She had hips a man could grip while he pounded into her from behind and tits that would fill his hands. Miss Warner ran her fingers over her hair one more time before wiping them down her face, and that’s when those green eyes collided with mine, and my heart stuttered. Long wet lashes fanned against her cheeks as she blinked, taking me in.
I refused to be ashamed at being caught in here.
“Mr. Stone,” she gasped, before trying to cover herself with her hands. I simply stared. I watched her. Who wouldn’t?
“What are you...get out!” she
all but screeched.
“No,” I refuted.
She spluttered out garbled nonsense, a lot aimed at maiming me, as she moved her hands over her pussy and breasts, doing a shit job of covering anything. With a bored expression—I hoped that was what she saw—I grabbed one of my towels and stood away from the shower so she would have to come to me to get it.
I was so hard, the tension from my headache had gone south. She came out of the shower and grabbed the towel, glaring at me.
“You can leave,” she snarled, wrapping the white cotton around her.
Stepping toward her, I towered above her and leaned in. “May I remind you...wait, did you use my toiletries?” I inhaled the scent of my usual shower gel and shampoo.
“I’ll replace them.”
A noise, close to a growl, rumbled from my throat.
“You can’t...” I sucked in a breath, trying to compose myself before I did something we would both regret. Like grab her and kiss her before bending her over the vanity and fucking the shit out of her. “You are in my bathroom, using my soap, and wrapped in my towel.”
“Your point?”
Oh, that sassy mouth.
“My point, Miss Warner.” I pressed into her space, forcing her to step back against the vanity. My dick nudged her naked stomach. I could feel the moisture from her shower soaking through my trousers. I saw the moment she realised I was as hard as fuck for her. “You are covered in my scent. You are wrapped in my towel. Do you like that thought? Do you want my scent to be all over you?”
Her chest brushed against mine with each breath. The throbbing of the pulse at the base of her neck was so enticing I wanted to lick the droplets from her creamy skin. I dipped my head so my mouth brushed her ear.
“I watched you. I watched you rub my scent over your tits. I watched while you slid your fingers between your thighs. Do you know how hard I am for you right now?” She shivered against me. Her hair dripped over my shirt. She shifted, parting those lush thighs so my cock nestled perfectly against her.