by Lucia Jordan
“Other than it has been tampered with I’m not sure what else I can say.”
Michael had known that, he just wanted an excuse to keep her there. She sat in the chair, her pale features growing less strained by the second as she began to understand he wasn’t blaming her and he couldn’t help but wonder if her skin was that same lovely porcelain white all over.
Kelly fidgeted slightly. She already had another large project on her board and a nearly desperate desire to escape from his heated gaze. She flushed a little, recalling the last fantasy she had had of him and he saw the heightening of color but had no idea what had put it there so he assumed she was becoming upset at being detained.
“If we’re done here?”
“Oh, yes.” Michael leaned back in his seat, his crystalline eyes giving away nothing. “Please close the door on your way out.”
Relief gusted through her. She sprang to her feet and headed for the door. Watching her go, Michael could only appreciate the uptilted curve of her ass from afar. The door closed behind her and Kelly let out a long breath she had not been aware that she was holding. Sweat popped out on her forehead and she had to stop for a long drink of water at the cooler before going back to her office.
Kelly sat at her desk, trying to focus her mind but she couldn’t. She kept thinking of his long and strong fingers and the way his gaze had held hers. She had always wanted that with Greg but he had rarely looked higher than her breasts, even when they were having a conversation.
She picked up a document and began working, trying to empty her mind of thoughts of Michael. She stopped, her fingers poised in mid-air over her keyboard, wondering just when she had stopped thinking of Greg and started thinking of her boss instead.
Either way, those were thoughts she didn’t need. Men she didn’t need. Giving herself a stern shake she buckled down.
**
Michael walked down the hallway, his footsteps echoing softly. The entire office was deserted except for the light that burned in the window of Kelly’s office. He paused, she had come in even earlier than he had and she was still there, once more he wondered what it was that drove her to succeed.
He knew what drove him. He had grown up dirt poor and hungry. His mom had died when he was a toddler and his dad had been one of those people who drift through life with stars in their eyes and pennies in their pockets.
Growing up Michael had often been shaken awake in the middle of the night with his father’s face leaned over his bed and his voice throbbing with urgency.
Sneaking out of weekly rentals they were months behind on, houses they had squatted in, away from the endless stream of women that his father first charmed and then moved in on and out of more towns than either of them could remember.
By the time Michael was fourteen he had learned to fend for himself through a series of small hustles, but when a young teacher at his high school had noticed Michael’s gift for learning and then explained to Michael what could be gained from an education, Michael had turned all of his schemes into one grand plan: to escape from the life he had born into.
He had most certainly done that. He made a high six figure a year salary, lived in a condo at one of the nicest addresses in the city, drove a Mercedes that was his pride and joy and had nowhere to go but up. He had proven everyone who had thought him his father’s son utterly wrong.
But despite all that, he felt there was something still missing. He understood everything he had gained was transient, that he had lifted himself up but was not yet whole.
Kelly looked up as he knocked at her open door and said. “You can’t be the last one at the office, you’ll make me look bad.”
She glanced over at her watch. To her surprise the hands stood at nine thirty. Where had the time gone? Flustered she stuttered out, “I got caught up in some reports.”
“I do that a lot too. Have you eaten?”
She shook her head. Some of her auburn curls had escaped the twist she had captured them in and hung around her face in flattering little wisps. “No.”
“Me neither. There’s a dynamite little diner on the corner. How about I buy you dinner?’
Tension sizzled between them; they were both aware of it. Kelly knew she should say no, he knew he should retract the invitation but neither of them wanted to take that course of action. “That would be great. I really like their Ruebens and steak fries.”
“A woman who eats.” Michael’s grin was real and it lit up his handsome face in a way that was nearly her undoing. “That’s refreshing.”
She laughed at that, she couldn’t help it. “How come?”
She gathered her purse as Michael said, “I don’t know why but it seems like when I take a woman to dinner she orders lettuce and glass of wine, no red meat, no dairy, no pork or anything else worth eating.”
“Maybe you aren’t taking out the right kind of women.”
Her face flamed as soon as the words left her mouth. She wasn’t normally that bold. “I didn’t mean…’
“I am not disagreeing with you,” he said amiably.
The lower floors of the offices were dark and quiet. Occasional lights burned here and there, other driven people working late into the night. They opted to walk because the night air was soft and warm and neither of them wanted to be as close to one another as the car would have caused them to be.
The sidewalks were mostly empty, a few college kids and tourists were scattered around. They reached the diner and took a seat inside. Kelly was still trying to think of something to say when the waitress appeared to take their orders. They both asked for the meatloaf and garlic whipped potatoes, brown gravy and creamed peas.
“You’re just two colleagues having a meal,” Kelly told herself but she kept staring at his hands and full lower lip. That lip looked kissable; she wanted to kiss it. So much so that she actually felt her body swaying toward his. She yanked herself back and forced a thought to coalesce.
“How do you like the department?”
“I like it.” His eyes locked onto her own and he said the words with just enough of a smile that they somehow became a innuendo. “There’s work to do but I like a challenge.”
“So do I.” Her voice was a little breathless.
“So tell me, what keeps you in the office burning the oil like you do?”
“What keeps you doing it?” She countered.
She was defensive and that told him a lot more than she knew. He studied her carefully; she was a beautiful woman and young as well. He knew from her transcripts that she was intelligent and her work proved her to be far more than competent. She had no worries on that score, she would have a job for a long time to come. So there something else, something deeply rooted and personal that kept her working when others had gone home for the night.
“Doesn’t your boyfriend mind?”
Her face tightened instantly, subconsciously revealing to him far more information than she would have desired. His eyes went to her fingers, no ring marks, no tan lines or anything else to indicate that there was a fiancée or significant other.
“No.”
He didn’t press and she didn’t offer. The food came and they filled up the silence with small talk: weather and music, theatre. To his pleased surprise she was a sports fan and they had a long conversation about the local teams and their chances before the waitress came back to ask if they wanted dessert.
They did, but not the fare that was on the menu, they were both hungering for something more, something slightly less ordinary.
**
At the office they headed into the parking garage. Her space was on the floor below his and he walked her there. An awkward silence had fallen and she turned to face him, a half-smile on her face.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said. “I know that sounds terribly inane.”
The sodium vapor light glowed around her face, brought out the gold highlights in her hair. His cock throbbed against the front of his slacks. He wanted her and he was no longer in t
he mood to deny it.
He stepped closer and his strong fingers tilted her face up, she heard her own indrawn breath then his lips came down on hers in a demanding and fierce kiss that left her gasping even as she pressed her body to his and kissed him back with just as much unbridled passion as he was using.
Michael knew he should stop but he couldn’t help resist. He cupped his hands and ran them down the long column of her spine, stopping when his fingers could cup the undersides of her ripe buttocks. Her crotch tiled and he rubbed his hard prick against her there, a moan told him that she didn’t find that an unwelcome gesture.
Kelly was spinning in a lust fueled haze. Her senses were lit up so that every breath, every slight movement made sensations rocket through her body. Michael gripped her jaw slightly tighter; his mouth came down on the soft flesh of her neck. Teeth grazed her skin, then bit. A shriek erupted from her, fear and excitement both mingled as he paused for a moment then kissed her again.
It was heady, his unrelenting kisses and the burning in her neck. When his fingers slid to the top button of her blouse she held her breath, eagerly anticipating his unbuttoning her blouse.
He didn’t. He tore it instead. There was an oddly musical jingle as the buttons hit the asphalt and bounced upward before rolling off into the night.
The same feverish passion that had filled her on the beach that night with Greg erupted again. His fingers gripped the lacy red bra she wore below her prim blouse and a devilish smile crossed his face, here was proof that she was a sensual woman below her prim and proper exterior.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
The words shocked her. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her like that. But his voice, deep, hoarse and full of lust was a thing so primal she had never heard those words said like that before. “Yes,” her hard exhale and answer shocked her further. What was she doing? Were they really going to fuck in the parking garage? Was she losing her mind? The bra opened and his teeth and tongue caressed her nipples, tiny nibbling bites making her cry out.
Michael tore his tie off. Before she could understand what he planned to do with it he had gagged her with it. The tie tasted like his skin and she fought fear down, forced herself to relax.
He bent her over the hood of her car. She shivered as he pushed her staid knee-length skirt up past her hips, exposing her panties. The panties tore with a long sound that reminded her of a zipper being pulled down. Her heart thundered in her chest as his fingers caressed the firm globes of her ass cheeks, his nails scratching slightly.
The breeze blew against her exposed mound, vulnerability snaked in and so did shame. What if they got caught? What would she look like to anyone who saw them? That thought titillated her further and she could feel slippery oils dripping onto her inner thighs.
Michael ran a finger along the exposed outer seam of her labia. She opened under that touch, showing him her slick inner lips. He found her clit and circled it with his fingers, her hips jerked and bucked in response.
He couldn’t resist. He rubbed her ass cheeks again, kneading them and caressing them. One finger slid into the deep cleft and out again before she could really register anything more than the lightness of the touch.
She sighed, the ardor she had felt cooling at that touch. Michael sensed it and a grin crossed his face. He knew exactly what it was she wanted, needed, even if she didn’t.
His hand came down firmly on her right cheek. When it came away a red stain in the shape of his handprint stayed behind. She shrieked and jumped and her pussy gave off a low and insistent throb that made her arch her ass up toward him, a plea rising to her lips.
“Again?” Michael asked.
“Yes,” she moaned behind the makeshift gag.
“Say please,” he ordered.
She said something that sounded enough like please. He smacked the other ass cheek. Pain rose and faded but the pleasure stayed behind. Her swollen tunnel spilled more heated oil into her dark pubic curls and he began to alternate the slaps to her ass with the slow circles around her clit.
An orgasm exploded from her, she couldn’t control it. Her body locked into rigid lines and then relaxed as her wet slit opened and closed, gushing sticky white fluids across his expensive cuff links.
“Good girl,” Michael said and helped her stand.
Emotions swam in and out as he kissed her tenderly and helped her to dress. He held her against his broad and warm chest and she buried her face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him, the same scent that had been in her mouth.
He helped her into her car and said, “I’ll follow you home to make sure you’re okay.”
She wanted to protest but didn’t. Exhaustion had crept in and she was grateful for the comforting sight of his headlights in her rearview.
At her apartment he walked her to her door and waited until it closed to leave. Watching his lights head back down the street a new fear hit her hard. What would she say to him tomorrow at work? Worse, what would he say to her? Would he tell everyone what had happened?
She began to cry, everything she had worked so hard for could come tumbling down. Princess crept out of hiding and tried to gnaw off her foot and she gave the cat a glare that must have looked scary because he ran off without another bite.
She dried her eyes and made a cup of herbal tea, fed Princess and went to bed. She lay there, looking at the ceiling and doing her best not to think about the feel of his hands on her body and his tongue moving against hers. That was a losing battle. It was all she could think about.
**
“I thought you would be in earlier.”
Embarrassment kept her eyes rooted to the computer screen. “I overslept a bit.”
He doubted it. There were lavender shadows under her eyes that said otherwise. “I want to talk to you about last night.”
She looked up. Michael stood there, his face carved into determined lines. He had closed the door in case an early arriving employee came walking by. “What about it?”
“Do you know what happened?”
Her face flamed scarlet. “Of course.”
“I mean do you really understand what we were doing?”
She wanted to say yes but her head shook from side to side. “But I want to,” she added in a rush.
“Why?”
“I never felt that way before. I mean I felt almost like that once but not that…I can’t explain it.”
Satisfaction swelled Michael’s spirits. “You don’t have to. We had a BDSM scene. You submitted to me.”
Submitted. The word felt right. “I still don’t understand.”
“But you still want to?”
“Yes.” She did, more than anything else.
“Will you go somewhere with me tonight?”
The parking garage maybe? Her heart almost jumped out of her chest at the thought. “I…I don’t….where?”
“To a club. It’s a place for members only. I’ll have to vouch for you but I think you’ll really enjoy it.”
Her head told her to say no, to stay as far away from him as possible. Sleeping with the boss was a dangerous game, was she really so besotted she was willing to play? The memory of him ripping her shirt came back and she shivered, her nipples tightening below her blouse.
“Ok. I’ll go,” she said recklessly.
Touch Book 2: Dark Temptation
Kelly had been told to go home precisely at five and she had left work earnestly. Shortly after her arrival, her doorbell had rung and a deliveryman had thrust several boxes marked with the name of a very exclusive and incredibly expensive boutique at her. She tossed Princess into the kitchen with a double helping of food before opening the topmost box. Her mouth sagged open when she parted the scarlet tissue paper to reveal a long dress with a halter top, low cut back and a sexy slit that would effectively show all of her right leg up to the thigh when she walked.
The dress was made of the purest black silk. In the box was a card and she sat down before opening it and re
ading the words written there in a masculine back slanting hand:
Wear your hair up. Red lipstick. No jewelry or perfume. Wear the stockings and shoes, no panties or bra. I will be there at eight sharp. Be ready.
It was a direct order and she knew it. That knowledge thrilled her, but what thrilled her even more was her willingness to take the order. She didn’t try to examine those feelings; she just let them wash over her as she went into her tiny bathroom, drew a steaming tub and climbed into it.
She took her time getting ready, enjoying the feel of the warm water, the silky bath oils and the feeling of anticipation that climbed higher into her belly with every passing second. She washed her hair and glossed it then dried it and pulled it up high, allowing a few curls to fall against her face. She shaded her eyes carefully in soft brown and a double coat of mascara, applied her lipstick and slid her lean legs into the delicate silk stockings adjusting their lacy tops so that they lay flat and smooth. There were no garters. She stared at that erotic little scrap of fabric, relishing the way it outlined and encased her pale white flesh.
The dress went on and she stood there bemused. Someone entirely different stared back at her: someone who was bold and a little dangerous. She moved experimentally and the dress shimmered and clung to her curves.
“Oh shit,” she whispered. “I’m in so much trouble.”
And you like it, a voice inside her head replied. She couldn’t deny that.
**
Michael felt a grin cracking his lips when she opened the door. She was as gorgeous as a painting by a grand master, all angles and luminescent skin. The black silk clung to her elegant frame like a second skin. He took her arm, pleased by its satiny texture.
“The dress is perfect for you.”
“Thank you.” She paused, unsure of what to say. “I didn’t know you would have to buy me something to wear. I can pay for…”
“No.” His curt tone halted her words. He spoke again, more gently, “I bought it because I wanted to. It suits you by the way.”