Rub Me The Wrong Way (Erotic Shorts Book 2)

by Neal, Xavier

  “Do you even know people of the opposite sex who don't end up on the covers of those books?”

  “Don't sneer your nose at what I do, especially since they're always your favorite Christmas presents.”

  Angela stutters briefly. “I'm…I'm not saying that I don't enjoy them. I'm simply asking do you know men outside of work?”

  Klous' delicious naked body flickers in my mind. “A couple.”

  “Are they married?”

  “One...isn't.” On a sigh, I start scrolling down my emails, trying to ignore the ones from Dani. “Let me ask you something, Angela.”

  “No. You can't hire an escort as a date to my party.”

  I hate my sister. “Ha-ha.”

  “Not funny when someone messes with your emotions is it?”

  “Are you done?”

  She briefly pauses and then sighs. “I'm listening.”

  “There's this guy who is very interested in me-”

  “Is he fictional?”

  That's not funny either. Pushing past the snide remark I snap, “But...I don't know. I...haven't taken him up on his offer.”

  “Why? Is he ugly?”

  “God no. He looks like something that should be used as a blue print to create the rest of the male population.”

  “Is he broke?”

  “Great job. Believe his family even has a little bit of money.”

  “Is he an asshole?”

  The flower from the other day, I had Hope put in a vase, catches my attention. “Not at all.”

  “Then stop being stupid and go out with him.” I shut my eyes. “Look, Astin, I know you've got this whole holier than thou, woman in charge, bullshit complex. But face it. You're lonely.”

  “I'm not-”

  “And probably horny.”

  “Definitely not that-”

  “More importantly, just do something that's outside of work! Remember that there's a big world on the other side of printing pages. Go out with him.”

  “He asked and I already told him no. I can't untell him no.”

  “So do something to grab his attention,” she suggests. “Something that will make him reach out to you, that way you still have that power you so desperately need.”

  Slowly I nod. She might actually be on to something.

  “If this guy is Prince Charming or even Prince Charming's second cousin twice removed, bring him as your date.”

  “Ugh.” Thankfully Hope's return rescues me from further humiliation. “I really do have to go. I'll talk to you later, Angela.”

  “Date! Date! Date!”

  “Thank you, cheer captain.” I grumble and hang up.

  Hope slides over a box containing two slices of my favorite pizza as well as a bottle of water. “Anything else?”

  With my sister's poor chant but good advice lingering I say, “Can you cancel my lunch time massage appointment for tomorrow and book me a lunch reservation for two at Lucy's?”

  “Sure...” Hope replies slowly. “Is this lunch for me and you?”

  “No.”

  Getting a wide grin she questions, “Is it for you and Mr. Klein?”

  “Thank you for lunch.”

  Hope giggles and starts to back out of my office slowly. “Am I gonna get to see him?”

  I point my finger. “Out.”

  Her snicker fades as she shuts my door. This is gonna be good. Maybe everyone is right. Maybe I need more in my life. Maybe sex with a little romance isn't such a piss poor idea.

  Lunch comes and goes between endless emails and mountains of things to give the final proofing. Towards the end of the afternoon, Hope appears in my doorway with a huge grin on her face.

  Immediately I sigh. “If it's Dani, I'm in another meeting.”

  “It's a Mr. Klein on line one.”

  Crossing my ankles under the table, I hide my smirk. “Thank you.”

  “Does he have an extra toe or something?” Hope ponders. I lift my eyebrows sarcastically. “Yeah. Yeah. Out. I know.”

  As soon as Hope shuts the door, I answer, “This is Miss Anderson.”

  “Hello, Miss Anderson.” Klous' voice sounds more distant than normal. “Calling to confirm your cancellation for your appointment tomorrow.”

  Twirling the pen around my fingers I reply, “Yes.”

  “All right,” he says curtly. “Confirmed. Enjoy your day, Miss Anderson.”

  “Wait,” I croak out. “You're not gonna ask me why?”

  His voice heavily sighs. “Does it matter?”

  “It does.”

  “Fine. Why?”

  “Because we're going to lunch instead.” There's a long stretch of silence on the phone. Finally I add, “I know your lunch break is after my appointment, so I figured we could have an extended meal together.”

  “In public?”

  His snide comment forces me to drop the pen. “Is that a problem?”

  “It's a start.” After a deep breath he says, “Where?”

  Relieved he hasn't changed his mind, I toy with the pen again. “Lucy's.”

  “I'll see you then.” Unsure if he is still upset with the rejection from yesterday, I nibble on the inside of my bottom lip. “Look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Astin.”

  Relieved I smile. “Enjoy your night, Klous.”

  Wednesday

  Adjusting myself in the booth in the very back of the restaurant I take a long deep breath. This is fine. We'll just have some food. Learn a little something about each other. This should be enough to get everyone off my back about dating and satisfy my craving for their fresh baked bread. It's my favorite.

  Instead of awkwardly trying to stare at the other people I can't even see from my location, I check the texts waiting for me.

  Angela: Is your push up bra on?

  Rolling my eyes I check the next one from my assistant.

  Hope: Buck teeth?

  “Same rules apply, Astin. No phones.”

  I lift my face up to see Klous standing in front of me in a pair of dark jeans and a white fitted shirt, both articles of clothing looking like they may melt off of him from the intense heat he naturally radiates. How the fuck do I breathe again? The only in and out motion I am thinking about has nothing to do with lungs.

  His tongue wets his lips and I softly whimper, “Understood?”

  Casually I drop my phone in my bag. “Yes, sir.”

  “Mmm. I like the way that sounds,” he replies as he slides in the booth next to me. “Say it again.”

  “You're so bossy.”

  “Do you want me to bend you over this table and remind you what happens when you don't follow instructions?”

  Torn between the excitement I feel when he takes control and the annoyance that he always has to have the power, I push back. “I do.”

  Klous' grins widely and asks, “Exhibitionist?”

  “Afraid?”

  “Of you or what you're doing to me?”

  The question takes me a bit off guard causing me to need a sip of water. Thankfully the waitress comes over to grab his drink order and drop us off some bread. Smoothing the long white tablecloth that's covering the table, I allow him a moment in silence to review the menu.

  It doesn't take long before Klous shuts it and folds his hands together on top of it. My eyes drift over to him, drinking in the way his muscles are giving me a dry mouth that only his tongue with mine could cure. How can any man be so sexy without fucking trying?

  “When you look at me like that, Astin, it's hard to resist the need to have you naked and under me.”

  Flirtatiously I reply, “Under you or over you?”

  Klous leans over so his lips are next to my ear. “Any position that lets me be balls deep in you.” The second he hears my breath hitch he adds, “And you love me being balls deep.”

  A soft moan escapes just seconds before the waitress reappears. As soon as she takes my order, my hand slides across his thigh that's hidden under the table, curious if I have a similar effect on h
im as he does me. Klous' hard cock nudges at my hand, warmly greeting it. His green eyes cut to me. He lifts them.

  “Love, what are you doing?”

  Stroking the outside of his jeans, I whisper, “Taking control.” My hand massages him at the same time I declare, “My. Turn.”

  Instead of resisting or putting up a fight like I would expect, like he would if we were in his work space, he moves in closer, rests his elbows on the table and drops his face on his balled up fist. He sexily demands, “Then take it.”

  Leaning back he widens his legs and gives me the perfect chance to unbutton his jeans. The rush of doing this in a crowded restaurant shoots to my pussy, soaking my already dampened panties. My muscles ache for his touch. In a swift motion, I free his cock and grip it firmly causing a very loud hiss out of him.

  The sight of Klous at my mercy forces my walls to contract in an overwhelming need to have his cock that's in my hand, inside me instead. With the first couple of strokes, his eyes are fighting to stay open while his chest is struggling to stay even paced. My hand grips a little harder as I rub slowly and deliberately determined for him to feel the same helplessness that I do when I'm on the table. He groans lowly. Sinking into my touch. He bites his bottom lip to stop from calling out my name. All of these sights spur my movements to speed up.

  Before I know it, his hand is sliding around my side, gripping my hip harshly. “Fuck, Astin...”

  Moving my hand faster, I continue to study his body that's tensing. “You're gonna come for me, Klous.” He grumbles. Chewing on his lip again. I pump my hand harder, his nuts clenching against my hand. Leaning my lips next to his ear, I demand, “Now.”

  Klous' fingers anchor into me at the same time his body goes rigid. In short, hard bursts he surrenders his orgasm mercilessly. He shudders and groans so hard I feel the slightest touch of my pussy, even over the outside of my dress, and I could come with him.

  After several long slow breaths, he leans his face over to mine and says, “See. Sometimes it's alright to let others have control.”

  I smirk and use my napkin that's in my lap to clean up the mess in my hand.

  Suddenly the waitress' perky face is in front of us placing down plates and questioning if everything looks right. We assure her everything looks great, which assists as her cue to exit. Klous slyly tucks his dick away and buttons his pants back up.

  I turn to Klous. “I'm gonna go wash my hands.”

  He nods, but the second I go to leave, he stops me mid motion. His lips press against mine, not in a hungry passion to reignite the fire that's starting to dwindle between my legs, but as if claiming me in a different way. A way that says to me as much as the rest of the world that I belong to him. I'm not sure that I like it. However, I'm not sure that I don't.

  Friday

  Hope cringes and pushes the files at me. Seeing the immediate displeased look on my face, she sighs. “I know it doesn't match the digital proof.”

  “Precisely. What the fuck happened?”

  She tosses a hand in the air. “I'm not sure. I've been trying to back track who dropped the ball and can't find it.”

  Frustrated I pull my hair to one side of my face. “Like we don't give Dani enough to bitch about?”

  “I-”

  “I don't wanna fucking hear it, Hope. Just...” Shaking my head I move the disaster over. “What else?”

  “The menus for the company event need to be approved and finalized.” Hope places another file in front of me. “The invitation list needs to be finalized as well. I narrowed it down. However, there are a few names I know you're going to want to cut but not sure which ones. They need to be sent out tomorrow.”

  Placing a hand on the file, I bite. “At least tell me you-”

  “Picked out the settings for them. Yes.”

  “Lastly, there are sixteen queries waiting for your answer.” Before I can bitch about it she assures, “Yes. That is the weeded out list. All need to have emails sent out by the end of the night.”

  I run my hands through my hair, the reality of what my evening is shaping up to be like settling on the very places I have to sacrifice relieving the pressure from. “Why are all these submissions just landing on my desk?”

  “They aren't.” Hope leans back in the chair across from me. “I've been sending you a few every day to go through, but...obviously, you've been a little distracted.”

  A little distracted is putting the shit mildly. Lunch with Klous turned out to be more intimate than anything else we had done yet. We talked a little about his family and mine, which is something I don't typically do. During the conversation that pushed past our family and jobs, onto favorite movies and food, every word out of my mouth seemed to be the only thing he was interested in. It's insane to have another human being who I'm not paying to listen be that interested. If that wasn't enough, his hands couldn't leave my body. He stroked my face. My neck. My shoulder. My thigh...God when his hand slipped on my thigh, I silently begged he would return the public masturbating session I put him through.

  “Like now,” Hope points out to me. “Distracted. Is this about Mr. Klein?”

  I don't want to answer that, so I don't.

  “What's the problem, Astin?”

  “I don't have a problem.”

  “You do.” My jaw drops and she lifts a hand to me. “You got back from lunch Wednesday floating on cloud nine, but yesterday and today you've seemed...unhappy. My assumption is, you don't know if you wanna spend time with him because you think it'll affect your work-”

  “It has affected my work.” My hand motions across the disaster in front of me. “Obviously.”

  “Only because instead of dealing with it, you're trying to hide from it. Put it on the table and face it head on like everything else.”

  That's not the only thing I'm afraid of. And I don't have time to think about it or anything else involving one hunk of muscular man candy.

  “Can we get back on topic here? Anything else?”

  “I ordered your sister's wedding present. I picked up your dress for it and am on my way to pick out one for the event. Do you need anything while I'm out?”

  “Did you cancel-”

  “Your massage appointment for tomorrow morning? Yes. Do I need to make plans for dinner for you tonight?”

  “I'll...be fine. Thank you.” Lifting up my phone to make one of the three calls I have to in the next two hours, I add, “Do you mind getting the car washed as well?”

  “It's on my list next to dry cleaning.” Standing, Hope prepares to leave but something stops her. “Look, I know you don't wanna talk about Mr. Klein, so I just want to say when you're ready, I'm ready.”

  “Go before you break out into campfire songs.”

  “Kumbaya...” She starts singing overly dramatically. “My Lord. Kumbaya...”

  Her humor makes me smirk as I shake my head. I dial the first number on the list and continue on with a day that seems like it won't have an end.

  Around six o’clock, shortly after Hope has left, my cell phone rings. Without wasting time to check who it is, I answer, signing another document. “This is Astin.”

  “So you answer your own phone with your first name. Interesting.”

  Klous' voice falters my signature. “It's my personal number so yes.”

  “Dinner?”

  Closing the file I move it to the finished pile. “Can't.”

  “Busy?”

  “Very.”

  “Alone?”

  The slight jealousy I think I hear in his voice stops my movement again. “Yes. I'm at the office.”

  “Well, you're going to have to eat sometime.”

  “Maybe. But between the unanswered submissions and event proofs that I have yet to touch, it doesn't seem like that'll be happening today. Look, Klous, I have to go, but I appreciate the call. Maybe another time.”

  “Maybe not,” is his reply. “We'll talk soon.”

  Without waiting for my goodbye, he hangs up. Huh. T
hat went well. This is exactly what I mean when I say I don't have time for this shit. I don't have time for someone to be pissy every time I have to work rather than be with them.

  About two hours later, my office phone rings. Confused who could be calling this late since our office hours are long over, I answer. “This is Miss Anderson.”