by Lucy Wild
“Just be more careful next time,” I said, resisting the urge to ask.
“I’m so sorry. You must think I’m an idiot.”
“Not at all. Look, I’m busy, I need to get on.”
“Of course, I’m just holding you up. I don’t even know why I thought it would work.”
“Why what would work?”
She dipped her head, looking at the floor before speaking. “I thought if I brought the boss a coffee, oh, it’s stupid, forget I said anything.”
“It’s your first day and you thought you’d make a good impression by taking a coffee to the boss?”
“Yeah, silly, isn’t it?”
“Not really. I could do with a coffee.”
“You don’t mean, tell me you’re not the boss, please.”
I nodded. “Afraid so.”
“Oh, that’s just perfect. I might as well go home now.”
“No, hang on. Look, I’ve got to pop to finance but then I’d love a coffee. Bring one to my office in twenty minutes, just promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Don’t throw it over me again.”
I buttoned my jacket as I left her standing there. I had an office full of people who would have leapt over each other for a chance to bring me a drink if I asked but I’d never done so before. I wanted one from her. Looking into those eyes of hers had made me want a lot more than a drink from her. A glance was enough to make me picture her bent over whilst I raised a whip. Stop it, you’re at work, concentrate.
Dropping the paperwork off at the finance office, I was glad my jacket hid the worst of the staining. I was even more glad of the fresh shirt that waited on my desk when I got back. Susie really was good. Someone who noticed you needed a shirt and had one ready was someone you wanted to keep.
I took off my jacket and hung it on the back of my chair before loosening my tie. I had it off a moment later and was unbuttoning my shirt before I realised I’d left the blinds open. Crossing the room, I slid them shut, blocking the world out so I could change in private. I threw the stained shirt into the bin next to my desk before tearing into the cellophane covering the fresh one. I was just pulling it from the wrapping when the door flew open and the coffee girl appeared.
“Oh God,” she said, shielding her eyes with her arm. “I’ve done it again.”
“Look out,” I replied. “You’ll spill it.”
She looked up at her hand and realised it was twisting sideways in her efforts to avoid looking at me. “I should go, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were changing.”
“It’s fine,” I said, unable to resist laughing. “Come in and close the door though.”
“Of course,” she mumbled, groping for the door handle. Once we were alone, she shuffled forward with her eyes closed, fumbling for the edge of the desk.
“Open your eyes and look at what you’re doing,” I said as I pulled on the fresh shirt and began buttoning it up.
She did as I asked, glancing at my chest before pointedly looking down at the desk. “There’s your coffee,” she said, turning to go.
“Wait,” I replied, not even sure why I said it. She turned to look back at me and I realised I would have to say something. “Are you any good at taking notes?”
“It’s all I do at college.”
“What’s your name?”
“Natalie Brook.”
“And you’ve just started here?”
“Yep but….”
“I need to get a letter written and if there’s one thing I hate doing, it’s typing. I’d normally use a dictaphone and give it to one of the secretaries but the battery’s dead.” A lie but she didn’t know that.
“I’m supposed to be filing, Sir.”
Something stirred inside me when she said that. It was the way she called me Sir, that was part of it at least. But it was also the way she looked at me. She looked so innocent and flustered, as if she was still getting over the sight of me with my shirt off. She looked completely out of her depth and it made me want to look after her, amongst other things.
“Tell me something about yourself, Natalie. You said you’re at college?”
“I am.”
“What are you studying?”
“English Literature.”
“What’s the plan for after that?”
“I haven’t really thought about it yet. Maybe write a novel.”
“Good at typing, then?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“Then let’s get started,” I said, slipping my tie back on.
“It’s crooked.”
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“Your tie, it’s crooked. Have you got a mirror?”
“Not in here. Would you mind having a look?”
She stood up, and as she walked towards me she looked more out of her depth than ever. She looked scared of me, as if I might bite her. She was right.
I lifted my neck as she straightened my tie out. From this close I could feel her breath on me and even better, I could smell her. She smelt of freshness and innocence. But still she looked so scared.
I felt an anger rise up in me. Someone had treated her badly in the past, I could just tell. I found myself wishing I knew who it was, so I could find them and punish them for it. How could anyone mistreat such an innocent person? “Do you live with your parents?” I asked, the words falling out before I could stop them.
She shook her head. “I live with my housemate. There, how’s that?”
“Much better,” I replied, glancing down. “What’s your housemate like?”
“She’s all right, takes a bit of getting used to but I love her all the same.”
“What about your parents, do you get on with them?”
“Why are you asking?” Her voice was colder and I realised I’d gone too far. Whatever had happened in her past, she was not going to share it willingly.
“Never mind. Let’s get going, shall we?”
She sat down on the far side of the desk and I was glad. I needed some distance between us else the conflicting emotions inside my head would have overcome me. It was hard to explain how I felt as I began to dictate and she took neat notes, her tongue sticking from the corner of her mouth as she concentrated. Part of me wanted to protect her. It was like coming across a bird with a broken wing. It was impossible not to feel a pang of compassion towards her, seeing how frightened she appeared. But there was another part of me that I’d be a fool to pretend didn’t exist.
That part of me, the part that I kept hidden from a world that would never understand, that part wanted to do things to her that were the exact opposite of protecting her. I forced myself to ignore those thoughts as best I could. The only reason I’d been able to keep my reputation in the world was by making sure I only did those things in the most private of places with the few people able to keep my secrets.
A tiny smile flickered across my lips as I thought about introducing her to my world. It would ruin me, for certain, but it would also be a very sweet thing indeed. With her eyes fixed on the pad, I was able to look at her more closely. Natalie Brook, she had called herself. That was far too grown up for my liking. Someone like her, someone so innocent, she could only be a little Tilly. It had been a long time since I’d met someone I’d given a nickname to, and never someone who wasn’t part of my private world.
She looked up at me suddenly and I realised I’d stopped talking. “Where was I?” I asked. “Read it back to me so far.”
“Dear Sirs,” she began and I listened to her talk, wondering if she had the slightest idea what I wanted to do to her at that moment. She must not have had a clue because if she did, I had no doubt she would have sprinted away from my office without ever looking back.
Read on in Don’t Touch, out now!
ALSO BY THE SAME AUTHOR
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Daddy’s Here
Don’t Touch
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logue
Historical titles
A Little Wager – Published by Blushing Books
Little Conspiracy – Published by Blushing Books
Obedience – 5 historical DD/lg stories
The Sting of Pleasure – 15 historical DD/lg stories
LUCY WILD
Lucy Wild is a contemporary romance author who specialises in Daddy Dom and BDSM stories. Having recently switched from writing historical age play to contemporary bad boy, she is writing as fast as she can to satisfy her readers with regular new releases. She lives on the Yorkshire coast with her partner and their border collie in a house full of books, sweets and more books.
Visit her website at lucywild.co.uk. Join her followers on Bookbub to be emailed when a new book is released. Find her most recent titles on her Amazon author page, stop by her Facebook page or Goodreads page, follow her on Twitter, check out her Instagram and don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter for your exclusive bonus content. Please consider leaving a review on Amazon to support the author’s hard work.