DrillingDownDeep

by Angela Claire

  He leaned back casually against the windowsill and she took a deep breath to calm herself. Other than that enormous exposed erection and the sweat glistening on his chest and brow, he could have been standing in line to order mocha he looked so collected and unruffled. One glance at the mirror on the wall across from them, though, told her she looked anything but. Her hair was a wild mess of curls, her topless breasts heaving, with their nipples rosy from his fondling. She had barely recovered from her first orgasm when he had teased her into expecting a second and then rudely deprived her of it just so he could stand so calmly before her. As if she’d been the only one having wild sex here.

  He folded his arms across his chest, considering her.

  She glanced at the wide-open view behind him, skyscrapers in the distance almost, but not quite as tall as the Transcoastal headquarters itself. “You better watch out, Reynolds. Being bare assed against a window is inviting trouble, no matter how high up. They have news helicopters in Texas too, you know.”

  “Thanks for the reminder.” He pulled the back of his pants up, not exactly what she had been aiming for, though his cock still stuck straight out from his un-zippered lap.

  It should have looked comical. But it sure as fuck did not.

  She headed for him again, intending to climb right on top of his lap, regardless of why he’d called a sudden halt, or for that matter any traffic helicopters that might be in range, and he tutted, the sound stopping her. “No, no, no, Miss Donald. No second orgasm for you just yet.”

  “What about a first one for you?”

  “All in good time.”

  His calm voice and considering stare were annoying her, big time.

  “Let’s play a little game, Vanny.”

  “Okay with me. ’Cause I sure as hell wouldn’t mind whipping your ass right now. Where’s the crop or whatever it’s called?”

  “I’m afraid I was serious when I said that particular fetish doesn’t appeal to me, but I do appreciate you thinking outside the box. Feel free to keep that up.”

  “And what about that?” She nodded at his cock. “You proving you can keep it up without fucking or something?”

  “Keeping it up isn’t really a problem with you in the room, especially topless as you are and with your pants pulled down.”

  “Thank you for that reminder because I’m about to get dressed again if you don’t do something with that cock of yours.”

  “Sit down.” He indicated the straight-back desk chair.

  “Fine.” She pulled her jeans up again and flounced over to it, turning it toward him and sitting down. “Now what?”

  “Bare-assed, as you so delightfully put it, if you don’t mind.”

  “Is the object of this game to order me around?”

  “The object of this game is to remind you who’s the boss.”

  She stood up again and took her jeans off and then sat spread-eagle on the chair. He watched her. Maybe she had another game in mind.

  It was one she’d played that night at the Four Seasons. Making Michael Reynolds lose control.

  “Nice. Very nice, Vanny.” He stroked his cock casually. “Let’s slow things down a little. Show me how you play with yourself. I want to see it.”

  The corner of her mouth went up. Now that was a request she could get into.

  She reached a hand down to her pussy, so wet from his attentions that she had to wipe her fingers dry on her skin first to get some bearings. Then she put her middle finger to her clit and pressed in a small circle lightly. “How’s this?”

  And actually, it felt darn good to her. She was very close given how far he’d brought her. Her eyes narrowed. At least she’d be able to give herself some relief.

  “Don’t come.”

  She paused.

  “Sexual tension can be even more pleasurable if it’s drawn out. I think you need to learn some control, Vanny.”

  “Oh yeah?” Deliberately, she inserted two fingers inside her warm, wet pussy, watching his reflexive grip on his cock tighten at the sight. “Well, I think you need to learn how to lose some control.”

  Fingers moving inside her, she flicked her thumb against her clit but didn’t close her eyes this time. She watched him. “This feels so good. I’m imagining it’s your cock and you’re fucking me again.” Low and breathy, she knew her voice sounded anything but calm. And she didn’t care. “God, when I came and tightened my pussy around your cock…wow.”

  She moved her hips slightly as she talked, feeling his intense blue eyes on her. His cock was in his own hand, jerking the length of it now. It was all so hot that even though she’d just been teasing him, she thought she would come any second. Her eyelids drifted shut and in a split second he had yanked her off the chair and bent her over it, kicking her legs open.

  “I said don’t come,” he barked, no longer in possession of that annoyingly calm voice. He rammed his cock inside her and she took him, greedily, pushing her ass out toward him as she gripped the rungs of the chair.

  “You’ll come,” he flexed against her in time to his words, each thrust slick and hard and welcome to a body that had already begun to crave his touch, “when I say you’ll come.”

  She laughed—satisfied at both unsettling him and getting him back inside her again.

  With one hand he grabbed a fist full of her hair and yanked her head back to demand a kiss, which she gave eagerly, their tongues tangling as their bodies coupled. With his other hand, he reached in front of her, feeling unerringly for her clit, puffy and moist and on a hair-trigger now. Funny how it felt so much better when he did it. He fondled her as he fucked her, as he kissed her, and she shuddered with the pleasure.

  She got her orgasm with that, his fingers rubbing her clit, his cock pounding up deep inside her and his mouth taking hers. With such a triumvirate of sensation, how could she not? And this time, he came with her, silently, shuddering as well. Her head fell forward, curls obscuring her vision, and as she drifted down from the sexual high, he kissed the nape of her neck. Softly.

  But he rested against her only for a moment before his hands fell away and he pulled out.

  Breathing heavily, she stood straight again, slowly, as he took off the condom and threw it in a wastebin and then fastened his trousers. The room suddenly seemed inordinately quiet and for some ridiculous reason she felt shy. The smile she was wearing dimmed in view of the enigmatic expression on his face and the fact he wasn’t looking at her. In fact, he was sort of acting as if she wasn’t in the room anymore.

  Without even searching for a tissue to wipe between her legs or anything, she followed suit, picking up her jeans and searching for her bra and the white shirt, leaving the ripped tank top as ruined.

  Neither of them said anything at first.

  As pleasurable as her orgasms were, this was not at all what she had expected. He finally lost control at the end of it, true, but her triumph was short-lived with this wordless no-nonsense wrapping up. It felt so sterile compared to her other times with him. Of course he didn’t realize it was her during that first one. Maybe this was how he treated all his mistresses. Maybe it was even more of a business arrangement than she had ever imagined.

  As if confirming that, he said, “I don’t like to wear a condom. I do it only when I’m not sure of my partner’s, ah, health.”

  “Or don’t,” she said in an obvious reference to his failure to do so the last time on the rig.

  “I’m afraid you made me forget myself that time. You seem to be into making me lose control.”

  “I think you’re into it too,” she observed, though he ignored it.

  “Since I want to continue the relationship, I’d like you to be tested.” He rummaged in the drawer of the desk and handed her a card. “Miss Prentiss can make the appointment for you if you like.”

  She glanced at the card. It was for a Dr. Wrigley.

  “He’ll get the results to me as quickly as he can and we’ll go from there.”

  “So you don’t
want to sleep together again until you make sure of my purity? Fine with me.”

  He pulled her to him and kissed her hard, nipping at her, thrusting his tongue inside, sucking her own, so hard that she was dazed with it by the time he lifted his head and whispered, “I know you’re not pure, despite your angelic-looking face. I just want to make sure you’re not carrying anything. And until I get the results, I’m not keeping my hands off you. Hell no. I’ll use a condom. Then when I can, I’m going to fuck you barebacked so often and for so long you won’t be able to stand for a week.”

  She jerked her head away. “Fuck you.”

  “You need a new line.”

  “What about pregnancy? Aren’t you afraid I’ll get pregnant and trick you into a lifetime of extravagant child support?”

  “That’s another thing Dr. Wrigley will do. He’ll give you an injection of Depo-Provera, the birth control shot. That way I can be assured no ‘accidents’ will happen.”

  “Or you could get a vasectomy.”

  “Believe me, I’ve thought about it.”

  “Fine. I’ll see your doctor. But I can make my own appointment. I don’t need a secretary to do it.”

  “See that you do.” When she was fully dressed, tying the tails of the shirt around her waist, and almost to the door he called out, “And welcome back to my bed, Shelly.”

  She turned to him, truly shocked after all this time.

  “I never forget a fuck, Vanessa. Those little sounds you make as my cock pounds into you. They’re very distinctive. You had me fooled at first with your coloring on the rig, but when I saw your tits naked again, kissed you on the rig, I knew.”

  “You knew when you asked me to be your mistress?”

  “Of course. I never buy anything without thoroughly checking out the merchandise first. One night can be a fluke. When I fucked you on the rig, I knew you were worth it.”

  “So what?” she said aggressively.

  “So were you planning to plant a bomb that night at the hotel too and got distracted? I’m flattered.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” She continued to the door, but he moved quickly to block it.

  “What were you doing picking me up that night?”

  She shrugged. “I felt like it. It was ridiculously easy to do. I’m surprised you haven’t found another mistress yet. You’re very indiscriminate.”

  “Indiscriminate. Now you sound like Shelly in the expensive sexy suit, not Vanny in coveralls and swearing every five words.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “There’s Vanny again. How do you keep it straight? But don’t sell yourself short. It was easy for you to pick me up. The question, though, is why. Care to enlighten me?”

  “No. Can I go now or are you revoking the job offer?”

  “I’m not revoking anything. I’m being clear on the terms. You’re not going to play me for a fool. But sit back down. I’m not done with you yet.”

  She gave a martyred sigh and went to the edge of the bed to flop down.

  He stood in front of her, looking down. “What was with the contacts? The hair that night? From what I saw a little more clearly today, you’re a natural blonde.”

  “I play with my looks sometimes. What’s wrong with that?”

  “You’re lying. You didn’t want to look like it was you. And the fake name.”

  “Shelly’s my middle name. I never did give you a last name. You didn’t seem too worried about it at the time.”

  “The fake scenario about separating from your husband?”

  “How do you know I don’t have one?”

  He cocked his head disbelievingly.

  “Okay, I was just playing around. You know, role playing. Another game, I guess.”

  “I’ll give you games you never imagined, Vanessa.”

  Chapter Five

  “I don’t know. I have a pretty good imagination. So now that everything’s out in the open—”

  “Everything?”

  “Sure. You know all my secrets. I pick up guys in bars and pretend I’m somebody else.”

  “How about the bomb thing? Want to come clean on that too? Or anything else?” he hinted.

  “Are you wearing a wire?”

  “And as to picking up guys, that’s past tense. Not while you’re my mistress, you don’t. I want to be one hundred percent clear on this. You don’t sleep with anybody else.”

  “You kind of already made that clear with the STD-testing thing.”

  “I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding.”

  “And what if I do? Do I get fired and then get severance?”

  “Hardly. I believe that’s what they call termination for cause, Vanny.”

  “No really. How does this all work? I’m on call and look pretty, waiting until I’m up to bat, and then I stay or you stay or whatever as long as you want? And we do what you want? Help me out here. I’ve never been a mistress before. I need to know what’s expected.”

  “That’ll do for now.”

  “What about the monetary end of it? You support me? For how long?”

  “For as long as I want it to last.”

  “I don’t know. That doesn’t sound like much job security to me.”

  “On the other hand, you’ll be making a much higher wage than you ever did on a rig. Might I suggest you save some of it?”

  “Might I suggest you mind your own fucking business about what I do with my money?”

  He shrugged. He’d never actually had to be so crass as to pay a mistress before. Not with money. All of them, now that he thought about it, had been wealthy in their own right. Not as wealthy as him, of course, but still. He had to get out of his own social set more, he supposed. So he’d given them the usual tokens of affection that women expected from a wealthy lover—diamonds and lavish travel and whatnot—but never actual cash.

  For some undoubtedly perverted reason, this arrangement with Vanessa Donald appealed to him. As if it would help him control her perhaps.

  Good luck with that, some inner voice mocked him.

  And, in fact, his so-called demonstration of control had backfired on him. He shouldn’t have tried it before he’d at least come once. She honestly drove him to distraction. And now here she was, grilling him as if her next request might be for a written contract. The lawyers would love that.

  At least she’d come. To him, he meant. Oh, and she’d come too, during the sex. That was good, though he had been trying to hold her off on the second one, for all the good it did him. But he meant what he said to her when he found her wet. He liked responsiveness in a woman.

  And she was delightfully responsive. They clicked, sexually, in a way he knew was pretty unusual. They had clicked on the rig too, maybe even more than sexually, before he found the bomb of course. And then after, sexually was all he cared about.

  He worried he might never see her again, hefty bank deposit or not. He didn’t know whether he believed she was innocent with respect to the bomb. Her night as Shelly certainly hadn’t helped her credibility. Specialists had swept the Treasure Driller thoroughly and found nothing else. But it had looked as though she was planting the bomb. Even if her father was innocent, or maybe especially if he was innocent, she might resent Transcoastal and want to do the company some harm.

  He didn’t know at this point. And, even more oddly, he didn’t care.

  He should, especially if she hadn’t planted the bomb since that meant somebody else had. And if that was the case, he should be more interested in finding out who had. Oh, and feeling guilty about firing her and blackballing her, he supposed.

  But he wasn’t and he didn’t. It had brought her to him.

  The Reynolds family motto. Whatever it takes.

  And he’d figure out the Treasure Driller situation when he’d secured her.

  He glanced around at the very convenient room in which he and Vanny were having this odd conversation. When Miss Prentiss faithfully carried out the strange instructions he’d given her and in
terrupted his meeting at Vanny’s arrival, he couldn’t get rid of his Japanese joint-venture partners fast enough. He would’ve hated to have to wait until he got his new mistress back to his apartment to seal the deal.

  Of course he’d ended up fucking her over a desk and then a chair anyway, undoubtedly trying to send God knew what message with his cold treatment of her, but time to use the bed now.

  To think, when he bought Transcoastal, he had actually considered turning this bedroom into a conference room. He was glad he hadn’t. He’d use it after all.

  Quite a lot as long as Vanny Donald was around apparently. Just having her sitting in front of him on the bed inspired him on that score.

  “You know as pleasurable as my night with Shelly was, it occurs to me that she—and of course by that I mean you—didn’t get around to one thing I like in all my mistresses.”

  “And what’s that?”

  She was eye level with his rapidly hardening cock and he brought her hand to the snap on his trousers. “Guess.”

  She licked her lips.

  “Good guess,” he said.

  She pulled her hand away and leaned back on the bed on her palms. “Actually, I don’t do that. Giving head. It creeps me out.”

  Probably his mouth fell open stupidly or steam came out of his ears or his head popped off.

  She laughed. “You should see your face! I’m just kidding. I assume that was a deal breaker.”

  Not wanting to seem like a total pig, he didn’t respond.

  “But seriously, are you going to be ordering me around all the time?”

  “What if I was?”

  “I don’t think I’d like that.”

  “I remember. You said you didn’t take orders well. And that’s certainly proven to be true. But now you’re being paid for it. Of course, you were probably paid for it that night too, weren’t you? In some fashion.”

  “What do you mean by that? You didn’t find your wallet gone or anything at the end of the night, did you?”