by J. D. Chase
‘Hey Isla. About last week . . . you know, in reception. Oh God . . . every time I’ve seen you since, I’ve wanted to say something but told myself it’s better to leave things as they were . . . But I can’t. If I said anything I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry. I hope we’re still friends.’
She frowned, ‘Of course we are, Dean. It should be me apologising. I snapped at you.’
He smiled. ‘I shouldn’t have interfered but when I heard that he might’ve done something to you, hurt you even—’
She cut him off. ‘Well, he didn’t. It was just the usual gossip merchants. You know what they’re like – if they don’t have any gossip, they invent some. And bosses are an obvious target, aren’t they? Especially when there’s a new boss they know nothing about.’
He nodded and seemed to relax. ‘Yeah, I guess you’re right. Anyway, I just wanted to check that we’re good.’
She smiled, taking in his honest, hopeful expression. ‘Yeah, we’re good.’
He gave her a dazzling smile – the one that always threatened to take her breath away. He was an exceptionally good-looking guy but when he smiled, he was drop dead gorgeous. Then he spotted the twin pack of crushed breakfast biscuits that she’d managed to find. ‘Tell me that’s not your lunch . . . and please tell me you’re not on some crazy diet.’
She laughed. ‘No, I’m not dieting, although I probably should be. I missed breakfast and was late into work so I wanted to work through lunch, but I know I should eat something. These’ll do. I just found them in my drawer.’
He shook his head and his voice dropped, ‘You should look after yourself more. Or find someone who would love to look after you properly . . .’
His words hung in the air between them, their meaning clear. Their eyes locked but Isla found herself looking away quickly, and when she flicked her gaze back, Dean looked crushed.
‘I have to take care of a delivery but give me an hour and I’ll arrange a bar meal for you. Shall I bring it up here or do you want to come down to the bar? Don’t worry, I just saw the boss man leave.’ His tone was overly bright and breezy, making Isla feel bad.
She knew he was developing feelings for her and he seemed to bounce back from her gentle rebuttals quickly enough but it didn’t make her feel any better. Especially since, apart from his flirtation behind the bar, which she knew was part of his job, he was exactly the type she’d go for. He was kind, caring, funny and she felt relaxed around him. Yet I’m fucking Xander . . . not Dean! Images of the night before shot into her mind, making her squirm in her seat. Her tender, used pussy made its objection clear and she suddenly felt very hot and flustered.
Whoa! Where did that come from?
‘I’ll pop down to the bar in an hour,’ she said hurriedly. ‘Go and see to your delivery and I’ll finish up here.’
He smiled. ‘Okay, see you then.’ He made to walk off and then stopped. ‘Are you okay, Isla? You’re awfully flushed. Do you feel unwell?’
‘I’m fine,’ she snapped and then regretted it. She continued in a friendlier tone, ‘I’ve been dashing around all morning, that’s all. I’m not as fit as I should be.’
Dean’s face lit up. ‘You should come to the gym with me. I’d show you the ropes.’
She smiled but shook her head. ‘I’m just too busy, Dean, and our working patterns would make that almost impossible. Thanks for the invitation though.’
He nodded, clearly disappointed. ‘Okay, see you later.’
Five minutes later he was back with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice in his hand. ‘Here, drink this. It’s better for you than all the coffee you pour down your throat.’
‘Oh Dean, thank you. That’s so kind of you. You’re such a sweetheart.’ She was touched by his thoughtfulness but she was also suffering the effects of the night before, and not just the alcohol, making her very thirsty.
‘Yeah well, I know you’d work away rather than going and getting a drink – and if you did, it would be coffee.’
‘You know me so well,’ she replied.
‘I’d like to know you better,’ he said softly. As soon as the words fell from his lips, he looked embarrassed and awkward. Isla assumed that he hadn’t intended those words to be spoken aloud. He spared her the need to formulate an appropriate response by shooting out of the door, jabbering something about the delivery.
As she sipped the delicious orange juice, she realised that she no longer felt temptation where Dean was concerned. She wondered why and then Xander’s face appeared in her mind. She frowned but then figured it was probably for the best. Dean was the relationship type and that’s the last thing she wanted. Xander wasn’t – she didn’t know how she knew that, she just did. And Dean wouldn’t fuck like Xander! He wouldn’t make me come like Xander did. She was shocked at the revelation but knew it was true. Suddenly, she hoped fervently that Xander hadn’t cast her aside, not yet. She wanted more of what he had to give: raw, animalistic sex. He’d awakened her body like no man ever had and it was a depressing thought when she began to wonder whether any other man ever could.
She completed the shift rota for the following month, and attempted to prepare the monthly payroll bank transfers and then realised she couldn’t. She didn’t have the new bank account details to pay them with. She rattled off an email to Xander so she wouldn’t forget. The last thing she needed was a backlash from the staff if they didn’t get paid on time. And I’d be up shit creek without a paddle if I was paid late.
She made her way down to the bar and found Dean waiting for her with a hot brie and bacon baguette and a side salad. ‘Oh wow, Dean. Just the aroma is making my taste buds do somersaults. You didn’t have to do this.’
‘I know, but I wanted to. Like I say, you need looking after.’
She perched on a barstool and bit into the baguette. It was mouth-wateringly good. Without thinking she quipped, ‘If you’re going to feed me like this, you can look after me anytime.’ As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she cringed inwardly.
Dean leaned over the bar, his face the image of sincerity and longing as he whispered, ‘Just say the word, Isla. I’d look after you every day if you’d let me in.’
The sound of someone clearing their throat in an exaggerated fashion made them both turn their heads, although Isla knew who it would be.
Xander stood just inside the doorway radiating such menacing power that Dean looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.
‘Miss Hamilton, I need you. Now. Mr Rogers, do I pay you to work or come on to my staff?’ His tone was brutal.
Isla closed her eyes and forced down the remaining food in her mouth, hoping that she didn’t choke. When she opened them again, Xander was gone. She could just hear his footsteps crossing the lobby.
‘Who the fuck does he think he is?’ Dean almost growled. Isla had never seen him so angry.
She shrugged. ‘He’s the boss.’ I need you. Now. His words echoed inside her head. What does he need me for?
She got up from her barstool. ‘Thank you again, Dean. I’m sorry I can’t finish the baguette, especially since it’s gorgeous but I’d better get back.’ She took another large bite before setting the baguette aside.
He thrust his hand through his hair. ‘Yeah, I guess you’d better. Catch you later, Isla.’ His voice showed how much he was still irritated by Xander’s rude interruption.
Chapter Six
When she walked into reception, she found Belinda, Nadine and Derek all staring at her. Oh great. They all heard Xander’s cutting remark and now they’ll all be gossiping about Dean coming on to me. Poor Dean!
She pointedly ignored them all as the crossed the lobby. She went straight to Xander’s office and banged on his door.
It flew open and he grabbed her, dragged her into the room, and slammed the door shut. She heard the click of a lock as he shoved her against the wall and crushed his lips to hers. It was more of an onslaught than a kiss and left her shaken and breathless.
�
��I told you I needed you now. What the fuck took you so long?’ he growled into her mouth as his hand slid up her thigh and under her knickers.
‘I came straightaway,’ she panted.
‘Oh you will . . .’ he rasped.
He half dragged and half propelled her across the room, then pushed her face down on to his desk, sending papers flying in all directions.
‘Pull your dress up and your knickers down, I’m going to give that slutty pussy what it wants,’ he ordered as he unfastened his belt and trousers.
She found herself obeying even as she whispered, ‘What if someone comes in?’
He laughed. ‘The only one coming in is me. Coming in your delectable cunt. The doors are locked.’
She felt the head of his cock against her arse cheek. It felt wrong, to be dressed and bent over her boss’s desk as he stood there with his cock sticking out of his fly. She remembered what he’d said the night before. No, not wrong . . . naughty . . . dirty . . . exhilarating!
‘Keep your legs together, I want that whorish pussy as tight as you can get it. I want you to feel every inch of my cock as it pushes into you.’
‘You will anyway without any foreplay. It’ll be too dry. It’s too tender,’ she muttered. Not to mention painful.
He laughed, mocking her. ‘Your dirty little hole is betraying you, Red. Don’t think, just feel. I doubt you’re dry at all. In fact, I know you won’t be . . . feeling the effects of last night will make you constantly wet today. Now put your feet together.’
She slid her feet together and, without warning, he plunged into her and she did indeed feel his entire length pushing its way inside. She cried out at the force and sensation of it.
‘Shush, you noisy little slut or I’ll shove your knickers in your mouth!’
Isla’s eyes were like saucers as she contemplated his threat. Surely he wouldn’t. Oh yes, he fucking would!
She felt him begin to pull out slowly and found her pussy clenching around him when he’d almost withdrawn. It was as if her pussy didn’t want to lose him. She needn’t have worried. Slam! He ploughed into her once more. ‘You’re fucking soaked, you cock hungry slut, fortunately for you since I’ve had a bastard of a morning. But emptying my balls into you is going to make it a whole lot better. Although don’t bank on it being over quickly. Unlike you, I can delay my climax for quite a while. So grab hold of the desk and prepare to be fucked into oblivion, my dirty, gorgeous slut.’
My . . . he said my! And she supposed she was his slut. Nothing more, nothing less and, right at that moment, that suited her just fine.
He thrust deep and fast and somehow managed to alter his direction every few strokes so that she felt stretched beyond anything she could’ve imagined. Her pussy clenched around him on every thrust. She pictured how they’d look to a bystander and found that the image turned her on, even more than she already was.
She longed to touch him, to play a more active part, but there was nothing she could do but feel. Her breasts felt heavy and desperate for release from the confines of her bra, although she could feel her erect nipples rubbing against the lace as she slid back and forth across the desk. She could feel his balls bumping against the top of her slit, delighting her clitoris, and she could hear them slap, slap, slapping, even over their ragged breathing.
But most of all, she could feel the sensation of needing to pee along with a gnawing pressure in the bottom of her stomach. She was going to come. She couldn’t hold back her long, guttural moan as she headed for the abyss. Vaguely, she felt pain in the skin covering her hips as he gripped her with his claw like fingers and began to buck into her like a goddamn machine.
It was too much! ‘Argh stop!’ she cried. ‘I can’t take it.’
‘Shush your dirty mouth. You can take it and you will take it. Come, Red. Come!’
‘Fuck! Fuck! Oh fuuuuuck!’ she cried as she sailed over the edge and succumbed to the orgasm that shook her like a ragdoll and still he pumped into her, showing no mercy; in fact, if anything, he upped the pace.
No sooner had she come back down with a bump than she felt herself beginning to build all over again. What the fuck is he, a Duracell bunny?
‘Feel your whore of a pussy gripping my cock. It can’t get enough, can it?’
She ignored him and concentrated on trying not to hold her breath as her body began to twitch in recognition of the impending orgasm.
‘Can it?’ he repeated, louder this time.
‘No,’ she blurted.
‘Say it,’ he grunted.
‘Say what?’
‘Say my pussy can’t get enough of your cock!’
‘Ahhhh,’ she panted as she neared release. ‘My. Pussy. Can’t. Get. Enough. Of. Your. Coooocccckkkk!’ Her back arched as her orgasm struck but he pushed her down flat.
‘Your pussy is a fucking greedy whore!’ he roared as he slammed into her like a man possessed.
His rapid thrusts maintained her orgasm until he finally grunted and cursed as he pushed into her more slowly several times. She felt his thick cock pulsing inside her until he finally, slowly, withdrew it.
She just lay there, utterly spent and totally boneless. She let go of the edges of the desk and found that her fingers were stiff and the desk had dug into the palms of her hands leaving angry, red lines. She flexed her fingers to encourage the blood flow to return to normal as she struggled to regulate her breathing.
She faintly heard him fastening his zipper and re-buckling his belt. ‘Look at the state of you, shamelessly draped over my desk with come dripping from your pussy. You’re a wanton hussy . . . a cock-hungry tease.’
She lifted her head and joked, ‘So clean me up, you sex-craved deviant!’
Expecting him to either dismiss her joke or pass her some tissues, she was shocked when he sank to his knees and began to eat her in his unique animalistic fashion. She didn’t know whether it was the words she’d used, her audacity, or whether he liked the taste of their joint come
He roughly pushed her legs apart to facilitate his access, then rubbed her clit with his fingers. She sprang up from the desk when he flicked it hard with the end of his finger, crying out for him not to be mean and that it was tender. He just laughed into her slick, sticky folds.
His office phone rang; he ignored it. His mobile rang and he ignored that too. Clearly he was a man on a mission. He licked, he sucked, he nibbled, and he rubbed his face against her pussy as he moaned into her. Then he began to slide his face back and forth . . . faster and faster . . . until she braced herself for yet another climax. Her whole body shook as it wove its destructive path through her very being and only then did he stop.
He sank down on to his heels as he gasped for breath. She couldn’t move. She just lay there and remembered his words from the night before. He was right; sex with him was intense, he did fuck like a wild animal, and it did seem at times as though he were being selfish, that it was all about his satisfaction; but her body knew better. She experienced just as much pleasure as he, perhaps more, and if talking to her in that foul-mouthed way turned him on, then she wasn’t going to argue, not when she was the one receiving the mind-blowing onslaught that ensued. Besides which, she was beginning to find it a turn on herself, now that she was getting used to it.
‘Are you okay, Red?’
She nodded, suddenly feeling sleepy. ‘Sex with you is tiring. I wish we were in your bed.’
He chuckled. ‘I wish we were too. And we’ll be there again soon. I can’t spend tonight with you, God knows I’d love to. If fact, most nights I won’t. But you’re a siren, Red. And I’ll be buried inside you as often as time allows. But this is just about sex, we’re clear on that, yes?’
Isla nodded. She hadn’t even thought of spending the night with him, but knowing she couldn’t made her feel oddly disappointed. She pictured herself in her flat, alone, as she usually was during the evenings. She’d felt increasingly lonely of late, and now she really didn’t relish the prospect of going home al
one later. Her pussy wasn’t in need of attention – God knew it was more than sated – but, she realised with a start, from now on her evenings spent home alone would be more depressing than ever.
It’s the flattery you’ll miss. He desires you and he’s not afraid to show it. It’s been too long since you’ve felt desirable. You’ve felt unworthy of attention for the last few months. That’s all this is . . . you don’t want to go back to how you felt before after that bastard smashed your heart into smithereens and walked away without a backward glance. You crave being desired . . .
The phone rang again and Xander answered it. Isla couldn’t help but overhear from her position on the desk. It was the solicitor’s office again. She didn’t want to overhear anything she shouldn’t so she stood upright and gave him some privacy as she pulled up her knickers and smoothed down her dress.
‘That’s fucking impossible!’ he snapped suddenly, making her jump. ‘How the hell am I supposed to do that? I strongly suggest you think of some other way – and make it fast or I’ll be looking for another lawyer!’
He slammed the phone down, sank into his chair and raked his fingers through his hair.
Isla almost asked him if everything was okay, but then figured that would be stupid since it obviously wasn’t. She felt like an intruder but she didn’t want to walk out without a word.
‘Xander? Is there anything I can do to help, even if that means just leaving you alone?’
He looked up and for a second looked like a man on the edge as desperation marred his features. ‘You don’t want to know how much I want to bury myself inside you once again. Lately, that’s the only place I want to be . . . the only place that makes sense. I can lose myself in you and forget everything except feeling your body respond to me. Giving you pleasure until you come again and again is all I can think of. Feeling you clamp down on me, wanting me . . . needing me. You don’t know how much I need that right now.’