by JB Brooks
Matt had been watching for me in the video, and he reached over and took my hand, obviously coming to the same conclusion, trying to comfort me.
Now there were candid shots of Stephen and the Web Marketing sales team hearing the news that they were the top performing division of the year. Delighted laughter rang out at the close-ups of their overjoyed reactions and a short clip of them cavorting around the conference table. I knew that I’d been there, just off the screen to the right, but much as I willed it the camera didn’t pan that far, and a new scene faded in, of the HR people bringing the awards that were to be handed out tonight and arranging them next to the podium. It must have been filmed this morning. The screen went dark.
It was over. I stared down at the table, feeling the smothering weight of my invisibility afresh. I thought things had changed, but really, it had only been five days. What did I expect?
But the music didn’t stop. It swelled to a crescendo, and my eyes were drawn to the screen again. To my disbelief, I saw myself—Matt and me arriving in the Ballroom, holding hands, crossing over to our table, stopping to talk to people who reached out to me. Someone had been filming the people arriving! Then there we were again, talking to James Jameson, shaking hands, looking like celebrities.
The music ended, the lights came up and applause broke out around the room. Matt was still holding my hand and looking at me closely. I closed my eyes for a second then looked back and smiled. The new Jane had made it.
I felt euphoric. Hors d’oeuvres were served, smoked salmon on a delicate shredded salad with a creamy mayonnaise sauce. It was delicious and I was hungry. We made small talk around the table and had another round of drinks. Then the dinner buffet was opened, a lavish spread with roast beef, mutton, pork and turkey, and a multitude of side dishes and accoutrements. I stood in the short queue with Matt behind me, waiting to serve myself. He stepped up close behind me, placed his hands on my hips and pulled me back to lean against him. I relaxed against his warmth, both aroused and reassured by his proximity. Between our bodies, hidden from view, his hand edged down to my ass, cupping, kneading, rubbing the soft fabric of my dress over the bare skin beneath.
“It’s killing me, you know,” he rasped, close to my ear. “Making small talk. Acting civilized. When all I want to do is get into you.” His whisper was hardly recognizable, raw with lust, and I responded to his desire as I always did—wanting to please him, appease him, knowing that in slaking his hunger, I would be slaking my own. My pussy clenched around emptiness, moisture throbbing from me.
“When, Matt? How much longer?”
“Still a while.” He withdrew his hand and stepped away slightly. “Anticipation is the best kind of foreplay, Jane. You must be very wet by now.”
I groaned softly and gritted my teeth, glancing back at him. In spite of his heated words, he looked cool and in control, his face expressionless. Nobody would ever guess the appetites that surged beneath his civilized exterior.
The meal was enjoyable and the talk around the table was lively. I was grateful for the distraction from my arousal. My pussy was wet, and I was acutely aware of the friction of my naked nether lips whenever I moved in my chair. I suspected that my clit was distended from my prolonged excitement and was protruding slightly from my labia, excruciatingly sensitive and vulnerable to chafing.
It was announced that the speeches and presentation of awards would be made after the meal, before dessert was served. A chorus of good-natured, rather tipsy, protestations broke out. I excused myself from the table and made my way to the ladies’ bathroom, thinking that I’d better have a pee, in case the speeches went on for ages. I wasn’t the only one with that idea, and there was a bit of a queue, but there were ten toilet cubicles so I didn’t have to wait long—I didn’t want to walk back to the table after the speeches had started. I washed my hands, noticing that the bathroom had emptied quickly, and rushed out, almost colliding with Scott.
Strange. The entrance to the men’s bathroom was directly opposite ours, but he didn’t look as if he’d just come out—more as if he’d been waiting outside.
“Hello, Jane,” he said, stepping into my path, blocking the narrow corridor that led back to the foyer.
“Scott! Come on, let’s get back quickly. The speeches are about to start.”
“Not so fast, girly.” He gripped my arm. “I have a proposition for you.”
“Back off, Scott,” I said sharply, trying to shake his hand off. Something about the way he was looking at me and standing so close gave me a fright.
“You’re looking hot tonight, Jane. Hot enough to fuck. I never noticed what a tight little body you’ve got, but that dress…”
His hot breath wafted over me and I shrank back from the smell of liquor and cigarettes.
“Me and Vanessa, we want you and your boyfriend to come home with us. A little four-way fuck-fest. What ya think, Jane? You ever done two guys at once? Once you been fucked like that, one’s never enough. Vanessa’s always hot for it, and she likes the biggest dick up her ass.”
I stared at him in horror. “You must be mad! Let go of me!”
“Aw, is that a no, baby? You shouldn’t say no to Scott. But never mind—Vanessa’s having a little chat with Matt right now. He’s been checking her out all night. He’ll want in, all right, and then you’ll have to spread it for all of us.”
“Matt won’t… He’d never…”
But even as I stammered out a protest I faltered. Did I know Matt well enough to be sure that he wouldn’t be into something like that? He was pretty way out, sexually. Maybe he’d think it was a good idea for me to lose my virginity in a foursome. And according to those blogs I’d read on the internet, some Doms shared their subs as a matter of routine. An ice-block of fear settled in the pit of my stomach. Scott saw my uncertainty and grinned down at me, his usually handsome face twisted into an ugly leer.
“Oh yeah, baby. You know he’s gonna want it. Then your sweet ass is mine, and I’m gonna make you scream.”
“If he wants it then he can go with you,” I hissed. “I sure as hell won’t!”
Scott laughed in my face. “He owns you, baby, you think I can’t see that? If he says you’re doing it, then you’re doing it. Not if—when! Now let’s go—”
At that moment, loud, hurried footsteps came down the corridor. Scott let go of me and jumped back just as a heavily built woman came round the corner, heading for the ladies’ bathroom. I darted through the door in front of her and rushed to a toilet cubicle, locking myself in. My hands were shaking and I was almost in tears. I needed a moment to think.
Shit, shit, shit!
Bloody Scott! I’d always known he was an asshole.
I sat down on the closed toilet and tried to figure out what to do. For starters, I couldn’t leave the bathroom until I knew for certain that Scott had gone. But then what?
I heard the other woman flush the toilet and start washing her hands. Should I go out when she left? But was it safe to go find Matt or would he be waiting to drag me off to a foursome with creepy Scott and Vanessa? I’d scream blue murder in front of everybody before allowing that to happen, and then, of course, it would be the end of me and Matt. My eyes filled with tears and I blinked frantically to stop them.
It’s just shock. You had a bad shock.
It’s nothing to do with Matt, don’t worry.
The door swung shut behind the other woman and I was alone in the bathroom.
I stayed in my cubicle until I had my tears under control, but before I could unlock the door somebody else came in from the corridor.
“Jane, are you in here?” It was Lauren. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m here.” I stepped out. “What’s up?”
She looked at me through narrowed eyes. “I should be asking you that. Matt asked me to see if you were in here. He’s just outside and he’s worried about you.”
That sounded promising.
“Is he alone?”
Oh pl
ease don’t let him be with Scott!
“Yeah, it’s just him. Is everything okay with you guys?”
I nodded. I really hoped so.
“Well, that’s good, ’cause we’ve already had enough drama for one night at our table!”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, just about ten minutes ago Scott and Vanessa came back to our table. They were having a huge argument. I couldn’t make head or tail of it. And then they left.”
“They’ve gone?”
“Yeah, and it’s going to be quite a scandal—Scott was going to get an award, and now he won’t be there to go up and get it.”
“Oh thank god!” Obviously a foursome was not in the cards, and I was also relieved that I wouldn’t have to face Scott at our table again. Lauren looked astonished at my reaction.
“Lauren, Scott just propositioned me. That’s why I was hiding in the bathroom. And he manhandled my arm—look.” I showed her the red fingerprints that had not yet faded, where Scott had gripped just above my elbow. “I’m so glad he’s gone, I just didn’t know what to do!”
I didn’t tell her that Scott’s proposition had included Matt, or that most of my fear was because I didn’t know what Matt would do about it, but what I said was enough to make her rush over and put her arms around me.
“Oh no, Jane, I’m so sorry. That guy’s such a dick. I hope you’re going to complain to HR?”
“Yes, I bloody well am! It’s going to be the first thing I do on Monday morning. He scared me.”
“Good. That’s good. What a prick!” She rubbed my back comfortingly and I felt much better for having told her, even if wasn’t the whole story.
“Come, Jane. Let’s go out to Matt. I don’t know how he knew something was wrong, but he was really worried, and he must be wondering what’s going on.”
She kept her arm around me as we left the bathroom. Matt was in the corridor right outside, just where Scott had been waiting. I turned into his arms and he hugged me close.
“I’m going back to the table,” whispered Lauren, turning down the passage. “See you there.”
We didn’t move for a few minutes. I leaned into Matt, loving the feel of his strong arms and his wonderful smell all around me. At last he pulled me away enough to look down onto my face. His eyes were full of concern.
“Did he hurt you, Jane?”
“No. He just held on to my arm a bit tight, though he gave me a real scare. But how did you know what happened?”
“Vanessa cornered me at the bar and invited us home with them. I declined politely, but then she said that Scott had gone to ask you. She told me you’d always been hot for him, and he planned to give you a little taste of what they had in store for you. That’s when I got worried, because that asshole was drunk and I didn’t know what he’d do.” His cold words made me shiver. His face was expressionless but his eyes were like ice.
“I told her that the two of them better get the hell away or there’d be consequences. Then I went looking for you. I was across the foyer when Scott came out the passage to the bathrooms, but Vanessa got to him before I did and dragged him off. Then I asked Lauren to check the bathroom, and here we are.”
There was obviously a whole lot he wasn’t telling me, like what he could have threatened Scott and Vanessa with that made them leave in such a hurry.
“So you didn’t want a foursome?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No, Jane. I’m an only child. I don’t share well with others.” He said it lightly, but I sensed that he was serious. He kissed me gently.
“You’ve had quite a rough evening, Jane. Do you want to call everything off, and I’ll just take you home after the party?”
I was surprised, and touched, that he would offer to let me off our deal—he had been so uncompromising up to now. I considered his suggestion. It had been a rough night emotionally, and I sensed that I was on fragile ground where my feelings were concerned. But when I thought about going home without consummating what we’d been building up to all week, I felt nothing but disappointment. A crushing anticlimax.
“You know, Matt,” I said, looking up and meeting his gray-blue gaze, “I really don’t want to call it off. I’d be terribly disappointed if we did. Unless you want to, of course.”
I watched the transformation in his gaze as he looked at me, concern morphing into hunger, possessiveness and triumph. He had me and he knew it. It wasn’t about our deal. There were no obligations. This was a willing surrender. I wanted him.
I half expected him to do something right then and there, but he led me back to the party. Stephen was about to do his speech. Matt guided me around the perimeter of the room so we didn’t disrupt everybody, and we slid into our seats just as the lights dimmed. He positioned his chair close to mine and I sensed, as I always could with him, that his attention was focused on me with the peculiar intensity that signaled the start of his pursuit. My body stirred and tightened in response, preparing for the inevitable ending, although I didn’t know when or where it would be…just that it would be.
He cradled his drink in his hand, another scotch on the rocks, and his hard thigh pressed against mine. Slides moved across the screen unseen. My tension mounted.
When he finally touched me, I jumped even though I’d been waiting for it. Cold fingers skimmed up my thigh. I heard the clink of ice cubes as he put his drink down on the table. He pushed the fabric of my dress up, over the lacy cuffs of my stay-ups, and caressed the naked flesh above, his touch even colder without the thin barrier of nylon.
The faintest pressure was a command that I could not ignore, and I parted my thighs wide under the table, grateful for the long white tablecloth pooling in my lap.
With excruciating leisure, a single icy digit dipped into the top of my slit. The cold intrusion into the hottest part of my body was shocking. My eyes snapped shut as he inexorably dragged it along my clit, and I fought to keep silent. Aberrant thoughts flew into my head. A robotic hand was touching me. A thin implement of cold stainless steel was poised to probe me. I was shocked at myself, but my thighs strained wide under the table. Nobody was looking our way. All eyes were fixed on the speaker. I slid a little lower in my chair, tilting my pelvis, allowing him better access.
He parted my labia and glided his frigid finger into my core then swirled it and hooked it, agitating my inner walls. He removed it abruptly and slid another finger in, and so it went on, one finger after another, in and out. His hand warmed up quickly and I became drenched in my own juices.
“Put your hands on the table, Jane,” he whispered, and I looked down and saw that I was clutching his arm, urging him on. Somebody would see. I placed my hands palms down on the tablecloth.
I was dimly aware that the speeches were finished and they were presenting the awards for employee of the year and top salesperson of the year. Suddenly everyone was looking toward our table and I realized with horror that Scott was the top salesperson, and they were looking to see why he wasn’t going up to receive the award.
“Sit still,” Matt gritted. He picked up his drink casually with his left hand and took a sip. Under the table, his right hand held me spread, his middle finger deep inside me.
The moment seemed interminable but at last the speaker went on and the curious eyes left us. Matt slowly withdrew his hand.
“I think we can leave now,” he said softly a few moments later. He was wiping his hands on his linen napkin and I could see my juices shining on his fingers. “They’re serving the dessert and everybody’s getting up to queue. Say goodbye to Lauren and let’s go.”
I turned to Lauren, who was getting up to fetch dessert.
“Lauren, we’re going to say goodbye. I’m not feeling so great and Matt is going to take me home. We’re just going to slip out while everybody is getting dessert.”
“Oh sure! I understand. You don’t look too well. You’re very flushed and your eyes look a bit glassy.”
Yeah, that’s because Matt’s been fin
ger-fucking me for the last half hour.
“See you on Monday.”
“Yeah, see you. Try to get some rest.”
I retrieved my purse and Matt slung his jacket over his shoulder. He offered me his arm and led me out of the Ballroom to the elevator. To my surprise we didn’t go down to the parking garage, but up to the top floor.
“I thought we were going home?”
“I booked us a room here for the night.” He smiled. “I like hotel rooms. People always want to have sex at hotels.”
I laughed at him. “I don’t think I need extra incentive!”
“I know. My fingers are still sticky.” I blushed but he was smiling. “You’re going to like it, Jane. Now come here.” He kissed me deeply as the elevator carried us to the fortieth floor. When the doors slid open I realized that we were on the top level. The elevator opened into a glass-walled atrium, which at night was like an expanse of dark mirrors. In the day the view would be spectacular. There were very few doors around the atrium and it was obvious that Matt had booked a suite. He produced a keycard as we crossed the atrium to the left, to a door bearing the name Plaza Suite. The door beeped as he swiped the card, and I preceded him into a palatial sitting room, luxuriously furnished and carpeted.
“Good heavens, Matt, there’s a grand piano in here!”
“Yes, and do you play, Jane?”
“I could probably manage Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”
“Excellent! I think I know that one too. We’ll give it a shot later.”
I giggled. “Our neighbors will think we’re idiots!”
“Our neighbors won’t be able to hear a thing, Jane. These rooms are soundproof. You can scream your head off if you want to. In fact, I intend to make you do just that. Come look in here.”
He pulled me into the bedroom. Huge, over-the-top, it was plushly romantic. I gasped at the enormous vases of pale, fresh flowers that adorned every available space, and the white candles, dozens of them, long and thick, multiplied to hundreds by reflection in the mirrors on the walls. In the middle of the room on a raised platform was the bed, cream satin sheets gleaming in the glow of the candles.