by Jagger Cole
I smile. Two can play this petty game. I bring my hand up. Everyone in the room is looking at her, not me. I smirk at her and bring my fingers back to my mouth. From her blush, I can tell she understands which fingers they are.
I try and go about my day. I try not to think about her. I try not to remember every detail of last night. But it’s pointless. And specifically, I’m thinking about our decision: panties means these dangerous and stupid games are over. None says we’re going to keep playing. But it’s not like I could’ve lifted her skirt up and checked during the meeting.
The day goes on. I don’t hear a single peep from or see a single glimpse of Delphine. She’s a ghost. And it’s making it goddamn impossible for me to get shit done. I drum my fingers on my desk. I pace my office. I contemplate having a drink or four. Hell, I contemplate jerking off to calm my fucking nerves.
I’m trying not to think about her. But that’s like saying don’t think about bar-be-que when you’re on fire.
I slump into a chair by the window of my office. I scowl and grind my teeth. I mean, shit, what did I think would happen? That at some point, she’d walk in here and pull her skirt up? Bend over my desk for me?
I frown. She’s not that girl. She’s not the throw herself at the rich guy and say all the right lines type. She’s the book nerd. She’s the back talking little genius with the resume of someone ten years older. The women who throw themselves at me all over this fucking city are champagne in a crystal flute. Delphine is scotch on the rocks—smokey, complex, a little gritty, and not bending over backwards to please.
The problem is, I don’t want fucking champagne. I want the scotch.
Wanting her is making it impossible to work. Being hard as a steel beam in my fucking pants only makes it worse.
Finally, at the end of the day. Alicia buzzes in from outside my office.
“What,” I grunt. This is more than my usual bag of hammers charm. The Delphine situation is making me even more of an intolerable fuck to be around. But I don’t care. Luckily, Alicia’s a pro at letting it roll off her back.
“Ms. Laurent is here for you, sir?”
“Get her in here,” I hiss. “Now.”
I stand. Then I sit. I stand again and scowl as I stomp over to the bar cart. But then I stomp right back and take a seat behind my desk again. I glare at the door. Finally, it opens, and Delphine strolls in.
“Well?” I snap.
She smiles. Goddamnit. I’d never describe myself as “smooth”. But “finessed” might be a good word. She’s wrecking that, though. And I think she’s enjoying knowing that she is.
“You’re not very patient.” She's smiling. Yep, she’s enjoying this.
I scowl. “I can be. Just not right now.”
“Clearly.”
I clear my throat. I resist the urge to stand. I resist the urge to do a lot more than that when she walks up the stairs to my desk. My eyes drink her in. Something’s different from when I saw her in the presentation earlier. Then I see it. Two buttons undone on her blouse. Her skirt is a tiny bit higher than it was earlier. Her hair is down. I growl.
She’s trying to tease me. Or provoke me. Or she’s not “trying” to do shit, but it’s still having the same effect.
She comes to a stop in front of my desk. She’s smirking at me, and I growl.
“Well?” I mutter.
Delphine runs her tongue over her teeth. She crosses her arms over her chest and cocks a hip.
“I’m not going to fuck you.”
I scowl, but only briefly. Well there’s my answer. Last night was a mistake. We both know it, and this is the clarity I need before it blows up in my face.
“Fine.” I nod stiffly. I shove a pen and a legal pad across the desk. “Write a number down. It’s yours, and we’ll move past this.” I shrug. “End of exchange. I’m your boss, you’re my employee. You do your job, I’ll do mine. That’s it.” I clench my jaw. “That work for you?” I mutter.
Delphine just smiles coyly at me. She looks like a cat who’s got a mouse under her paw.
“Yes?”
“I wasn’t finished, Barrett”
I sigh and sink back in my chair. “Then please go on.” Then I frown. “And just so we’re clear, you’re my employee. It’s Mr. King, or sir.”
Delphine rolls her eyes. Then she takes a breath. “I’m not going to be screwing my boss. But…”
She blushes deeply. My cock is hard instantly. I sit up and harden my gaze on her.
“But?”
“But….” She shifts her weight to her other hip nervously.
“But there are other items still on the menu.”
Her blush darkens deeply. I groan, because I know I’ve just nailed it.
“Yes,” Delphine whispers.
I growl quietly.
“Also, I’m not going to be your arm candy.”
“Excuse me?”
She blushes again. “I’m not going to be paraded around as your little paramour. It would destroy any chance I have at a career, being publicly linked to you.”
I nod. “Because I’m your boss.”
“Yeah, that and because you’re an asshole.”
My temper flares. But when she just smirks back at me, that anger turns into fierce desire. But also, frustration. I groan. Fuck, this isn’t how I saw this playing out. I just wanted her to be mine. But I don’t do games. I don’t jump through hoops. And I sure as hell don’t make concessions on deals. This is looking to be all three of those things.
“And I’m not at your beck and call, either. There’ll be no calling me up at any old hour looking for me to come over. No random—”
“I get it, Delphine,” I growl. Then I sigh and shake my head. “Look, maybe this was a mistake—”
“I’m still not done.”
I roll my eyes and sit back in my chair. “Then what?” I snap. I’m not really angry. It’s more frustration. It’s my lust for her being denied. Hell, it’s being denied at all. Denial is not a response I’m very used to anymore.
“What other conditions?” I grunt. “Any more rules? Clauses? Fucking amendments or addendum? Will there be a fucking committee involved?”
She just smirks at me.
“Yes?” I growl. “What else would you like to say?”
“To say?” Her smirk widens. “Nothing.” She reaches into her purse. Suddenly, she’s dropping something on my desk. It takes me a second to realize it’s a lacy black thong.
My cock thickens. My lust roars like an animal. I slowly look up at her. Delphine is blushing deeply, biting her lip.
“Nothing else to say,” she whispers. “Just that.” She turns on her heel. “See you tomorrow, sir.”
She takes her damn time walking back across my office. Her ass sways temptingly, and my cock tries to punch a hole through the bottom of my desk.
Game on.
9
Delphine
Three days ago, the most daring thing I’d ever done in my life was singing a Spice Girls song at karaoke in front of about ten strangers.
Today, I’m walking into work at one of the most impressive hedge funds in the world, run by one of the most ruthless, savage men in finance. And I’m not wearing panties. Because he told me not to.
The other way to phrase that is that I’m playing with fire. I’m playing with the devil himself actually. But I like the heat. Actually, I’m almost scared at how much I like the heat. I like the way he looks at me—hungry, savagely. I like the way he demands of me. And those demands aren’t so much him being a bossy asshole. It feels more like it’s him barely holding back from just taking me. Which is very, very hot.
And when he growls like that? Oof, my God.
I take the elevator up to the second floor from the top. That’s my floor. Most of the conference rooms, executive offices, and Barrett’s own throne room office is up one floor at the top. I step off the elevator, past the reception desk, and through the halls to my own office.
I make
it halfway there before I see him. He’s in a glass-walled meeting room with Helen and a few other higher ups. But when he sees me, his eyes instantly snap up to me. They harden and blaze with heat.
I tremble and keep walking, determined not to look back. But then, I crack. I glance at him. In one second, I know that he knows. He knows I’m not wearing anything under my pencil skirt. He knows it from my blushing smirk. And I know he knows from his hungry, savage look.
Ten minutes later, sitting at my desk, my phone rings.
“I need to see you.”
Fucking hell, that growl. I simmer with heat. I squirm in my chair. It’s like his voice touches me somehow. Instantly, I’m turned on. Without panties, this is going to present a problem.
I swallow. “I’m very busy right now,” I say flippantly. I grin when I hear him growling through the phone.
“And I’m your boss,” Barrett snarls. God that growly voice makes me wet. “So get in here.”
I squeeze my thighs together. I blush and chew on my lip. “Is it for work?”
“What else would it be for?” He grunts.
I blush. “You tell me.”
Barrett growls again. “No, it’s not.”
“Then what’s it for?” I push him. I know I’m goading him. I know that’s like toying with a lion. But I like the thrill of it.
“Fine,” he snaps. “It’s for you to bend over my desk so I can shove that skirt up and run my tongue from your clit to your asshole until you come for me.”
He says it completely deadpan, like he’s ordering a sandwich. And I am soaked.
My breath quivers. “I—”
“Now, Delphine,” he mutters.
“I…I can’t.”
I can almost feel the snarl through the phone. “Excuse me?”
“I can’t,” I whisper. “I really have a ton of work to do.”
“That’s unacceptable,” he grunts.
I giggle. “Are you going to fire me for doing work instead of letting you go down on me?”
“It’s crossed my mind.”
I blush.
“You’re not, are you.”
“Not what?”
“Wearing anything under that fucking skirt.”
I simmer. Heat throbs in my core. “Maybe not.”
“Show me,” he snarls.
I bite my lip. “I told you, I have work….”
“Send me a picture.”
I blush deeply. “Barrett, I’m not…”
“Yes, you are,” he growls. “Show me, Delphine. And it’s Mr. King or sir.”
He hangs up abruptly. I’m left trembling with heat and dripping wet.
I glance down, then up at the glass walls of my office. I look back down at my lap beneath the desk. I roll my eyes at myself. I’m not seriously thinking of doing this, am I? It’s insane. And yet, I’m reaching for my phone. I blush deeply and slide the phone under the desk.
What the fuck am I doing? But I know what I’m doing. I’m spreading my legs. I push the camera button on my phone. I hear the fake shutter click and see the flash light up under the desk. I blush deeply.
I yank the phone up and glance at it. My eyes bug out and I blush hotly. Yep, that’s my vagina. I grin through the embarrassed blush. Okay, actually it’s not bad. But I’m definitely not sending a first attempt.
I quickly snap a few more. They’re also not bad, but it’s not perfect. I mean, if you’re going to be sending your boss Penthouse shots of your pussy, you kind of want her looking her best, right?
I reach over by the phone on my desk. There’s a button to lower the privacy blinds on the glass office walls. I punch it. The shades come down. My pulse races. I spring to my feet and dart over to lock the door. Then I’m back in my chair, leaning back, and spreading my legs.
I angle my desk lamp just right. I take a few more shots, reposition the light, and then take some more. And then finally, I’m satisfied with a shot that looks just right. It’s like I’m the Annie Leibovitz of pussy pictures right now.
I tweak the levels on the picture a few times. Then, before I can chicken out, I send it.
My phone rings maybe half a second later.
“Get in here,” Barrett snarls. “Right fucking now.”
I blush with heat and desire. “I’m busy—”
“Get the fuck up here and into my office or I’m coming for you.”
I tremble. “Barrett, I am very busy—”
The line clicks off. I stare at my phone. “Um, okay,” I mutter to myself. Whatever, just Barrett being his usual bossy dick self. My boss, the grumpy asshole. Bosshole, I think with a giggle. I angle my lamp back onto my work. I leave the shades up though. Glass walls are cool, but having privacy is pretty great too.
I’m one paragraph into the acquisitions report in front of me when my office doorknob suddenly rattles hard. I hear a muffled swear. A fist pounds on the door. Shit, I left it locked. Not exactly professional to be locking myself in my office during work. It’s also not exactly professional to be sending nudes to your boss. So, I guess I’m on a roll today.
I spring from my chair and rush over to open it. The second I unlock it, it slams open, and Barrett himself comes barreling in like a storm. He looks furious. But he also looks hungry, and maybe a little crazed.
“Barrett,” I breath. I back away, my pulse racing. “What…”
He kicks the door shut. His eyes never blink or leave mine as he reaches back to lock it. He strides for me. I gasp and back up until my ass hits the edge of my desk. But he doesn’t stop or even slow. He grabs me with his powerful hands. They grip my hips and pin me to the desk. He looms over me and looks down into my eyes.
“Don’t you ever deny me again,” he growls. His mouth crushes to mine. His kiss is powerful and bruising. It’s demanding, and I moan as I open my lips for him. He grinds into me, kissing me hard. I whimper when he pulls away suddenly. He spins me around, and I gasp when he pushes me across my own desk, bent at the waist.
“Wait, Barrett…!”
But he doesn’t wait. He drops to his knees behind me. His hands skim down my thighs and grab the hem of my skirt. Before I can say a thing, he yanks my skirt up high over my bare ass.
“Fuck, Delphine,” he growls thickly.
I blush deeply. I hold my breath. I swear can feel his powerful gaze moving over me. I can feel the heat of his desire burning my skin. I tremble and gasp. I feel him move closer. And suddenly, I feel his mouth on me.
Pleasure floods my body. I moan deeply against the wood of my desk. My fingers curl around the other side of it, and I cling to it. Barrett’s big hands grip my ass and spread me open. He pulls me back against his mouth. His tongue drags slowly through my pussy lips. The tip dances over my clit, making me moan loudly.
Too loudly. I quickly clamp a hand over my mouth. I moan into my palm when Barrett’s tongue slides deep into me. He drags it up and down my lips. He moves it higher until it teases my ass. My eyes widen at the new pleasure. He snarls against my skin. His mouth centers on my pussy again, and his tongue is relentless.
It feels like he’s devouring me. I moan into my hand. I grip my desk with white knuckles. My legs shake, and I swear it feels like my pussy is dripping down my thighs. Barrett growls against me. He sucks my clit and dances his tongue over it mercilessly. With a cry, I can’t hold back.
“Barrett!”
I scream into my hand when I come. My body trembles and wrenches under his mouth. His grip tightens, pinning me to the desk. His tongue doesn’t stop until it feels like my legs are going to give out.
I’m still shaking when he stands. I take deep, trembling breathes. I slowly stand on wobbly feet and turn to him. Instantly, he scoops me against him. He kisses me deeply, letting me taste myself on his lips. He pulls away, leaving me breathless.
“Now that we’re playing this game,” he growls. “Don’t you ever deny me again.”
I moan softly. The demanding tone and the bossy attitude should piss me off. But
instead, it makes me crave him.
“And don’t you ever wear panties in this office again.”
I blush. “And if I do?”
“Then I’ll cut them off.”
I tremble. “Is that a threat?”
“A promise.” He straightens his tie. I blush when I watch him lick his lips slowly. “I have a meeting.”
I glance at the clock and gasps. “Shit, me too.”
When I look back at Barrett, he’s eyeing me with a hard, hungry gaze. “I’m not through with you by a fucking mile though,” he growls. “Just so we’re clear.”
I simmer. My skin tingles. Barrett’s eyes burn into me. Then he turns and steps out of my office, closing the door behind him. I breath out slowly. Shaking, I lean back on my desk and hold onto it tightly.
Okay, what exactly just happened?
My body tingles. My core throbs with heat. But shit, I really do have a meeting to get to. I quickly gather my things and run out. I’m still shaking when I get off the elevator. My feet are unsteady when I walk down the hall into the conference room.
Most of the people involved are already there. Helen glances up at me and smiles. Then she frowns with what looks like concern.
“Delphine, are you okay?”
I freeze. “Um, yes?”
“Are you sure?” She peers at me. “You look flushed.”
I’m flushed because my boss just went down on me and made me come like fucking crazy about two minutes ago. I smile weakly at her.
“Oh, just lots of balls up in the air!”
She smiles knowingly and steps closer. “Is it Mr. King?”
I pale instantly. “What?” I gasp. Does she freaking know?
“Look, don’t let him get under your skin,” she says quietly. She looks at me sympathetically.
Too late. Barrett is already under my skin. And under my skirt, apparently.
“Anyways, shall we start the meeting?”
I smile weakly through the post-orgasmic blush on my face. “Sure.”
I really, really wish I was wearing panties though. Because I’ve still got Barrett on the brain. And I’m still literally dripping wet for him.