His hands run under the hoodie and connect with my naked flesh and I groan as he tweaks my nipple, which begs him not to stop. Then he pushes me back against the cushion and says huskily, “If I had just one wish, I would be in that apartment with you right now, naked, on a rug in front of that fire, with the snow falling outside and the heat from the fire warming our skin. I would wish to be inside you, driving your pleasure, and I would wish that we never had to leave.”
My breath stills as he paints a picture so seductive it blows my mind. It makes me picture us there at this very moment and I whisper, “Soft music would be playing and there would be a sparkling Christmas tree casting shadows on our naked flesh.”
He interrupts, “I would cover your body in chocolate and lick it away.”
“I would cover you in squirty cream and rub my face in it.”
He laughs as I curse my own weird imagination and his hands run down my back, as he whispers, “I would worship your body all day long and wish for nothing else. We would spend the whole of Christmas together and just eat, sleep and fuck.”
“I would soap your body after in a tub the size of a hot tub.”
“There would be candles everywhere and the smell of baking.”
“Oh yes, bread, the scent of baking bread and wine, lots of lovely, lovely, wine.”
“Did I mention that I would fuck you in every position in the Kama Sutra?”
“Sounds like a plan, the only trouble is…”
“Is what?”
“I’m not that good a fairy, and all we have is an office and a hard couch. Not very romantic, is it?”
He pulls back and grins, making him look like a small boy on Christmas morning.
“I can be romantic.”
“Really?” I laugh softly. “Prove it.”
He smiles against my lips and whispers, “Wait there, I may be some time.”
I giggle as he pulls back and winks, before heading out of the office and I settle back with the coffee that is still nice and warm. That was surprising; something shifted, and the game changed. I wonder what he has in store?
10
Oliver
I have an idea, and it may just work. Sharing wishes with my Christmas fairy has sparked my imagination, and I’m on a mission. It’s strange that we’ve been so intimate, and yet I still don’t know her name. Possibly, I should have asked, but I quite like the mystery surrounding her. If I knew her name, shit would get real. I would be tempted to look up her details on the office computer. Stalk her online and find out everything about her that I possibly could without her knowing. This way, I get to enjoy something a little forbidden because in not knowing her name; it makes what I’m planning to do, ok.
I know just where I’m heading because it’s probably the only room in which I can pull this off. It’s not far and I head down the hallway to the boardroom. I’ve always been quite proud of my executive suite because as soon as I took over from my father, I re-modeled this room into my view of a boardroom. Where the rest of the building is modern, made up of chrome and steel, this one is old school. Rich wood paneling surrounds the large space, and the long oak table creates a more intimate atmosphere. Although it seats 12, it looks more fine dining than executive decisions and the fabric covered button back chairs are more luxurious than the usual office ones. The windows have motorized blinds that can be lowered because at the end on the wall is a giant television that I use for power point presentations and videos. As I flick the set on, I scroll through the screensavers until I find just what I’m looking for, and as the roaring fire bursts into life, I can almost imagine the heat from the flames.
One turn of the dimmer switch subdues the lighting and replaces the harsh glare of a place of business to a more seductive one.
Quickly, I go to work, rearranging the chairs so they create space and then I head to the board members’ staff room where they like to grab a quick lunch and relax in more comfort than the cafeteria downstairs provides.
Ripping the cushions off the couch, I head back inside and make a comfortable bed on the floor and wish like fuck I had thought of pillows and blankets. But then again, why would I provide those for my employees? I’m a workaholic myself and certainly wouldn’t encourage my staff to take a power nap during the day.
I’m quite pleased with my efforts so far and manage to find an easy listening channel on the television that provides soft Christmas songs to bring life to an otherwise dead space.
Stepping back, I look at it critically and know just what’s missing, so I head downstairs to see if I can find what I need.
Pushing open the door to the room where I know they had the party last night, the stench of stale alcohol hits me before the smell of uneaten pizza and take out. This place is a mess, with upturned chairs and discarded bottles, streamers and sheets of crumpled wrapping.
I wrinkle my nose in disgust when I see the half empty plastic cups littering the desks, and I shake my head at the chaos in a usually immaculate space. Obviously, they left in a hurry last night, probably due to the weather warning we most definitely didn’t get. A smile curves on my face as I remember what I was doing, and I wonder what she will think of my efforts.
Grabbing what I came here for, I head back to the boardroom and place them carefully all around, then make my way downstairs to the janitor’s cupboard. If I’m right, there should be some emergency candles in here and before long, I find a good stock with some matches.
Stopping in the cafeteria on the way, I rummage in the refrigerator and manage to pull out a few supplies and head back to create something that would rival anything my fairy could dream up.
As I place the finishing touches to a space set for seduction, my phone rings.
Grabbing it, I see my mom’s number flashing and I answer it anxiously.
“Hey, mom, is everything ok?”
“I should be asking you that, what happened, didn’t you think the weather warnings applied to you?”
“Never got any, I fell asleep on my couch and woke up in Narnia.”
She laughs softly. “Well, happy Christmas, anyway. I hope you’ve got some food there because by all accounts, this isn’t going anywhere fast.”
Thinking about the food I saw stuffed in the refrigerator, I say in relief. “It’s fine, all covered. Luckily, we still have a working cafeteria and haven’t resorted to vending machines yet, I could survive a month before I run out of supplies.”
“Hopefully, it won’t take that long. So, you got your Christmas wish, after all.”
My heart pounds as I wonder if somehow my mom is bugging my office, and she laughs in the awkward silence.
“Work, Oliver. You get to work on Christmas day. I can’t say I approve; I mean, everyone deserves at least one day off a year but you, well it’s not natural.”
The relief is overwhelming and I laugh softly, “Yes, it appears I will be hard at it all day.”
Picturing my delicious gift waiting to be unwrapped, I am as eager as a kid on Christmas morning, so I say quickly, “Listen, I’ll head home the minute I can. I’m so sorry about this, I know you had plans and well, what can I say, it was an act of God.”
“It’s fine, I’ll keep your gifts under the tree and put your meal in the refrigerator. You never know, you may make it back by Boxing Day.”
“How’s Tessie, is she ok?”
Mom’s voice softens. “Missing you, she doesn’t understand about weather restrictions and stuff.”
“I miss her. Make sure you give her a big kiss from me and one for yourself.”
“I will. Take care of yourself, honey, don’t work too hard and I love you.”
“I love you too, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault for once. Now, I need to go because that Turkey is begging for my attention.”
I groan out loud at the thought of the fabulous feast I am missing out on and mom laughs.
“Sorry, we’ll be thinking of you, at least Tessie will get extra, I suppose.�
�
“You and your extras, you’re such a temptress.”
Laughing, I blow a kiss down the phone and say softly, “I love you.”
“Me too, honey, hope to see you soon and take care of yourself and don’t use this as one big excuse to work.”
“I won’t, I’ll be home just as soon as I can.”
As I cut the call, I smile into the phone but that soon changes when I hear an incredulous, “What the actual fuck?”
11
Carla
Mr. Steele was gone so long, I got edgy and decided to head off and see if he needed my help. As I walked through the hallways of a place I never get a lift pass to, I began to see how the other half live.
Our offices are way more basic than these, and it resembles a fine hotel with superior desks and soft carpeting. Even the lighting is mellower and there is actual art on the walls and flourishing plants, rather than the near dead ones we torture on the floors below.
I hear him speaking and wonder if someone is here and I’m surprised by the huge of wave of disappointment that crashes through me. We’re not alone.
As I shamelessly listen through a crack in the door, I hear every word of a one-sided conversation I wish I had never heard.
Oliver is telling someone he loves them, and his voice is all soft and loving. I stiffen in surprise because it never occurred to me that he had someone waiting at home. This is terrible, he is terrible, and who the fuck is Tessie? His voice softened at the mention of her. Is it his kid, a daughter, and what were those extras he was talking about? The man’s sex mad, obviously because he’s an out-of-control sex machine and a total bastard to go with it. What man screws a stranger when he obviously has a loving family at home and I’m shocked to feel the tears make an appearance, showing I care too much about this? I screwed a married man with a family on Christmas eve. I am going to hell for this, but I’m not going until I give him a piece of my mind.
Flinging the door open, I hear the words leave my lips and then stare in astonishment at a room that resembles the cabin style one we just spoke about. Candles flicker on every hard surface, stuffed into discarded bottles from the night before. I even register the dreaded Tequila bottle mocking me from the side, and I face Oliver Steele with a fire of my own blazing from my eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
He looks genuinely confused and I march in and point my finger straight into his infernally hard chest.
“I heard you, you cheating bastard. Who was that, your loving wife, waiting for you to return? What about your daughter, no doubt having the worst Christmas of her life because her daddy never made it home due to the fact he was screwing what he believed to be a lady of the night on his desk? And what about me? I suppose I don’t count in all this because I’m the cheap whore who let you. Well, for your information, I’m not a cheap whore and you weren’t that good, anyway. People like you should never be allowed to reproduce because the world would be a better place without you in it.”
He just stares at me in confusion and I wave my hand around and push away how impressed I am right now with his efforts and say harshly, “One for the road it seems. God, I’m such a fool, just my luck to be trapped here with a person like you on Christmas day. I must have been very naughty to deserve such a gift.”
Turning, I make toward the door, but before I can get there, a strong hand grabs the hood of my borrowed sweater and pulls me back. I almost think he’s about to choke me before I’m spun into that woman ruining chest and his strong arms imprison me in the hottest embrace.
“Listen to me. I’m not married.”
“Ugh, you’re engaged then, even worse.”
My voice is muffled against his chest and to my surprise, he laughs softly, “I’m not engaged either. Not dating, not in love, not cheating. Relax, you came to the wrong conclusion.”
With superhuman strength, I pull back and my eyes flash as I sneer, “Then who is Tessie? I heard you, ‘give Tessie a kiss from me.’ Don’t make excuses, I heard you.”
He begins to laugh and says, “Don’t mind her, she’s a bitch.”
I open my mouth to speak and words just fail me because this man obviously doesn’t have a heart.
“A bitch! Oh my god, stop speaking, you just can’t help yourself, can you? The poor thing. Who calls someone they love a bitch, you’re disgusting?”
He laughs harder and I make to slap him again because I am so angry but this time, he anticipates it and catches my hand and says, still laughing, “Tessie is a bitch, a golden retriever, actually. Tessie isn’t my daughter, she’s my dog, and the person I was speaking to is my mom.”
“The temptress?”
I stare at him, my eyes wide, “For suck’s sake, who calls their mom a temptress?”
He is openly laughing at me and says, “She is. She told me about the turkey she’s cooking, that let me tell you, is the best. She reminded me I’m missing out on the best meal of the year, surrounded by the only people who actually love me. So yes, she is a temptress but not half as much as you my little fairy, even in anger you are way too tempting. Anyway, do you like it?”
“Like what?”
“Our new home. I did it for you-for us. If we are going to live the dream, we need to create the romance. So, what do you think? I’m quite proud of this actually, so choose your words carefully.”
He winks and I stare around in respect and admiration because my earlier outrage has been replaced by total surprise. A warm feeling replaces the cold one of just moments ago, and I blink as I take in the romance of the situation.
He has surprised me again because this is magnificent. It’s so romantic, from the candles flickering in the darkness, that he’s created by drawing the blinds. The fire dancing on the wall is given life and heat from the many candles lit in discarded bottles. The comfortable bed he has made on the floor looks inviting, but not as much as the man who is looking at me nervously as if what I think matters.
Strangely, tears come to my eyes because he has made such an effort—for me. It’s truly magical and yet something’s missing.
Somehow my mood changes in an instant and I feel happy and carefree, as if I haven’t just made the biggest and most embarrassing mistake of my life and I say with excitement, “You forgot the decorations.”
His face drops and I say happily, “Come on, I know where we can find a tree. I can’t do it on my own though.”
Grabbing his hand, I pull him after me and start running toward the elevator. I can’t quite believe that my emotions are so all over the place because now I feel so happy, I could burst. I must be a manic depressive because I’m exhausted by emotion. Maybe I’ll die from it with Mr. Steele impaled inside me. I giggle as I picture my tomb stone. ‘She was exhausted from emotion.’
As we fall into the elevator and the doors close, I look up into a pair of eyes that steal my breath away.
12
Oliver
This woman turns me on so much I can’t think straight. She looked so sexy standing there with her eyes blazing as she tore me off a strip. Then her mood switched like a light switch and I watched the excitement grip her as she thought of something to add to the party and as I followed her, I had a sudden realization that I would follow this woman anywhere.
As soon as we make it to the elevator, I can’t control myself and pushing her against the mirrored walls, I growl, “God, you’re so sexy.”
Pressing my lips to hers, she groans into my mouth and her arms pull me close, giving me the green light I so badly need. Running my hands around her waist, I grab her ass and pull her close and hear her gasp, “I can’t stop this.”
“Do you want to?”
My voice comes out needy and desperate and she shakes her head vigorously, “No, I don’t.”
Pushing the hoodie up, I run my hands over those breasts that will be my downfall and she groans loudly. Quickly, I rip off the barrier between us and she pushes my shirt off my back, which joins it in a crumpled heap on the flo
or.
I nip her neck and she shivers as she pushes against me and fumbles with my pants.
Shrugging them off, I run my hands up under the impossibly short, sexy skirt and lift one leg in my arms and push against her. The thin fabric of her panties is an irritant and I rip them off, loving how soaked they are with her arousal. Groaning, I drop to my knees before her and flick my tongue against her pussy, loving how she shivers and gasps, “Yes, oh god, yes.”
I flick my tongue inside and love the sweet smell of a woman who is so turned on and bathed in sex of the night before. This is dirty sexy love and I am keen to possess all of her.
I hook her leg over my shoulder and lick and tease her clit until she shudders and her fingers grab my hair as she grinds against my face.
My cock throbs so hard, desperate to feel that wet heat for itself and without even thinking, I stand and press against her. She gasps, “Condom!”
Her eyes are wide as I poise at her entrance and I feel the frustration tearing away my resolve as I groan, “I’ll pull out.”
“No.” She shakes her head and moans again when I insert two fingers inside her and pump, loving the way she feels against them. Hot, warm and welcoming and I groan out loud as I imagine her squeezing my throbbing cock instead of my fingers. She feels so good and she obviously thinks so too because she says huskily, “I’m trusting you.”
I don’t hang around and push inside, and I swear I see the Holy Grail. The delicious feeling of her walls clenching my cock, squeezing it, loving it, worshipping it, sends a message straight to my frozen heart. This feels like heaven, home and every fucking wish I ever had and as I begin to rock inside her, she screams my name. “Mr. Steele, that is so good.”
Fuck me, that’s weird, so I growl, “It’s Oliver, you’re not fucking my father.”
Deck the Boss: A holiday office romance Page 4