by Peyton Banks
I smile at my thoughts because that’s the exact reason why I’m attracted to her. A strong woman is the sexiest thing to me. And she has all of my attention.
Rylan clears her throat, and when I look at her, she stretches her spine, putting on her best unbothered expression—my grin widens.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Bass,” she quips with emphasis on the Mr.
“You don’t have to be so formal.” I snicker and lift my pen to my mouth with my elbows on the armrest, rolling it between both hands. “Why’d you sneak out?” I tilt my chin at her.
She draws in air and releases it. “I didn’t sneak—”
“Yes, you did,” I interrupt with a smirk.
“No, I left. The night was over. There was no need for me to stay,” she defends.
“I think you enjoyed yourself a little more than you wanted to,” I boast as I tap my fingertips together before standing up. “Why’d you leave? Be real with me.”
“I am.” She shrugs. “There wasn’t a need to stick around,” she says as if she believes it.
With my lips pressed together, I glance over my shoulder at her back and nod. “Ouch.”
She sighs. “That’s not what—”
“No, you’re fine. I don’t believe you, but I’ll let you have your story.
Rylan grips the back of the chair and turns to gawk at me. She starts to say something and immediately refrains. “Mr. Bass—” she pauses for a beat. “Did you call me to your office for anything work-related?” she deadpans.
I step around the desk, peeking up at the memorabilia on the walls. “I did actually. I need to see your books for the last six months.”
She gives me a confused nod. “Why? Is something wrong?”
“No.”
“Then what do you need to see them for?” she returns, though her tone remains calm and collected.
“I’m not trying to dig up dirt or anything.” I wave both hands at my sides. I don’t need to, but I feel I should be open with her. “Not that this matters, but I can be honest with you. I mean we—” I stop myself from bringing up our night together. “Anyway, my father is grooming me. He’s going to retire soon, so I’m here to learn the ropes. I’ve been to every office, trying to get acclimated with the staff.”
She stares at me.
“So, don’t be so defensive. Not with me,” I whisper out the end of my statement.
“Okay. That makes sense, sorry if I came off that way. I guess I just wasn’t sure what to expect. When people start bringing in unnecessary, unexpected changes, you never know what to think.”
“Fair enough.” I breathe in. “So, when can I take you out?”
Her eyes bulge out, and she cocks her neck. “Excuse me?”
I clear my throat and lean over the desk while staring her straight in the face. “I want to take you out, anywhere you want to go.” I gesture toward the city outside the window.
Rylan looks at me over her glasses, and I swear beads of pre-cum form on my dick.
“We can’t do that,” she states flatly.
“You mean, you can’t? Because I’m pretty certain I can be down with taking you out.”
“Look, Mr. Bass—”
“That’s my father. Kareem or people close to me call me KJ—”
“Kareem,” she emphasizes. “I enjoyed myself, but we should forget it happened.”
“Double ouch. I didn’t think I was that bad, and I’m certain you didn’t either.”
She sucks her teeth. “Not only do we work together, you’re my boss’s son and soon to be boss. I cannot date you. And I’d greatly appreciate it if we keep it professional,” she finishes.
I don’t tell her that I agree or understand because I don’t. We had one magical night together, but my insides burn for more. And even though she’s working hard to show me she’s unfazed by our connection, I see deep down that she wants it too.
“All right, well, I’ll have Priscilla bring over those reports.”
I nod and watch as she exits my dad’s office. Rylan disappears down the hall as I fade into my thoughts. She says we can’t date, but I don’t believe that. It’s hard to turn off the kind of attraction we have for one another, and I can’t say that I want to. I’ll give her some space, but she better be prepared because I’m not backing down so easily.
4
Rylan
My brows knit together as I stare at my computer screen. I’m looking at the pending contracts I have to review, and things aren’t adding up. I tap a button on my phone, and Priscilla’s voice blares from my speaker.
“Hey, can you come to my office, please?”
“On my way,” Priscilla answers, then the line clicks. A second later, she enters the room. “What’s up?”
“What happened to the contract for Train-X, Kade Braxton’s company? It needed my approval for an official offer, but It’s not in the pending list.” I frown.
“Oh. Kareem signed off on that last week. Sorry, I thought you knew,” she answers.
“What?” I yelp and click through our software until I find the completed folder. There it is in big, bold letters—approved by KBassJr dances on the screen. “How did—okay, Priscilla, thank you.”
“Anything else?”
I shake my head, but don’t peel my eyes away from the screen. A part of me is saying to stay calm, but this pisses me off. He’s been here a week and a half and has managed to get under my skin daily. It’s his company, I understand that, but not even Bass, Sr. pulled shit like this. I have a system, and everyone here knows to respect that.
Every day he flirts and blatantly dismisses my thoughts on where we stand with each other. We had a great night, but that’s it. We can’t—shouldn’t cross that line again. He said he gets it, but has made it his business to show me he hasn’t gotten the idea of us out of his head.
And to add to the drama that can ensue, the man took up residence in the empty office across the way from me. A very far distance with the rows of cubicles and the tiny atrium in the center of the floor—but he’s there nonetheless. As annoying as it is, I’d be lying if I said I entirely hate him being in sight.
The truth is, I like looking at him. It’s torture really—pretending not to be attracted to him when every inch of my body remembers the fingerprints he left on my ass. But today, when I look over and see his stupid grinning face, I want to scream. How dare he make a call in my department without at least informing me?
The desire to confront him burns hot, and before long, I am up out of my seat and marching my way to the other side of the building. A colleague exits his office just as I approach. I enter the room, closing the door behind me. Kareem sits back when I strut my way to his desk.
Pressing my fist into the hard surface, I speak. “Can you explain to me why you approved the Train-X account without talking to me?”
Kareem brings his knuckles to his chin. “Happy Thursday to you, too,” he says.
“Listen, I don’t know how they do things in the other offices, but here we appreciate courtesy. There’s a system within my department, one that’s trusted by your father—”
“I’m not my father,” he blurts. “By no means am I saying I don’t trust your system. Kade’s cousin, Jackson, and I went to college together. He’s an investor and sent Kade and the Train-X brand our way. He called with a last-minute request, and you were out for lunch that day. I wasn’t trying to step on your toes. You were busy, and I was available, so I signed the documents, and I meant to tell you, but it slipped my mind.”
“Oh.” My breath shatters from me, causing my back to buckle in defeat.
Kareem gazes at me for a moment, neither of us saying anything else. The intensity in his stare sends a chill up my back. A tiny sliver of my being wants to respond with something snappy, but I have no rebuttal. I came here to set him straight, yet all I want to do is run my fingers through his beard.
Why is this man so damn fine? I internalize the thought before standing to put some
much-needed distance between us.
“I know this is your domain,” he finally adds.
“What?” I spin to face him.
He leans forward. “Have dinner with me tonight,” he requests, changing the subject.
I look at him, confused, then chuckle. He stands and strolls to the seat next to me. I fall back into the chair, straighten my posture, and press my lips together. “Kareem.”
He places a hand over mine. “Don’t say no.” He waits for me to respond, and when I don’t, he continues. “It’s just dinner. You have to eat, right?” He searches my face.
“I’m flattered, I am. But I can’t do this.” I wave my index between us. “Not only are you my boss, but you’re my employer’s son, and I don’t need anything romantic in my life right now. I only came to ask that you inform me of these sorts of things, so I’m not blindsided.”
I stand again and prepare to leave, but he stops me. A lump forms in my throat and I swallow it as he pins me between him and the old Cherrywood desk.
Kareem
I know it shouldn’t, however, seeing the fire in her eyes over her authority excites me. I love the play for power she possesses, but she needs to know I’m in charge. This is my game to play and win.
I’m going to consume her, command her body, and string the pleasure from her to my heart’s desire. Or until I come watching her writhe in ecstasy. Rylan stills in front of me, not moving away from my touch like I expect her to. I rise to my full height, towering over her short frame. With my palm resting against her hip, I step as close as I can without melding our bodies together.
She stiffens while looking everywhere but at me. Even still, I can see the fight behind her eyes. Her brain is telling her to deny me, but her body says otherwise. Like me, she remembers how good I made her feel, and I can sense she can tell how badly I want to do it again.
Our eyes meet, and I swear I see her heart skip a beat. Or maybe I’m projecting because I know mine does. The room is silent except for our breaths. That’s how deep our chemistry is, that even the air in our lungs can’t handle the connection. I want to run my hand up her frame, but I don’t. I like seeing the control slipping from her gaze.
Rylan stretches her spine while poking her chest in my direction, and, out of reflex, I drop my eyes to her breasts. She’s fully covered, but nothing can erase the image of her perky d-cups from my head. I lick my lips and trail my gaze back to her face. Needing to touch her, I glance up and down her body before bringing my thumb to her lips.
Rylan sucks in air, letting out a subtle gasp that I almost don’t notice. She’s caving. When I run the pad of my finger over her bottom lip, she tugs at my waist. She uses her eyes to tell me she needs more, and I oblige. We meet somewhere in the middle when I bring my hand to the back of her neck.
I inhale her scent and my dick pulses behind the fabric of my gray slacks. Rylan closes the gap, devouring my mouth with hers as our tongues fight to be in control. She moans against me while bringing her arms around my neck. I press myself closer to her, swooping her up and sitting her luscious ass atop my desk.
Rylan tries to move and take the lead, but I stop her. “Stop moving,” I order through a kiss. “I know you like being in control.” I lick the roof of her mouth. “It’s sexy as fuck, really.” A peck. “But when the clothes come off, this is my territory. You do what I say when I say it.”
She remains quiet.
“Now, I’m going to make you come, then, after work, you’ll join me for dinner.”
Her gaze roams my face like she’s uncertain about what I’ve said. “Our staff is right outside that door,” she states.
“Then I guess you need to come before someone walks in.” I kiss her again.
A whimper pours from her, and I smile. She’s turned on, and so am I. Who doesn’t love the thrill of being caught? Slowly I unzip her pants, easing them down only to stop to take her face between my palms. After I’ve had my fill of her mouth, I return to my previous task and release the button on her pants.
Her breath hitches when my fingers find her bud, and with only the slightest touch, she shudders against me. Her pussy is wet and ready for me to claim. Rylan spreads her legs, giving me as much access as possible. I wish we were home where I could get her naked and truly have my way with her.
I push her on to her back and scoot until my dick touches the hard surface. Dragging my middle finger from her opening back to her clit, I groan at the sexy faces she makes. Her mouth gapes open, and she struggles with her breaths. My eyes narrow into slits as I wet my lips, trying to ignore my hard-on.
I rub circles around her mound, increasing pressure with each of her moans. Rylan pinches her lips together to quiet herself, and I smile. Knowing I’m the reason she might lose control of herself does a lot for my ego. I trace my finger up and down her center, torturing her with the anticipation of me finally slipping inside her.
After a moment, I do, and slide two fingers past her opening.
“Ah,” Rylan mutters. “Fuck.”
I move in and out of her, feeling her muscles contract and expand around my finger. Her g-spot brushes against my touch, so I curve my palm upward to pet her love button gently.
“Fuck,” she whispers, and I increase my pressure. “Kareem, you’re going to make me come.”
I groan when she says my name. It sounds just as sweet as it did the first time.
“How bad do you want to come?” I finally ask.
Rylan doesn’t answer with words. Instead, she uses her hips to buck against my wrist.
I pull away, and she shoots daggers into me.
“Answer me,” I order.
She swallows. “So bad.”
I smile and rub around her hole, purposely not reentering her. “I’ll see you tonight, right.”
She doesn’t answer, but when I pull away, she grips me. “Yes. You can take me out for Italian food.”
Satisfaction fills me, bringing a grin to my face. Returning to the task, I continue to fuck her with my hand, watching as she loses herself in the moment. I feel her walls tighten around me, and at the same time, her face transforms into a display of pleasure.
“Don’t tighten up. Let it go. Come as hard as you want.”
Rylan gazes up at me, almost like she’s challenging me. So I meet her stare and pump my fingers in and out of her warmth. That sloppy wet sound of her arousal and my thrusts fill the air, fueling the guttural moan that escapes me. I hover over her, pushing my crotch between her legs while still working her sex. I want to feel her against me when the orgasm brimming on the horizon rips from her body. I want her chest to heave against mine as she fights to breathe, and most of all, I want to be ready to taste her lips as she flails in ecstasy.
5
Rylan
Standing in front of his door, I count to ten in my head. He was supposed to take me out but plans changed somewhere throughout the day, and he'll be cooking for me instead.
I can't believe what transpired today. More importantly, I can't believe I agreed to dinner with Kareem. This is a bad idea. I can feel it down to my toes. But no matter how deep my reservations lie, I can't deny my attraction to this man.
And here I am, outside his apartment, debating if I should turn around and go home. Yet, with that thought in my mind, I still lift my fist and gently give it a tap against the surface. I suck in a breath and chuckle while staring at the number on his door.
"What are you doing, Rylan?" I whisper to myself.
Kareem opens the door, greeting me with a smile, the aroma of scented candles, and the soothing sounds of Sade. My muscles begin to relax, and I pull a grin to my lips as well. He catches me off guard by gripping my waist and pulling me to him. Right in the middle of his foyer, he kisses me—deep, long, and hard.
My body betrays me again as I nearly collapse into him. A throaty groan slips from me when he pulls back.
"Thanks for agreeing to the last-minute change." He backs away, dragging me inside and closing
us in.
Kareem is behind me, and I see his hands before I feel them on my shoulders. He peels my coat from my body, making way for a cool draft to pierce me. It's not cold at all. In fact, it's quite cozy, but I believe with my nerves wreaking havoc, my senses are heightened. The first night I was here, I didn't notice the fireplace, but today he's set it aflame. It's beautiful in combination with the soothing jazz.
I nod just as he walks around so that we face each other.
"So, you're a little early—"
"Uh. No, we said seven-thirty. It's seven-thirty."
He smirks. "Well yes, but aren't women usually a little late getting ready?"
I frown and follow him into the kitchen. "Not if she doesn't have to be. I actually hate tardiness."
He walks around the island, glancing over his shoulders at me. "Tardiness," he says in a mocking tone, rolls his eyes, and then spins on his heels, facing me, but walking backward.
The way his lips tilt up at the corners pulls a smile of my own from within me. "Why is that funny?"
Kareem licks his lips. "You just seem so serious all the time." He pauses. "I'll tell you what, why don't you pour us a couple of drinks while I finish dinner. Something strong that will"—His eyes zero in on my hand that is running against the dip of my throat—"calm you." His words are more of a demand than a question. "Glasses and scotch are over on the drink cart, ice in the freezer to your left."
I drop my hands to my sides, scurry over to the sink to rinse them, and hustle back over to fill two glasses with ice cubes from his ridiculously fancy refrigerator. I feel his eyes on me as I pour equal amounts of liquor for each of us. The condensation serves as the calming motivation I need to get my nerves in order. I swallow my drink in one gulp before I even have a chance to bring him his. I quickly refill my glass, spinning only to see him staring at me wide-eyed.
