Yeah. That was the problem. I was being distracted. And that’s exactly why I’d avoided relationships in high school and college all together. I wanted to do my work and impress my uncle and get a good job. Once I accomplished those things, I could make time for love and sex.
And pleasure, my brain adds.
I scowl at nothing.
Pleasure is easy. Pleasure is something that I can give myself. I don’t need some hot executive tongue fucking me every day to have an orgasm.
The truth in my brain is right there, but I push it aside. I can teach myself to come like that. It can’t possibly be that special. Maybe there’s a sex toy that mimics a tongue. I’ve heard some of my friends talk about vibrators that suck on your clit. Maybe I’ll get one of those and I won’t even notice the difference.
That part of my brain that’s already mentally stripping down for Kris again is laughing at me.
I knew that this could happen. Maybe that’s the real reason that I’ve avoided it for so long. My gut instincts told me exactly how much I wanted it, and that if I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop.
At least right now that’s how it feels. Like I’ve had one taste of the most addictive drug in the world and now it’s all that I want. I crave it under my skin. Impossible, given the fact that it’s only been a few hours since I’ve seen him. But thinking about being spread out on the floor has me ready to retreat into the bathroom and touch myself to relieve the ache.
No.
I need to focus. Find a way through Meynard’s bullshit list of tasks and force him to give me work that actually has substance. That’s all that I can do right now. That’s all I want to do.
If I keep repeating it to myself over and over again, maybe it will be true.
It’s past lunchtime when I realize that I haven’t eaten. Jenna must have already gone to the cafeteria. She usually picks me up on her way down, but I haven’t been at my desk. I’ve been staring at a copy machine for two hours, and I swear that I disappeared into the twilight zone because it feels like it’s been just minutes. My brain just skipped over making approximately ten thousand copies of the first pieces of Meynard’s presentation. It’s not done in its entirety, but it’s done enough to start that.
Or so he tells me. He won’t tell me the details of what he’s actually proposing, even though I’ve asked him multiple times. Ever since Kris spoke to me yesterday, he’s even more tight lipped. He doesn’t trust me, and he hates Kris.
I can see why. Two days in his company and I can already tell that Kris can run circles around my uncle. Not exactly a kind characterization, but it’s the truth.
My stomach is growling as I finish off the last of the copies and box them. I drop the file boxes in Meynard’s office, hoping that he doesn’t notice me, but he does. “Hold on a second.”
He’s on the phone, but I wait. The excuse that it’s nearly two o’clock in the afternoon and I haven’t eaten yet won’t matter to him. His eyes land on me after he hangs up.
“I have to go out of town for a couple of days. Last minute arrangements for the presentation.”
“You have to go out of town for that? I thought all the presentations were theoretical.”
My uncle’s face goes cold and hard. “They are theoretical. But if you want to win, you need to do more than what’s expected of you. Haven’t I been trying to tell you that? The person who’s going to win this contest is the person that goes the furthest and has the most in place.”
“It’s not a contest, Uncle.”
“What did you just say to me?” His voice has turned deadly smooth and soft.
A shiver of fear goes down my spine. “I just meant that while it is competitive, I didn’t think it was a competition. You’re being given an opportunity to present what you view to be the best vision for the company. And the people evaluating it will be the ones to decide what direction that is. If they decide that they don’t like your direction, won’t taking steps to enact it before they’ve decided make you look presumptuous?”
He stares at me for so long that I wonder if I’ve made him have a stroke. Or an aneurism. Then he slowly shifts to that his elbows rest on his desk, hands clasped in front of him.
“Chianna, you’re an intern here. And because you’re my niece, and my ward, I thought it was a good idea. But don’t you ever fucking pretend that you know more about my business than me, is that clear? You’re nothing but a girl fresh out of college. You have no life experience, and the things they teach you in college aren’t worth shit.”
I swallow, and my eyes drop to the floor. The embarrassed blush is on my cheeks, but I can’t do anything about it. It’s just the way that my body works.
“I’m leaving tomorrow. I’ll be gone before you’re up, probably. I’ll be gone for three days. There will be a list of things for you to do here, and there will be someone checking up on your progress.”
“Okay.” I turn to go.
“Chianna.”
“Yes?”
He’s not even looking at me now. Already looking at his next piece of paper. “If you don’t finish the work that I give you, or you decide to go off on a tangent like that again, it will be your last day at this internship. Am I clear?”
I swallow. “Yes.”
“Good. Don’t be late for the meeting.”
There’s nothing I can say to that, so I don’t bother saying anything as I head out the door and down to the cafeteria. The meeting this afternoon is a big deal. Everyone who’s putting forward a presentation is going to be in the same room with the CEO, President, and the various Vice Presidents of Core Tech. That’s not for a couple of hours at least. I have some time.
Despite the threats, I’m glad that he’s going out of town. No matter the additional work that he’s going to pile on me, it’ll be good to have some relief and time away from him. If I could afford to live on my own in this city, I would. But without the trust money, I can’t. It’s not like they’re paying me.
The cafeteria is uncharacteristically empty. But then again, it’s long past lunchtime. That’s fine. It makes it faster to get what I want and I practically inhale the food. I’m throwing away my trash and putting the tray away when I sense someone behind me.
“I haven’t seen you all day.”
Kris is standing there, hands in the pockets of the perfect suit that I didn’t have an chance to admire this morning when he helped me in the hall. I was too busy making sure that I wasn’t ogling him.
“No, you haven’t.”
Any ideas of him being the problem have evaporated after that conversation with my uncle. Kris has been nothing but kind. And more than that.
If I’m an addict, I really don’t want to resist this.
“Is everything okay?”
I shrug. “Yes and no.”
Kris’s face darkens. “What did Meynard do?”
“Nothing.” I say the word too quickly and he knows it. There’s no one else in the cafeteria, and no one to see the way he backs me into the corner against the wall. But I’m not afraid. This is exactly what I want. Him. Closer. And the danger is so much higher here than it was a t the gym this morning.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he says quietly. “Especially after I saw you walk away from me in that skirt.”
My heart kicks up into a faster rhythm. “You like this skirt?”
“I love this skirt.” Kris’s hand drifts across my hip. “It’s sexy as hell. I want to fuck you in it, and then I’ll be more than happy to fuck you out of it.”
All the air in my lungs goes short. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Why not?” He leans close and lips brush the shell of my ear. “No one but you is around to hear me.”
“Because,” I say, though my resolve is crumbling, “I’m an intern, and you’re an executive. And it could get us both in a hell of a lot of trouble.”
Kris grins. “I like trouble.”
“Kris—”
“And I like the way you say my name. Soon I’m going to have you screaming it.”
“Oh . . .” It’s a whispered moan because just the way he says it paints the picture that I want and need and suddenly I’m wet.
His hand traces lower on my skirt. “Tell me, Chianna. What kind of panties do you have on under this skirt?”
“It’s another thong. Like the one you stole.”
A smirk. “I borrowed it. Besides, you were running short on time.”
“Are you looking to borrow these too?” I ask, daring to look up at him and watch as his eyes darken.
His fingers reach the hem of my skirt and he bunches it in his fist. “As a matter of fact, I am. Are you going to let me?”
For several breathless moments we do nothing but stare at each other. Kris lets his eyes wander to my cleavage and back. “Why should I?” I ask. Whatever his reason, I want to hear him say it.
A slow smile touches his lips. It reminds me of the slow smile that he pushed directly against my pussy this morning, and it does absolutely nothing to help the wetness situation that I have going on. God, help me. “I want you to walk around this office knowing that you’re bared to the world and knowing that I was the one that did it. I want you to walk around in nothing knowing that my tongue was in your pussy this morning and your panties are in my pocket this afternoon. And then when today is over, I want you to go home and not do anything.”
My eyebrows rise. “What do you mean?”
In one smooth movement, Kris slips his hand under my skirt and up between my legs. I gasp, those same legs turning into jelly and making me fall back into the wall. Long, clever fingers stroke me through the thin fabric. I can already tell that the thong is soaking through, and a blush rises, blooming across my chest and cheeks.
“Fuck, I love it when you blush,” he says under his breath. “But what I mean is, you feel how good this is?”
A deliberate movement with his thumb over my clit has me biting my lip to keep from moaning. “Yes.”
“I mean that I want you to sink into this feeling. Savor it. And then when I stop, there’s no more. Not until I get you into my bed.”
My mouth drops open. Because there’s no way in hell I’m going to make it that long. I don’t even know when we’ll be able to make that happen. “Not even—”
“Nothing.” The sound is a pure growl. “Because I want you to feel the exquisite frustration of anticipation. And knowing that the next time you come will be with me. On my tongue. On my fingers. On my cock.”
I shudder. The way he says it makes my blood heat up and I can’t think clearly. I want that. And yet I want release. The kind that he’ll give me. Right now. “What about right now?”
Kris strokes the fabric again, going over my clit in slow circles until I’m arching into him. One small slip of his fingers and he could be inside me. “No,” he says, suddenly moving his hand and tugging on my thong until it starts to drop down my thighs.
“What’s stopping me from going to the bathroom and finishing myself off?”
“Nothing’s stopping you,” he says with a cheeky smile. The thong slips down past my knees and he bends to catch it. Helps me step out of it. “But you won’t.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because you’re curious,” he says. As if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You want to know what it’s like. And you believe me when I tell you that waiting a little longer will make you come like the earth is shattering underneath you.”
It’s my turn to smirk. “I thought that already happened this morning?”
“Oh, Chianna, you have no idea.” He lifts my thong between us where we can both see it. My arousal is visible, plain as day. And both my jaw and stomach drop as he brings the fabric to his mouth and licks it. Groaning. “You taste so fucking good.”
It’s the hottest thing that I’ve ever seen, and now I have nothing to stop that same arousal from dripping down my thighs. “Okay,” I say, practically gasping for air. “I’ll wait.”
Kris smiles. The kind of smile that’s wicked. The kind that lets everyone know that you have a secret. “Good.”
“And you won’t either?”
He raises one eyebrow and then tucks my panties into the inside pocket of his jacket. “I never said that. I doubt I’ll be able to make it an hour without excusing myself to do some more thinking about you.”
I gape at him. “That’s not fair.”
Snaking an arm around my waist, he yanks me against his body where I can feel how iron hard he is. Holy shit. He’s huge. “I never said it was fair. I said you were curious. Am I wrong?”
Damn it all to hell.
He’s not wrong. And I hate him for that. I love him for that. The idea of him coming while thinking about me? I love that. Him doing it knowing that I’ve agreed not to? I can’t explain why that sends fire spiraling through my core, but it does. It steals all my breath and makes me want to drag him anywhere more private.
Voices echo from down the hall, and Kris lets me go. He steps back to a friendly distance. “I’m sure I’ll see you at the meeting,” he says. “And later we can…make further arrangements.”
He’s already walking out the door as other Core Tech employees walk in. There’s no way that they would ever know what just happened between us. Or the fact that it feels like my entire world has flipped like an hourglass in a matter of minutes.
And I hope to God they don’t know how soaking wet I am as I walk back to my desk.
8
Chianna
The meeting room is intimidating. All the powerhouse players from Core Tech are here. If I want to stay at this company, then I need to impress at least some people in this room. For today I’ll settle for keeping my mouth shut and disappearing into the background.
Meynard directs me to sit in a chair next to him, and I do. Honestly, I’m not sure why I’m in this meeting at all. I have several copies of his partial proposal, and I’m supposed to distribute them when he says, but that’s something that anyone could have done. Even him.
But it’s okay. Just a few more hours of this, and then I can disappear into my room and not come out. Tomorrow he’ll be gone, and I’ll have a few days of freedom.
Movement out of the corner of my eye has me turning, and I go entirely still as Kris sits down on my right. “Meynard,” he acknowledges my uncle. “Chianna.”
“Have to sit right there, do you?”
Kris intentionally looks around the table. “Do you see another place to sit?”
I hadn’t looked around, but now I do and I see that he has a point. All the rest of the chairs around the massive conference table are filled. The one next to me was the only one available. If I didn’t know better, I would say that he planned it, but I’m not sure how he would manage to do that.
My uncle doesn’t bother to give a response to that.
“Okay, let’s get started.” A man sitting near the head of the table says. I recognize him from my research as the CEO of Core Tech, Brandon Wales. “Go around the table. I want each of you to come up and give a brief summary of where you’re at in your proposal. If you have anything for the management team, that’s fine.” He chuckles. “I know that more than a few of you will be a little bit cagey about your details in a room full of people who are working on the same task, so I won’t ask for too much. But we’re down to two weeks until the final presentations. If the management team and I don’t feel like your proposal will be ready in time, we reserve the right to ask you to not submit it. You can start.” He points to a man that I don’t know, who stands and makes his way to the front of the room.
He’s clearly nervous, and even though I should be locked in and focused on the task at hand, learning how this thing works, I’m not. Because Kris has moved his chair closer. Not too close, but close enough that I can feel him there, and close enough that I can only think about the fact that he has my panties in the pocket of his jacket.
Exactly like he
said that I would.
Under the table, his fingers brush my thigh.
Reaching down, I grab his hand from tracing upwards further, the way I already feel that it’s going. Alone in the cafeteria? That’s one thing. Here? In front of every powerful person at the company? I…don’t think I can.
Instead of pulling back, Kris weaves our fingers together. It doesn’t make sense how such a simple touch can create the impression of such a dangerous secret. Nothing is bad or awful about holding hands. But where our skin is touching it feels like a brand. Hot. Overwhelming. I don’t want it to stop.
Nothing happens for a while. There are a few more speakers, men and women. I try to hear their words, but from the way even the managing team is looking at their phones and scribbling on their notepads, these people aren’t serious contenders. I’m sitting in between the real contenders, and based on the way people are being called on, Meynard and Kris will go last.
Because of course.
As if they didn’t have enough of a rivalry already.
Then again, I’m sure that the people on top don’t necessarily think that the rivalry is a bad thing. It does drive them both to produce work that will outdo the other.
That can only be good for business.
I’m sure that if I said that to uncle Meynard he would flay me alive yet again for the observation. But just because I’m new to business, doesn’t mean that I’m wrong.
Kris holds my hand for so long that I get used to it. And it’s only when he moves—brushes his thumb along the back of my hand—that I jump and realize it’s still there. What does it mean that it feels that natural? Is it bad that it does?
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