by Ramona Gray
“Mr. Wilson?”
Dane stepped away from me and strode into the office.
“What is it?” he barked.
“Your four o’clock is here. Should I send him to your office?”
“No,” he said. “Put him in the boardroom.”
“Yes, sir.”
The intercom clicked off, and I backed away as Mason reached for me. I bent and snatched my wet shirt and bra from the floor, holding them against my chest as Mason frowned at me.
“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?”
“Please leave,” I whispered. The pleasure I had felt at their touch had disappeared, and I was left with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. What had I done? I had allowed my boss and his best friend to – to touch me, to make me…
My mind skittered away from the word and shame swept through me. What if my father found out? What if he told the church members? I had seen that once when I was only thirteen. A young woman, barely nineteen, was brought in front of the entire congregation and forced to confess her sins of fornication. She had wept and shook through the entire confession, and I’d stared grimly at my knees, unable to watch her shame as the other church members stared at her in stony silence.
I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t stand in front of my parents and the entire church and admit to what I let, no what I wanted, Mason and Dane to do to me. I’d already decided that once I was free of my father and free of the church and its rules, I would find a nice boy and have sex with him. It was one more way to rebel against my father and his constant reminder that nice girls waited until marriage, that nice girls didn’t date – they courted. Kissing, touching, having sex was meant for the marriage bed only.
But there was something entirely different about meeting a nice boy and sleeping with him compared to letting two men feel me up in the office bathroom. I clamped my mouth shut against the whimper that wanted to escape.
“Please leave,” I repeated.
“Mason, leave her,” Dane said.
Mason frowned at him. “Dane, I can’t leave her like this. She’s upset and -”
“Leave her, I said,” Dane snarled. He all but yanked Mason out of the bathroom and shut the door. I dressed quickly, grimacing at the cold material, before easing the door open.
Dane and Mason were standing silently in the middle of the office and I stared at the floor as I walked past them. My cheeks were burning, and I was very close to vomiting.
“Go home, Naomi,” Dane said gruffly.
I froze, my heart stopping in my chest for a moment before galloping back into action. I whipped around and stared pleadingly at Dane.
“I’m so sorry. Please, I’m so sorry. Please don’t fire me. I won’t say a word about what happened and I – I’ll never go near you again. Just please don’t fire me. I really need this job. Please, Mr. Wilson. Please.”
The words tumbled out of my mouth as the hot tears leaked down my cheeks. I could only imagine how utterly pathetic I looked with my red face, my shirt clinging wetly to my large breasts and belly, and the tears spilling from my eyes. I didn’t care. I would get down on my knees and beg for my job if that’s what it took. Without this job, I was doomed.
“You’re not fired,” Dane said quickly, holding Mason back when he started forward. “I just meant go home for the day.”
I stared hesitantly at him and he said, “Go home, Naomi, but I expect you to be back in the office at seven-thirty tomorrow. I’ll need you to work on the Stanton file again.”
My entire body trembling with relief, I turned and fled.
* * *
Mason
“What the fuck, Dane?” I turned on my best friend the moment the office door shut behind Naomi. “I know you’re a fucking cruel bastard, but you went too far, you asshole. She needed to be held, to be soothed and shown -”
“No,” Dane said, “she needed to get away from us. You saw the look on her face, Mason. She was both incredibly ashamed and terrified by what happened.”
I stared uncertainly at Dane. Truthfully, I was so wrapped up in Naomi’s soft body, in the feel of her nipples in my mouth, and the sound of her cries, I hadn’t really noticed the look on her face. All I’d wanted was to sink my dick deep into her warm pussy and watch as she climaxed around my cock.
“Are you sure?” I said.
Dane nodded before grimacing and adjusting his cock through his suit pants. “I think that was her first orgasm.”
“Bullshit,” I said. “There’s no fucking way it was her first. How old is she again? Twenty-five?”
“Twenty-three.”
“There’s no way,” I repeated. “Even if she’d never had one with a guy, you know damn well she would have masturbated by this age.”
“She didn’t know what was happening,” Dane said. “When I was touching her, she looked right at me and asked what was happening to her.”
I stared silently at Dane as he rubbed his fingers against his temple in a gesture I recognized well. “She’s a virgin, Mason. I’m sure of it.”
“Well, shit.”
“Yeah,” Dane said. “We can’t go any further with this.”
“Damn right, we can’t,” I said. “Listen, I know we were both excited by her innocence but there’s a difference between being shy and innocent and being a goddamn virgin.”
“I know.”
“We aren’t the type to deflower the blushing virgin so don’t even start getting any ideas.”
“I know,” Dane repeated.
“Not that it wouldn’t be fucking amazing to show her how to please a man. She’s naturally submissive, did you notice?”
“Yes.”
“Really submissive. Could you imagine how she’d look restrained to the bed? Clamps on those gorgeous nipples of hers and a collar around her throat?”
“Mason,” Dane’s voice was strangled, and he pulled at the front of his pants, “we have a meeting. Stop talking about this.”
“You’re right. We have to stay away from her. Keep it strictly professional from now on.”
“Yeah,” Dane grunted.
I glanced at him. “Can you?”
He nodded and then scowled at me when I arched my eyebrows in disbelief. “I can, Mason. Now, c’mon, let’s get this fucking meeting over with so I can go home and have a cold shower.”
Chapter Three
Naomi
“Naomi? Come into the family room, please.” My mother’s voice called down the hallway.
I groaned inwardly and slipped out of my shoes. “Give me a minute.”
“No,” my father barked. “Get in here.”
Leaving my jacket on to cover my tea-stained shirt, I entered the family room. My father was sitting in his chair and my mother was hovering next to the couch.
“You’re home early,” she said.
“Um, it wasn’t busy at work,” I said. “My boss said I could leave early.”
“Sit down, Naomi,” my father said.
I sat on the couch. My mother’s face was pale and uneasy.
“What’s wrong?” I said.
“Nothing’s wrong,” my father said.
I stared silently at him until he looked away. “You’re quitting your job tomorrow.”
“What? No, I – I can’t.”
His gaze returned to mine, his nostrils flaring and anger flickering in his eyes at my disobedience. “You can and you will.”
“But… but the money,” I said. “I know money is tight right now and I know my paycheque helps. Here.” I dug the money from my wallet and held it out.
My mother drifted forward and took the wad of cash, handing it to my father who made it disappear into his pocket.
“You’re quitting your job tomorrow, Naomi, and there will be no further discussion on it.”
“No,” I said. “I won’t.”
My father’s eyes widened, and he turned to my mother. “See, Alice? I told you this would happen.”
“Josiah, you have to tell her. She�
��s going to find out,” my mother said.
“Find out what?” There was a very bad feeling rising in my stomach. “What’s going on?”
My father nodded to my mother and she said, “Naomi, your father – I mean, we – are having a bigger financial problem then you think.”
“So, then I should keep working,” I said. “The money is -”
“It’s not enough,” my mother said. “Satan has been hard at work in this household. Your father is a good man but, like all men, not completely immune to temptation.”
“What are you talking about?” I said.
“You father owes a debt to Deacon Dennison,” my mother replied.
“The head deacon of the church?” I frowned at her in confusion. “How?”
“Your father was tempted into gambling and he, unfortunately, spent a great deal of money. Deacon Dennison loaned us the money we needed to pay our bills and now he’s requesting his loan be paid in full. Fortunately for us, he’s willing to accept a different form of payment.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
My mother licked her lips. “Deacon Dennison is looking for a wife.”
“So?” I said. “What does that have to do with us?”
My mother didn’t answer. My entire body went cold as sudden understanding flooded through me.
“No,” I whispered through lips that had gone numb. “You wouldn’t.”
“Deacon Dennison is a well-respected man in the church and will treat you well,” my mother said.
“He’s Dad’s age and – and fat and ugly!” I shouted.
My mother flinched, and my father jumped up from his chair. “Do not speak of your elders in such a manner, Naomi!”
“Are you kidding me?” I was still shouting. “You’re selling me off to some perverted old man in order to pay your gambling debts and you expect me to be respectful?”
He strode across the room and I cried out when he slapped me across the face. My head flew back, and I cupped my stinging cheek as he glared at me. “Keep your mouth shut, Naomi!”
“Josiah, please,” my mother said, her voice high with anxiety, “you must be calm.”
My father grabbed me by the shoulders. “You will marry Deacon Dennison, Naomi. Do you hear me? If you don’t, we’ll lose our home. We’ll lose everything and it will be your fault.”
“How is it my fault that you gambled away -”
He shook me again, making me wince. “I will not have my child speak to me this way! You will do as I tell you! Or are you so selfish you wish to see your mother living on the streets, begging for food and money, perhaps selling her body to any man who will take her?”
My cheek throbbed and burned as my mother paced behind us.
“Do you?” my father roared.
“No.”
He released me and smoothed his hair down. “This will be a good match, Naomi. You’ll see.”
“How much?” I asked dully.
“What?”
“How much did you sell your own daughter for?”
My father’s face reddened, and he clenched his hands into tight fists. “That’s none of your business.”
“Tell me.”
“Twenty-five grand.”
My mouth dropped open and I stared wordlessly at him. I flinched when he reached out, but he only stroked the top of my head. “Tomorrow morning your mother will drive you to work and you will quit your job. Deacon Dennison will be dropping by in the afternoon to meet with you. You will be respectful and obedient and make a good impression. Do you understand?”
I nodded again, huddling against the couch as my father held out his hand. “Give me your purse.”
“What?”
“Give me your purse.”
I handed it over and he gave it to my mother. “Lock this in our room.”
My plan to wait until they fell asleep then jump in my car and drive away, faded as my mother carried my purse out of the room.
“You’re making a sacrifice for your family, Naomi,” my father said. “Our Lord will be very pleased, and you will find your reward in the Kingdom of Heaven.”
I didn’t reply and my father’s face twisted into something ugly and cruel. “You are dismissed.”
I jumped up and ran to my room as loud sobs broke from my throat.
* * *
Dane
I ignored the soft knock on my office door. It was almost seven thirty and I was standing anxiously at the window, scanning the employee parking lot for Naomi’s familiar form. She hadn’t arrived yet and my stomach was churning with nerves. What if she never returned? What if Mason and I had frightened her so badly that she simply walked away.
She won’t. She begged for her job yesterday, remember? She won’t just quit.
There was another soft knock and I shouted irritably for them to come in.
“Mr. Wilson?”
Naomi’s low voice made my cock harden. I whipped around, relief flooding through me. “Good morning, Naomi.”
She stood in front of my desk, keeping her eyes on the floor. “Mr. Wilson, I’m sorry, I have to -”
“What happened to your face?” I started around the desk, stopping when she backed away.
“Nothing,” she said.
“Bullshit. It’s bruised. What happened, Naomi?”
She ignored my question. “I’m sorry but I’m here to give you my resignation.”
Panic flowed through me. “No.”
She blinked at me, her lovely blue eyes were already filling with tears, and stammered, “W-what?”
“No, I’m not accepting your resignation.”
“You… you have to,” she whispered.
“No, I fucking don’t.” I picked up my phone and dialed Mason’s extension.
“Mason, I need you. Now,” I barked when he answered. I hung up without waiting for his reply.
“Mr. Wilson, please, you need to take this.” She was holding out a piece of paper, her hand shaking visibly.
“Yesterday you were begging for your job and today you’re quitting. Tell me why.”
“I – I can’t,” she said.
“Yes, you can.” I started toward her, my gut clenching when she skittered away from me.
“I really can’t.” Now the tears were dripping down her face, and I breathed a sigh of relief when Mason skidded into the room.
“Dane? What’s wrong?”
He stared in surprise at Naomi before closing the door and walking toward her. “Sweetheart? What happened to your cheek?”
“She’s quitting,” I announced. My hands white knuckled the back of my office chair, and I gritted my teeth as Mason made a soft soothing noise.
“Oh, sweetheart, no. Don’t quit. What happened yesterday was our fault, not yours. We won’t let it happen again, okay?”
He eased his arm around her shoulders – she wasn’t afraid of him I thought morosely – and led her to the couch.
“I’m not quitting because of what happened yesterday,” she said.
Mason glanced at me as he sat Naomi down on the couch. I started toward them and he shook his head minutely. He was right. If I tried to sit down it would just make her more nervous, but fuck was it a punch to the gut knowing that I frightened her.
“Then why are you quitting?” he said in a gentle tone I’d never be able to mimic.
“I can’t tell you,” she said.
“Of course, you can. Naomi,” he placed his finger under her chin and tilted her face to his, “tell us why you’re quitting.”
Her bottom lip trembled. “My father is making me quit.”
“You’re twenty-three years old,” I said. “You’re a little old to be letting your father tell you what to do.”
She flinched, and Mason glared at me. I took another step back. I shouldn’t have admonished her, but I was feeling uncharacteristically panicky and uncertain, and I had no idea how to process it.
“You don’t understand.” Her voice was flat and dull. “Men li
ke you couldn’t possibly understand.”
“Then help us understand,” Mason said. “Tell us everything.”
“My mother is waiting downstairs for me,” she said. “I don’t have time.”
“Yes, you do, sweetheart,” Mason coaxed. “Tell us.”
She hesitated and then said, “My father is very religious. We belong to a church that is actually a cult.”
I swore under my breath and Mason glared at me when Naomi flinched. “Go on, sweetheart.”
“When I was twenty, my older sister, Joy, started disobeying. She snuck out at night, she met up with – with boys, and she started drinking and having sex. My father sent her away. He married her off to a man who specialized in disciplining women who had strayed from the path of God. Joy was his fifth wife.”
“Fuck,” I snarled as Mason rubbed Naomi’s arm.
She stared at her hands. “I’m a good girl but I knew it was only a matter of time before my father married me off as well. There’s a boy at our church, Jeremiah, and he was interested in courting me, but I didn’t like him. He reminded me too much of my father.”
She rubbed her hands together like they were cold. “It’s very important that we marry and have babies and at twenty-three, I’m already much older than most of the single girls in our church. I figured that my father would force me to court Jeremiah, but he hasn’t pushed me too much on it. I thought it was because I was working, you know? I convinced my parents to let me get a job and they agreed to it because they needed money. I didn’t know at the time, but my father has a – a gambling problem.”
Mason pulled her a little closer as she said, “I lied in the interview. I said I knew the computer system, but I really didn’t. It was the only way I could think to get the job. I’m sorry for lying.”
She peeked at me and I said, “It’s fine, baby.”
“My parents make me give them my paycheque, but I keep some of it. Every pay I hide a couple hundred dollars in my room. In another few months, I would have had enough for a rent deposit on an apartment. I would be free.”
Her voice broke and Mason kissed her forehead as she started to sob. “Only last night my father informed me that I have to pay back a debt he owes to the head deacon of our church. He’s fifty and balding and ugly and gross.”
