by Iona Rose
I hurry back to the conference room, my pussy dripping wet at the thought of what’s going to happen in there. I push the door back open and go inside, closing it behind me. “That went well,” I say, pretending like I have no idea why Ashton asked me to return.
He looks at me, his eyes dark and intense with lust. He doesn’t speak, he just comes towards me, already unbuttoning his trousers. He reaches me and hoists my skirt up over my hips and then he picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist and he slams me against the inside of the door, a good way to stop anyone from walking in on us. It’s like he read my mind earlier when I fantasized about what I’d like to do to him.
He pushes my panties roughly to one side and then he enters me in one long, hard thrust and I bite my lip to keep from moaning as he fills me. He kisses me hard as he starts to pound into me.
Aware that we have to be quick, we don’t hold back. We were both already turned on, already on the edge of this, and within minutes, I am orgasming hard. I throw my head back, pressing it against the door as pleasure assaults me. Ashton doesn’t slow down for even a second, keeping the waves of pleasure coming.
He nuzzles his face against my neck, kissing me and nipping on my skin between his teeth. I feel his cock pulsing inside of me and he comes hard, spurting into me. He holds me in place for a moment as we both coast down from our orgasms and then he sets me down on the ground. I grin at him as I pull my skirt down and put my panties right.
He fastens his pants. “Well, that’s not usually how these meetings end!” He laughs.
“I damned well hope not!” I laugh back.
Ashton pulls me close again and kisses me, a tender kiss. “That was really fucking hot,” he whispers. “And it was only a warm up for tonight.” He picks the contracts up and exits the conference room.
This leaves me wanting more. I’ve just come and already I’m tingling again, ready for more. I don’t know what Ashton has planned for tonight, but I know how it’s going to end.
I leave the conference room with my notes and walk back towards my office. I can barely keep the dreamy smile off my face. I duck into the bathroom beside the conference room, take a wet and dry towel to clean myself up. I then check in the mirror to see if my hair is all over the place. It’s not too bad and running my fingers through it easily tames a few wispy strands. There’s not much I can do with my pink, swollen lips, so I just have to hope no one notices them. They probably won’t. Things always seem more noticeable to yourself. At least that’s what I tell myself.
I start to think I’ve gotten it wrong. Maybe my pink and slightly swollen lips are way more noticeable than I thought as I walk down the glass corridor towards my office. It seems everyone in every office I pass looks at me as I pass by. A few grin, a few shake their heads. No one meets my eye, not even when I wave to them. I get a few half-hearted waves in return and nothing more.
What the fuck? Even if my lips are noticeably swollen, I think this reaction is a little bit over the top. Oh God, my skirt is tucked into my panties at the back isn’t it? I subtly run my hands over my skirt and find that it’s not. I am relieved about that, but I’m still confused about all of the looks.
I reach the secretary’s cubicles. They’re all gathered around one computer, looking at the screen. They’re giggling and pointing at the screen. Karen clicks her mouse and they all gasp.
“Afternoon ladies. What are you all looking at?” I ask.
The conversation and the giggling dies instantly. They all scurry back to their seats, their expressions like rabbits caught in headlights.
All except Beatrice who gives me a sickly smile. “Just something someone sent to us,” she says.
It’s clear from their reaction to my appearance that it’s something they shouldn’t be looking at while at work. Although I want to be let in on the joke, it’s obvious they don’t want to show me whatever it is, and I don’t ask again. I don’t want them to think I’m trying to get information out of them to feed back to Ashton and get them into trouble.
“Ok, well catch you all later,” I say awkwardly.
Chapter Thirty-six
Elena
As I walk away, I can hear them getting back up again. Whatever had their attention very much still has it. I shrug it off. Let them have their private joke. I don’t need them. I have Ashton and what we do in private is much more entertaining than some meme or cat video or something else they shouldn’t be looking at while working.
I reach my office and go inside. I close the door, although it does nothing to hide me. I grab my handbag and pull a mirror out. My lips are barely pink anymore and any hint of swelling has gone down. There’s no way everyone was looking at them. I’m being paranoid. They were just focused on their work, that’s why they weren’t looking at me as I passed their offices.
I shrug it off and pull my phone out, switching it back on. Instantly, it beeps. I think about ignoring it, but I see Ashton’s name flashing up with an email. The time stamp is from when he was out of the meeting. I guess I wasn’t the only one thinking hot thoughts. He’s sent me something, an email, expecting me to pick it up there and then. He must have ducked back to his office after talking to Sandra.
I turn to my computer. The email has come to my work email address and it’ll be quicker to just read it on the computer. I smile as I open it. The smile fades when I see the first line of the email.
Elena Woods. Slut.
What? That’s not sexy. How can Ashton think I would find that sexy? I tell myself not to be so uptight. Some women like stuff like that, but I honestly thought Ashton would know I’m not into being degraded.
I scroll down and I see the first picture I sent him. Its caption reads dirty whore. I should just close the thing and talk to him later, telling him I’m not into that shit, but I don’t. I keep scrolling. It’s like a car crash site. I don’t want to look at it, but I just can’t look away.
The rest of the pictures I sent him are all in the email, each with another degrading caption. The email ends with a little paragraph about how sending unsolicited nudes is never going to work, and will only end up in me embarrassing myself.
I shake my head. This is so far from the sexy mark that I’m actually starting to question how well I really know this new Ashton. Clearly, he doesn’t know me very well. I go to close out the email and I freeze, my hand hovering in the air.
The CC box has two words in it. Two words that make my blood run cold and bile rise in my throat. Copy all.
The words Ashton uses to send out memos to the full fucking office. It all makes sense now. Why no one would look me in the eye. Why they all looked uncomfortable. The smirks and the head shaking. And the secretaries. They weren’t looking at cat videos. They were looking at me. Fucking hell, no wonder Beatrice looked so damned smug.
I am shaking and waves of nausea roll over me. Ashton hasn’t changed one bit. This has all been a game to him. And this time, he’s broken me in style. He made me fall in love with him, with an idea of him, and then he did — this. The whole office has seen my most intimate pictures. They all know exactly what he thinks of me.
I want to get up and run from the office, but I’m not sure my legs will hold me right now. What do I do? Do I call HR? Do I call the police? What would be the point? It wouldn’t change the way I feel. I feel used, dirty. But most of all, I feel heartbroken. How can anyone be so fucking cruel? It’s not even so much the pictures, it’s the words. Words that are always directed at women when someone wants to belittle them. Words that hurt me deep inside. And the way Ashton did it hurts like hell. I can’t believe I thought he had changed. I can’t believe I fell for him.
My eyes settle on the opening line of the email again. Elena Woods. Slut. It should read Elena Woods. Fucking idiot. I shake my head, trying to shake the image away. I close my eyes, but that makes the room spin, and I open them again. I see the words again and I feel a sharp pain in my stomach as it cramps and I retch. I scoot backwards and reach down, gr
abbing my bin just in time as my lunch comes back up.
Hot bile sears my throat and tears fill my eyes. I retch again as my body tries to purge itself of what I have just seen. It’s no use. Nothing can change this. Nothing can make me unsee this. I keep retching and throwing up until my stomach is empty, and still, it cramps, making me emptily retch over the bin.
“Elena? Are you all right?”
It’s Ashton. He’s fucking here, standing in my office door, full of fake concern. Does he think I haven’t seen it? Does he think I’ll laugh at his joke? Or is he just here for the final humiliation?
I don’t want to say anything to him. I don’t want to react to his sick mind games and let him know that once again, he has hurt me, broken me inside. I look up, keeping my face blank, ready to tell him I’m just fine. I see him looking at me. His sexy eyes, his sensual lips, lips that have explored every inch of my body. I am seething with anger and hatred and I know I’m not going to be able to hold myself back.
“Elena?” Ashton says again, stepping into my office and closing the door behind him.
“How could you?” I hiss at him.
“How could I what?” he asks.
Great. He’s playing dumb. He wants to hear me say it? Then fine, I’ll say it. “How could you betray me like this? What the fuck did I ever do to you that was so bad? Are you really so fucked up in the head that you think this shit is okay?” I point towards my computer as I spit out the words.
Ashton looks so totally confused, that for a moment, I want to believe he has no idea what I’m talking about. But of course he does. He’s the only person who had those pictures, and the email came from his personal email address.
He steps closer and looks at my screen. “What the fuck?” he exclaims as he peers at the screen and its horrible message. He leans over me to scroll down.
I scoot backwards again, getting to my feet and stepping around him, going to the other side of the desk. I can’t bear to be so close to him, not after this.
“Elena you don’t honestly think I sent this, do you?” He looks up at me, his eyes begging me to believe him.
But I don’t. He’s taken me for a fool one time too many already and I’m not about to fall into this trap again. “Who else would do it Ashton? Who else had those pictures? And who else has access to your email account?”
He just stares at me.
I feel some of the humiliation turning to anger. How does he think he can pull this stunt and get away with it? “Answer me!” I scream.
“No one,” he says finally. “No one else has the photos and no one else has my email password. But Elena, look at the time stamp. I was in the meeting with you and Bill when this went out. And I didn’t have my phone with me remember?”
“Right. You forgot your phone,” I say, putting air quotes around the word forgot. “That was a nice little display. Pretending not to have your phone with you, stepping out of the room and sending this shit. And then playing innocent. How fucking stupid do you think I am Ashton?”
“I wasn’t pretending, Elena. I just stepped into my office and found my phone on my desk,” Ashton explains.
“Yeah right!” I retort.
“Look I get that you’re upset...” Ashton starts.
“Upset doesn’t even begin to cover it,” I interrupt him. “I think livid might be closer to how I’m feeling right now.”
“Right. Yes. I get that. And trust me, I’m livid myself. But I didn’t send this email. And I will get to the bottom of exactly who did,” he says.
“Save it Ashton. Save your bullshit for the next sucker who is stupid enough to let you in okay? Because I’m done. You haven’t changed a bit have you? This was your plan all along. Trick me into thinking you were different and then bam. Ruin my life.” I can feel the anger draining away now, leaving behind a horrible, empty sadness. I feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes. I don’t even bother trying to wipe them away. “Why would you do this, Ashton? Is this still about school? Because you thought I didn’t notice you? We were kids then,” I say, my voice breaking.
“It’s not like that Elena, I swear. You have it all wrong. Just give me some time to figure it all out okay?” He starts towards me.
I shake my head. “Don’t you dare even think about coming any closer to me right now,” I snap.
He stops advancing on me and raises his palms, trying to placate me. “Okay. I won’t come any closer. But you have to believe that I didn’t do this. Why would I? I know you don’t believe my feelings for you are real, but even aside from that, why would I send something like this from my own company email address? Do you have any idea how unprofessional that would be?”
“And that’s why you did it. Because anyone who doesn’t know what you’re really like would believe that wouldn’t they? They would believe you didn’t send it. Well, I see you, Ashton. I see you for exactly who you are.”
Ashton sits down hard in my chair. He shakes his head. He looks like a little boy who is totally lost.
I have to hand it to him. His performance is fucking world class. He should get an Oscar for this shit.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Elena
“I can’t believe you think so little of me that you would actually believe I sent this,” he says quietly.
I laugh then. A manic, humorless laugh, but a laugh all the same.
Ashton looks at me in surprise.
I shake my head. “And I can’t believe you’re turning this around and playing the victim. Yeah fucking boo-hoo Ashton.”
Ashton leaps up suddenly and storms towards me.
I shrink back, sure he’s going to lash out at me. The hurt look on his face stops me short.
He shakes his head. “You’re still afraid of me aren’t you?”
“I wasn’t until I saw this, but now I have no idea what you’re capable of anymore,” I admit.
“I’m going back to my office. That’s all I was trying to do. I’m going to get to the bottom of this and prove I wasn’t the one who sent this, Elena,” he says.
“You know what? Don’t bother,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m sure you can concoct some story that sounds believable, but I’m done falling for your lies, so tell them to someone else okay. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to hear from you, and I don’t even want to look at you. We’re done Ashton and I quit.” I pick up my hand bag and drop my phone into it. I get my jacket and put it on.
“Please calm down, Elena,” Ashton urges.
I ignore him. I’m not getting into this again. I’ve said everything that needed to be said, and I’m not going to stand here and try to defend myself while Ashton makes it sound like I’m being hysterical.
“Go home, relax, do whatever you need to do. And when you’re ready, we’ll talk,” he says.
“Never. But you win, Ashton. You did what you never quite managed as a kid. You broke me. Bravo. Go crack open your champagne and revel in your glory, because sooner or later, everyone in your life will see through the act and you’ll be left all alone.”
I leave the office before he can say or do anything to try and stop me. I walk down the corridor with my head held high, making a point of holding onto whatever tiny scraps of dignity I have left. I can feel myself shriveling up inside as I pass the secretaries, but I don’t let it show. That’s one thing I learned at school; break on the inside, but put your game face on. I feel their eyes on me. I debate ignoring them, but I decide against it. Instead, I turn my head towards them and smile. “Night ladies,” I say, real nice.
“Ummm, night Elena,” Sandra manages.
I keep walking, not looking back. I’m glad I spoke to them, because keeping quiet out of shame wouldn’t have protected me, it would have protected them. I wanted to remind them that the girl they’ve been whispering about and laughing at is the same girl who was starting to become friends with them. I want them to feel ashamed of themselves.
“It’s pretty fucking shitty what he did to her if
you ask me,” I hear Karen say just before I’m out of ear shot.
I smile to myself. It’s a tiny victory, but it’s mine.
As I approach the lobby, I hear voices and I slow down, sure they’re talking about me.
“There’ll be hell about those pictures you know. She’ll sue for sexual harassment or whatever,” a male voice says.
“So she should,” a female voice replies.
I don’t recognize their voices, and I know I should show myself, but apparently, I haven’t suffered quite enough humiliation for one day and I want to hear what they have to say about me.
“It’s double standards though isn’t it?” the male voice goes on. “I mean if a guy sends an unsolicited dick pic and the woman he sends it to plasters it over the internet, everyone applauds her. But a woman sends those pics and a guy exposes her as a sex pest, and somehow, she’s still the victim. It’s not right.”
This is getting worse by the second. The insults in the email were bad enough, but that last paragraph really sealed my fate. Even the ones who are sympathetic to me are going to view me as some desperate loser who threw herself at her boss and got rejected.
I have to get out of here. I can feel tears forming and I know I won’t be able to hold them in much longer. I step out into the lobby.
The man who was speaking blushes when he sees me.
I smile at him, although it hurts me to do it. “You know something? I could show you a string of texts that prove that nothing I sent Ashton was unsolicited. But I won’t. Because unlike some people, I actually respect people’s privacy. Have a good evening.”
I don’t wait to see his reaction. I just go to the elevator.
The receptionist picks up the phone and starts talking. It didn’t ring and she didn’t dial any number. She just doesn’t want to have to deal with me.
It suits me. I don’t want to have to deal with her either.
