“Ummm,” she hummed, eyes still closed. “Ummm.”
But the brunette needed more than just a panty rub. Slowly my little vixen peeled off her underwear with delicate fingers, daintily stepping out of the soaked lace before dropping the cloth on the countertop. Oh god, what I wouldn’t give to have those panties on a lonely night, smelling them, sniffing them, flicking my tongue against the crotch.
But the girl wasn’t wasting any time. With her panties down, she lightly traced a finger over her labia, caressing those puffy lips, stroking her sensitive flesh. Her finger grazed her clit and the brunette moaned, the sensation shooting quivers straight to her fingertips and toes, making her wobble in the stiletto heels. And slowly, oh so slowly, she pulled her vagina lips apart to gaze at herself in the mirror. Oh god, oh god. I could see everything from my position at the door, everything was reflected in the big mirror, her pink channel steaming, the pulsing swollen flesh glazed and beautiful, her hole so tempting and small contrasted with her big clit, aroused and poking out stiffly.
And giggling slightly to herself, the brunette began playing with her nub. I watched as she rubbed gently with her finger at first, moving up and down, just slight caresses before rotating her wrist and beginning a circular motion. The pressure increased, her moans becoming louder as her finger went faster and faster. And I watched like a hungry dog as her other hand dipped lower, fingering her hole as she kept up the clit massage.
Suddenly she slipped her index in, just up to her first knuckle. The penetration must have been amazing because she cried out loudly, her breasts flushed, tossing her hair back as orgasm overcame the brunette. Her curls shook, shoulders heaving as electric shocks ran straight from her cunt all over her body even as her hands kept pleasuring herself, moving furiously at her crotch, the cream running wetly down her thigh, a long trail descending to a shapely calf.
And as the brunette calmed, her breathing becoming even again, her breasts rising heavily up and down in the mirror, I decided to make my move. Not losing a beat, I stepped fully into the restroom then, my big form dark, ominous in my suit, my expression bland despite the hard-on that was clearly visible.
“Care to do that again, little girl?” I asked. “Because it’s an order … from the boss.”
CHAPTER SIX
Tammy
I shrieked when a deep voice interrupted my self-play. Oh my god, what was going on? My eyes popped open to see an enormous man, his face in shadows, standing not ten feet away from me in the women’s bathroom.
I screamed again, hastily pulling my skirt down, my fumbling fingers buttoning up my shirt. But it’s not so easy to get dressed when an intruder’s in the room and to my mortification, I tipped over, wobbly and off-balance in my high heels to land with an oomph on the bathroom floor. The air shot out of me with a gasp, I was like a fish gasping on the cold tile, breathless and stunned.
The big man just laughed and strode over.
“Need a hand baby girl?” he asked, bending over to offer me a big, square grip. I got a good look at him then. He was gorgeous, tall with black hair and gleaming blue eyes. Everything about him screamed money from the perfectly cut hair to the thousand dollar suit. Even his shoes were perfect, leather wing-tips that positively glowed in the low light of the bathroom.
But I was too proud to take the hand that was offered. Despite the fact that I was a mess of jiggly curves and sprawling limbs, I managed to scramble into a seated position, pushing my unruly brown hair out of my face, still gasping and red-faced. I shot him a defensive look.
“You’re in the women’s restroom you know,” I said icily.
The man just threw back his head and laughed, showing off a strong jaw and a perfect, Crest-white smile.
“I know,” he rumbled with a grin, “but ask me if it bothers me. Ask if it bothers me at all,” he said softly, looking at me closely.
And I scrambled to my feet then. Damn, why hadn’t I worn something nicer today? My clothes, although clean, were a little threadbare and the damned skirt was super tight. I paused with trembling fingers to button my blue blouse trying to look as dignified as possible despite what had just happened.
“I wasn’t aware that strange men felt comfortable in the women’s restroom,” I continued, doing my best to look haughty. With self-conscious hands, I raked my fingers through my curls, brushing the locks behind my ears with soft strokes. The man stared at me, his eyes eating up every move like he was a lion stalking its prey.
“I’m not strange man,” he said casually, his voice as soft as silk. “See? I have an ID badge, just like you.”
And my heart dropped as he proffered a plastic ID card from his pocket. Oh shit, it was true. I caught a glimpse of his face and the company logo. It wasn’t fair. Even in his ID photo he was jaw-droppingly handsome, the planes of his face chiseled and cut, the blue eyes piercing.
So I took a deep breath.
“Well, can I ask what you’re doing in the basement?” I said pointedly. “I work on this floor, I’ve been here two months now and I’ve never seen you before.”
The man just cocked his head at me.
“How interesting because I was thinking of transferring to this level,” he said casually. “For the right reasons of course,” he added meaningfully.
The right reasons? What did that mean? My face flamed but I wanted to get this conversation over with as soon as possible.
“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do,” I said busily. “Chained to the desk, the corporate rat race and all that.”
And the big man just quirked an eyebrow at me.
“Is that so? Chained to the desk?” he drawled. “Maybe I better go and see what you’ve been up to. But not before you tell me how often you’re in here playing your … ah, games,” he said with a sly smile.
If I was pink before then I was a fire engine red now. My face felt like it was steaming, my cheeks almost melting from the humiliation, my heart inside dying from shame. But I tried to act casual, blow off his question.
“Oh that was nothing,” I said carelessly, quickly sweeping my hair into a neat ponytail. “I just do that sometimes because … because … because my job is so stressful,” I rushed.
The big man quirked an eyebrow at me again.
“Stressful?” he drawled. “Well maybe I can help with that. What was your name again?”
There was no way in hell I was telling him my name. The less he knew about me the better.
“Um … it’s Candy Kane … uh, Sheffield,” I mumbled, looking down at the floor before snapping my head up and looking him straight in the eye. I was so bad at lying, I’d read all these books on how to control your body language to look believable and yet at the moment of truth all my study had failed me. Oh god, oh god.
And the dark man wasn’t fooled at all, instead laughing out loud, throwing his head back and guffawing, so boisterous that the walls of the restroom echoed with his laughter.
“Little girl, I think you can do better than that,” he growled. “Seriously, tell me your real name. Don’t make me ask for your badge,” he threatened, half-serious, half-joking.
And I fingered my ID card nervously, the plastic suddenly feeling like a weight around my neck, a rock dragging me down in the ocean. I was going to drown come hell or high water, might as well tell the truth. Besides, I’m not sure what it was but I felt curiously compelled to obey this imposing stranger. Maybe it was his magnetic presence, the way he was so commanding, the authority in his voice, ringing strong and true. So I answered honestly this time.
“I’m Tammy Jones,” I whispered to the floor, not looking in his eyes. “Please don’t tell anyone. Please don’t tell my boss because I really need this job.”
And the handsome man just threw his head back and laughed again, so hard this time it was positively insulting.
“Oh honey, I think it’s too late for that,” he drawled, his face breaking into a smile. “Because I am your boss. Don’t you work for Luxor Corp
.? I’m Nick Martin, CEO and Chairman.”
And I gasped again. CEO and Chairman? This man was definitely my boss, if not my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss. And one thing was certain, absolutely crystal clear. I was fired, beyond a doubt.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nick
The shock on the brunette’s face was flattering, her eyes growing wide, her breasts heaving up and down with quick indrawn gasps.
“CEO?” she whispered weakly. “Chairman?”
I nodded.
“Yep, always have been,” I said with a hint smugness to my voice. “In fact I founded Luxor, have been CEO since I was twenty-five when this place was nothing more than me and a couple admin staff.”
And the girl grew white as a sheet then.
“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, “I know what you saw wasn’t … professional,” she choked, “but … but …”
“But there’s no excuse, is there?” I finished smoothly, hiding my amusement. “There’s no excuse for masturbating out in the open. You didn’t even lock the restroom door,” I chided her gently.
The girl went from sheet white to beet red. I loved the brunette’s coloring, the way she was so sensitive to everything I said, her expressions open, trusting, like reading a book. She couldn’t even lie worth shit and I ate it up, her innocence and naiveté refreshing, like a cake to be devoured whole.
Because life had just given me an opening and I was going to use it. I didn’t get to where I am by being the nice guy and letting other folks take the lead. I got to where I am by being the aggressor, pressing every advantage, working every angle and an amazing opportunity had just landed on my doorstep.
“So is this what you do to uphold the Luxor name?” I drawled, my voice a low growl, like a predator teasing its prey. “You touch yourself when you think no one’s looking?”
“Yes! I mean no!” cried the girl, flushing again, her boobs heaving up and down, fingering her ID card nervously. “It’s just been stressful like I said, I have so much work and I’m in school full-time too, it’s really rough, I needed some release.”
My eyebrows shot up.
“Well maybe I can help you with that,” I said silkily. “I am the boss after all. Let’s head back to your office.” I’d deduced by now that her office was the one I’d passed with the bare walls and dinky desk. Shit, how sad, she was alone down here all day in that tiny cubby, nary a soul in sight. Truthfully, I could see why she was in the bathroom feeling herself up. It was goddamn depressing in the basement with the fluorescent lights, a hundred degrees next to the boiler and the random cranking sounds of various machinery. Fuck, I would have been jacking off ten times a day if I were stuck here, but fortunately I’ve got a penthouse in a luxury office space just a couple blocks away.
Without saying a word, the brunette walked slowly to the door of the bathroom and led me outside into the hallway. Sure enough, her soft footfalls stopped at the dinky office.
“Anyone else around during the day?” I asked casually, looking around. The hallways were empty, a little spooky from the lack of human contact.
“No,” the brunette replied quietly, trying to remain dignified. “I’m a marketing associate and they put me down here after my boss was injured. To stay out of peoples’ way, I suppose,” she added rigidly.
And I nodded thoughtfully. The brunette sat at her desk, gesturing to the chair across from her and I lowered myself into the small seat. I’m a big man with long legs and this dinky plastic thing wasn’t exactly my idea of comfortable, but that was fine. I didn’t plan on the little girl staying here much longer anyways.
Tammy took a deep breath and moved her mouse slightly, quickly switching screens with a swift Alt-Tab. But not before I saw what she’d been looking at. If I wasn’t mistaken there’d been an image of a nude couple on her monitor, a man and woman locked in an embrace, the woman’s legs spread, her ankles high in the air. My cock, which had been rock solid before, stiffened immediately into diamond-hardness, the fabric of my suit pants straining. But I wasn’t going to hide, not when I had such a delectable morsel before me. Instead, I sprawled lazily in the chair, the tent in my crotch fully visible, making the girl inhale sharply before her eyes flicked to mine, alert and aroused at once.
But I ignored her unspoken question. Lazily I asked, “What was that you were looking at? Right before you switched to this Excel spreadsheet.”
And the girl’s chin quivered a bit, her eyes becoming enormous, deep pools of caramel, fathomless. But instead of resisting, she clicked back again and I saw that my eyes hadn’t betrayed me. Tammy had been looking at some dirty porn, the type of stuff that was typical of laddie mags, the stuff that I absolutely loved. There was a woman pressed against a man, both of them nude, in the throes of lust. And the woman’s legs were spread sure, but instead of drilling the woman with his dick, the man had a dildo stuffed up her snatch, the deep pink rubber stretching those pink lips, making the woman squeal in pleasure. And fuck me, but it wasn’t just an image, it was a video. My little girl had been watching a porny sex clip at work.
“Aren’t you afraid someone’s going to catch you?” I asked pointedly, ignoring the fire in my dick, the need that was already starting to drip from the tip.
The girl paused for a moment, biting her lip.
“No one’s ever down here,” she said quietly. “Especially not at 7 a.m.”
“Yeah, but aren’t you afraid that someone’s going to come down here, someday maybe, like today?” I asked again, teasing her this time. “Like me?”
Tammy blushed prettily again.
“Mr. Martin,” she said slowly. “When I say no one comes down here, I really mean it. It’s sweltering 24/7 and mostly they just stock supplies in the basement, mops and brooms and stuff. The maintenance crew comes by sometimes but not this early. They work mostly at night,” she added, still biting her lip.
I thought for a moment.
“But even if no one comes by, aren’t you afraid that Luxor is logging all the sites you look at on your work computer?” I said gently. “You know your hard drive and monitor belong to Luxor, we’re tracking every site you visit.”
And at that, the girl flushed bright red again, now chewing at her bottom lip, working the luscious bow with her teeth.
“Um … no, I didn’t realize that,” she said shamefaced. “I had no idea,” she said in a small voice. “Are you going to fire me now?” she asked, raising her eyes to mine. “I know I deserve it, I know that you caught me um … in flagrante, and that I was looking at dirty porn sites on my computer, but I swear, I work hard and I can make this up to you,” she rushed. “I’ll absolutely work ten times harder and I’ll contribute to Luxor Corp., I promise.”
I laughed heartily again.
“Oh, I’ll make sure you make it up to me,” I drawled gently. “I don’t give away anything for free, it’s not how I operate. But say I give you a second chance,” I posed hypothetically. “How do I know you’re not hiding anything else up your sleeve? Do you have any other dirty secrets?” I asked pointedly, fixing her with a demanding stare.
And the girl chewed her lip again, thinking carefully. I could see a debate going on her head, little voices arguing this way and that before one finally won out. Slowly, the brunette reached into her purse and fished out a key. I quirked an eyebrow at her in silent question. And the girl fit the key into a lock in her desk before pulling open a drawer, the metal sliding smoothly on its riders, a whispering rasp.
“Mr. Martin,” she said slowly, “I … I’ve been keeping this at work. For my pleasure,” she stuttered.
And I stood to get a better glimpse, looking over her desk into the drawer, my cock punching to rock solid status for the third time in ten minutes. Because the drawer was chock full of sex toys, dildos, vibrators, pocket rockets, butt plugs, things I didn’t even recognize. It was practically overflowing and my eyebrows flew off my face then, dark streaks slashing my cheekbones, the air in my lungs suddenly tight.
>
“And do you use all those?” I asked silkily. “Here in the women’s restroom?”
The girl was flushed again, her boobs heaving quickly, but she nodded slowly, admitting her slutty ways.
“Like I said, I’m alone most times here and by the time I get home to the Bronx, it’s almost eleven. I’m so tired that I figured it’d be easier to pleasure myself at work,” she said weakly. “It’s wrong I know, but it was my best option.”
Honestly, this was like a dream come true. The girl was so dirty, so raunchy, keeping a stash of sex toys in her desk drawer, using them at Luxor Corp. without even locking the door. And I fucking loved it. I loved the ballsiness, the sheer sexuality pouring off the woman in waves, the fact that I was ready to run my dick in her on a second’s notice.
“Well, honey, that’s something that can be fixed,” I rumbled, still in my chair. “Stress you say? Because I can do something about that right now,” I promised. And it was true. Big changes were coming her way, huge, enormous, gigantic changes … that involved her pussy wrapped around my cock.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tammy
It was the most humiliating day of my life. To be caught literally with my panties down as I stroked myself, by Mr. CEO himself. Oh my god, I squirmed inside, my body heating up at the shame and embarrassment. And to add insult to injury, Nick Martin was hands-down gorgeous, handsome, athletic, with a physique to die for, my cunny growing wet as I stared at him.
Because I did a lot of staring. Even though I was totally disgraced, I couldn’t help but sneak a peek at him every now and then, the big man looming in my office, immaculately dressed, in total control of the situation. And I saw his hard-on, the huge tent at his crotch, his cock straining against the light wool fabric. How could I miss it after all? It was protruding like the Empire State Building and a naughty little voice in my head whispered, For me? For me, Tammy Jones?
Double Dare: A Fake Fiancee MMF Romance Page 15
