“There,” she moans. “There. Right there.”
“Here?” I ask through my smile. “Right here?”
“Yes,” she pants. “Yes.” But this time it’s a moan.
“Are you going to come, Ellie?”
“Yes,” she says, but she’s bucking her back and trying to twist away from the friction, like it’s too much to take. Like she needs relief.
She needs relief all right. But it’s not from my touch. She needs to come.
I withdraw my hand and she gasps. “What are you doing? I’m so close, Mac. I’m so close!”
I back away and she looks over her shoulder at me, like she’s going to chase me down and jump on my dick. “Be still,” I say. “I want something out of this too.”
“What?” she moans.
“I can’t fuck your pussy until we have more dates. But you never said anything about your ass.”
“No way,” she says in a loud voice. “Nope. I’ve never done that, Mac. And I never will.”
“You will beg for it right now or I’ll leave you hanging.”
She throws me a glare. “I’ll go to the bathroom and get myself off. I’m not doing that.”
“Why?” I ask, picking up a pad of butter from the breakfast cart.
Her eyes get wide as she watches. “What are you doing?”
I place the little golden packet between my palms and rub it until it gets warm and soft. “I’m going to use this as lube. Unless you’ve got some stashed in your desk. I know you don’t, because I bought the desk yesterday. I can’t fuck your ass unless we have lube.”
“You can’t fuck my ass period.”
I smile and nod. “I can always spit on it.” She shoots me a horrified look and I almost laugh. “Lie back down. You won’t get too dirty.”
“No!” she yells. “I’m not doing any of that!”
“Ellie, be calm. Just relax. You can say no any time you want. But let me show you how good it feels first. Then if you’re still not sure, I’ll back off and lick your clit until you come.”
She makes a weird face. Like she’s having some kind of internal battle.
“You don’t want to say no, Ellie. You really don’t want to miss this, I promise. When my dick is inside your ass and my hand reaches around to play with your clit, you will come so hard, my dick will ache because you’re clenching it so tight.”
She shakes her head no.
“Yes,” I say forcefully. “Just let me try and you can stop me if you hate it.” I move forward and push her down, pressing her against the desk. He legs are off the desk now, her feet on the floor again, but that’s OK. That’s just where I need them.
“Mac—”
“Shhh,” I say. “Just let me play with you for a moment. Then tell me no.” I reach between her legs and she’s so fucking wet. I pump her pussy a few times, collecting her juices on my fingers, then drag it up to her asshole. I almost don’t need the lube, but I’ve already got her thinking about the butter and I kinda like that. It’s dirty. It’s fun. And she will never look at a pad of butter the same again.
“Are you laughing?” she asks.
“Quiet,” I say, tucking my smile away as I position my cock right between her legs. It pokes her pussy and she clenches her teeth together. I know she would not tell me no if I wanted to fuck her pussy instead. She’s so damn ready. But hey, rules are rules, right?
I open the little foil packet and smear it over her asshole.
She lets out a soft sigh of air. So I do it again, pressing a little harder so it leaves a slick trail.
Then I press my finger up against her pucker and push, just a teeny, tiny bit.
“Oh, fuck.”
“Right?” I pass my dick across her ass, then let it slip down between her legs. She throws her head back like I just did something very right. Anyone can make a girl come with a dick in her pussy. But anal, yeah. That takes a little more skill.
I push my finger in a little more, my other hand still massaging her with the tip of my dick. I really wouldn’t mind licking her, but shit, I only have two hands and everything I’m doing right now feels perfect.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
“It’s not in yet.”
“Want me to try to put it in, Ellie?”
She bites her lip, her eyes closed, her face calm as I play with her.
“Ellie?”
“OK. But go very slow,” she says in a low voice.
“I will,” I say, my balls tightening with anticipation. “I promise.” I fist my cock and press the head up against her, pushing in slightly. She gasps, then her hands ball up into fists as she tries to stay calm. “Try to relax,” I say, reaching around to rub her clit. “Take deep breaths and relax. It will hurt for a moment, but I’ll go slow, and then once we get past the hard part, it will be easy and you will never say no to this again, that’s how good it will feel.”
She moans in response, her face tightening up in a grimace as I push forward.
“Ow,” she says.
I stroke her back, dragging my fingertip lightly up and down her spine. She sighs, relaxing. I push forward once again. Little gasps, short, quick breaths, and so much wiggling, I have to grab her by the shoulder to keep her in place.
“Mac,” she whines.
But then I get past that point I was telling her about. My cock eases inside her ass and she lets out a long moan.
“See,” I say, leaning down over her body, pressing my chest against her back. I lift her golden hair off her neck and kiss her there, right at her nape.
She shudders and I ease out a little, taking my time. Going slow. Then I push it back in as I slip a hand under her hip and begin rubbing my fingertips against her clit in tiny circles.
“Do you like that?” I ask.
“Mmmm,” she responds.
I strum her clit faster. “I like it too. Your ass is tight, Ellie. And your pussy is so wet.” I stick two fingers inside her as I bite her on the shoulder and her body goes stiff. This drives me crazy and I can’t hold back. I pump a little harder. A little deeper.
“Oh, shit,” she says.
I smile. “It feels so good, right?”
“Yeah,” she moans. “Yes.”
“You like this too, Ellie?” I whisper into her ear as I strum her clit faster. I press and flick it, then slide my fingers down into her pussy, pushing deeper and deeper until I can feel the pressure against my cock in her ass.
“Fuck, yes,” I say. “The next time we do this, you can lie on my stomach and I’ll use a vibrator on your pussy as my cock fucks your ass. I’ll make you scream, Ellie. I’ll make you—”
She clenches and I know it’s over.
“Oh, fuck,” she says. “Oh, fuck, yes!”
Her whole body goes still, her mouth wide open. I picture my cock inside it. Sliding against her lips as I fuck her mouth.
So many, many things I want to do with this girl.
I ride out her orgasm and when she relaxes, I pull out, lean back, and come between her shoulder blades.
She’s panting hard and I have to close my eyes for several seconds until the pleasure ebbs.
“I want more of this, Ellie. I want more. Tonight.”
Chapter Eighteen
ELLIE
I just want to collapse because holy shit. I have never had sex like that before. But… what the hell am I thinking? What kind of girl lets her boss fuck her in the ass in her office?
Me. If I was texting right now, I’d put a little smiley face after that admission.
“Here, Ellie,” Mac says, coming out of his office with a garment bag and a towel. “Stay still,” he says, draping the garment bag over my desk chair and placing the towel on my back, and begins gently cleaning me up.
It’s hot. And wet. And feels good in the complete opposite way from the sex. It feels… I don’t know. Like he cares. Like he’s not just using me for sex.
It feels that way, but it can’t possibly be that way. He’s Mr. Perfec
t, right? Perfect guys don’t fall for boring girls like me.
“So tonight?” Mac asks, tossing the towel through the open connecting door into his office.
“Tonight?” I repeat back as he helps me up. I look at the heap of clothing on the floor and realize I have to wear that to work today. “I’m going to need to go home and change.”
“No, Ellie, you won’t.” Mac picks up the garment bag and gives it a shake. “I bought you something. It doesn’t exactly say casual Friday, but I liked it.” He shrugs like he’s apologizing.
I take the bag he’s offering, drape it over the chair again, then pull the zipper down to reveal a blush-pink dress. It isn’t until I take it out that I realize what I’m holding. “Is this… Yes. Oh, my God. How much did you pay for this?”
“Eloise,” Mac says, tucking his shirt back into his pants and running his fingertips through his hair. “It’s not polite to ask.” He leans down and kisses me on the cheek. “Does Saturday have an outfit?”
Holy shit. “Um, no. I stay home on Saturdays.”
“Not this weekend you won’t,” Mac says. “I’ve got plans and they start tonight.”
Wait. Eerrrrrrrrrt.
That’s me stomping on the brakes. A weekend with him? Three days ago I didn’t even know he existed. I realize I’ve had sex with him twice and had some almost-sex two other times, so I do, in fact, appear to be a slutty whore. But I’m not a slutty whore. And while all this has been fun, I’m leaving this job in twelve days and all these office shenanigans will stop.
He’s probably going to give this office to someone else. And then that girl will have all the perks I am currently beginning to enjoy.
“Um, Mac,” I say, blinking up at him with a smile. “Normally I do stay home on Saturday and just hang out in shorts and stuff. But this weekend I’m going away. I’m sorry.”
His brows furrow so deep, they might actually meet at the bridge of his nose. “With who?”
“Well, not that it’s really your business, and I do realize that we’ve had some fun, so an explanation is necessary, but it’s confidential. You understand, right?”
“It’s Andrew Manco, isn’t it? I could tell he liked you when he called me the other day.”
Andrew? That’s actually a pretty good idea. “I can’t say one way or another. I’m sorry. I signed agreements, you know? Confidentiality things.”
“He’s so young, Ellie,” Mac says. “How old is he? Nineteen?”
I laugh. “He’s not nineteen. He’s like, twenty-two.”
Mac’s deep brow furrows are back. “You’re going out with him this weekend?”
“I can’t say, Mac. Really, I’m sorry.”
“You’re going to his home? You’ll be gone all weekend?”
“Mac,” I say, taking the absolutely gorgeous dress out of the garment bag. I know how much this dress costs. Thousands of dollars. And he just purchased it for me so he could get his way this morning and not come out of it looking like a pig. “I’m just not comfortable discussing Andrew with you, OK? I know we’ve had had this whirlwind thing going this week, but three days, OK? Three days is not a relationship. And I’m quitting—”
Mac hold up a hand to stop me. “I understand all that, and you’re right, you’re definitely a… a whirlwind.” He straightens his jacket and then nods. “So I’ll leave you to it. Have a nice weekend, Eloise. I hope you have a good time.”
He forces a weak smile as he walks back into his office and closes our connecting door.
I don’t know what to think about any of that. Or this dress. It’s such a pretty shade of blush pink. And it’s got tags on it. I don’t mind spending a hundred dollars on a dress, but two thousand? Nope. Never happening. I bet even if I found this dress in a thrift store five years from now it would still be marked out of my budget.
One problem. I don’t have a bra. I was wearing a cami today. Fridays are casual, which means no poky wire under my tits for one whole workday.
I slip the dress on anyway—what choice do I have—and realize I have another problem as well. It’s got a back zip.
Fuck.
The connecting door opens again and Mac is there mouth open like he’s going to ask me something. But instead all he says is, “Oh, hell.” He closes the door and disappears.
I smile. Because that was definitely a good, Oh, hell.
I walk over trying to stop grinning like an idiot and open the door back up. “It’s got a zip, Mac. Can you help me?”
He’s got his hand in his hair like he was just running his fingers through it. “Uh, sure.”
I bite my lip as I turn and pull my hair away from my back. The zip is resting on the small of my back, and as soon as his fingers touch my skin, I get a prickle of excitement. He pulls the zipper closed slowly and then stops right as it reaches the widest part of my back. I have a moment of panic that the dress won’t fit, but he adjusts the fabric and finishes.
I look over my shoulder and smile. “It’s a double zip. So the bottom part unzips upward.” Right between my thighs, I don’t add. “Can you do that part too?”
He squints his blue eyes at me, then his gaze falls down the length of my backside. It’s a pencil dress, I realize. And it’s hugging my shape like a glove. “No,” Mac says.
“Excuse me?” I laugh.
He’s shaking his head. “No. This is the wrong dress for work. Is Andrew picking you up from work?”
“I told you I can’t talk about it.”
“Well, that zipper was not meant to be revealing, Eloise. It’s a decoration only.”
“I don’t think so, Mac. I think it’s so I can move my legs.” I shimmy forward and the dress does its best to keep my knees tightly together. “If this was a night out I could see it. It’s sexy, right? The way I have to take these small steps. But at work, Mac? Do you really want me to be squirming around the office today wiggling my hips with every step?”
He looks conflicted as he scratches his chin and studies the dilemma.
“It’s either unzip me a little or have me wiggle all day. Your choice.”
He unzips just enough to release the tight fabric from my knees. “Thank you,” I say. “And this was fun. So thanks for that too.” I walk back into my office and he follows, leaning against the doorjamb.
He frowns at me. “What time will you be home Sunday?” I pause for a moment, wondering how far I should let this ruse go, but before I can answer, he says, “You are coming home Sunday? You’ll be here for pencil skirt and button-down shirt Monday?”
“Are you planning on ripping my clothes off me again on Monday?”
“I’m not sure, Ellie. Is this thing with Andrew serious?”
Wow. I think he might be jealous. Of a kid! Whom I would never, ever date. I think of Andrew as a little brother. “We’re friends,” I say. “And I care about him a lot.” Which is true. He’s one of my case studies in the book, so I’m invested in his success.
“OK.” Mac sighs. “Well, I’ll call the caterers and have them come take the breakfast cart away.”
“Caterers? I thought this stuff came from the cafeteria?”
“No,” Mac says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. I think he’s disappointed that I ruined his weekend plans. “What kind of guy would I be if I didn’t go all out for you?”
“Well,” I say. “I don’t know what to think about all this, Mac. I’m going to be honest. So it’s a good thing we’re not going out this weekend. It’s too much, too fast.”
“Got it,” Mac says. “If you don’t want to be here when they come clean up, you can go and come back later. Have a great weekend, Ellie. I’ll talk to you next week.”
This time when he closes the door I know he’s not coming back. My heart has a little ache in it. Like I should call after him. Fess up and just be honest.
But I don’t. Because I need to think about all this before things get too far and I can’t turn back.
Chapter Nineteen
MAC
This is the longest weekend of my life. First of all, Friday sucked. Sucked with a capital S. The dress I gave Ellie looked like it was painted on.
Note to self. Next time I buy her a replacement outfit for work, make it the shapeless trousers she came in wearing.
Oh, that dress was a fabulous idea if she decided to spend the weekend with me. I was going to fake our way through a few more hours at work and then whisk her off to dinner, a show downtown, and then back to my place for a weekend of dirty sex, room-service breakfasts, and elegant restaurants at night.
Clearly, I am as delusional as she is.
Which brings me back to Heath’s phone.
I cannot stop reading her messages.
Look at this nursery. If we have a boy his room will be pale blue like this.
It came with seven attached pictures of a nursery filled with everything a baby might want, complete with Baby Boy Ellie and Heath combination Photoshopped in.
The girl’s nursery was light pink and yellow, and yes, she had a stand-in Heath-and-Ellie baby for those pictures too.
She can’t really have been serious about Heath. He’s such a fuckup. And even when she was messaging him normal stuff, before he got sent to China two months ago and she went off the delusional Mr. Perfect deep end, he did not show even the slightest interest in Ellie. Not like that, anyway. His messages were all business.
Can you get so-and-so on such-and-such show? Can they fly in Wednesday instead of Thursday? Can you be in the meeting I have with my father to explain what we’re doing with the airport budget?
Not even once did he thank her. And sure, it’s possible he could’ve thanked her in person, but knowing Heath the way I do, he didn’t.
And the goddamned puppies. Old English Sheepdogs. It’s like every kid’s dream dog. No one gets a sheepdog. They have all that hair, they’re big, they need… sheep. Or something. Farms. Lots of care requirements for sheepdogs.
But Ellie has her heart set on one.
I check the clock on my phone again. Eight. Sunday night. Is she home yet? I don’t want to call. I really don’t want to call her. It’s so fucking pathetic.
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