FILF_Fireman I'd like to...

by Savannah May

  “Hell yeah,” Tangle guffaws, “Women are nothing but a noose around a man’s neck.”

  He’d made a stranglehold sign that made me grin.

  “How do you keep them off your back?” I asked.

  This guy, all wildly untethered is me in another life, without the suit. Or the bank account. I wonder whether he’s happier that way.

  “You don’t. But you know how it goes – soon as you scratch an itch it stops being an irritant.”

  “Yeah but what if she’s refusing to be scratched?”

  “The chase me game? Sure, but every woman has her breaking point, right?”

  “I don't have a problem with seduction,” I tell him. “My limits are self-imposed. That’s the downside of playing in your own sandpit.”

  “Billionaire problems,” Tangle said with a grimace, like he was glad not to have the responsibility that comes with a fortune.

  Perhaps he had the right idea. I’m hearing that phrase a lot – billionaire problems spoken with irony. Like I don’t have any. Money doesn’t buy love, I ought to toss back in future.

  I finally tie up my business, get the investors syrupy sweet and get back on my plane. We’re held up in the Friday afternoon line on the tarmac. It takes longer to take off than it does to fly to New York. I lean back in my chair, a large scotch on the side table and try to relax. Again I think I should have brought Grace along. As an assistant only of course. Although I can’t imagine how that would go down with loyal Janice.

  Could I have got away with saying I was taking Grace along for training purposes? That would have been the truth, just not in any business sense.

  If she were here right now I’d have some training to give her. And I’m pretty damn sure she’d like it too. The rebellious side of Grace is a deep temptation. The idea of taming her to exactly my specifications is intoxicating.

  “Sir, we’re still about twenty minutes from take off,” Jed, my pilot comes over the intercom.

  Normally this would incense me with the rage of time-wasting. Now I lean back and indulge, filling my head with images of Grace.

  She should be in the seat opposite me. Swiveling side to side with her own impatience or need. Her provocative gaze periodically reaching for mine and challenging me. What would she do if I ordered her to slide her skirt up her thighs?

  I’m certain she’d pretend to be outraged and then slowly inch the fabric up, exposing her gamine legs a little at a time. The flesh at the top of her inner thighs is soft and inviting and she knows it. She can see the ravenous hunger in my eyes, fixed on the tiny triangle of hot pink silk between the pure, almost translucent skin. She knows how much I want her, feels the heat of lust pouring out of me.

  She smiles. A contented smile of triumph at the power in her own worth and desirability. Her eyes flick to mine as she slides two fingers under the satiny fabric. I can’t restrain a groan and have to writhe in the leather seat in a hopeless attempt to relieve the agony in my balls. My cock is straining huge and her eyes travel back down to the pulsating bulge, relishing my suffering.

  I can’t take it anymore. I lean forward, grab Grace’s free hand and pull her up out of her chair. She doesn’t fight me on this. The rising pleasure is pushing visibly at her skin lining. Her fingers trace faster circles around her soaking pussy. The fabric of her panties is drenched through with her nectar. I let out a low sound, something raw and animalistic. My desire for her is ravaging me down to my core. I pull her toward me, so she shuffles her feet, moving forward, parting her legs around my thighs straddling me. Then she sinks down on top,. The aroma of her, rising from between her open legs sends my head spinning in a delirium of lust.

  I yank her hand away, out from under her panties and replace it with my own. Delving into her wetness fills me with a kind of euphoria that overwhelms me in an instant. I glide through her slick folds and push one finger inside her, making her gasp.

  Her eyes stretch wide as I corkscrew deeper then insert another broad digit. She arches her back, mewling with lust, then circles her pelvis down onto my thrust.

  “The steward,” she moans.

  “Fuck him,” I grit out.

  “I’d rather fuck you,” she whimpers and reaches to tug on my zipper.

  An insistent vibration jangles my groin. I realize my phone in the pocket is announcing incoming data from Janice on our personal channel.

  Shit. Fantasy blown.

  Set to boil over with torturous need, I yank the thing out and scroll.

  I’ve suspended Miss Hart, the parole intern, for tardiness. She spent the last two days out of the office. Shopping apparently.

  I smile at that. Knowing Grace is getting herself ready to play the part. For me. I tap out a command to my assistant.

  Get her back.

  Janice’s response flies back.

  Sir, with respect, she’s unruly. She won’t ever be tamed

  I grit my teeth. I don't like to be questioned and she should know that. Nor do I want Grace tamed. Docile maybe, in time, but never subdued.

  I want her in my office when I arrive. She can wait.

  Again the reply pings right back.

  Are you sure she can be trusted alone in your office? I can’t stay. I have my sister’s thing.

  I ignore her. She’ll know she crossed a line and follow my orders.

  Now the flight can’t be over with soon enough. I’m at the door to deplane before we’ve even come to a stop. Into the limo and haranguing the driver to get to the office faster. Grace has been ordered into my office to wait for me but still, irrationally, like a fucking madman, I’m on the edge of craziness to be with her.

  There’s no rhyme or reason to this insanity pulsing through my veins. Like Tangle said, all you can do is follow it through to relieve the heat of lust.

  I won’t wait a minute longer. I have every intention of claiming Grace tonight and relieving the clamp of control she’s unwittingly tightened around me.

  Chapter 13

  Grace

  I was on the way out of the office, already downstairs in the swank marble lobby I wouldn’t be passing through ever again, when Janice came running up behind me.

  “Grace, wait,” she called, huffing as she caught up to me from the exertion. I was right by the door. The cockney concierge, Ryan, had it open for me and our eyes met in solidarity as Janice came panting behind me.

  She’d clearly made a dash to chase after me after firing my ass when I came back from another round of shopping. My second day in a row because I was jittery in the office without Hopper around and nervous af about being his girlfriend on the weekend. I also realized you can’t make a princess out of a criminal on only one shopping expedition. That information had come from Janice herself because of the side-eye she threw me for wearing the same clothes I’d bought the first day. So then I wore my own clothes and that definitely didn't please her and they definitely didn’t impress the assistants at the boutiques I was hitting. A bigger wardrobe was required, no two ways about it.

  “Please come back upstairs,” Janice says, all polite and humble which makes Ryan squint at me, like ‘what’s going on?

  “Didn’t you just tell me to get out?” I snapped. The back and forth was making me agitated. Mostly because of the fear she was going to send me back to a cell. I was after all holding the packages from my shopping trip. Maybe she’d say I was stealing from the boss.

  “Maybe I was hasty. Please come back up to the office,” she said, almost friendly now.

  “But it’s after end of day,” I complained, “five-oh-seven.”

  She frowned slightly and I guess she was admonishing me for being a clock watcher and not dedicating my entire life to Hopper Financial. I sneaked a peek at Ryan who was trying not to smirk through his impassive concierge face. It felt good to have someone take my side for once, even if he is a raving social reformer. Fired up under Ryan’s silent encouragement, I was about to tell her that I’d been living my life like clockwork the last few mo
nths. Unlock at eight, locked back up at six forty five. And all the exact timings for meals and work in between those two. I’d had enough of that.

  “Please, miss Hart,” She pleaded, taking me by the arm to guide me back through the sudden wash of traffic pouring from the elevators toward the doors. “Mr Grady insists that you wait in his office until he returns.”

  So there was the reason for her sudden change of heart. She must have told the boss she’d tossed me out and he told her to retrieve me. A glow infused my skin like an expensive spa treatment.

  “But what does he want with me?” I inquired. “I assume he has a task for you. You are his intern to command after all.”

  “Indeed.”

  I tried not to look smug as we rode up alone, just Janice and I in the elevator to the fifty seventh floor. I don’t know how successful I was at that but I sure felt a ton of nerves twanging around in my tummy like snapped guitar strings.

  Now I’m seated in Hopper Grady’s office, in a fancy leather bucket seat. Across from the one where I got myself off. Geez I have to push that memory firmly out of my mind. Glancing to the side, I see Janice through the glass, alternating between checking her watch and checking me. Finally she pulls out her purse and shuts everything down.

  “You aren’t leaving me here alone?” I call out.

  “I have an appointment to see the doctor with my sister. I can’t miss this,” she replies.

  The stress in her voice, the tension in her body tells me it’s something serious.

  “Okay sure, don’t worry. I’ll hold down the fort,” I call back. Janice makes a grimace and with just a brief hesitation, heads off to the elevator.

  What do I do in the office by myself? I do remember how I amused myself last time but I wouldn’t dare. Not when Hopper’s likely to show at any moment. Although the idea of him coming upon me seated behind his huge desk with my feet up on the surface is titillating enough to make my pussy twitch eagerly. I look at his large empty chair across from me and imagine myself sprawled in it, legs up, spread wide apart. Aching hunger ravages my clit as I imagine stroking the tension out of my swollen folds. There’s something decadent about being spread wide in the boss’s chair where anyone might walk in on me. But I know I really want it to be him.

  Oh god, I have to stop coming up with those kinds of filthy thoughts about my boss. I won’t be able to look him in the face without turning lobster. And he’s already cocky enough without also discovering that my resolution to keep this strictly temp business is as trustworthy as a banker’s handshake. But vivid imagery still pushes its way into my head. Of Hopper pulling me out of his chair and flipping me around on it. Making me catch myself on the arms as he slides into me from behind. All the many ways Hopper Grady could take my body and force me to take him deep inside me play like an endless stream across my mind. I’m so lost in the unfulfilled passion I don’t notice Hopper standing at the door, leaning up against it, one leg crossed casually like he was in the break room my first day.

  “You’ve switched seats,” he says, busting me out of my reverie.

  “What?” I leap up out of the guest chair as he moves closer towards me.

  “Last time I found you alone in my office you were in the boss’s chair.” His smirk makes me want to slap him. “I just wondered what it felt like,” I say, trying not to stammer. “All that power.” “I could show you if you want.” “Haven't we already been through this?” I retort, he’s dangerously close to me now and it makes my head swirl. His body gives off a heat that sends my heart skittering across my ribs. My chest heaves up and down like I’m climbing the stairs in this tower. How does he have this affect on me? No man has ever made me this addled. Not even Carl could render my body with pulsations of need like this.

  Gradually, very slowly, Hopper’s face inches closer. Like the world has switched to slow motion in a movie, his mouth tips down on an approach toward mine. I’m panting harder than Janice was, running in her heels, and part my lips for air. He’s going to kiss me and despite my insistence to him and to myself, I know I can’t push him off. All those fantasies have a lot to answer for. My traitorous body is now insisting they morph into reality. His lips just inches from mine mine imperceptibly stretch up eagerly like I’m reaching out for a gift. And then Hopper suddenly comes to his senses, or changes his mind and my heart drops like a stone.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he barks, brooking no disagreement.

  He grabs my hand and I pull back just enough to reach for my shopping bags strewn around the chair. Hopper turns back, surprised at my resistance and looking like he intends to punish it. Then he grins as he notices all the packages. I color slightly, wondering if he thinks I’m taking advantage of him. Forever the bad girl in my own mind. But he takes the bags from me, leaving me to carry one small pink one that’s tied with a wide ribbon. My favorite. Then as though I’m one of the purchases he’s made, he takes my hand in his free palm and carries me along in his wake through the empty office.

  “Where are we going?” I squeak out as we pass one lone worker ant. Tyler is still at his desk and straightens up proudly when he sees the boss. He throws me a glare of disgust as we hurry on and Hopper has passed him without so much as a glance.

  Hopper says nothing until we’re in the elevator – the public one at least because if we were in his private one there’s no telling what he might do to me.

  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you the entire time I was away, Grace,” he grits out like it’s hard for him to own up to or something.

  I roll my eyes because I can’t help but agree on that. Who’s ever going to have someone like me on their mind now? I’m soiled and branded for life.

  “Don’t make that face,” he says, in a commanding tone.

  We exit the elevator and the lobby is still pretty full with people emerging from the other bank of lifts, scurrying for the doors. He grips my hand more firmly to lead me through the throng. Now I get why we took the public elevator as his car is waiting at the curb. Hopper leaves go of my hand but not before Ryan has noticed and even his staid composure is jolted to see me being led by Hopper. He rushes to open the door for us but Hopper already has it under control and guides me through. His hand on the small of my back, right where my ass starts to rise, makes my skin prickle with wildfire heat.

  The chauffeur gathers the shopping bags from our hands and goes to stow them. The car door stands open ready for us and Hopper guides me inside, without asking me if I need a ride. Seeing Ryan watching us slit-eyed through the glass, I ought to stand up to Hopper. How he just takes whatever he wants without a thought of what anyone else wants. But I’m silly putty under that hand on the small of my back. The way he touches me as I climb in sends even more fireworks going off through my veins.

  I cannot want this man so much.

  We have a deal, that’s all. I must not let my fantasies seduce me into believing me it’s real. I’m not Hopper Grady’s girlfriend and never could be. Those kinds of fantasies get me into deep shit. And I have to make damn sure that the advantage taken isn't by him, just because I’m less than his usual glamour girl, doesn’t mean he gets to take me however he wants.

  Chapter 14

  Hopper

  I put Grace in the back of my car like a crazed man. Seeing her again has me in caveman mode, like I’m returning from a month long trip across the desert instead of a few days in the Mid West. It isn’t helping that she’s wearing a wraparound dress that clings to her curves. I can tell from the fabric under my palm that I paid for it and it’s worth every cent. When she bends to climb in the car, she may as well be naked, the way the silky fabric swathes her round ass and outlines the chasm.

  Every move she makes sends my cock rocketing skyward. I climb in beside her with the blood gushing hotly through every last capillary. My blood pounds even harder than the moment I set eyes on her again. Seated in my office demurely which didn't stop the images of the last time I found here there flooding m
y addled brain.

  It’s been three days away that feel like a decade. I don’t know what’s come over me when it comes to this girl. She’s like a craving yearning through me that won’t quit until it’s satisfied. An addiction I’ve never even begun. Unless you count that one taste of her in the break room. The exhilaration of observing her pleasure herself in my chair.

  Now that I have her to myself, I’m determined to do as Tangle recommended. I need to get this girl out of my system. Fast.

  I slide into the seat beside her and Henry closes the door on us before walking round to the driver’s side. As we wait for him, it takes every ounce of self control not to envelop Grace in my hold. I want to throw her back along the seat and plunge deep inside her. I sit rigid, reining the boiling urge back in, but Grace suddenly becomes aware that the length of her thigh is against mine. She pulls it sharply away as though my touch stung her.

  “What’s happening?” she mewls.

  Henry maneuvers the car into traffic and I hit the button that sends the partition wall opaque.

  “I meant what I said back there,” I tell her.

  I take her hand in mine and if she doesn’t exactly return the grasp, at least she doesn't snatch it away. “I’ve thought of nothing but you the past few days.” “That’s because I’m your latest toy. Your newest challenge,” she says, almost sadly behind the hard tone.

  “You think I’m that shallow and predictable?”

  “I think you like shiny new games.”

  “And would it be that bad to play one with me?” “I’ve got more important things to deal with right now.”

  “Oh, like what? You have a great job and a...”

  She lets out a snort at that.

  “What? You don’t like working at Hopper?”

  “I don’t like being a charity case. And I don’t like being ordered around just because I’m a fallen angel.”