Office Toy 2 Client Satisfaction

by Cleo Peitsche

  When he stopped in front of her, she had to tilt her head back to see him, he was so large. He pressed his hand against her pussy, stroking his finger over her clit. Elle moaned and fought to keep her balance. She wanted to grab onto him, pull him closer, but she knew better.

  Just before she reached the point of no return, Cunningham stopped. He could get her off in his sleep—it was like he'd been studying her the first few times. Knowing him, he probably had. He pushed something against her pussy, and he held it there, covered in his hand. His dark eyes bore into hers, and Elle had to fight not to beg him to fuck her. There was something about being the object of his attention that undid her every time. She trembled, afraid he could see how badly she wanted him—and suspecting that he'd already seen it and didn't care. Nolan had warned her that women always fell for Cunningham, and Elle had sworn to herself that she wouldn't be like the others. But here she was, hoping the rules didn't apply to her, that fate would deal her a better hand …

  "Pull up your panties."

  Elle hastened to comply, and when Cunningham removed his hand, the cool, foreign thing remained pressed against her wet folds, from just above her clit all the way down to her entrance. Elle shifted, and the back part of the object intruded ever so slightly into her slick hole. Cunningham pulled her close so that his erection pressed against her lower stomach, then he slid a hand between their bodies. He pressed on the object in her panties, and it dipped a little deeper into her. "This is what you'll be wearing to dinner tonight." He strode to the elegant, free-standing wood closet and pulled out a short, black dress on a hanger. "And this."

  A flush of excitement rose in Elle's cheeks and spread across her face. She dipped her head, hoping that Cunningham hadn't noticed. When she unzipped the dress and pulled it off the hanger, her hands shook. This was it. Her. Out with Cunningham. "Where are we going?"

  "You are going to meet a client. Turn."

  Elle froze.

  "Turn," Cunningham said in that tone of voice that meant he was losing patience.

  Elle pivoted quickly before he could see the look of misery on her face. He zipped up the back of the dress and adjusted its thin straps on her shoulders. The tender gesture had Elle blinking back unexpected tears.

  This was Nolan's doing. He'd talked Cunningham out of going with her. She was going to kill the rotten, meddling bastard—

  "There's a car waiting for you downstairs. One more thing—" He took the second box, snapped it shut and held it out. "Give this to the client, and no looking inside."

  Elle stared dumbly at the box. Was he really going to send her off alone with a stranger?

  "Elle!"

  "Yes. I understand." When she looked at him, his expression was hard and shut off. He'd seen it. Her disappointment. The hope dying in her eyes. He knew how she felt, that it wasn't just sexual exploration for her.

  He knew she was falling in love.

  She was so screwed.

  The client wasn't in the car. Elle gripped the box, her knuckles white. She was having a difficult time breathing, and a whole new set of worries crowded her mind. How was she supposed to recognize the client? Was it one person or more than one? And what was she expected to do? She just wasn't ready to handle something like this alone. For the first time ever, a sliver of doubt about Cunningham's judgement appeared. Suppose it was a bad situation and she needed to get away …? Yet she didn't remove the thing that Cunningham had nestled against her pussy. No, she trusted him. She had to.

  The car pulled up in front of a luxury hotel, and a portly, mustached doorman opened the door. "Miss Girdley?"

  Elle nodded, surprised to be recognized. "I'm not sure where I'm going."

  "The Overlook. It's the restaurant on the top of the building. The hostess will handle everything." He helped her out of the car. "Enjoy your evening, Miss." The smile accompanying his words seemed innocent enough. It should have relaxed her. Cunningham was nothing if not discreet—she knew that already. But it didn't mean the evening would be a chaste one for her.

  She presented herself to the hostess and was ushered to a table in the middle of the restaurant. With every step she worried that the thing in her panties would tumble onto the floor, so she took small steps, feeling silly.

  A man in his early thirties with thick, prematurely graying hair rose to greet her. "Elle. I'm pleased to meet you. My name is Karl Mains." His warm green eyes shone with intelligence. Elle couldn't stop her gaze from wandering down his lithe body. She guessed he was a tennis player, or a swimmer. The kind of man who made time to exercise every day. She immediately handed him the box, which he placed to the side of his menu.

  Only when she was seated did she notice that the table was set for four.

  "They should be along any minute," Karl said as he noticed her confusion. He signaled for a waiter. "What kind of wine do you prefer?"

  "Um …" Elle's mind whirled. She didn't know anything about that sort of thing. The only wine she'd ever tasted that cost more than a few dollars had been at a friend's wedding, and she didn't even know what it was called. She picked up the wine menu and looked down the list of names she couldn't begin to pronounce. Damn, she didn't belong here. Then she remembered what Cunningham had said at her interview, that she needed to project confidence. She had to trust that he wouldn't put her into a situation she couldn't handle. "Why don't you choose? I'm in the mood to try something new." She raised one of her shoulders in a shrug as she smiled.

  "Sure." Karl nodded and a server rushed over. After the server left, Elle frantically tried to think of something interesting to talk about. Unfortunately, all she could think of was Cunningham and how he had reacted when he saw her disappointment. She was a fool for thinking she was different, and if she wanted to keep her job, she needed to get a fucking grip on herself. Elle bit down hard on her lip.

  "And here is Gustav."

  Elle turned to see a distinguished and well-dressed man in his mid-forties walking toward the table. His gaze swept over the room, his head high. He exuded confidence. While he was attractive, he wasn't really her type, but there was no doubt in her mind that this man was dominant. An alpha male, just like Cunningham. And her pussy, traitorous thing, quivered. If Cunningham wanted her to submit to these men, at least she wouldn't have to fake it.

  The newcomer ordered a waiter to remove the other place setting before he even took his seat. "It's just the three of us," he said. He had an accent, definitely European, but Elle couldn't place it. Hell, she'd never talked to someone with an accent apart from the guy who answered the phone at her local Chinese takeout restaurant.

  "Gustav Black." He took her hand in his and brushed his lips against it. "You are delightful," he said. "So innocent looking," he murmured so that only she could hear.

  Elle's eyes went wide, and her heart sped up. He knew what she was. She tried to calm herself. So what if he did? She wasn't just willing to submit, she wanted to. Needed to bury the memory of Cunningham … and what a fun way to do it.

  To hide her smile, she sipped the white wine that Karl had chosen.

  Gustav shifted gears and began talking about a tissue ad campaign. The men led the conversation, often asking Elle to explain why she thought a particular ad did or didn't work. Karl used his tablet to show her posters. Elle recognized some of them as being from her office.

  "Enough work talk," Gustav said abruptly.

  Karl nodded and stowed his tablet. Elle had the impression he was a bit of a workaholic. The waiter uncorked another bottle of wine, and Elle blinked. Had they finished one already? The appetizers hadn't even arrived yet. She set down her almost-empty glass.

  "The remote, please," Gustav said, and Karl slid Cunningham's mystery box across the white tablecloth. Elle watched as Gustav pulled off the top, took out a small, oblong thing and tossed the box to the side as if he were in a dive and not one of the nicest restaurants in the country. He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. "Elle, we're going to play a game. I'm going to ask you a
question, and you'll answer it."

  "Ok," Elle said. She didn't see how that was a game. She picked up her glass. "Sure."

  "Do you have a boyfriend?"

  Elle almost choked on her wine. "I … um … not really. No."

  Karl laughed and tilted toward her. "That must be difficult."

  With a smile, Gustav also leaned toward her. "What do you do to get off? When your pussy needs company?" Even though his accent softened the direct words, Elle still blushed a thousand shades of red.

  "I … um …" She stared at her napkin.

  "Maybe this can help get you in the right frame of mind," Gustav said. His fingers closed on the oblong object that Cunningham had sent, and a vibration roared to life between Elle's legs, stimulating her clit, her lips, and the first inch of her quivering entrance.

  She gasped, her hand hitting the table and sending her butter knife onto the floor. The vibration stopped, and Elle fought to catch her breath. After the foreplay of Cunningham's spanking, she needed release. Badly.

  Gustav placed the object—the remote control—on the table. He laced his fingers together. "Shall I repeat the question?"

  "Y-yes, please," Elle stammered. A solemn waiter ushered away the fallen silverware.

  The corners of Gustav's mouth curved. "I can tell by the way you hold yourself that you are a woman of considerable appetite. How do you satisfy your sexual urges?"

  "I, um, well." Elle took a deep breath, but she couldn't make herself go on.

  Gustav's fingers moved to the remote, and he switched it on again, this time at a much lower speed. He left it on.

  Elle angled her hips down and spread her knees, trying to use the chair to bring the vibrator closer against her clit. When she glanced down, she saw that her peaked nipples strained against the dress's silky fabric, the nipple shields making them even more prominent than they would normally be. She would have to remember to feel humiliated later, when a delicious orgasm wasn't just a hair's breadth out of her grasp.

  Karl took Elle's hands in his and squeezed them. There was so much restrained power in him, and when she met his green eyes, she was caught off guard by the burning lust that heated his gaze. Maybe he was a sophisticated workaholic, but he was all male. "What do you do for sex, Elle?"

  The truth welled up in her throat, and the support in Karl's eyes made it easy for her to speak. After all, it was impossible that they didn't already know; they just wanted to hear her admit it. "I guess I'm the office fuck toy," she said with a breathless little laugh. It was hard as hell to talk when she was so close to coming.

  Gustav's voice lowered. "The whole office? Tell us about that."

  Elle colored. "No. Not yet. Just for Cunningham, Jonathan and Nolan."

  Gustav and Karl exchanged a glance.

  "How long have you been working there?"

  "Almost a month," Elle said.

  Gustav switched off the remote and leaned back. Elle sulked a little and squirmed, trying to get the apparatus in her panties to finish the job.

  "You were right, Karl," Gustav said. He thoughtfully tapped his lower lip with his thumb. "I've half a mind to teach Cunningham a lesson."

  Karl turned over one of Elle's hands and caressed the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. "Just because we can't keep her doesn't mean we can't play with her." He dropped a hand to her knee. "Elle, would you like to come now?"

  "I couldn't—"

  "You can and you will." Gustav tapped the remote, and the vibrator kicked into high gear. Elle's belly tightened, and each time she inhaled, her breasts rose up.

  Gustav slipped a hand under the table and placed it high up on her thigh, above her stocking. He moved her dress back as confidently as if he'd touched her a million times before, and he squeezed her hard enough to bring her attention to him.

  "Come for me, Elle," he said. His finger plucked at the tight garter strap, and it snapped against her skin with a sizzling kiss. Karl squeezed her other thigh, and Elle had the impression of being held open for these men to take their pleasure. They had all the control; she had none.

  She bit down hard on her lip as she yielded to the insistent humming that warmed her clit and folds. Still, a strangled, joyful noise escaped her as her pussy clenched so violently that she shook all over. The hands on her thighs kept her from coming off the chair, though by the time the orgasm waned, the hands had slid up to the juncture of her thighs, so close to her hungry, plumped lips.

  The vibrator was shut off just in time for the waiters to bring plates of fragrant food. Elle glanced around. No one was staring at her, but that didn't mean no one had noticed. Now that she'd come, she could see the world with clear eyes, and one thing was certain—she wanted to go to the bathroom and get rid of the vibrator.

  But Cunningham had put it there, so she shouldn't remove it. Even though she was angry with him, she couldn't disobey.

  "Crap. What timing," Karl said under his breath, his eyes shooting daggers at something behind her.

  Elle turned to see what had annoyed him, and her heart leapt up into her throat. They hadn't deserted her after all! Jonathan, flanked by Nolan, headed her way. As always, Jonathan's tousled, movie-star hair and easy way of moving made heads turn toward him. Seeing him so unexpectedly gave Elle a jolt, and she saw him with fresh eyes: astonishingly attractive, Nordic coloring, and a face so beautiful that despite his friendly demeanor, their first encounter had rendered her speechless.

  Behind him, Nolan was impeccable in a gray suit. Even at this distance, Elle could clearly read the controlled anger in his dark blue eyes. That didn't necessarily mean that something was the matter; she was starting to get used to Nolan's moods, but if he fucked her before he calmed down, she'd be sore for days. Not that it was a bad thing. She looked longingly back the way they had come, but Cunningham wasn't with them.

  Jonathan indicated the empty chair with a nod of the head. "We thought we'd find Cunningham here," he said.

  Gustav's eyes crinkled as he levelly returned Jonathan's gaze. "It seems he changed his mind."

  Jonathan looked questioningly at Elle, and she colored, remembering how Cunningham had so easily dismissed her earlier.

  Nolan folded his arms across his chest. "We'll be at the bar," he said. His tone was bored, but Elle could tell that he was furious and fighting to hide it.

  "Ok, ok," Elle said. "Can someone explain what's going on?"

  "It's nothing," Jonathan said. "Come to the bar when you're finished." His eyes fell on the remote control, but Gustav slid a hand over it.

  "I'll hold onto this," he said. "Enjoy the bar. Feel free to put your drinks on my tab." He turned dismissively and picked up his knife and fork and cut into his appetizer. "Your trumpet mushrooms are getting cold, Elle," he said as if Jonathan and Nolan weren't still standing there.

  Elle's breath caught as fury rose in Jonathan's eyes. She thought he was going to pull Gustav out of his chair and punch him, but Nolan muttered something under his breath, and Jonathan seemed to get a grip on himself.

  Then he leaned over and kissed Elle gently, his lips soft on hers. He straightened. "Enjoy your dinner." He turned and walked away.

  Elle's mouth dropped open. She'd had Jonathan in her mouth, in her pussy, in her ass … in every way a woman could take a man, but he'd never acted anything but professionally in front of strangers. And now he had kissed her in the city's most exclusive restaurant. What was that about?

  "Maybe we should call Cunningham," Karl said.

  "No." Gustav took a sip of his wine. "She's ours for the night. If those two want to watch or join in, let them, but a deal is a deal."

  Karl set his glass down and met Gustav's gaze. "Cunningham hasn't had one of our girls in weeks. I'm not a betting man, but I'd wager he stopped around the time Elle started working for him. He can make up all the excuses that he wants, but he was never too busy before. I think— "

  "I heard you. Now drop it." Gustav picked up Elle's fork and pressed it in her hand. "Eat."

/>   Elle stabbed at a tender mushroom and mechanically brought it to her mouth as she tried to process everything that had happened. Cunningham had stopped playing with other women? It'd be stupid to get ahead of herself, but now she knew. He had feelings for her, too. He had to. So why did he keep her at a distance? He couldn't be unaware that something real was developing between them. Cunningham didn't seem the kind of man to be oblivious to anything, let alone his own thoughts.

  But what if he was?

  Elle hadn't spent too much time thinking about why the three men preferred to share a partner. After all, it suited her, too. And even though she had fantasized about something more with Cunningham, she knew she'd miss Jonathan if Cunningham claimed her for his own. So how would something like that work? And then there was Nolan. She was very attracted to him, even though he drove her crazy.

  Gustav motioned for her to keep eating. Elle swallowed the mushrooms, only casually noticing how buttery and delicious they were.

  Gustav shoved his plate away. "Let's just get room service. Take her down."

  Karl wiped his mouth with his napkin and dropped it on the table as he rose, and he held a hand out to Elle, helping her stand.

  He led her through the restaurant. Elle had to go very slowly because the vibrator had shifted, and she was more worried than ever that it would fall out. It seemed to take forever to reach the elevators.

  "Don't let Gustav fool you—we're not going to force this. It's a shame," he said as he adjusted the strap of her dress, "that it ended this way." He leaned in. "You're talented. If you ever leave Cunningham & Associates, you have a job with us. Whether you want to be the 'office fuck toy' or not." His smile warmed her heart.

  Gustav and Nolan strode out. "Jonathan's just settling the tab, so wait here for him," Gustav said. He kissed Elle's cheek. "Cunningham better get his act together. Maybe next time I won't be feeling so generous." His voice was a solemn promise that made the submissive in Elle tremble. He wouldn't be an easy lover to please.

  "Wait," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She cleared her throat. "I want to know, were you expecting to have sex with me tonight?"