“Then are you sure you won’t stay?” I ask though I know she won’t, and I’m not surprised when she opens the door.
“I can’t.” She steps back into the hall. “After all the bad stuff, I made myself a promise not to hurt anyone else if I could help it. I know I’m important to making your life run smoothly. If you decide you don’t want to risk that, I’ll understand and things can go back to the way they were before.”
“All right.” I let my gaze skim up and down, memorizing how beautiful she looks with the light from the window behind me reflecting in her eyes. “See you soon.”
“Soon,” she echoes before moving away down the hall. I watch her go, knowing deep down in my gut that it’s too late to step back from the ledge.
If we don’t see this through, I’m never going to be able to hear her voice on the phone or read a message she’s written and not think about this afternoon, when I was so close to being inside her. When she was standing in the circle of my arms, giving as good as she got, driving me crazy with every word that came out of her mouth, making me so desperate for her it feels like my balls are going to explode.
I’ll honor her request for time, but my decision is already made.
I’m going to have her. I’m going to have her naked in my bed, writhing beneath me, screaming my name as I fuck her into her first non-self-administered orgasm in three long years.
There’s no longer a question of if we’re going to be lovers.
Only when.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
From the e-mail and text archives of Sebastian “Bash” Prince and Penny Pickett
From: MagnificentBastard1
To: Penny4YourLobsterPot
Re: Do you want to lose your job?
I’m assuming you must or you wouldn’t have turned me on to Ample Valley Creamery’s Salted Caramel Crack Butterscotch ice cream. Five days later, I have spooned down five pints and am heading out the door right now to make another run to the store to stock up on my drug of choice.
At this rate, I’ll have an ice cream paunch before the month is out and will have eaten myself out of my career field by January first.
No one wants a Magnificent Bastard with Dad bod, Penelope.
This is something you should have considered BEFORE sending me that link to Ample Valley’s five most orgasmic flavors.
Sincerely,
Bash, who encourages you to start shining up your resume
From: Penny4YourLobsterPot
To: MagnificentBastard1
Re: Do you want to lose your job?
HAHAHA!!
I knew it! I knew you would be powerless against the creamy deliciousness! Welcome to my world. I’ve gained five pounds since they opened a location on my block. I’ve had to take up jogging to compensate and, as anyone with double D breasts will tell you, that is an exercise in pure bouncy agony.
Don’t worry about getting Dad bod.
You’ll still be hot from the neck up ;).
Penny, who is confident in your ability to be magnificent even with an ice cream paunch
Text from Bash: Maybe we should go running together sometime. We could inspire each other…
From Penny: What do I get out of this running arrangement? Do you have any bouncing body parts I’m going to find inspirational?
Bash: I can go without a shirt and let you watch my paunch jiggle…
Penny: Oh, stop it. You do not have a paunch. You’re too much of a control freak to let yourself go. I’ll believe this paunch nonsense when I see it.
Bash: Come over. I’ll get an extra pint of Salted Caramel Crack for you. We can eat it on the couch while watching late night and you can see my paunch grow in person.
Penny: It’s too late for me. I would fall asleep on the train.
Bash: Liar. You’re just determined never to hang out with me. There go my plans for an office Christmas party…
Penny: Lol. Can you still call it a party if only two people are invited?
Bash: Three if you count my paunch.
Penny: Five if you count the bouncing betties.
Bash: Double Ds you say? Hmmm…
I guess they can each be counted as their own separate entity. I’ll arrange invites for all three of you.
How’s December 23rd work? I have another party on the 22nd and the 24th belongs to my mother and her new boyfriend, but I can pull together an office party by the 23rd if you’ll promise to come out.
Or I can come to your side of the river if that’s easier.
It’s been over a year of working bliss. I think we should meet in person, don’t you?
Penny: I think you don’t like being alone. That’s what I think.
Bash: …okay then.
Guess I’ll let you go.
Enjoy the rest of your weekend.
Penny: I’m sorry… I was just kidding. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.
I would love to party with you on the 23rd, but I’ve got company coming for the holidays. Can I take a rain check?
Bash: Sure. Consider yourself rain checked. ’Night.
Penny: Seriously Bash, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.
That was way more about me than you.
As you’ve obviously noticed, I don’t get out much, but I’m going to start. I promise. And when I do, you’re going to be the first person I want to see.
I think it’s time we met, too.
It’s kind of strange that the person I say good night to almost every night is someone I’ve only seen in pictures.
Bash: Try having no idea what your good night person looks like… *side eye*
Penny: Okay, fine! See attached picture of my feet at this very moment.
Bash: Wow! Feet!
And they’re wearing some very nice reindeer socks with separate compartments for each little toe. At this rate, I’ll have a good mental picture of what you look like below the knees by the time I’m forty.
Penny: :P. Good night, Mr. Prince. Enjoy your ice cream.
Bash: Good night, buttercup. Keep those toes cozy. Touch base with you Monday.
CHAPTER TWENTY
By morning—after hours of tossing and turning and dreaming about fucking Penny in every filthy way I’ve ever had a woman and a few new ways my subconscious whipped up specifically for her—I realize that this has been coming for a long time. Way longer than last Sunday, when I finally laid eyes on more of Penny than her adorable little toes.
Even her toes are sexy. As sexy as her quick mind and the way she makes me laugh and how she’s not afraid to call me on my bullshit.
But then that’s part of the problem…
I’m not a fool or the kind of person who lives his life with his head completely in the sand. Since Rachael, I’ve been jumping from short-term relationship to short-term relationship, keeping my emotional investment low in order to avoid getting hurt. I might not have wanted to face it, but I realized that particular truth a long time ago. I’m also fully aware of the fact that Penny has come to fill the female friendship and late night couch-chat hole that Rachael left behind.
What I didn’t realize until yesterday, however, is how flirtatious my relationship with Penny had become.
At five a.m., having given up on sleep, I’m at my computer combing through our correspondence, trying to pinpoint the moment when our friendship took a turn. I isolate several conversations about six months into our professional relationship that seem to be the tipping point, but it’s hard to tell which of us was the driving force. There are a few teasing remarks on Penny’s side and some innuendo-laced jokes on mine, but from there things seem to flow organically into something else.
Something flirtatious and surprisingly…intimate.
If I didn’t know for a fact that these messages were between an employer and his assistant, they could easily be read as the sexy banter of a couple. They’re practically foreplay. My hard-on for Penny has been staring me in the face from a computer screen for months and I had no idea
that somewhere in my subconscious I’ve been fantasizing about what it would be like to have her.
I’m not a sex addict—I don’t engage in destructive sexual behavior or lose interest in a woman once the thrill of the chase is over—but there are clearly things going on in my psyche that I’m not aware of.
And I don’t like that. Not one fucking bit.
The part of me that values reason, order, and professionalism demands that I call this whole thing off—the intervention, the fuck buddy plan, the texting, the flirting, seeing Penny in person, all of it. If she’s going to remain my employee, then we need a swift and immediate return to the friendly, but impersonal dynamic we had when we first started working together.
My dick, however, has enjoyed the walk down memory lane and is more ready to service Penny than ever.
The Incredible Bulk remains semi-erect all morning and when I see Penny standing on the Long Island Railroad platform, the last thing I want to do is tell her she’s going this alone. She’s wearing one of her new dresses—a knee-length brown spandex number with ruffled layers around the hem that emphasizes her curves, flashy gold earrings, and gold sandals that display her sexy little toes—and looks good enough to eat.
I’m working up a full-fledged hard-on even before I get close enough to see the gloss on her lips or smell the addictive scent of her perfume. The moment that light, lemon, sugar, and sea salt smell hits my nose I’m a goner.
“Hey, you made it!” She lifts an awkward hand, the anxiety in the gesture making it clear she isn’t sure what verdict I came to overnight.
Under normal circumstances, I would want to allay her fears as soon as possible, but thanks to Penny’s “time to think” mandate…I’ve had time to think. And I haven’t enjoyed it or the way it’s complicated what should have been a combustible, no-strings-attached fuck.
So instead of leaning down to whisper that I hope she isn’t wearing her favorite panties because I plan to rip them off of her as soon as we reach our private car, I greet her with a cool nod and motion toward the front of the train. “We’re one down from the dining car.”
“Oh, okay.” She falls in beside me, dragging her roller suitcase behind her. “Good morning.”
“For a few more minutes anyway.”
She clears her throat. “Good for a few more minutes? Or morning for a few more minutes?”
I smile, but keep my attention fixed on the platform ahead. “Morning for a few more minutes. Then it will be afternoon and we’ll be cleared to have a glass of champagne. A bottle comes complimentary with the private car.”
“You shouldn’t have,” she says, her voice brightening. “The sleeping cabins are so expensive. I’m fine with coach.”
“Good,” I say, still smiling. “Because I booked you a general boarding ticket as well. In case you decide you would rather not ride in my car.”
I’ve done nothing of the sort but hearing her say, “O-okay. Of course. If you would rather be alone,” in a way that makes it clear she’s no longer certain how her plan is going to pan out makes the lie worth it.
I like Penny, and I want Penny. I want her so badly that my cock is already straining the front of my dark wash jeans, making me grateful for the erection-concealing protection of my briefcase. But I’m not happy with the position she’s put me in. And I don’t care if it’s unprofessional and bastardly in a way that isn’t magnificent, I want to make her suffer through at least a few minutes of the torment I’ve endured for the past fifteen hours.
At the entrance to the sleeping car, where ten private luxury cabins have made train travel something to seriously contemplate again, a woman in an LIRR uniform, with a mass of blond hair coiled atop of her head, and wearing too much lip liner, takes our tickets.
And a few moments to check me out.
“Welcome, Mr. Prince. I’ll be your in-car concierge.” Her blue eyes track from my face to my where my white button down’s sleeves are folded up to reveal my forearms and back again. Penny, who has stopped by my elbow, she ignores. “Right this way. I’ve already got the champagne chilling in your cabin.”
“Thank you…” I drop my eyes to the nametag on her blazer, letting my gaze linger on her chest long enough to ensure that Penny will notice. “…Patrice. I’m sure you’ll help make the journey very comfortable.”
“Absolutely.” Patrice reaches out to squeeze my bicep before leading the way up the steps into the car and down a surprisingly wide hallway. “That’s what I’m here for! To make sure your journey is as smooth as possible. Each cabin is equipped with a concierge phone that comes straight to my cell so I’m always just a call away.”
Pausing before the second door to the left, she opens it with a suggestive smile. “Anything you need, anything at all, Mr. Prince, you just give me a call and I’ll be here in a jiff.”
“What might he need?” Penny asks sweetly as she shifts in front of me, demanding the other woman’s attention. “Other than the champagne that comes with the private car?”
Patrice glances down, her smile growing brittle around the edges. “Well, I deliver food from the dining car and drinks from the bar. I can also help arrange for transportation to meet you at the station or help you book excursions with our sister company that offers sunset wine tasting cruises around the island.”
“Oh, well that sounds great,” Penny says with a soft laugh and a self-conscious roll of her eyes. “For a second, I thought you might have been talking about sex. But I’ll be taking care of that.”
“Well n-no,” the concierge sputters. “Of course I wasn’t, I—”
“Of course you were, but seriously. I’m doing you a solid.” Penny’s eyes grow almost comically wide and I have to fight to hold back the laugh shoving up my throat. “He’s too much of a good thing if you know what I’m saying.” She holds her hands out, palms at least a foot apart, and mouths, Huge. Seriously. Huge.
Before our concierge’s jaw can do more than jog up and down in shock, Penny has grabbed a fistful of my shirt and shot me a hard smile over her shoulder. “Shall we darling?”
“We shall,” I say, following her into the compartment.
The second the door closes behind us, I pull her into my arms, intent on showing her there’s no such thing as too much of a good thing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Our luggage goes flying, knocking the champagne bucket to the floor, but we don’t stop to pick it up.
I’ve already got Penny’s legs wrapped around my waist, holding her fine ass in one hand while I pull the foldaway bed out of the wall with the other. I could care less if there’s ice all over the floor and our champagne has rolled under one of the seats. I’m not worried about anything but how fast I can get my hands beneath Penny’s dress.
“Sure you don’t want me to go ride in general seating, Mr. Prince?” Penny asks, lips moving against mine as I lay her down on the bunk and lengthen myself on top of her. “So you and Patrice can get to know each other better?”
“Christ, no.” I kiss my way down her neck as I cup her breast through her dress. “All I want is your pussy all over my face.”
Her breath catches. “Really? That’s all?”
“And then your pussy all over my cock.” I pinch her nipple, drawing a gasp from her throat. “And then my cock deep inside you, fucking you until you realize what a mistake it was to leave my apartment last night.”
“If I didn’t know better, I would think you were mad at me.” She threads her fingers through my hair, stopping me before I can pull her dress down and get my teeth on her tight little nipple. “You aren’t, are you?”
“I’m not a fan of thinking.” I slide a hand up her thigh. “It makes me cranky.”
“I can see that,” she says, lashes fluttering as I cup her through her panties. “But that probably means that thinking was something you needed to do.”
“You’re hot, Miss Pickett,” I say, not in the mood to talk about thinking, either. Talking is overrated, especially when I
’ve got a beautiful woman beneath me. My teeth dig into my bottom lip as I curl my hand tighter around her mound. “Hot and wet. I can feel you through these satin panties.”
“S-silk.” Her tongue sweeps across her lips. “They’re silk.”
I rub my finger back and forth across the fabric, teasing lightly over her clit. “That they are. My apologies.”
“Bash?” she asks, eyes going wider. “Are we really going to do this?”
“Unless you tell me to stop, then yes, Penny, we’re really going to do this.” Fingertip still teasing her through her panties, I continue in a voice soft enough not to be heard outside in the hall, “First, I’m going to pull these very nice panties to one side and fuck you with my fingers.”
She swallows, her throat working as her chest rises and falls faster.
“I’m going to get you wetter than you’ve ever been in your life,” I continue, “make you so hot and desperate for my cock that you’re begging me to fuck you. And then, if I’m in a merciful frame of mind and not in the mood to torture you a little more, I will rip these very nice panties down your legs and fuck you until you scream.”
Her lips part, but I cut her off before she can speak.
“And you will scream.” I thumb her clit harder until her eyes dilate and her hips begin to pulse against me of their own accord. “You won’t care that there are people on either side of us who might hear you. You won’t even remember that they’re there. All you’re going to remember is that no one has ever fucked you as well or as thoroughly as I’m fucking you.”
“Shit.” Her brow furrows as she shakes her head gently back and forth. “You’re too good at that.”
1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Nine Page 77
