12 Days

by Dark Angel

  Oh. Mother fuck. I know what’s wrong here. I know where the chatter was coming from. And now I’m mortified. I don’t know how to breathe. I don’t know how to blink. I don’t know how to move my legs.

  I just gave the board room a full show. This isn’t just a reflective piece of glass, it’s a fucking two-way mirror.

  They got to see me masturbating.

  They saw everything: my breasts, my pussy, my fingering, my squirting. I have no idea how to handle this, or myself. I feel and see my entire body blush. I’m on fire. My cheeks are hot to the touch. I take one of my lovely little wipes and pat my face as I figure out what the fuck I’m gonna do.

  I take a deep breath and go sit back on the couch and wait quietly. Because I know they’re going to be rushing through that door any minute now and I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.

  Chapter 3

  Owen

  “What a fucking amazing show that was.”

  I bring my hands together in a slow clap of applause. It might not be the right moment to do something like that, but fuck. That girl was fucking incredible the way she just got herself off in front of all twelve of us. In her defense, though, she didn’t know there was an audience.

  I wait for a moment before excusing myself from the boardroom. I've been elected to show Alyssa around the facilities. Besides, she’ll need to wash up after that performance.

  I knock softly on the door. Alyssa's silence lets me know she’s still in shock.

  "Miss Morrow, it's Owen. I’ll show you to the bathroom if you're ready?" Smiling, I lean against the wall, listening for signs of life inside.

  "Give me a second, Owen." Her voice shakes as she calls out through the closed door.

  A few moments pass before Alyssa reluctantly opens the door. Her cheeks are still flushed from that orgasm and her shock at being exposed. I'm not sure if I should reassure her it's okay, or that it happens to everyone. Both might make the moment worse for her.

  My lips are pulling up into a cocky grin as I extend my arm to lead the way. Thankfully, the women's room is only two doors down.

  "The boardroom is across the hall. Join us when you're done cleaning up." I clear my throat, tucking my hands down into my pockets and walking across the hall to join the rest of the men.

  Minutes pass before Alyssa joins us. She’s adjusting her skirt as she walks in. The tint of pink is slowly fading from her cheeks. But she still has that 'after sex' glow.

  Every man in the room rises, waiting for her to take a seat before they get comfortable again.

  Ty looks up from the stack of documents on the desk in front of him.

  "Welcome back, Miss Morrow. If you would like to speak, now would be a good time."

  I lean back in my chair, the thoughts of the performance still fresh on my mind—as I’m sure it’s on all the other guys’ minds, too. She put on a hell of a show on the other side of that glass. Of course, she’ll probably blame the perfume, but that was all fucking her.

  I look around the room at the others. They’re silently waiting for Alyssa to get her act together. I can’t help but feel a little bad for Alyssa. She got caught with her pants down this time—literally.

  I remember the first time that happened to me. Back in college, when I was jerking off in the dorms and the resident advisor walked in on me blowing a load. Not my finest moment. Or maybe it was—the RA came back for more the next night.

  Opening her portfolio, Alyssa clears her throat as she considers the faces of her audience. She opens her mouth but says nothing.

  "Miss Morrow, let me get you some water. That might help." I don't wait for her to respond.

  In the corner of the room is the typical drink station. Coffee, tea, and water. Twisting the cap off a bottle of imported water, I slide it in front of her, again not expecting her to say anything.

  If we’re being honest here, I don’t feel bad for this woman. She came here for a fight and ended up putting on a show.

  "Thank you, Owen." Alyssa clears her throat, taking a big sip of the clear fluid.

  Standing, Alyssa moves her hands down her skirt, making sure that the fabric hasn’t risen while she sat. As I study her face; it makes me wonder what she’s thinking now that we’ve all seen her masturbating. Her credibility is totally fucking gone.

  "Your company has a lot of explaining to do." Gripping the table, Alyssa’s knuckles turn white.

  I’m sorry, but I have to work to hold back a chuckle right now. Who the fuck is this woman to tell us that we need to explain anything when she just came all over the fucking place? When I look at the other guys, they look as amused as I do.

  I mean really, at this point, we’ve seen her at her most vulnerable. Yet here she is, acting like she’s the one in charge here. I don’t fucking think so.

  "Yes, a lot of explaining,” she continues, taking a deep breath. “We need to know the ingredients of this new perfume and the effect that it has on the person wearing the product!" Her voice cracks as she speaks. She’s having a hard time keeping her composure with a room full of insanely attractive alpha males.

  And who could blame her? I bet just the idea of all us men here in one room has you ready to pull your own panties down, too. Am I right? Yeah, thought so.

  "Are you okay, Miss Morrow?" Theo asks.

  "If you want to reschedule, Alyssa, we can get the receptionist to do that for you." I smile, my voice dripping seduction. Am I doing that on purpose? Of fucking course, I am.

  "NO!" Alyssa growls out as her hands fumble with the papers in front of her.

  "I demand a list of what’s in that perfume. Is there some secret you’re not telling the consumer? Let me assure you, this will not—"

  Stopping, Alyssa reaches for the bottle in front of her again, this time taking a big gulp of the cold water.

  I exhale, my hands folded on the solid oak table in front of me, wondering for a moment if she feels less confident being in the presence of an all-male audience. Do I care? Not really, but it is fun to watch her try to regain some composure.

  Does she believe that we’re adding something to the fragrance that would enhance a woman's desire for sex? Is this whole act she’s putting on happening because she doesn't understand why she masturbated in the other room, or why she has the full attention of every male in here now?

  The more her voice escalates, the guiltier she makes herself look. But what the fuck does she have to feel guilty about?

  She’s human and was horny. So what if she pulled her skirt up and rubbed her pussy ‘til she squirted? I can assure her that no one in this room is fucking judging her, but I figure that will only make it all worse for her.

  Alyssa stands at the end of the table, looking from man to man, stopping to shut the folder in front of her. Tucking the folder back into her briefcase, she frowns and takes her seat once again.

  "I’m going to need a report faxed to me," Alyssa finishes, flustered, obviously unable to keep her mind on the business at hand.

  "Gentlemen, I think that's it for now. If you have any questions for Miss Morrow, we’ll get to them in our next meeting. Sound good?" I ask, suddenly taking charge of the situation. I’m helping her out whether she realizes it or not. Even though I’m not sure why.

  Small talk breaks out between my friends as they exit the room, a few of them stopping to thank Alyssa for her time, their faces making it clear exactly what they’re thanking her for. I'm sure she wishes they’d all fucking disappear.

  I stay back for a moment, waiting until it’s just the two of us left in the room.

  "How about lunch? I know a little place around the corner that has the best Italian in town. We can talk a little business if you’d like, or just enjoy a pleasant lunch." Smiling at Alyssa, I hope I can make her feel a little more comfortable after that train wreck of a meeting.

  She stands, making sure everything’s in her bag before looking up.

  "Lunch would be nice. I need to send a text first, though. Can you
give me a minute?"

  "Of course. Take your time, and meet me in the hallway." I nod, knowing that’s Alyssaher way of dismissing me for the moment. I do wonder who she’s texting, though.

  Making small talk with the receptionist until Alyssa emerges, I flash a smile as she comes down the hallway to join me.

  "I'll be out to lunch for a few hours," I tell the receptionist.

  "Ready?" I ask Alyssa when she joins us at the reception desk.

  "I’m starving, so yes. I guess I'm ready." Alyssa smiles, her confidence back. I’m impressed with the way she’s pushing the past few hours to the back burner to focus on having a nice lunch.

  "Good. I'll lead the way. We can walk if you don't mind?" I pose it as a question, but that’s the plan, and the way I say it leaves no room for argument. The restaurant is only a block away, and this gives me time to feel her out on a more personal level.

  Something I’m suddenly very interested in doing.

  Chapter 4

  Alyssa

  “Isabella, a table for two, please. Maybe somewhere in the back?” Owen asks the older woman the moment we walk in. She’s about fifty, with dark hair and a robust figure. You can tell she’s quite familiar with him, almost on a motherly level.

  “Of course, Owen. You follow me.” She smiles. Her English isn’t the best, but it’s understandable.

  She seats us in a back booth. The scent coming out of the kitchen has my stomach twisting and turning. I need to stop skipping breakfast.

  It’s either that or the events that happened back at True Love...

  I’m still shocked at myself. I’ve never found such a desperate need to masturbate, much less in a public place. The sights and smells of the whole place just overtook me completely and brought out my deepest, darkest desires.

  “The manicotti is excellent here, and you have to try the cannoli. Best I've ever had,” Owen suggests.

  “You know, that sounds delicious.” I smile, the waitress placing a basket of bread on the table. The way all the women look at him, I can tell he’s a regular here.

  Sitting across from Owen, I still feel a little out of sorts. Never in my life would I have masturbated in front of a stranger, let alone twelve of them. I honestly don't know if I should address what happened or forget that it did.

  “We'll both have the manicotti,” Owen orders, his eyes staying on the waitress as he does. She’s attractive and very attentive.

  I watch them, waiting until the waitress leaves. “So, this a regular place for you? They seem to know you pretty well here.”

  Grabbing a breadstick and looking over, Owen laughs a little before speaking. “Not really. I’m usually more of a take-out kind of guy. We usually call in the order, and one of the girls in the office comes to pick it up.”

  Making small talk seems to lighten the mood a little between the two of us. Owen doesn’t bother to mention the incident, but in my head, I feel like he’s looking at me with judgment. I know I might have done the same in the past.

  I rest my hands on the table, folding my fingers over each other. I honestly don't know how to start this conversation. Just as I attempt to make small talk, Owen takes over.

  “So, penny for your thoughts,” Owen laughs.

  My eyes widen but I try to look at him with a carefully blank expression. “Not sure that I should voice my thoughts here.”

  I look around the place, shaking my head from side to side. How do you bring up the fact that you accidently masturbated in front of twelve strangers and don’t know why?

  His lips curl on one side, there’s a smirk about him that’s cocky and self-assured.

  “There has to be something in that fragrance to make a woman uninhibited,” I let out all at once, finally saying what I feel. I’m stating the only answer I have for what happened.

  The waitress shows up the moment I state what I’m thinking. In dead silence, she sets down salads in front of us, but her eyes stay on Owen the entire time. She’s captivated.

  “Well then,” I say, clearing my throat as she walks away.

  “I can assure you that your fears are one hundred percent wrong,” Owen says, his hand reaching over to pat mine. “I mean it. There’s nothing that will hurt anyone or make anyone do anything they don’t want to.”

  The moment I feel his fingertips on my hand, I look over at Owen. I still don't believe him.

  Nothing else could explain how I acted. It was as though I wanted so badly to be used by all twelve of those men. Even thinking about it now has my panties totally soaked.

  I place my napkin on my lap, shaking my head in amusement. “You know I don't buy that for a minute, right? A woman doesn’t just act that way.”

  I feel my cheeks tint with a crimson hue. I can't even believe we’re speaking about this openly.

  God, why is this man so attractive? Tall, handsome, and his body…just holy shit.

  That very body was totally undressed in my fantasy. He was fucking me full force.

  Him and eleven other men.

  I can't take my eyes off him as he slides the first bite into his mouth. My mind drifts even farther. Lucky fork!

  I shiver and try to shake my head clear. The first bite of the food is good, but I would much rather have something else in my mouth.

  Oh, my god! What's wrong with me?

  I’m so not this kind of girl. A wanton whore who wants to fuck strangers. Well, at least I don't think I’m that kind of woman…

  No, I’m definitely not.

  Out of habit, I begin to chew my bottom lip when we speak. That’s something that I hate in females. The whole lips biting thing is so overdone.

  Women don't do that—or do they? I’m not even sure right now what women do.

  All I know for sure is that if my employer found out I’m flirting with someone we’re investigating, there would be hell to pay. I’d be fired for sure.

  He simply watches me, just like back at the office. His eyes are on me, just like those of the other eleven men. Hunger and want.

  I’m entertained knowing, like I’m putting on some sort of show. I know those looks, because just an hour before, they scalded my flesh with shame.

  “So, now that it is just the two of us, would you like to express some of your concerns about our company to me?” Owen asks.

  He’s trying to get to me on a personal level now, as if I might open up if I think he’s speaking to me on more of a ‘friendly’ level.

  “I have concerns about the ingredients and the effects they can have on the female body. For example, does it make one less inhibited?” I ask, but it’s more of a statement than a question. I’m certain of it, even though he basically just shot that idea down. But I need to know.

  “No. It's not like that at all, but—“ He stops as the waitress sits our food down in the middle of the conversation.

  I want to tell him I think he is lying, but I won't. That’s no way to get anything. You get more flies with honey than with vinegar, right?

  I’m not only a talented investigator, but I’m a confident woman to boot. I can handle one or a thousand men just like him and have them eating out of my palm.

  “Wow, this smells delicious. You have great taste in food, Owen,” I say, smiling. I glance over, and his eyes are still on me. If a glance could penetrate, he’d already be inside of me.

  He seems to know every thought, and, unfortunately for me, he already nearly knows every inch of me by sight.

  I can't keep my eyes off of him. What's wrong with me? Even during the meal, I’m watching him―and his eyes are always on me.

  “So, how’s the food?” I ask, my taste buds sedated from the delicious meal.

  “Almost as delectable as the company.” Owen winks, his voice filled with quiet amusement.

  I blush when he compares me to the food we’re dining on. Why must I blush at a time like this?

  “You have a little something on your face,” Owen says, leaning in towards me. He uses his cloth napkin to dab
the tiniest of specks from my cheek. I think it’s just a reason to touch me.

  The flirting between us is something that anyone would pick up on if they were observing, but it doesn't seem to be over the top. I’m sure that Owen is only doing it because of what he saw me doing; he’s only trying to comfort me in my embarrassment.

  For the rest of the meal, the banter of small talk back and forth fills the time. I can tell Owen’s flirting by the suggestive winks and smirks he gives me.

  I’m not complaining, but it's not at all professional. I wonder now how I’ll ever get this back on a professional level between the two—or to be honest, all of the twelve—of us.

  He pays the check, even though I suggest that I do. It's a business meeting, so that should be fine. Not a date, definitely, but him paying suggests otherwise.

  As we exit, I can't help but shiver when his hand goes to the small of my back. He pulls me close to lead me as we make our way out. Okay, this is getting to be more than a conversation about the chemical compounds of perfume.

  I stumble over my words as we walk out. “I, well, uhm, that was wonderful. Thank you. I’ll get with your receptionist about a follow-up meeting.”

  I don't give him a chance to respond before walking away, but I can feel him watching my ass as I do. I’ve made such a fool of myself today. I need a little time to think and figure out my next plan of attack.

  Chapter 5

  Alyssa

  A long hot shower is what I desperately need. I stand under the stream of hot water to wash away the sins of the day. I still can't wrap my head around the fact that I got off in front of complete strangers, even by accident.

  And not just strangers but twelve of the hottest men that I have ever seen, all of them watching me with hunger and desire.

  I sigh heavily. I can’t exactly change what happened, but there’s a nagging part of me that keeps telling me I wouldn't change it even if I could. I honestly don't know what's come over me. I should have kept my head focused, not scattered with carnal lust.