by Vivian Wood
“A friend,” she said thinly. “Someone I used to work with.”
“Who was visiting… why? Just because he likes your flat?” His British accent was particularly crisp on the last few words. It made Cameron shiver, despite the fact that he was so close to her that she could feel his body heat. The combination was intoxicating.
“He was checking on me, making sure I’m alive. It’s what nice men do,” she said.
“Is that what you like?” he asked, reaching out to stroke her cheek with the back of his knuckles. His voice was low and rough. “You like nice men?”
Her breath caught in her chest. She looked up at him, her eyes wide.
“N-no,” she said quietly.
“No?” he echoed.
“No,” she said, more firmly.
He moved back a little and looked down at her dress, above the knee and made of maroon lace. She could hear his breathing go harsh, just as hers was.
Smith reached down and grasped her waist, then moved his hand further down to her bare thigh. She gasped as his bare skin made contact with hers, the sound loud in the quiet office.
“Are you single, then?” he asked.
“Yes. Yes, I’m single.”
She swallowed the knot of tension that grew in her throat. He pulled up her dress on one side, admiring her stockings and garters. Both black, to match her black lace panties.
“Fuck, I love these,” he said softly, almost to himself. He pulled up her dress on the other side, clearly aroused. She knew just how he felt; her panties were damp, a little wet spot on the front.
He touched her through her panties, just on the spot that was damp. It wasn’t her clit, but it was close.
She moaned, her knees threatening to buckle.
She reached out to touch him, but he nixed that quickly enough. He pushed her hand away roughly, then shocked her by picking her up and putting her over his shoulder.
She cried out and he carried her across the office toward his desk. Smith slapped her on the ass, hard.
“Don’t,” he warned.
He put her down on the edge of his desk, her skirt hiked up around her hips. He stood over her, tall and menacing.
“I’ve imagined you here,” he ground out, plucking at the front of her panties, “just like this. If you had any idea what I dreamed of doing to you…”
He cupped her through her panties, finding her clit with little effort. She gasped. She could feel his fingers teasing her through her panties, feel her clit aching and her breasts begin to tighten.
She tensed as he pushed her legs further apart and moved between them. His erect cock was tenting his pants now, and he pressed his cock against her inner thigh.
She shivered at the memory of how long and thick and perfect he was. Cam moved her hand to touch his cock through his pants, but he flung her hand away.
“No. I want to taste you,” he said.
The rumble of his voice and the look in his cobalt blue eyes were almost enough to bring her to the edge untouched. He loosened his bow tie, looking for all the world like the world’s deadliest assassin.
He dropped to his knees as his nimble fingers undid her garters. He tugged down her panties and pushed her thighs wide apart. She cried out as he used two fingers to separate her pussy lips, then delivered a long lick right up the middle.
“Fuck!” she groaned.
God, his mouth felt so good, his tongue warm and wet and moving in slow circles around her clit. Her eyes went to the door, but god help her, she didn’t want to stop him.
He wasted no time in working two fingers of his free hand into her dripping wet core, pulling them in a come hither gesture. It touched a place inside Cameron that was so sensitive that she nearly pulled him away.
He sealed his lips over her clit and sucked gently, and she almost came off the desk. Her hands landed in his hair, trying hard not to grip it. He sucked her clit again, and she writhed under his attentions.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she said.
He worked his fingers in and out and lapped at her pussy while she cried out, louder and louder.
“Yes! Yes yes yes—” she chanted.
The orgasm hit her head on, making her squeeze the fingers he had inside her. She felt like she was made of glass, and he had a sledgehammer, making everything come crashing down.
He withdrew and stood between her legs again, kissing her slowly. She could taste herself on his tongue, was ashamed to admit that she thought it was sexy as hell.
Just as Smith leaned in, letting her feel the weight of his cock through his tuxedo pants, the desk phone rang.
They both froze, not knowing what to do. Cam’s heart still beat fast in her chest.
“Shit,” he said, looking at his watch. “That’s Bangkok.”
“I should—” she started, already squirming.
“Just wait a second,” he said, reaching across her to snag the phone. “It won’t take long.”
She bit her lip. How long was not long?
“Hello?” he said. “Yes, this is Smith.”
He picked up the phone’s base and carried it a ways away. She couldn’t just sit here, so exposed. She stood and pulled her panties up.
Smith turned back, frowning at her. To Bangkok, he said, “Uh huh. Well, the projections are just that. Projections.”
Cameron was having some serious regrets now, especially faced with her job like this. She straightened her spine as much as she could and moved toward the door.
It did not escape her attention that she was leaving just as she’d gone in, straight-backed and confused.
She didn’t look back when she hit the door, just quietly let herself out. She grabbed her purse and phone from her desk and raced to the elevators. Luckily most everyone had gone home for the day, so no one saw her embarrassment.
What the hell had she done? She was supposed to be keeping things between them professional, not letting him go down on her in his office.
She blushed and bit her lip when she had to walk by several people on her way out of the building. Logically, she knew that they couldn’t tell what she’d been doing, but she still hurried past them.
Her phone rang when she made it to the street. Cam was worried that it might be Smith, demanding she should come back, but it was Erika.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Thank god, you finally answered your phone,” Erika said.
“I was…” she started, then stopped. “I was working.”
“I just got back from a meeting of the editorial board. They don’t think you’ve gotten far enough with the assignment.”
Cameron halted in her tracks. “What?”
“The board wants results, Cameron. They need concrete proof, and they need it soon. Otherwise they’re going to pull you from the assignment and work through some of the other sources.”
“They can’t! I’ve not even been in position a month,” she said.
“I know.”
“They can’t pull me off my first real assignment! I won’t get another chance like this.”
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” she asked, tears forming in her eyes.
“Well, kid, if I were you, I’d be using any kind of pull I had to get some information. Blackmail, sex… anything.”
Cam blew out a breath. “Is that the approach the board wants me to take?”
“They don’t want to know the details, trust me. They just want a great story to take to press. They know they’ll award someone for bringing them Calloway Corp. It’s your job to be that someone.”
She was quiet for a long second.
“Cameron, you can do this,” Erika said. “There’s a reason I championed you, instead of the two female copy editors we have.”
That, and the fact that I happen to be much more conventionally attractive, Cam thought sourly.
“Okay. I got the message,” she said. “Quick and dirty.”
“That’s the spirit!” Erika said. “I’ve got to run, but keep the message in mind.”
“Okay—” she said, but Erika had already hung up.
Cameron stared at her phone. To get the information she needed, she would have to apply pressure… and she knew all too well what kind.
Throwing a last glance over her shoulder at Calloway Plaza, she began her journey home.
9
Smith drummed his fingers on the bar, looking at the couple next to him. They were passionately snogging, really going at it.
It made him think of his latest relapse with Cameron, last night in his office. The woman was like a drug he couldn’t kick, driving him mad with need if he went too long without a hit.
Smith had just been so fucking angry with her after seeing her with that friend of hers the other night, that when she had confronted him and protested that there was nothing going on between them, he’d lost all semblance of self-control.
He’d cornered her, just needing to feel her. To taste her and hear her pleasure at his hands.
Bloody well attacked her, is more accurate, Smith grumbled internally to himself.
He was not proud of his impulsive behavior, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not when Cameron had been moaning on his desk, panting with the same need that he’d felt so strongly since that kiss in Paris.
Smith had been so distracted with mental images of her cumming against his mouth and her splayed, stocking-clad thighs around his head, that he’d ended up leaving last night’s charity dinner hours earlier than he’d intended. Just so he could go home and wank himself off a couple times, desperate to relieve some of the pressure that welled up inside of him every time he thought about her.
Smith looked at his watch, needing a diversion from the lustful couple still mauling each other, onlookers be damned.
7:57. He was a few minutes early yet for his meeting with the private investigator.
He sipped his bourbon, hoping it would soothe his nerves. He’d gotten the name of a top investigational firm from the internet. When he called, they were very solicitous, promising to send over their best and most discreet associate right away.
Smith had never done something like this before. He didn’t know what to expect, and that didn’t sit well with his penchant for control.
At exactly 8:00, a woman appeared over his shoulder.
“Mr. Calloway?”
He turned and looked at her, surprised. She was a petite, attractive Asian woman, with a gorgeous body wrapped in a blue chiffon frock. When Smith thought of P.I.s, he pictured mildly overweight, middle-aged white men, wearing fedoras and smoking cigars. Never would he have imagined this dainty little Asian woman to be one, ever.
Which is probably why she came so highly recommended.
“Yes, that’s me,” he said, recovering quickly from his shock.
She smiled politely at him, probably used to trumping people’s stereotypes about private investigators at this point in her career. She held out her hand to shake his.
“My name is Lindsay Wu,” she said perfunctorily, releasing his hand. She glanced around the small restaurant. “Would you care to get a booth so we can discuss details of my investigation into Calloway Corp more privately?”
“Alright,” he said, leaving some cash on the bar before leading her over to the more secluded seating area on the far side of the room.
They sat down across from each other at the booth. Lindsay set her slim leather briefcase on the table, folding her hands piously on top of it as she looked at him.
“Tell me, Mr. Calloway,” she said, cutting right to the chase. “What concerns you enough that you would need to hire an outside investigator?”
He cleared his throat, strangely nervous all of a sudden. The delicate woman was bloody intimidating, making him feel like she was interrogating him as much as the goings on of his company.
“It’s been brought to my attention that someone in the top tier of my company has been mismanaging funds. Or outright stealing, if you prefer,” Smith said, opting for the same bluntness she was using.
She lifted a slim eyebrow, intrigued. “You don’t have any idea who?”
Smith shook his head. “No. I do know that it has to be one of these people,” he said, pulling a list out of his jacket pocket and handing it to her from across the table. “These are the people with direct access to the money. You’ll see that I am on the list, as well as my father, just so you can get an idea of the company structure.”
“I see,” Lindsay Wu murmured to herself in response, her dark eyes briefly flicking over the list, before tucking it away in her briefcase.
“What are my budgetary constraints?” she asked, looking back up at him.
“None. I’ll pay for you out of pocket.”
“Is there anything else I should know before I get started?”
“Well… I’ll email you a link to everyone’s work schedules. They’re all kept online.” Smith ran a hand back through his hair, wishing he had more information to offer her. “If there’s anything else you think you might need, I’d be happy to supply it to you when the time comes.”
“Alright,” Lindsay nodded, apparently unperturbed by the ambiguousness of her starting point in the investigation. “Once you sign the paperwork legally hiring me, I’ll start with background checks and go from there.”
“Perfect,” he said, sliding out from the booth and standing as she did, their meeting over as quickly as it began. “I hope you find out who it is quickly.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Calloway,” she said, offering him the first hint of a real smile since she’d introduced herself. She shook his hand one last time. “I always find my mark in the end.”
She slipped out of the restaurant without another word, leaving Smith alone once more as he silently admired Miss Wu’s directness and confidence in her abilities. The woman was not to be underestimated, at least not by him. He imagined many people made that mistake with her in the past, only to sorely regret it later.
Smith showed himself out of the restaurant, looking at the time again. It was only a quarter after, which only further reaffirmed his appreciation for the private investigator’s efficiency.
He was meeting up with some friends in a little while, which was nothing new. But he was contemplating whether or not he should invite Cameron along this time, as his date.
Not as his date, per se. More like a... guest, or fellow acquaintance.
That I just so happen to enjoy having sex with, his brain amended unhelpfully.
Smith ignored that thought the best he could.
The truth was, he hadn’t spoken to Cameron since she’d scurried out of his office last night when they’d been interrupted by the phone call from Bangkok. He needed to see her, if only to gauge her reaction to what had happened for himself. The woman was as tightlipped as him when it came to... whatever this was that was going on between them, and he was surprised to find how much that frustrated him.
Before he could think twice, Smith called her, just as his town car was pulling up to the curb. He tried not to think about the ramifications of what he was doing as he listened to the phone ring on his line, waiting for her to pick up.
“Hello?” she answered at last, sounding slightly breathless.
Smith humored himself by thinking she sounded that way because it was him calling her, and not because she had to hustle to answer the phone in time.
The thought made him smile a little.
“Hey. Get dressed. Meet me for drinks at Haro in an hour,” he said without preamble, sliding into the spacious back seat of the car.
“Haro? Isn’t that kind of… romantic?” she asked, sounding a little uneasy.
“No funny stuff, I promise.” Unless that’s what you’re hoping for. “I’m meeting my friends, so there will be a lot of interesting people there. You never know, you might make an important connection,” he mused easily, dangling the prospect of professional advanceme
nt in front of her.
She was silent for a moment, but she took the bait as he knew she would.
“Alright, I’ll be there.”
“Okay,” Smith said casually, not wanting to sound as pleased as he suddenly felt. “See you there.”
He hung up the phone, sighing contentedly to himself as he relaxed back against his seat. He would get to see her tonight, and, right now, that’s all that mattered to him.
10
“Oi, mate! Stop watching the bloody door. It’s not going to go anywhere,” James heckled, having caught Smith glancing toward the entrance to the dining room one too many times.
Smith rolled his eyes, but turned back to the table anyway. James was grinning like a fucking idiot, while Thomas and Charlie chortled along at Smith’s expense. He let them laugh, unfazed by their jesting.
The three of them had already been well into their cups by the time he’d gotten to Haro, and that had been nearly thirty minutes ago now. They’d always been a legless bunch, ever since Smith had first met the lot of them at university years ago. Not much was different these days, except now they all got tankered in fine dining establishments while wearing multi-thousand dollar suits, instead of underground nightclubs in East London.
“Piss off, you,” Smith threw back good-naturedly, taking a long pull from his drink and setting the empty glass back down on the table.
He looked up, feeling all their eyes still on him, watching him curiously. Smith rolled his eyes again, relenting to their unspoken questions with a sigh.
“I’m expecting someone, and she’s late,” he explained reluctantly, trying not to eye his watch as he said it.
That got their eyebrows raised.
“She?” Charlie repeated, sounding intrigued. “You invited a lady friend tonight, did ya?”
Smith struggled for a moment to find the right words to describe his relationship with Cameron.
“Her name is Cameron, and she’s... a colleague of mine, yes.”
Smith signalled the waiter for another drink as the other three men at the table shared a knowing look with one another.
