Feeling Some Type of Way

by Vera Roberts

  “What do you mean? I listen to your advice all of the time!” He took a sip of the champagne. “Sometimes I wouldn’t know what to do if it wasn’t for you!”

  “No, I don’t mean as your assistant. I mean personally.” I sipped the champagne. “You always flirted with me but you never took me out on a date.”

  “I take you to lunch all of the time. I gave you some pretty nice birthday and Christmas gifts.” His sharp blue eyes blinked at me. “I think our relationship is pretty personal.”

  The first year I worked for Ian, he asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I told him I had my eye on a necklace from the local jewelry shop I was saving up for. To my amazement, he bought it. The next year, he asked what I wanted for my birthday and I told him I didn’t have a clue. At lunch, he surprised me with a mini-shopping spree at Celine and Jimmy Choo.

  I’m pretty sure a lot of bosses aren’t that personal with their assistants. “That’s different.”

  “You’re right,” he agreed with me, “not even the women I date get that generosity.”

  It was clear Ian saw me as a child, though tonight proved to him I was anything but. I wonder what else I would have to prove he was dealing with a grown-ass woman. “You’re really stuck on my age, huh?”

  “Part of it,” Ian admitted, “I also didn’t want to mix business with anything personal.”

  I didn’t know how to take that revelation. Ian made several personal comments to me over the past few years that told me he was interested but never pursued anything because well, he probably didn’t want a sexual harassment lawsuit. He actually said that in a jokingly matter, ‘I don’t want to get sued.’

  While I originally took it as a joke, I wonder if he was serious. “You honestly think I wouldn’t be able to separate what we do in the privacy behind closed doors and our working relationship?”

  “Yes,” his British accent caressed my ears, “I’m not saying you can’t, but I thought we got along better as friends. I loved cuddling with you but each time I made a move on you, you told me in not-so many words you weren’t ready. I backed off.”

  “But now everything is different,” I set my champagne glass down, “you saw a side of me that hardly anyone sees. Granted, it’s not every day I do amateur night at the local strip joint, but you’ve seen all of me. You can’t possibly say after tonight you’re willing to go back to our working relationship.”

  Ian grabbed my hand and rubbed his thumb over the back of it. His hand is strong and a bit dominant. I wonder how the rest of him would feel. “Domi, I’m 12 years your senior. You should be dating boys your own age. Frolic and do whatever your kids do nowadays, I don’t know.” He flashed that beautiful smile of his. “But you can see why I felt the way I did.”

  Ian was right – he was older than me and I knew that was also a deterrent from him dating me. I also knew that was a crock of shit. “You dated girls my age, Ian.”

  “No, I fucked girls your age, Domi.” He was clear as glass. “There’s a big difference.”

  I can’t knock his honesty. Ian never beat around the bush before and he wasn’t about to start. It’s something about him I love and loathe, though it can be rather endearing at times. “So, you won’t fuck me because you’re afraid I’ll become attached?”

  “You’re speaking of two different things now,” he turned to me, “at first, you were mad at me because I wouldn’t date you. Now you’re upset at me because I won’t fuck you. Which is it?”

  “Why does it have to be one or the other?” I ask. “Why can’t it be both? Why can’t you take me to a three-star Michelin-rated restaurant and then take me home and fuck me until I can’t talk?”

  “Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fuck you,” Ian’s eyes become serious and his British accent touched every nerve in my body, “maybe you’re worthy of being made love to.”

  There went my heart going pitter-patter and I felt my breathing slow down to a bare minimum. Did Ian just say to me what I think he did? I totally understand those Queen’s lyrics now:

  Is this real life? Or is this just fantasy?

  Ian grabbed my hand and softly kissed it. His lips are warm and gentle like the hidden part of him he tries in vain to keep secret. “I can’t treat you like the others, Domi. It wouldn’t be fair to you or to me. I have to treat you differently.”

  I shook my head because I’m not entirely sure what’s going on here. Did he take me on a trip back to the Friend Zone? Why didn’t he let me know so I could’ve gotten off at the last stop of Stupid Girl and Wishful Thinking? “Okay. Are you allergic to virgins?”

  “I beg your pardon?” He chuckled. “Am I allergic to virgins?”

  “Yes,” I doubled-down.

  Ian shook his head. “I’m sorry. What does that mean exactly?”

  “You never propositioned me. You never attempted to do anything beyond that kiss years back, which I believe now was a mistake on your part.” I explained.

  “No, it wasn’t,” he countered.

  “And I…” I paused as Ian’s words flowed through my body and hit directly on my soul. “…it wasn’t?”

  Ian is contemplating his thoughts and he softly opened his mouth a few times before he figured out exactly what he wants to articulate. I know it’s important because he usually just says whatever is the first thing on his mind, regardless of who’s feelings get hurt. “Domi, when I rescued you from my bar that fateful day, you told me you were a virgin. I immediately knew I wanted to be your first. After we kissed in the Rolls, I knew I wanted to be your only. You’re asking me to hold something of yours forever, no matter what happens between us.”

  My virginity. It wasn’t some sacred thing to me. Yeah, I know it doesn’t sound romantic but I never valued it as some prize girls are taught when they’re young.

  And when you marry her…tell him, Bob! What does he win?

  He wins her virginity!

  I’m a virgin because there are a ton of fuckboys out in the world and I’m rather picky about who I want to sleep with. Hell, I’m picky about who I kiss so yes, I’m going to be even pickier about who will finally experience the heaven between my thighs.

  “You’re asking me to help you blossom into a woman,” he caressed my hand again, “and I want to. Things will be different between us, however. You will no longer just be my assistant; you’ll be my woman. You’ll be the love of my life. In fact, if things progress, I might have to fire you.”

  “Fire me? I can’t be your assistant and your…” Gosh, just thinking about the term sent butterflies ablaze in my tummy. “…your woman at the same time? I can do both.”

  “I don’t want you to,” he ran his fingers through my locks, “if I become angry at something you did at work or vice-versa, I don’t want it to affect home.”

  “Home?” Is he asking me to move in? I’m not sure if that’s a commitment I want right now.

  “When you come here to spend the night, I don’t want you to be mad at me from earlier.” He explained.

  “Then what am I going to do with all of this free time I have?” I asked. I know some women would kill to be in my shoes, but I like working.

  “We’ll think of something. Something that could play to your strengths. Something that wouldn’t be an obvious conflict of interest.” He suggested. “But we’ll talk about that more later.” He stood up and held his hand out to me. I grabbed it and stood up beside him. He held me close by my waist and stared into my eyes. His eyes softened to an ocean blue and were just as relaxing. “What we’re about to embark will take place over several months, possibly years so you’re not hit with everything at once tonight. I need to ease you into everything.”

  I was excited and terrified at the same time. Several months? Several years? Would I be able to handle all of it? What if I hate it over a course of a few hours? Then what?

  “Stop thinking about it,” Ian seemingly read my mind and I gave a faint smile.

  “Sorry, I can’t help it.” I shrugged. “I
’ve never done this before.”

  “That’s why it’s going to happen over the course of several months instead of just one night. I want you to experience everything fully. You don’t know what you like and what you don’t but you will. And you’re going to teach me as we go along the way.” He walked me to his enormous bedroom and sat next to me. “I’m nervous, too.”

  “You’re not about to deflowered,” I rolled my eyes, “why would you be nervous?”

  “For as long as you live, you’ll always remember me. You’ll be pressed to remember anyone that might come after me but you’ll always remember your first.” He mentioned. “I want to make sure this is a great experience for you as well.”

  What other guy could after Ian? I saw no other – ever.

  “Relax,” He unbuttoned his sleeves and scrunched them up to his elbows, “I’ll call for you when I’m ready.” He went into the bathroom.

  I looked around Ian’s bedroom and was floored by the quiet extravagance of it. A four-poster bed was center with thick cream carpeting on the floor. Another rather large flat-screen TV hung on the wall, while two small love seats were in a small corner by the floor-to-ceiling windows. A mirrored wall was on the other side.

  I walked around his bedroom and found the very impressive walk-in closet that was the size of a boutique. It had its own sitting area and island, complete with a mannequin that was tailored to Ian’s physique and a full-length mirror.

  While Ian’s closet was amazing, a rather small detail stood out. A closed door led to another closet of equal size and exact replica of his. It was completely barren and seemed to be a placeholder for something. Or someone.

  Maybe that was a closet for her….me?

  I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I don’t know what’s going to happen with us after this sexual experiment I’m about to undertake. He might be a horrible lay and well, I’ll have the experience I slept with a weaksauce billionaire to reminisce when I’m old and grey.

  I don’t know what to expect and it’s better I go into these few days with a clear mind. It was about exploring who I was and what Ian could help me with. I might be a natural-born freak or maybe I might just be the Plain Jane I always thought I was.

  “Domi,” he called after me, “come here, please.”

  I followed his voice to his palatial bathroom. A large walk-in shower with raining showerhead was in a corner with a giant bathtub was next to it. Candles were lit everywhere; must’ve been a dozen or so.

  Ian sat on the tub as he made sure the water was just right. He glanced up at me and had a warm smile on his face. “Get undressed, baby.”

  Despite Ian just seeing me naked just a few hours ago, I suddenly became nervous. I didn’t have bright lights, thumping hip-hop music, and a crowd of rowdy strangers cheering me on.

  It was just us alone in his penthouse. It was so quiet I heard both of us breathing.

  “Is there a problem, Domi?” Ian asked.

  “Huh?” His words snapped me out of my daze. I didn’t realize I was just staring at him. “Um, no.” I unbuttoned the sweater blouse and removed my bra. I pulled my jeans off and then removed my panties. I began to pick them up and Ian stopped me.

  “I’ll take care of that,” he held up a hand and motioned for me to come to him, “I want you here.”

  I walked over to him, and he helped me into the warm bath. I recognized the smell of patchouli and jasmine in the milk bath. Ian grabbed a large sponge and began to bathe me, spreading the sponge all of my body. He went between my thighs and gently washed my sex before he squeezed the sponge around my breasts and shoulders.

  I closed my eyes and rested my head against the super soft bath pillow. For the first time in a long while, I was at ease. I didn’t have to question what Ian really thought of me or if I was just entertaining a stupid crush. I felt his eyes on me as he continued to bathe me. I wonder what his thoughts were, if he felt the same, and if he was ready to become my teacher in life.

  My partner in love and forever.

  “How are you feeling, baby?” He asked.

  My eyes opened and met Ian’s. A look of sexy confidence swept across his face as his eyes smiled at me. He definitely felt the same. “I feel wonderful,” my voice was barely a whisper.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” he stood up and shook off his dripping hand. Before my eyes, he stripped bare in front of me.

  For the first time, I got to see Ian in his glory. Beautiful was an understatement. His tawny skin was ripped but not too muscular. His washboard abs led to delicious hip dents. His legs were strong and muscular.

  His dick was long, cinnamon-colored, and perfect. It was mouth-watering beautiful and I wouldn’t normally say that about a man’s dick. His dick looked like it could touch my soul, send me to God, and then pull me right back down to earth once it was out of me.

  Ian’s dick deserved a certificate of achievement or participation or some shit. He was no starter dick, I’ll tell you that much. I needed to have pro-level certification.

  And I was ready to munch, crunch, slob, lick, spit…you name it!

  I kept my composure. I was excited to see him but Ian was daunting. A man much older than me with a baseball bat between his legs and experience on his side? I don’t know if I’m able to handle it.

  Somehow, I think Ian is going to teach me.

  He moved to the tub and got in with me. “Come here,” he directed.

  I moved over to Ian and sat in front of him. He wrapped his legs and arms around my body as he nibbled on my left ear. His hands reached up and massaged my breasts, slightly pinching the nipples as he continued.

  “It’s going to be a long lesson. I want to explore everything with you. I want to introduce you to new and wild things.” He firmly squeezed my breasts and kissed my earlobe, nuzzling his soft beard against my neck. “I want to experience all three of your holes.”

  I never had a man talk dirty to me, but Jesus, that was super hot. I felt more aroused than ever.

  “I want to give you your first orgasm and every one after that.” I felt one of his hands travel down to my sex. He caressed the soft pubic hair before walking his fingers down to my slick folds. I willingly parted my thighs for him and he wasted no time. He began worshiping my pink pearl, his fingers slithering across it.

  I gasped as I naturally began to ride his fingers. He had the fingers of a god. They were long and skillful, knowing when to pinch, caress, and massage me. They traveled down to my opening before climbing back up to my pearl, where the relentless pleasure continued.

  Heat formed in my belly and I panted to release the building tension. No, I can’t come yet. We barely just got started. My first orgasm can’t come this quickly!

  “Domi,” Ian moaned in my ear, “I want my write my name all over your yoni.”

  Okay, that did it. “Ian, fuck!” The orgasm hit me like a Mack truck and left me convulsing. It was my first orgasm but I’m sure it broke records all over the world for the fastest.

  He withdrew his fingers and wrapped his arms around me tight. Gosh, I’m so embarrassed. I didn’t think I would scream like that and Ian probably thought I was some rabid animal.

  I covered my mouth and shook my head. Next time I orgasm, I’ll keep silent and contained. I won’t be so loud and vulgar. “I’m sorry for that,” I apologized to him, “I didn’t mean to act like that.”

  “Why are you apologizing?” He asked me. “I thought it was beautiful.”

  Beautiful? Me coming hard and uncontrollably like that? “What?” I turned to face him. “You didn’t think it was too much?”

  “Domi, I want to see how many other reactions I can pull out of you.” He smiled. “That was only the beginning.”

  Six

  After we bathed together, Ian led me to the bedroom where he massaged my body with oil. His hands kneaded into my supple flesh like he’d always known where to touch me and when. I moaned and cooed with each touch, hoping not to sound obnoxious with my sounds but
silently praying he wouldn’t stop.

  His hands softly cupped my breasts, gently massaging them with firm grabs and pulls. He trailed his strong hands down my waist and massaged around my legs, getting underneath them and working his way back up.

  He found the vee of my sex and smoothed a hand over the soft pubic hair covering my mound. I watched him as he stared at it, caressing with the back of his fingers. He had a contemplative look on his face as if he were thinking of something serious. Or maybe it was just my imagination running wild as usual.

  “Have you ever had a man taste you?” He softly asked.