The Deep End

by AM Hartnett

  Grace stopped at the head of the table and leaned back. Inside, she was spiralling. Outside, she matched his composure. ‘You are thorough.’

  ‘So are you, in more ways than one.’

  She curled her fingers around the edge of the table. ‘Am I fired?’

  ‘What was his name? The last one, the one in Caroway’s office today.’

  ‘Sir, I’d like an answer to my question.’

  ‘You’re very formal. It’s like an on-and-off switch. I think you’re trying to take control away from me, like you do with your lovers.’ His chair squeaked as he leaned back. Still, he remained hidden in shadow. ‘No, you’re not fired. Not if you tell me his name.’

  ‘I don’t think –’

  The room filled with a chaotic sound: a woman moaning, panting, urging.

  ‘You are hungry for a cock, aren’t you?’

  Grace couldn’t breathe as she stared at the man in shadow and listened to the grainy voice of her man from Breton-Craig, and then her own.

  ‘You want to watch me rub my pussy while you fuck me?’

  ‘Spread you open and keep you wet like this all night long.’

  ‘Oh, fuck … just a little more …’

  The sound cut off.

  ‘His name.’

  If she couldn’t remember before, there was no way she’d think of it now. Her brain was fried. She no longer felt cold; she was on fire.

  It was another moment before her tongue loosened. ‘I don’t know, I can’t remember. He’s an executive with Breton-Craig. We flirted at dinner last night.’

  ‘Did you fuck him last night or did you wait until this afternoon?’

  Though she was beginning to feel cornered, she refused to give up her composure. She spoke matter-of-factly. ‘No. He was drunk by the end of the night, and I needed to be here at seven o’clock.’

  ‘Did you want to last night?’

  Grace nodded. ‘Yes, I did.’

  He said nothing, and she was fraught with turmoil. Taureau had been right; the need for control gnawed at her. She took the opportunity in his silence to try and gain some semblance of an upper hand.

  She gripped the edge of the table. ‘Is this the real reason you rang me tonight? You want the filthy details?’

  ‘I don’t need filthy details. I’ve seen them with my own eyes. No, I was curious. At one point in the video from today you looked right at the camera. I wanted to find out whether you were that clever and knew you were being watched.’

  He moved again, this time to reveal a little more of his face. He had a strong chin dappled with whiskers and a wide mouth. The burgundy shirt he wore was unbuttoned partway to reveal a lightly furred chest. Just the slightest hint of a naked body gave her a thrill she had to suppress.

  ‘How do you feel about being watched? Be honest with me.’

  ‘How do you know I’d be telling you the truth when my livelihood is hanging in the balance?’

  ‘Is it? I thought we’d settled this when you admitted you didn’t know his name. Miss Neely, I’m not firing you. Now please, tell me how you feel about being watched.’

  She had the urge to avert her gaze as a shiver teased between her shoulder blades. Indeed, when she made her connections at the office there was always the thrill of being caught, but that thrill only shimmered through her as she and her lover secreted themselves away. She wasn’t doing it because of any penchant for being watched.

  ‘I’ve never thought about it until tonight,’ she said honestly. ‘It’s never been my fantasy.’

  ‘Anonymous sex is your fantasy.’

  ‘It’s not anonymous,’ she insisted, then laughed at herself. ‘It’s not entirely anonymous. I do get their names most of the time.’

  ‘That’s more than I can say about my own activities these days, Miss Neely.’ Taureau chuckled, a low sound that surrounded her. ‘You’re evading my question again. Now that you know you’ve been watched all this time, how do you feel?’

  ‘Hot.’ His mouth twitched as the admission raced electric through her veins. ‘I would feel different if I found out there was a security guard jerking off somewhere, or if I caught someone peeking through a crack in the door.’

  ‘You’ve been lucky. No one’s caught on yet.’

  ‘But you have, and now that I know you’ve seen everything …’ She darted her gaze from side to side, wondering if he could see the slight movement as she pressed her thighs together. ‘You must know that’s one hell of a fantasy you’re peddling: a rich, brooding stranger watching me from the shadows while I’m bent over a table or a desk with a hard cock pounding between my legs.’

  A sharp hissing sound came from the speakers. Grace couldn’t help smiling.

  ‘Is that what you needed to hear so you won’t feel like a pervert the next time you’re rubbing out while watching me?’

  ‘There you go again, trying to get control from me. One would think you like to be in charge, but we both know that’s not true. You like to be pushed around a little. You like to be told what to do.’

  Regardless of how many miles separated them, Grace still felt the shift. It rushed up around her, leaving her light-headed as arousal weighed her down.

  ‘It’s late,’ she said quietly. ‘If you have no more questions for me, I should be on my way.’

  ‘I’m not quite ready to say good night yet,’ he answered quickly. ‘I enjoy talking to you. Too many people tell me what I want to hear, and apologise when I question them. You’re quite fearless.’

  Taureau went silent. On the screen she could see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. When the pulse stopped, when he held his breath, so did she.

  Something was about to happen. Even if she could think clearly, she doubted whether she could imagine what it might be, but whatever it was she was more than ready for it.

  He moved again, withdrawing further into shadow. ‘I want you to ask me again if there’s anything you can do for me, Miss Neely.’

  ‘Mr Taureau,’ she said, but had a hard time accepting that the sultry voice she heard was actually hers, ‘is there anything I can do for you?’

  The silence stretched on and on as the warmth flowed. A faint current went through her abdomen.

  Finally, Taureau said, ‘Show me your garters.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Taureau.’

  She thanked years of being able to stay focused under pressure for the steadiness in her voice and in her hands as she reached down, even as her heart began to drum a little faster.

  Her gaze fixed on the screen, Grace worked the skirt up, tugging one side at a time until the hem brushed the tops of her stockings.

  Taureau remained unmoving, his half-smile turning up the corner of his mouth. His dark sorcerer’s eyes seemed to look inside her.

  When she had revealed just an inch of the garter, she stopped.

  ‘Turn around. Keep going.’

  Grace obeyed. She wished she could see what he saw as she worked her skirt up around her waist. She could only imagine: black stockings, the creamy skin above bisected by the garters, her ass bare save for the skinny thong she wore.

  When she was exposed to him, she looked over her shoulder. ‘Is there anything else, sir?’

  ‘One hand on the table. Touch yourself with the other.’

  The fever inside her built, moving like a match to gasoline. Her face was on fire. She worked hard to draw a breath in and out.

  Grace bent forward, hand flat on the surface of the conference table. Looking straight ahead, she was faced with the same skyline she had been admiring only minutes ago. The pink hues that had streaked across the sky had gone translucent and the moonlight bled through.

  Goose flesh rose on her arms and legs. A thrill went up her spine. She knew even before she slipped her hand between her legs that she would find her panties soaked through.

  ‘Mr Taureau,’ she said in a murmur as she slid her fingers along the outline of her pussy, ‘tell me what I can do for you.’

  An
intake of breath preceded his words. The moment seemed to go on and on in silence as she stroked herself, her heart drumming faster and louder while she waited.

  Finally: ‘Come for me.’

  She couldn’t stop the moan that slipped over her lips and dissipated into the quiet. Closing her heavy lids so the panorama before her became a smudge, Grace ran her finger up and down. Her juices seeped through the thin lace barrier, wetting her fingertips.

  The world was surreal to her. It was as though she was participating in something that shouldn’t be: caught at last taking her pleasure at work, ensnared by the mythical Taureau himself in this wicked game.

  ‘Spread yourself a little more for me.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Taureau.’ She could barely get the words around her thick, useless tongue. She gave up on it and pressed the tip to the roof of her mouth. Placing her feet wider apart, she lifted her ass and rubbed herself through her panties.

  With every moment she grew wetter and hotter. Desperation was beginning to set in. The pressure against her clit wasn’t enough. Without waiting for his directive, Grace slipped her fingers beneath the band of fabric and delved into the wet heat she found.

  All around was his heavy breathing and the unmistakable sound of shifting clothes. ‘Stop. Turn around.’

  Her knees were weak as she pushed herself upright. She said a prayer in her head that he wouldn’t draw out her pleasure or, worse, deny it. Now that she was under his spell, she would do what he asked.

  Facing the screen, Grace gritted her teeth at the sight of him now. He had moved the computer, the camera, whatever it was he used. In addition to his hard mouth and strong chin, she now discovered him shirtless with his pants bunched at his knees. His cock was delectably thick and long, the smooth underside meeting an inflamed crown, the tip shining with precome.

  ‘Tell me,’ she said, her voice cracking as she watched him tug the skin along the shaft, ‘tell me what you want me to do.’

  ‘Strip down to only the garters and stockings.’

  Her hands shaking and her fingers almost useless, she fumbled to shuck off her blouse and skirt. It seemed like she’d never free herself of her bra. She sighed with relief as the garment finally gave way and the straps slid down her shoulders.

  The sound of his breath came in hard, static spurts. That almost-smile was back on his mouth. His hand slowly worked the thick-veined column he held in his palm.

  Finally, he spoke. ‘On the table. Lie back and spread for me.’

  She obeyed and perched on the edge of the table, then leaned backwards and propped herself on her elbows. Dragging the soles of her shoes across the polished surface, she drew her knees close to her and spread them as far apart as she could.

  ‘Like this?’

  He grunted, and the rhythm of his hand picked up pace. ‘Show me.’

  Grace’s words came out as a whisper. ‘Yes, Mr Taureau.’

  She ran her hand from the hollow of her throat, scraping her fingernails over her breastbone, between her breasts, and lower, lower, lower until the tips of her fingers met slick flesh.

  Teasing herself, teasing him, she ran the pad of her middle finger back and forth over the soft hood covering her clit. It was a technique she had never used when performing for a lover. This was hers alone, and she joyfully gave it to him.

  As her finger worked and her clit swelled from its sheath, Grace chewed her bottom lip and watched his performance. Her mouth watered as she watched that big hand squeezing his dark cock.

  She longed to have it in her mouth at that moment, sliding back and forth between her lips and over her tongue while she touched herself.

  ‘Is this what you do?’ she asked, fingers slipping lower to tease at the wet mouth below. ‘I mean, do you prefer to watch rather than take part?’

  ‘It depends on my mood.’ His voice trembled in sync with the motions of his big hand. ‘Sometimes I pay people to come to me just to perform. Sometimes I pay them to fuck.’

  ‘Why pay them?’

  ‘It’s easier to keep them quiet that way.’

  A stab of irritation went through her. She didn’t like the implication that she was anything like the people she paid. She lifted her head to glare at the screen, but he cut her to the quick.

  ‘The conversation is over, Miss Neely. You should be focused on what you can do for me, and right now you can show me how you finger-fuck yourself.’

  Grace’s combativeness fizzled and was wholly replaced by the need to come for him. Her gaze still on the screen, where he jerked his cock with steady strokes, she matched his pace. She plunged her fingers deep into her pussy, then withdrew completely to slide up to her clit.

  A damp fever formed on her cheeks, across her neck, under her arms, behind her knees and between her legs. The only way to expel the energy threatening to burn her up was in strangled whimpers that coincided with guttural moans from Taureau.

  ‘Come on, Miss Neely,’ he said in a growl. ‘Let me see you get off before I do.’

  At this order she gave all, opening up as far as she could for him as she strummed her clit. Friction started an unstoppable fire that instantly enveloped her.

  Though she hated to drag her gaze from him, she tilted her head back and gave in to splotches of coloured lights that accompanied the sudden tremor racing up and down her pussy that culminated in a glorious explosion.

  Through the red cloud of need broken by white jolts of electricity, she was acutely aware that Taureau was attuned to everything. If he had been in the same room with her, she couldn’t have felt his presence more. As the last few throbs rendered her useless, she smiled and plunged her fingers into herself. Taureau made a choking sound, and Grace opened her eyes and lifted her head in time to see the first eruption rain down on his hand.

  Licking her lips, she watched him to the finish, until his hand fell away and what she could see of his body went lifeless.

  She couldn’t think of a single thing to say to rouse him, and in the end decided to simply flop back and try to catch her breath.

  Worrisome reality nudged her but she shooed it away. She didn’t have it in her to think about her position with the company, or even the next few moments, in which Taureau could say anything.

  The moment had to end, and it did with the sound of Taureau moving. Grace lifted her head and saw his bare ass fill the screen as he stood turned away from her and cleaned himself up.

  She pushed herself to the edge of the table and hopped off. All was so silent as she wriggled back into her skirt that she feared he’d disconnected, but when she turned she found him in the same position as at the start, leaning back with his hand on his chin and watching her.

  ‘You won’t fuck any more strangers or co-workers in my building,’ he said. ‘If you open your legs in this room or any other room, it will be for me.’

  Grace straightened, a sad attempt at composure considering how dishevelled she felt. Still, she smiled. ‘Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr Taureau?’

  His chuckle was so wicked it transformed Grace’s smile into something naughty. ‘Miss Neely, there are many things you can do for me, and in time you will.’

  Grace tingled with pleasure as she leaned against the table and crossed one foot over the other. ‘Yes, Mr Taureau.’

  Chapter Two

  Grace prided herself in excelling under pressure. Most of the biggest fuck-ups in the office landed at her desk, and without flinching she merely forged ahead, coming out on the other side of carnage victorious.

  But, riding the elevator to the thirteenth floor the next morning, she was actually sweating.

  After she’d disconnected with Taureau, after she’d gotten behind the wheel of her SUV and picked up supper, after she’d gone nose-deep into the bath, she’d been calm. She’d actually been proud of herself for performing so well at Taureau’s edicts, and grew unspeakably hot as she remembered how he’d told her to finger-fuck herself.

  She crawled into bed and killed the ligh
t and replayed the entire evening for about an hour before pulling out her vibrator. That gravel voice was in her head as she rolled the tapered end around her clit, and she screamed through one climax before plunging the vibe deep and bringing forth another.

  Daylight was a different matter. She opened her eyes and stared at the toy she’d left discarded on the rug by her bedside. It all came back to her in a wave, but she was far from in the mood to relive that illicit encounter in the boardroom.

  I’m going to get fired today.

  As she prepared her coffee, double her usual amount – she had slept deep, but not long – she found herself wondering about Taureau’s mental state. She had never believed that he was mad, like some said. Paranoid, yes, but she doubted anyone would be completely there upstairs if they’d been butchered in their own bed.

  Though he had been the intruder and had instigated their pornographic game last night, by the time she hit the shower she had convinced herself that Taureau had set a trap for her, that he had eased her anxieties with that little spiel about solitude only to bully her into putting on a show, shame her with one last performance, and send the evidence to Caroway.

  But he didn’t bully you into anything, did he?

  And that was the worst of it. If she’d become the pawn of a crazy recluse for one night, there was no one to blame but herself. She’d put herself in this position. From the first quickie in the ladies’ room with that intern to the hard fuck with her Breton-Craig man the day before, she’d screwed around at the office and she had been caught.

  Even if she had enjoyed herself immensely with him, this was all on her shoulders.

  That it was Taureau who had done the catching was irrelevant. She had to accept responsibility and hope that Caroway was generous enough to give her a civil referral. After all, she had been one hell of an assistant when she wasn’t on her back or on her knees for someone else.

  Still, she wasn’t relishing the humiliation that was coming. The thought of sitting across from Caroway, waiting for him to get through his gratitude for her years of service and waiting for the axe to fall on her career and reputation, made her sick.