by Stella Rhys
Unlike my fellow caf regulars, I didn’t mind the crowd. The luxe room was far too big and beautiful for the meager amount of people it usually attracted. Like the offices of Hoult Communications, it was a sleek, blindingly white double-height space with a second floor and matching double-height windows to let the sun pour in. Filled with people, it felt much less like a sterile, futuristic museum.
And, of course, the crowd was also better for people watching, which I got to enjoy with Lia this afternoon since she was in the building to visit Lukas.
“Sorry, love.” I forked around my salad before digging in. “Pretty sure the boss and I are at a standstill.”
“I should have known you two were too similar,” Lia crinkled her nose. “You and Julian having sex would probably be nonstop rolling over to fight for the top. You would need wrestling mats and an entire gym.”
I choked on a crouton. “Please keep in mind the man works in this building.”
“He owns the building. What do I care?”
“Yeah, also, please don’t remind me that he owns the building.”
“Why not?” Lia grinned, studying the frustration on my face. “Because his power turns you on?”
“Yes, very much so, actually. And right now, I’m trying to manage my arousal for the sake of maintaining utmost professionalism.”
“Right. How’s that going, by the way?”
“Swimmingly. Hence the standstill.”
“So you’ve officially mastered the casual-despite-my-wet-panties look?”
“You’ll be proud to know that I have.”
Lia popped one of my croutons in her mouth. “Well, that’s good because here comes my boyfriend and your boss looking like an Armani billboard.”
For the second time, I nearly asphyxiated. Coughing sharply, I found myself with just enough time to shoot Lia daggers before Lukas approached our table with Julian trailing two steps behind. His eyes were already fixed tight on me, and unless I imagined it, he didn’t look pleased.
“Hey, Julian,” Lia greeted him brightly. He was humorless as he slid his hands in his pockets and looked at her like he knew she was talking shit a second ago.
“Hello.” From her, his eyes turned to me. “Sara.”
“Mr. Hoult.”
“Oh, God,” Lia grimaced. “Do you really make her call you that?” she asked Julian, who looked decidedly elsewhere, as if looking for an escape. Seeing none, he answered Lia blankly.
“I don’t, actually.” He lifted his gaze to me. “I remember telling you as much, Sara.”
“My apologies. I must have forgotten.”
“Oh no. Couple’s quarrel?” Lia cringed. I shot her a look. “What?” She played dumb. “I can tell you guys what Lukas and I do to fix things after we fight.”
“Lia,” I warned in unison with Lukas. Hardly a rare occurrence anymore, considering the balls she’d grown of late.
“Seriously. You all know I ignored this advice for too long myself, but sometimes you just gotta bang it out and – ”
“I’m getting a coffee,” I announced, making a beeline for the bar while texting furiously along the way.
ME: Holy shit woman cool it. He’s still my boss. Remember that whole professionalism thing?
LIA: I do.
LIA: Makes me wonder why he’s mentally removing your skirt as you walk away.
I turned around to catch Julian staring at me. There was no flicker of apology in his eyes, which I found oddly daunting, so I averted my gaze and focused on approaching the coffee bar. I started to order, but I could tell by the way the young barista paused and looked past me that Julian was approaching.
“I should have considered Lia before hiring you.”
My pulse picked up. I didn’t need to turn around to gauge his proximity. Hit with his masculine scent, my entire body tensed up.
“What about her?”
“She’s here enough as it is for Lukas,” Julian said before finishing my coffee order with the barista and adding a double espresso for himself. “But aside from that, I’d prefer you two refrain from discussing whatever it was that you clearly were just now.”
I stepped back to stare in disbelief at him.
“I would think this was obvious, but forbidding certain topics of conversation with my friends is way outside the realm of what you’re allowed to do as my boss.”
“I’m aware of that,” he said dryly. “What I’m asking is for you to not discuss anything sexual that happened between us while you’re on work premises. I’m sure you’ve noticed, but this large building is a rather small community. People talk, and I have no interest in giving them anything to discuss.”
“Fair enough. I apologize on Lia’s behalf,” I said tartly. “She’s not usually like this.”
“I know her as well, Sara, and she’s always like this.”
“You’ve only known her for as long as she’s been dating Lukas,” I argued. “And it’s only because of him that she’s gotten this carefree and outspoken, which, in her defense, is not a bad thing. I guess it’s just what happens when you’re in a happy and fulfilling relationship.”
“You guess?” Julian repeated.
My reply was clipped. “Yes. I can only guess.”
“That’s right.” Julian leaned back on his heels, offering a cordial smile to the barista as she set our drinks on the counter. “Fulfilling was the opposite of the last relationship you had,” he smirked as he grabbed our coffees and handed me mine. “See you back at the office, Ms. Hanna.”
My mouth dropped open as I watched him go, realizing at a delay what he was even referring to – the depressingly underwhelming sex life I’d once had with Vanilla Jeff, my former friend with benefits.
What… in the actual fuck?
Standing there, I fumed. Well, that was definitely not playing fair. The rules of our office Cold War were one, be professional and two, be professional. Mentioning the sex life he’d overheard me talk about on the night he fingered me to orgasm did not constitute as professional. At all.
I pursed my lips into a line as I watched him go, but in all honesty, it was no problem to me. I’d been itching to even slightly cross the line with him, so if Julian wanted to play dirty, then fine.
I was more than happy to.
11
SARA
“Sure you don’t want to come with us?” Colin asked, slinging the strap of his briefcase onto his shoulder. “Is it because of the pineapple shorts?” His smile was deliberately awkward. “Oh God, it’s because of the pineapple shorts.”
“It’s not because of the pineapple shorts,” I laughed, though I did need a second look at his pineapple printed shorts.
Thanks to the heat wave, a memo had been sent out earlier in the week regarding post-work changes of clothes. The general rule for Hoult Tower was that work appropriate clothing was required so long as you were in the building, even if you were off the clock. That meant no changing at the end of the day and walking out in shorts and T-shirts. So long as you were within its walls, you were to properly represent Hoult Tower.
Except this week.
I hadn’t taken advantage of the amendment yet, but today, I had a change of heart – and an actual change of clothes with me, thanks to the bag Lia dropped off at reception.
LIA: I know you said to bring something “reasonably” sexy but I decided that wasn’t fun. Off to the Hamptons with Lukas now so you can’t kill me ok love you bye
Oh Jesus.
I braced myself as I went over to reception to pick up my change of clothes. I peeked into the bag on my way to the bathroom and had to say, “Jesus, Lia,” for what she’d purchased me to wear. I’d asked for “reasonably sexy summer clothes, but nothing too crazy.” She gave me ripped denim shorts that would make Daisy Duke blush. One pair was white, the other light blue. Thankfully, the tops she chose weren’t studded bustiers like I half expected they’d be, so with a few texts to my fellow cafeteria regulars, I started changing.
Wh
en I emerged from the bathroom, Colin caught me.
“Whoa,” he said, adjusting his black frames.
I laughed. Well, that’s a good sign. As far as professionalism went, Colin was the one person who bested even Julian. I was positive that following the rules was his number one turn-on, so for him to check me out was pretty big.
“You look… very wow,” he said, blushing as he eyed my little blue shorts and flowy white top. But with a nervous glance up the stairs, he cleared his throat. “Oh Christ, he’s gonna fire me now,” he laughed under his breath before flashing a tight-lipped smile and hurrying off.
I chewed the corner of my mouth, well aware that I was going to turn around to find Julian at the top of the steps. Still, when I did, my heart thumped. His authority was unquestionable from this angle, and his voice practically echoed in the empty office.
“Sara. A word.”
There it is. I’d expected some kind of reaction, so with a nod, I started up the stairs. But he stopped me halfway up.
“I need you to change out of that first.”
I paused. “Excuse me?”
“That’s not workplace appropriate. Put on what you were wearing before,” Julian said before disappearing into his office.
Completely stunned, I stared up the steps, physically unable to blink.
Are you fucking serious?
I had expected a reaction, but definitely not this. This took the fun out of it pretty much immediately.
Already furious, I trudged back into the women’s room to violently shimmy out of my shorts and yank off my shirt, my heartbeat rising as I buttoned myself back into my top and zipped myself back into my skirt. Out of pure defiance, I opted out of the belt I’d had on. It was my pathetic little form of rebellion before marching up the steps and into Julian’s office.
He was just getting seated behind his desk as I walked in.
“Was that really necessary?” I demanded upfront.
He glanced up at me while adjusting his tie. “You can’t dress like that here,” he said casually before turning his eyes to his computer screen. My jaw tightened.
“Everyone changed after work today. Not just me.”
“Everyone changed into something casual, like a summer dress, or a polo and shorts.” Julian slid his gaze to me and let it dip. “Denim panties weren’t what I had in mind when I sent that memo.”
“Well, I apologize,” I said as evenly as I could through clenched teeth. “But I do feel the need to point out that several other women in this office left in dresses that were the same length as my shorts, with no sleeves, and you didn’t call them in to reprimand them.”
“You’re right. I didn’t,” he said.
There was no follow-up.
Asshole. Standing before Julian’s desk, I fumed, thoroughly ticked off by how relaxed he was as he sat back, his jacket draped over the back of his chair and his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. I ripped my eyes off the deep lines of his forearms to arch an expectant eyebrow at him.
“So, I don’t get an explanation for that inconsistency?”
Julian took his time to switch his gaze from his screen to me.
“No,” he finally said.
Disbelief hissed from my lips.
“That hardly seems fair, and again, I can’t help but suspect you’re treating me differently than the rest of the office,” I said hotly. “Actually, you are treating me differently than the rest of the office. The fact of the matter is, I know why you’re singling me out. We both do. And for you to use that as a reason to make my life difficult today is completely unfair given your problem is something you alone created.”
Shit.
I was breathless. I didn’t know how it happened, but I’d just let it all out. I’d given my office-appropriate version of “if you want to fuck me, then fuck me” and suddenly, it was Julian’s turn to raise his eyebrows.
“And for what reason do you think I’m singling you out?” he asked.
“Can I say it or do I need to use your beloved corporate-speak?”
“Just say it.”
“Because you want to fuck me, Julian,” I ground out. “You want to fuck me, you won’t let yourself fuck me, so you’re taking it out on me – since that makes so much sense, right?” I gave him a second to answer and got nothing. “Right. Well, if you have nothing left to say, then I’m going to go. I have to find some Starbucks to change in now, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be late to meet the guys for happy hour, so bye.”
“Who are you meeting?”
It was less a question than a demand and it made my entire body tingle with fury. I turned back on my heel to face him.
“Guys from Kinsley-Weiss,” I answered, referring to the notorious boys club on the thirty-third floor. I took a sick pleasure in the way Julian’s brow pulled together.
“Just you and them?”
“Just me and them.”
“I thought you were going to drinks with Colin.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I decided against it. He works in my office, so it’s probably safer to have drinks with men I don’t run the risk of losing my job with should I choose to go home with them.”
Julian’s shoulders went rigid. He still looked poised, controlled, but I could see the glint of fire behind his blue eyes.
“So your plan is to sleep with someone tonight.”
“That’s none of your business, and I’m leaving,” I muttered, but my breath caught fast in my throat because Julian stood in front of me within seconds. I started again toward the door, but he stepped neatly sideways to block me.
“It’s every bit my business when you’re going with people I know, and in particular don’t trust.”
I gave a bitter laugh.
“You strike me as someone who doesn’t trust, period, and we’ve already established the parameters of your authority over me, Julian. Yes, you can tell me what I can and cannot wear, but no, you don’t get to decide where I go after work or who I want to fuck, especially when I’m the one waiting for you,” I seethed. “You’re the one with the rule, so either make a move, asshole, or get out of my way.”
I could have sworn I saw hatred boiling in his eyes. I practically heard it in his voice when, with a glance at his desk, he finally spoke.
“Take a seat, Sara,” he said.
“Julian, I told you –”
“Unbutton your shirt before you sit down.”
I shut my mouth. A chill rippled over my skin as I watched Julian remove his hand from the door, his shoulders slightly relaxing.
“What exactly are you asking of me right now?” I clarified.
“I’m asking you to take a seat in front of my desk, Sara. And I want you to take your shirt off for me.”
Got it.
Turning stiffly, I saw him calmly return to his chair, watching me closely as I faced him once again. I was heated a second ago, but now I was hot. Searing. I swallowed away the tightness in my throat as I slowly made my way toward the desk, taking a seat in front of Julian as he’d asked me to.
“Unbutton,” he said with a glance down my front. I wet my lips as I shakily started but he stopped me. “Slowly.”
I glared. “Are you going to fuck me?”
“I don’t enjoy contradicting myself. If you’re making me break my rule, I’m going to take my time with you.”
I gulped.
Fair enough.
Breathing steady, I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, my eyes moving from the peek of my lacy bra to Julian’s wolfish gaze as he took me in from behind his desk. I kept my pace unhurried for him, despite the fact that it tormented me. It forced me to feel every ripple of sensation in slow motion, from the throbbing between my own legs to the shiver that crawled over the tops of my breasts as the ice-cold air hit my skin.
Leaning back, Julian simply watched me as I untucked my fully unbuttoned top from my skirt.
“Slow,” he reminded me as I let the shirt fall off my shoulders and down my arms. I shot hi
m a look as if to say, don’t push it. He smirked. “Am I exhausting your patience right now, Ms. Hanna?”
“You’ve been.” Arching my back, I folded my hands in my lap, sitting perfectly straight before him in just my black bra and tan pencil skirt. “You’re torturing me, actually, but I realize that’s the point.”
“You do pick things up quickly,” he murmured, eyes still on me as he undid his belt. “You know what I want to see next.”
He laughed as I rolled my eyes away from him, looking decidedly out the window at the view of the Empire State as I reached behind myself and unclasped my bra. My breasts felt swollen, painfully heavy as the lace cups fell out from underneath them. I heard the sharp breath Julian drew in, and when I returned my eyes to him, I bit down hard on my lip. He looked every bit the practiced and polished authority he always did in that chair.
The only difference now was that he had his hard cock out, his hand wrapped around it, stroking languidly from root to tip.
My sex clenched from the sight alone. My hands instinctively moved toward the zipper behind my skirt, but Julian stopped me.
“Keep it on,” he said. “Stand up for me.”
I smirked.
“Let me guess,” I said, inching my fingers down my sides and curling them to gather up my skirt. I felt the rush of wetness in my pussy as I stood there pulling my skirt up for Julian, his gaze pinned so tight on me I felt magnetic. He didn’t so much as blink let alone look away as I sat back down in my panties, my skirt hiked up and my hand idling between my thighs.
“Do it,” he said. “Touch yourself.”
I did, closing my eyes as I pushed the lace aside to circle my fingers over my clit. That first wave of heat surged up my body and settled in my cheeks. My pulse was in my ears, but I could still hear when Julian’s chair creaked forward and his footsteps neared.
Writhing under my own fingers, I kept my eyes shut. I wasn’t ready for the sight of him yet. I wanted to process this first – the fact that I was sitting topless and touching myself in Julian Hoult’s shiny office at the top of the tower.
But I had little time before I felt him reach down from above me, his fingertips on the underside of my breast. I shivered when his hand fully cupped me and slowly squeezed.
