by Roya Carmen
Yet…
I’ve read his books, and they are dark. And there’s still all this mystery surrounding him – so many questions I don’t have answers to. I want to ask him about his wife, but Millie explicitly warned me not to go there. Am I putting myself in a vulnerable position if I have sex with this man? Deep inside, I know he would never hurt me, but still, a part of me can’t help being a bit guarded.
Who knows? We might not be on the same page at all. He might have something planned that I don’t want to do. He might want to go all Christian Grey on me because he thinks I’m into that. I did tell him I loved the Fifty Shades books during my first interview. Oh no… could that be why he hired me? Does he want to make me his own little submissive? I shake my head, trying to knock some sense into myself.
I definitely need to ask him a few questions.
I’m hesitant as I round the corner to his office. My feet don’t seem to be working properly. Suddenly these Louboutin heels seem impossible to walk in. As I peek into his office, he lifts his head, almost as if he’s been expecting me. I make my way slowly to his desk.
He’s a vision in black, a slim-fitting stylish black sweater and dark pants. His stubble has taken on a darker shade too. His eyes look green today, like sea glass. On a sexiness scale of one to ten, the man is an intolerable twelve. How is a woman supposed to make a rational and sensible decision under the allure of such beauty? I’m convinced he specifically planned this outfit with the intent of seducing me. He knew he would be proposing this arrangement today, and I’m sure he knows this isn’t a decision I take lightly.
“I really messed up,” Miko squawks, scaring the bejesus out of me.
I turn to him, a hand over my chest. “I think there’s more to that story. I’d love to know.”
August smiles but looks downright defeated. “Oh, it’s not him who messed up. It’s me.”
I’m curious as I take a seat across from him. “How so?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have approached my proposed arrangement so abruptly, so pragmatically.”
“It’s fine, August.” I’m not quite over it, but I can kind of see things from his point of view. Since he’s my boss, he’s in a sticky spot. He’s just trying to cover his bases. But I’m not shy; I’m fierce. I’m here to lay down the law. “My answer is still no, by the way.”
He leans back, a sombre expression playing across his beautiful features. “That’s fine.”
But I know his blood is boiling. My refusal is driving him mad, and I take a kind of sadistic pleasure in that. “And another thing… I just want to say for the record that although I loved the Fifty Shades books, I’m not into that whole BDSM thing.”
He smirks, a hint of mischief tracing his lips. “Duly noted.”
My thoughts catch me by surprise when they drift to the themes of his books. Twelve lashings earns you a few morsels of food, a hot bath, or perhaps a mind-blowing orgasm. “I’m really hoping you don’t have a ‘red room of pain’ stashed away somewhere in this house.”
He laughs heartily. “I do not.”
I cock a brow as I take in my beautiful, dark surroundings, including dark woods and colourful windows filled with religious imagery. “What is in that room at the end of the hall?”
His playful expression fades so swiftly it takes my breath away. It stings my heart. I’ve slapped him in the face.
He jerks his gaze away. “I’m afraid that’s none of your business.” But there is no anger in his voice, just a quiet sadness. “It’s private. But I can assure you it is no ‘red room of pain.’”
My foot still firmly lodged in my mouth, I struggle to go on. “I’m sorry. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page. It’s a ‘no’ at the moment, but I’m still considering it. If you can adhere to my rules, it might be a ‘yes.’”
His eyes soften, and a hint of a smile curves his lip as he looks at me again. “I’m happy to hear that.” He brings a finger to his mouth as he looks at me. I study him, and I imagine sucking that finger. And sucking on those sweet lips. “What are these rules of yours?”
“Well…” I’ve never felt this peculiar mix of emotions before: extreme arousal, wariness, awkwardness. It’s both enjoyable and extremely unpleasant. I look him straight in the eye when I say, “Absolutely no sex during office hours. That’s between the hours of nine to five.”
He nods. “I agree. Absolutely no funny business at the office,” he declares, nice and loud.
“No funny business at the office,” Miko repeats.
We share a laugh, and I chuckle so hard an embarrassing snort escapes from my nostrils. A blush creeps up my face as I bring my hand to my nose, mortified.
He only laughs more. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him laugh before. It’s a lovely sight. “So… so apparently we all know the rules,” he struggles to say between chuckles. “What else?”
My huge smile fades swiftly. “Well, in the event that this turns out disastrously, we part on amicable terms. I would leave my job, and you would provide a positive letter of reference.”
He nods. “Of course. I may have not told you this, and I apologize for that, but you’ve been doing a wonderful job. You’ve shown yourself to be smart, resourceful, pragmatic, reliable, and extremely creative.”
My heart swells. I hadn’t even realized it, but I do care what this man thinks. Every word is a delightful stroke to my ego. I know I’ve been doing a good job, but to hear it from him means so much. This job fulfils me and gives me a sense of accomplishment. It’s nice to know that little old me – the baby of the family, the black sheep, the free spirit – isn’t such a fuckup after all.
“Thank you,” is all I manage to say, but I look at him straight on, accepting the compliment without an argument or an excuse.
“I mean every word. I know it’s no secret that I’m attracted to you, but this has nothing to do with it. Honestly, even from the beginning, you were the only suitable candidate. In fact, I almost didn’t hire you because I suspected my attraction to you might be a problem.”
I’m intrigued by his confession. He’s been drawn to me from the start just as I have been to him. It’s a wonder we lasted this long without jumping each other. An overwhelming rush of heat fills me, and I can’t wait to lay my hands on the man.
Just a few more details to settle…
“Was there anything else you wanted to add?” he asks, so businesslike.
I’m struck by the absurdity of the situation, the way we’re addressing this intimate proposition. Soon, we will kiss, touch, and taste, take in each other with all our senses and delight in each other. Sex, even at its most primal, is an extremely intimate act.
“Well…” I hesitate a bit because this is a bit embarrassing. “I-I just want to make sure you won’t ask me to do anything I’m not comfortable with.”
He leans back in his chair, seemingly taken aback. He seems offended or blown away. “Ruby, I would never, ever put you in an uncomfortable position. The fact that you would even worry about that baffles me.”
“I-I’m sorry. W-we just don’t know each other that well… that’s all.”
He fiddles with his gold pen – the same pen he always uses. Almost every single time we’ve talked, that pen has danced and twirled between his fingers. I almost wish I were that pen. What those long fingers could do to me.
“Well, you can rest assured you’re safe and in a good place in my hands.”
Mmm… we really need to stop the formalities, get these papers signed, and get on with it… or I may possibly die of unfulfilled lust.
“So… is that all?” I ask, my body hot. “Was there anything you wanted to add?”
He shoots me a wicked smile. I’m sure he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “Well, I’d like to add the points I mentioned before, if it’s okay with you.”
“It’s fine,” I concede.
As offended as I initially was, I’m just too aroused to care anymore. I can’t keep the man off my mind, a
nd I can’t seem to focus on anything else. I need to touch him, get my fill of him, and then maybe I can function properly. My body craves him like it has never craved anyone before. That’s quite telling since I’ve been with my share of men – not a trampish number, but still quite a few.
And yet, not a single one of them has ever affected me like he does.
August
As we go over the points of our arrangement, I can’t quite believe this is happening. Ruby is flushed and seems ill-at-ease, which is completely understandable given the circumstances. I have the urge to take her in my arms and tell her it will be okay. The truth is I don’t know any better than she does. This is all new to me too. I’ve never been involved with an employee.
The truth is I haven’t been with too many women at all. There has only been Olivia, Anita, and an innocent high school courtship. I wonder if Ruby is more experienced than I am. I’ve wondered if she was seeing someone, but I never asked. The thought filled me with inexplicable jealousy. I want her all to myself. I assume she’s single since she’s willing to embark on this arrangement.
I clear my throat, preparing myself to discuss yet another sensitive matter. “I-I also wanted to discuss exclusivity.”
She squares her shoulders and listens attentively.
“What I mean is…” I can’t quite bring myself to say the words. I feel greedy, possessive. And of course I am. I need her to be mine and only mine. I can’t handle the thought of her being touched by other men. I want to be the only one who has the privilege to enjoy her. “I would like us to be exclusive. I won’t be with anyone else for the duration of our… our arrangement. And ideally, neither will you. Is that feasible?”
She smiles widely. “Yes, it is. I’m not seeing anyone else.”
My whole being smiles. “That’s great.”
We sit motionless for an eternity. My eyes are fixed on Miko, who is grooming himself. His wings ruffle as he buries his beak under them. I can’t quite look at her, and I can’t seem to manage a single word.
I’m not quite sure how I’ve managed to make this conversation so very awkward, and I wonder how I’ll even handle the next steps of this arrangement. But then I remind myself that my intense desire for her will take the wheel and lead the way.
“I should go,” she says softly as she stands. She presses down the folds of her skirt, her fingers red-tipped to match her ruby lips.
I wonder what she looks like underneath the conservative skirt and blouse. I wonder what she wears – delicate lace I’m sure, but what colour? Angelic white, devilish red, black, or a shade of pastel? I wonder what she’ll taste like, how her skin will feel – soft, I’m sure. The closest I’ve come to touching her was a handshake. Curiosity fills me to the brim.
I spend the next hour writing up the “agreement” and struggling to weave together just the right sentences. I know it’s all quite informal, but I hope it will be good enough. As long as we both understand where we stand and the ground rules of this arrangement, everything should run smoothly. Of course, this isn’t a legally binding agreement. If it were, it would need to be overseen by an attorney and signed by a witness. I cannot imagine asking Millie to sign such documentation.
Just as I finish up and print the agreement, Millie walks in holding a large Tupperware container. I smile, knowing she has stolen a few goodies from the kitchen. She always does – usually chocolates, cheese, and lunch leftovers.
“I’ll be heading out early today, Mr. Hyde. I need to pick up my son. His car is at the garage.”
I quickly grab the sheet from the printer. “Sure. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I have the list you gave me, and I’ll grab that stuff before I head in tomorrow.”
“Sounds great. Have a good night, Millie.”
As Millie makes her way out, my whole body lights up. Now is the time. Ruby and I are alone. I’m holding the contract. There’s just one thing left to do – make the first move.
I pace around my office, trying to figure out how to go about it. She’ll most likely be sitting at her desk. What do I say? I can’t very well just ask her to strip her off her clothes and bend her over the desk.
Well, I suppose I could. The thought is delicious. But I want to let the whole thing come into its own and develop naturally. Yet the circumstances of this understanding are anything but… normal. As my heart speeds up and my stomach flutters, I gather the courage to walk over to her office.
When I reach her, my heart is still pounding. She isn’t at her desk as I’d expected. She’s standing by my photographs, a dreamy expression tracing her features. She is awed. She turns to me, and she’s so beautiful in that instant I want to grab her and kiss her senseless. I don’t know why I don’t. Still a bit gun-shy, I suppose.
“These are amazing,” she says softly. “When did you take these?”
I inch closer and stand next to her, as close as I can. Her scent fills my nostrils – a spicy, sweet blend. “A few years ago.”
I desperately long to touch her, every inch of her. I still hold the sheet of paper. I walk to her desk and settle the contract right at its centre. I need my hands to be free to touch her.
I make my way back to her and stand close again, right behind her. We face a collection of a dozen photos, displayed in rows of four, in contemporary white frames. I’d orchestrated the arrangement a year ago – the effect is pleasing to the eye. The smell of her hair is intoxicating. I tower over her despite the tall heels she wears.
“I love the blue and brown one,” she says quietly. “He’s so cute. What kind of bird is he?”
I press a hand softly against her hip, so lightly I’m sure she can’t even feel it. “An eastern bluebird.”
“Wow. And what about this other blue one?”
I press myself closer against her and inhale her scent. “That one is an indigo bunting.”
Birds absolutely captivate me. Everything about them fascinates me. Their vibrant colours. The science of their flight – it seems to defy logic and laws of physics. Their rituals and how they manage to survive despite their vulnerability. I love their dichotomy; they’re delicate yet strong. Yet at this moment, I couldn’t care less about birds.
“It’s so vibrant.” I detect a hint of breathlessness in her voice, and I lap it up.
My hand travels to her shoulder, and I trail it down the sheer, delicate sleeve of her blouse. I feel her breath hitch. “It’s not the actual hue of their feathers.” As aroused as I am, I can’t help but play professor. “It’s an illusion, a play on light.”
“Wow,” she blows out, the word ragged.
I’m barely touching her, and I’m arousing her already – I love it. The feeling of anticipation cannot be beat. I explore anticipation, drawing out desire, in my books. I make sure my characters are hungry when they finally dig in. I make sure they’re starving, on the verge of collapse. I want this for Ruby. I want her to hunger for my touch. I want to drag out her desire until she can no longer tolerate it. I know right then that I won’t be taking her over the desk. That would be wasteful. I want to explore this delicious desire, lick it, and savour it, not gulp it down in one bite. Let the flavours fill us slowly.
“I-I… love the one with the two birds,” she carries on. She doesn’t turn around, nor does she pull from me. She’s also revelling in this desire we share. She’s in no hurry and knows how to take this in slowly.
My hands find their way back to her hips, and they’re curious this time. They explore and travel to her ass. Her breath hitches before a heavy exhale escapes her. I’m hard for her, and my mind clouds with lust. I’m about to lose my footing.
She points and turns her head back to me. “The one with the birds swiping at each other.”
My smile presses against the side of her head. “Lovers’ quarrel.”
I close my eyes. This is it – the moment desire takes over and all my inhibitions fade. I drag my greedy hands down and pull at the hem of her skirt. I need to see her and touc
h her skin. She lets out a soft moan and throws her head back against my chest as I slide the fabric up over her lovely hips. My eyes are satiated when they take in the pretty pink lace.
When my palms press against her soft ass, she lets out another whimper. I toy with the lace trim of her panties, playful, teasing. My mouth actually waters at the sight of her, and I swallow hard. The sounds coming from her, the smell of her, the feel of her… it’s all so overwhelming.
I lose all control. I fall to my knees and press my mouth against the soft flesh of her perfect rear. I bite softly and lick slowly. She moans loudly this time, the sound echoing off the walls.
“A-August…” she breathes. She pulls away and turns to face me.
Ruby drops to her knees, and before she can utter a single word, I pull her face to mine and take her mouth. She tastes as sweet as I imagined. She is as hungry as I am. Her soft tongue twirls around mine. Our mouths are clumsy, and our hands aren’t much better. We claw at each other, both of us wanting more. As she pulls her hands through my hair, her touch feels amazing. An untamed heat courses through me, and I want to do all kinds of filthy things to her. She trails her mouth to the edge of my jaw and drags her teeth along my face until she reaches my ear. She nips at it, playful.
I close my eyes, willing this moment of pure bliss to never end. This is different. Since Olivia’s passing, I’ve been with Anita many times, and not once did I feel so consumed. Sure, I felt physical pleasure. Sex is designed to be enjoyable. Yet I’ve never felt euphoria consuming my whole being before – not since Olivia.
My hands seem to have minds of their own as they travel along the soft curves of her hips. Her skirt is still hiked up at her waist. My fingers venture into forbidden territory, and I feel her wetness through the lace. She is drenched for me, and that only arouses me more. I slip my fingers under the silky fabric and explore her warmth. She closes her eyes and moans softly as I penetrate her – she fully surrenders to me. I lick a line up her neck as I press my fingers deeper into her. My cock throbs when she strokes it over my pants. I’m not sure if I can retain control. I feel helpless.
