by Ada Frost
“Leah,” I called. She turned with a shocked expression.
“Yeah?”
Lacey’s hand tightened around mine. I noticed Leah’s stare track to our hands and a small crease formed on her brow.
“I was wondering if you’d like to go for drinks tonight after work. You, me, and Lacey? Give me a chance to get to know you, and for my foolish cousin to do some serious apologising for being a silly cow. What do you reckon?” I asked, hopping she wasn’t the type to drag apologies out and make Lacey suffer.
Leah shot a look at Lacey. “You told her?”
Lacey merely nodded.
“And you’re okay with it?” Leah questioned me. Her sceptical expression and slight anger way made me happy in a strange. Because it was clear Leah had tried to fight for her.
“No,” I stated firmly. Leah crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me. “I’m not okay with Lacey having a broken heart because she feels she has to hide who she is. I’m not okay with her being alone and miserable when she can be happy. With you.”
If I thought Leah was beautiful before, it was nothing compared to how stunning she was when she smiled.
“Christ, I’m developing a crush on this woman. I’d hurry and apologise,” I said loudly through the corner of my mouth so Leah could hear. Leah laughed loudly, her gaze trained on Lacey. And it was clear in that moment she was a very loved woman. Lacey squeezed my hand as silence rained over us.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Leah made a pained noise before crossing the room, cupping Lacey’s face, and kissing her. My tummy flipped, and a smile threatened to break my cheeks.
“No more bullshit,” Leah quipped against her mouth.
“I promise.”
A very loud, very obnoxious cough sounded behind us, and I knew without turning it was Stone.
“Wonderful,” I drawled. “You get the beautiful princess. I get to deal with the Evil Queen,” I huffed before turning and plastering a fake smile on my face, which rapidly turned to a real one when I caught sight of his annoyed scowl. I loved rattling this man. Leah and Lacey tried to muffle their laughter before heading back onto the set.
“Your lunch hour ended three minutes ago.”
“You timed how long it took you to pee?”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, when you barged into the toilet while we were in there, which I might add is a little rude, you said our hour was over then. So clearly you’ve timed how long it took you to pee.”
“I didn’t...you shouldn’t...” he stammered before taking a deep breath. “That is my personal bathroom. You are more than aware, Miss Warner, not to use it, but you insist on ignoring my instructions. As for the period that has passed, I am more than capable of telling the time and knowing the additional minutes it has taken you to have your lunch.”
“Firstly, you seem to allow me to use that bathroom for certain activities,” I said, noting the slight flush in his cheeks “Secondly, I wasn’t having my lunch. I was being a personal adviser to one of your employees. For which you will thank me for later because now Lace - Lexi and Bonny, will be able to perform together, and from what I gather they are a particular favourite of your viewers.” I beamed at him, more to annoy him than anything.
He bristled, making my smile grow.
“You are not here to be a personal advisor. You are my secretary. Speaking of which, why am I accepting your mail from Scarlet?”
“I have no idea. Why are you doing that?” I retorted with a strong undercurrent of sarcasm.
“Miss Warner.”
The man really had no idea what that low growly warning did to my libido.
“Yes, Mr Stone?” I asked sweetly.
“Your invite to the International Awards is here.”
“What?”
“It’s mandatory.”
“So, less of an invite and more a command,” I teased, but my anxiety spiked because there was no way I could afford a night out.
“Exactly.” He held out the pile of letters to me.
“She could have just left them on my desk,” I muttered, taking them from him.
“I pointed that out too.”
A small smile tickled my lips. “I better get back to work. I can’t stand here idly chit chatting with you all day now, can I? Time is money as they say.” I grinned when his face contorted in a rather thunderous scowl. I spun on my heel, and with a little extra sway in my hips, I sashayed by him. It helped that both of us knew that my knickers were tucked in his pocket instead of keeping my backside warm. The cloud of the awards followed though. I definitely wasn’t antisocial. I just didn’t have the money to fund a social life. I glanced down at the thick cream envelope that held the damn thing.
“What personal advice could you possibly have to offer those two?” his voice called as I reached my desk. He followed me into my office.
“They’d had a falling out. A misunderstanding that was making them both miserable. Lover’s spat you could say. Even you, with a heart of stone, can’t deny the course of true love,” I blabbed, in my distracted state.
Lawson groaned and rolled his eyes. “Why do women believe there is always a romantic happy ever after in everything? Sometimes you just have to let things be.”
“You are such a sceptic.”
“Realist, Miss Warner.”
“So you don't believe in love, romance and happily ever after, at all?”
“No, I don’t believe in illusions. I believe in fact.”
“How is love an illusion? Have you never been in love? What about your parents?”
“My father loves his cock. As far as being in love with my mother, that’s as ludicrous as believing I have the ability to have a stable relationship with a woman. I am the result of not using contraception, nothing more. When I was conceived, my father was married to his second wife, and due to his blatant disregard for using condoms, I was created. I wasn't planned or wanted, but I did become useful. He divorced his wife and married my mother in a rather quick ceremony. As for being in love, I can say with certainty I've never felt the inclination. I fully understand what women want of me, and they are more than aware of what I require from them.”
“You have a jaded perception of love.”
“Realistic.”
“It isn't, not in the slightest. I feel kind of sorry for you,” I snapped, hating the defensive tone in my voice. He was riling me, and I was allowing it.
“Excuse me?” He bristled. His head jerked as though I'd slapped him.
“You must be incredibly lonely if you're unwilling to even believe you could find love.”
The bitter laughter that echoed around the room sent chills through me. "Miss Warner, I don't need nor want love. Men are simple creatures; we need our cock sucked or ridden. I know what to expect in a relationship as do my partners. There are no complications, no wailing late night conversations and endless tears. Expectations I won’t live up to. I am honest with who I have relations with, something most men are incapable of."
“So all men are liars?” I asked.
“I'm not applying that to one sex. Everyone lies when it comes to sex.”
“I don't.”
“In that case, have you ever faked an orgasm?”
“Not until today.” It was a cheap shot, but I wasn’t allowing him to best me.
“I thought you said you didn’t lie.”
Smug bastard.
“We’re not talking about my sex life.” I argued.
“Men say whatever a woman is willing to hear to get in her bed. As will a woman to make him stay.”
“You are so full of shit.”
I stumbled back when he abruptly entered my space.
“Oh my God, your dick is so big. Will it fit? I've never had as big. This is just sex. I don't want anything more than this night. These are all lies a woman will say to feed a man's ego and stand out from the others vying for his attention. But the thing is, a man will fuck you regardless of the c
ompliments. He just wants to come. If you have nice tits and a willing cunt, that's all he needs. The lies are a waste of air.”
“You have some complimentary friends.” My tone was filled with sarcasm.
“No, delusional liars.”
“Some women are nervous at a man's size, and if you happen to be...larger than normal. It’s okay for her to feel a little apprehensive. And maybe she thought it would turn you on,” I raved. Crossing my arms over my chest, feeling defensive for the women of the world.
Hear me roar.
“It isn't a turn on when you're about to fuck someone and have to give them an anatomical lesson. Women's bodies are designed for giving birth. Now, I may have a decent sized cock, nothing I would especially brag about. It does the job. However, it is nowhere near the size of a small infant, wouldn’t you agree?”
The loud bout of laughter that burst free was totally uncontrollable. I leaned forward and patted his chest, covering my mouth with the other hand. “You did not say that during sex?”
“No. I hadn't penetrated her. I thought I'd made that clear. She was droning on about it not fitting. Were you paying attention, Miss Warner?”
“Oh my God, Lawson, you're a lost cause." I giggled. Rubbing my hand absently over the jumping muscle beneath.
“You've never called me that before.” His deep gravely rasp had me peering up at him. He stepped closer causing my hands to press harder against him. “It sounds nice coming from your mouth.”
We stared at one another, the proximity stirring a heat inside me that threatened to burn me alive. I slid one of my hands down over his pec and curled my finger purposely, scratching against his nipple, which was standing proud against the cotton fabric. He hissed out a breath. His pupils, his dark lashes and brow shadowing the blue, causing a dangerous blackness. Stone’s hands remained fisted by his sides, the tense clench of his jaw and thick vein pulsing in his neck was showing me his restraint was costing him dearly.
I scraped my nail more confidently over his nipple. I loved the staggered hitch to his breathing. His nostrils flared as his hooded gaze trapped me. Feeling a sense of power, and feeling of over confidence, I circled the pad of my forefinger around his shirt over the puckered nipple before taking it between my finger and thumb and pinching quite hard. He flinched, and the deep masculine growl heated places I was longing for him to touch. I glanced down and released a desperate little whimper at the sight of his thick cock tenting his perfectly pressed trousers. As if sensing my attention, it twitched beneath the fabric. I shifted, debating whether to drop to my knees and suck on the damn thing like a fruit pastille ice lolly on a hot summers day. Lawson’s hand clenched by his side before he shocked the shit out of me by sliding it over the front of his trousers and brushing the length of his cock with his open palm. He closed his fist around the tip, pulling the material tight over the wonderful length.
“I wish your lips were wrapped around my cock.”
“The filth that comes out of your mouth is almost as hot as—”
“Fucking you with my tongue?”
He moved forward pinning me to the desk with his hips. His erection pressing insistently against me.
“Would you like me to take you on this desk. Bury my face in your pussy?”
My breasts felt heavy and needy and my pussy was eager for any attention. My stuffy, uptight boss was giving me another erotic experience. Which was undeniably hot. Lawson-Stick Up His Arse-Stone was a master at turning me on. I pushed my hands further up his chest, rocking my hips into him.
“Lawson,” called Scarlet in her high pitched voice as she entered the office. I swear the woman breathed helium not air. It wasn’t natural to have a voice that piercing. Lawson stepped back and turned his head to glance over his shoulder at her. She watched us through the dividing glass wall. The sugar sweet smile stayed on her lips, and she twisted at the waist like a five-year-old girl waiting for a turn on the swings.
“You better see what she wants,” I instructed. My voice trembled with residual lust and bitterness. It wasn't only men who suffered from being cock blocked. If my flaps could slap the bitch, they would. “But I’d keep that thing under control. You don’t want to be poking her with it.”
Without a word he yanked at the bottom of his jacket, adjusted his dick, and straightened his already perfect tie and left my side of the office. As he approached his desk, my gaze wandered to Scarlet, who was staring directly at me. Her doe eyed Bambi expression transformed into a fierce glare. The girly twisting had stopped. For the first time I saw the real woman beneath the plastic veneer, and even more strangely I found I liked the fire she was dishing out. It was real, not orchestrated. That I could handle. Fake bitches were not and never would be worth my time. But Satanic Bambi I could rock and roll with. I plastered the smuggest grin across my face and blew her a kiss before turning on my heel and heading out of my office with a little extra sway in my ample hips. The man she was trying to bed had fucked me sore in his very private bathroom and was currently talking to her with my knickers in his pocket.
One point for me.
Lawson and I had made it through ten work days without so much as a handshake. We were courteous to one another, so much so it was sickening. We had drawn invisible, unspoken barriers between us since our disagreement about love. I wasn’t entirely sure if he thought I was fishing for something more from him.
Did I want a repeat of the sex? No.
Okay, that’s a big fat lie. I wanted to climb him like a monkey up a tree and shag his brains out, but the likelihood was pretty slim seeing as the man himself was avoiding being alone with me. Each time I reaffirmed he wasn’t interested, to myself, my lady parts made a little protest.
The man was lethal to the female gender, and male, if Sam’s little show of kink was anything to go by. My mind wandered to those two together, all naked and sweaty, pleasuring one another. My imagination often amped it up a little and wondered what it would be like to watch Sam and Lawson fuck, and who would be on top. I could totally see Lawson taking Sam’s backdoor-cherry. All the masculine strength and aggression rolling around fighting for dominance. I shifted in my chair at the very image in my mind. Lawson’s stoic manner was at odds with his passion in the bedroom, or bathroom antics. The man was a sexual deviant in the most amazing way. He had this fire locked away that I was dying to set free.
I crossed my legs beneath my desk, squeezing my thighs together to abate the ache growing in my core. My nipples tightened to hardened peaks and pushed against my shirt. I stood abruptly. I needed to distract myself. I headed over to the filing cabinet and pulled a few things out that didn’t need to be completed until Monday, but I was twiddling my thumbs because I’d completed everything on his agenda so far.
Better than twiddling your nipples.
All this time left to think was only allowing my nerves over the awards ceremony to escalate. I’d tried every excuse in the How To Avoid Parties - For Hermits — okay, there wasn't really a book like that, not that I’d discovered anyway. Maybe if I got sacked from this job, that could be my next venture. Besides, my excuses had fallen on deaf ears. Thinking that the mysophobic boss would balk at the idea of contagion, I’d told him I had explosive diarrhoea and wouldn't be able to go. Not so much as a flicker of concern, he simply instructed me to go to the pharmacist for some diarrhoea relief.
I bent over to grab the files when my computer pinged with an instant message. Without looking, I knew it would be from Stone. He seemed to be the only one ever to use it. Even though he was within shouting distance.
When I opened the message, I almost choked on my tongue.
Stone: The car will arrive to pick you up at 7pm sharp. Make sure you’re ready. Also, Miss Warner, please be aware when you bend over, your knickers are on show. Add a little caution.
“Pig,” I muttered, which was in total contrast to the flush spreading through my body and the heavy ache in my breasts.
Me: I’ll be getting ready at Lac
ey’s house. No transport is required, thank you. Also, Mr Stone, please be aware if your attention was on your work and not my arse, you wouldn’t have seen my underwear. Besides, you purchased it, it would be rude not to show you.
I pressed send and smiled with glee that this would put the overbearing turd in his place. It was apparent no one stood up to Lawson. Admittedly, I rubbed him the wrong way and was the brunt of his coldness more often than not.
Ugh, that was the wrong choice of words. Because what I wouldn’t give to rub him any which way right now.
Stone: It’s difficult to concentrate on my work when you flaunt your assets at me. And which piece are you wearing? As a curiosity, obviously.
“What?” I choked. Was he for bloody real? I didn’t flaunt anything.
Me: Your ego is far too inflated, Mr Stone. I was simply getting some files. Your deviant mind has conjured something that is definitely not there. When I dress in a morning, what you desire has no bearing on what covers my naked skin. The white lace.
Okay, that may have pushed my naughty side a little far. Because now I had images of him instructing me on what to wear, on watching me as I dressed each morning. The fire in his eyes when he’d seen me in the lingerie still held firm at the top of my private fantasies, and might or might not have been the instigator in many a lonely night with my hand.
Stone: Lace covers your skin exceedingly well. But I like my cum covering you better. Go to the casting room, strip, and wait for me. I need to inspect my purchase.
“Holy mother of internet flirting,” I murmured as I read and reread his message. I dared a surreptitious glance in his direction. His head was bowed over at the papers in front of him.
Me: As I recall, Mr Stone, I swallowed. None touched my skin, and I find this highly unprofessional. Your demand is unreasonable.
My finger hovered above the send button. I looked over at him through the glass wall and clicked. His attention was on his screen in seconds. When his hands balled into fists on top of his desk, I did a little inner victory dance.
Stone: Do as you’re told, Miss Warner.
My elation and libido faded pretty quickly when Scarlett entered Stone’s office.
