Taming Her Boss

by C. M. Stunich

  I reach a hand up to touch the slightly crusted tips of my hair and wrinkle my nose.

  “Jizz?” I ask, the word an unfamiliar bit of slang sliding across my tongue.

  “Yeah, you know, cum.” Olivia pauses, the corner of her lip twitching as she teases me. “Semen. Or as Maxi likes to say: the sperms.”

  “I know what it means,” I growl back at her, enjoying the rush of fire between us again. “I just don't see how it got into my hair. Maybe it's actually your … ” I struggle to come up with the right word as Olivia moves around the end of the island and faces me straight on, her purse still slung over one shoulder.

  “Juice?” she supplies which makes me cringe. And smile. After so much time around people who hold their tongue, here's Olivia who refuses to tame hers. I imagine her like a wild horse, only one that I'd do everything in my power not to break. “Lady liquid? Or, as the moms called it after they took over my tenth grade health class and embarrassed me in front of the entire high school, vaginal lubricant. But no, Lex, I'm so very sorry but that up there, it's mostly yours.” She watches me as I draw my hand away from my hair and set my glass down on the counter – just as empty as hers is. “Shower?” she asks again and I move forward, intending to show her where the bathroom is. Only we get caught on one another as I pass by, and she looks up at me with those big green eyes, those long dark lashes. Her lips part, and I prepare for something sweet, something oddly romantic to pass between them. “Where did you put your used condoms?”

  I turn to face her fully, our chests a scant few inches apart, and reach into my pocket, withdrawing the evidence of our encounter. These slacks and this dress shirt are destined for a visit to the dry cleaners. Olivia wrinkles her nose at me as I push my foot against a hidden button on the toe kick of a cabinet, watching as it slides out to reveal a hidden trash compactor. I toss the condoms inside and push the cabinet back in with a single finger. Olivia raises her brow at me, glancing back up at my face.

  “You said maybe next time we could try it without a condom?” I offer, watching her face for any clues on how she feels about my bringing up the subject. Olivia crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a look.

  “Lex, you're hot, okay. I'll admit that. Let's be honest here. But I'm also a modern woman, and much as I'd like to indulge our wilder sides, I can't in good conscious go forward with that unless … ” She pauses and blows out a puff of air, the warmth of it brushing against the bare spot of chest below my collar. My shirt is sloppy and the buttons all mixed up, the top gaping open to reveal a hell of a lot more of myself than I'd normally put on display.

  “Unless what?”

  Olivia puts her hands over her face.

  “I don't know, Lex. I can't … I don't want to talk about this right now. Just take me to your shower.” I raise an eyebrow, but I don't argue against her wording, turning and leading her down the hall. I push open the door to the bathroom and step back.

  An awkward moment of silence passes between us.

  “You said you had a shirt I could borrow?” she asks, glancing at the shelves to her left, covered in perfectly folded, perfectly starched white towels. Not my handiwork, but the woman who lives below – Mavis, I believe is her name.

  “I do.” My mouth twitches, and I can't seem to hold back adding, “provided you wear it without panties.”

  “Just bring me the damn shirt, Lex,” Olivia says, stepping into the bathroom and slamming the door in my face.

  I do as Olivia asks, still fully intending on keeping good to my promise of following her orders. If I play my cards right, perhaps I can still get what I wanted after all? Olivia didn't want to be treated like a whore, but now that she's already fucked me and – quite possibly – intends to continue fucking me, why shouldn't she be rewarded for it?

  I head into my office and flip open my laptop, typing in my password and sending another contract to the printer. I won't ask her now, but maybe later? After a few more glasses of whiskey, another dance with the devil, and maybe she'll say yes. I pull my cell out of my pocket – my clean pocket I'll have you know – and take a look at the messages. A call from both my father and grandfather, some texts from Lara Caliper, a few from Claudia.

  I decide none of that matters today. I'll deal with them all tomorrow. Today, I seal the deal with Olivia. My mouth twists into another feral grin as I toss my phone on my nightstand and disappear into one of the room's three closets. There's an entire rack dedicated to white button-downs, another rack dedicated to black suit jackets, and over ten drawers filled with ties in all the colors of the rainbow. My upbringing consisted of learning how to be scathingly polite, to talk to others without offending them outright but also to let them know who was in charge. One of the ways we accomplished this was by dressing professionally, in white shirts and dark suits – classic, understated, neutral. It's an effective technique, to always look perfect, to always look the same, to present an immovable front to the world.

  But it gets stifling.

  I found a way to show my personality while still maintaining the sleek dark look that's expected of a member of the Lyndon family. I open a drawer, staring down at the neatly laid rows of silk, cashmere, wool. This entire drawer is full of ties in red and crimson, a bright splash of ardor laden delight. I curl a silk strand around my fingers and slide it from its place before grabbing a freshly pressed shirt.

  “Olivia?” I ask, tapping my knuckles against the bathroom door. Steam drifts under the door, teasing my loafers with a white mist. She must have the shower on hot, hot, hot. I feel my body tighten, my cock stiffen in response to thoughts of her naked and covered in soap. It takes every ounce of resolve I have to keep from opening the door and taking Olivia against the white tiled walls of my shower. I already let myself slip in the parking garage. I'm the one that started all this by offering up the contract, confronting Olivia, chasing after her. I have to go through with my plan.

  A moment later, the door opens and she appears in front of me – stark fucking naked.

  “Shirt?” she inquires, reaching out a hand and wiggling her fingers at me. Her gaze flickers down to the round bulge in my slacks before she swallows hard and flares her nostrils. “What? It's not like you didn't get a view of this already,” she mumbles, reaching past me and snatching the fabric from my fingers. I let it go, watching as her eyes find the tie and her brow crinkles. “Uh, thanks. I see as promised that there are no underwear involved here.”

  “You really want to wear a pair of my briefs?” I ask, letting my eyes trace the perfect smoothness of her skin. Her body is just right – that perfect mix between curvy and fit – a slight layer of woman overlaid on top of the gentle curvature of muscles. There's a line down her belly, straight to her navel, a little valley I'd like to trace with my tongue.

  I close my eyes against the sight.

  “Now that you put it like that … don't you have any boxers?” she asks, scooting back behind the door and closing it so only her face is exposed. I open my eyes and focus on hers, pulse thrumming with desire.

  “A few,” I say, praying that she'll invite me in. She doesn't.

  “Good. Bring me a pair, please. There's no way I'm putting my panties back on.” Olivia closes the door again, leaving me with another throbbing erection and no outlet for it. I clench my teeth and turn away, once again doing as she asks, once again pausing to rap my knuckles against the wood.

  “Come in!” Olivia shouts, her voice echoing in the enclosed space. I put my fingers tentatively against the knob and turn it, letting myself in. The frosted glass doors separate me from Olivia, but the curved shadow of her body is present, tantalizingly close yet so far away. “Just leave it with the rest of the stuff,” she says through a mouthful of water. I set the folded square of boxers down on top of the white shirt and take a step back, watching Olivia's shadow move behind the glass. After a few moments, she opens the door and glares at me, water running down her chin and dripping from the strands of her red hair. “What
?” There's no indication from her that she's embarrassed by her body, by the round curves of her hips or her full breasts. But she's not blatant about it either, doing nothing in particular to try and turn me on.

  That makes this so much harder. Her indifference is turning me on. That lack of obsessive self-awareness or the need to please. I squeeze my fingers into tight fists and try to force myself into leaving the room.

  “Do you want to get in and have sex with me?” Olivia says with a sigh. Her words are abrupt enough that I don't respond right away, trying to convince my brain that my ears just heard what I thought they heard. Olivia leans back and pushes the door open all the way. I open my mouth to speak, but she cuts me off with a wave of her hand. “Please don't talk. If you do, you might piss me off and make sure this never happens again.” Olivia takes a deep breath and touches her fingers to her forehead before looking up at me with a lopsided half-smile. “Look, Lex, I don't even really know what's going on here, but I figure since we already did it once – ”

  “You had two orgasms. I would consider that twice.” I smile back at Olivia as she narrows her eyes at me and clenches her teeth.

  “Since we already did it twice, I figure we might as well take advantage of the situation.” She pauses and glances at the pile of clothes resting on the edge of the sink. “And do you have anymore ties? I'd like to … try something if you don't mind.”

  I smirk at her.

  “If it involves sex with you, I absolutely don't.”

  I spin away and leave the bathroom, fingers rising up to start unbuttoning my shirt. I leave it abandoned on the floor of my closet along with my shoes and socks, scooping up a handful of ties and taking them back to the bathroom, letting the bright red colors flutter to the white tile floor beneath my feet. A few stragglers dangle from my fingers as Olivia beckons me closer and takes two away from me, looking at the expensive silk with a slight grimace.

  “You sure you want to get these wet?” she asks me as I reach down and start unbuttoning my slacks.

  “I can afford more,” I tell her honestly as she raises her brows at me and shrugs, pointing her finger at her purse. I get the idea: condoms. I grab a handful.

  “Lofty ideals, Lex,” she says, stepping back as I drop my slacks to the floor and slide down my briefs. Olivia's eyes widen at the sight of my naked body, fully erect and on full display. I take the moment to ogle her right back, sliding my eyes up and down her smooth body, taking in the pert perfection of her pink nipples, the triangle of red hair between her legs.

  Olivia clears her throat and lifts up the two ties.

  “Come here.”

  I growl low in my throat, but I obey, stepping into the shower, letting our bodies get close enough that when Olivia takes a deep breath, her breasts brush against my belly.

  “Turn around,” she commands me, voice rough with desire. It's nice to know that this attraction is a two-way street. I smirk at Olivia and do as I'm told, letting a ripple of anger and frustration slide across my skin. My initial instinct is to rebel, to fight back, to slam her into the glass and fuck her until she comes. Only I don't. I let that sense of freedom wash over me, trying to forget about my attempts to wrangle Olivia into a contract, even about trying to please her. That's not my concern right now. If I let her do as she wants with me, she'll please herself.

  “A blindfold? Interesting choice.”

  “Not if you think about it logically,” she tells me, tying the tie across my eyes with rough fingers. “Your eyes are always full of unsaid asshole-isms and just when I think I'm starting to be able to tolerate you, you open your mouth.”

  The second tie slides across my jaw and slips between my lips.

  “This is for me, Lex, not for you,” she tells me, but I don't care. My hands tremble and my heart races. Control. I'm certainly not in control anymore and although a few silk ties might not seem like much, I've never allowed a woman to blind or gag me in the bedroom. I wait with my shoulders tense and my cock rigid and painful. A moment later, Olivia reaches around me and steals the pile of condoms from my hand. She doesn't shake or quiver or whisper things in my ear that she thinks I want to hear.

  “Now turn around.”

  I obey, spinning in a circle and pausing when Olivia's hands find my chest, tracing across my muscles with her fingertips. She traces my pecs first and then my belly. Each time her fingers make contact with a new part of my body, my muscles tighten painfully, anticipating her next move, trying to fight against the strong, scalding sensation of her touch. When she finds my cock, I go rigid, a gasp tangling up with the wet silk tie between my lips.

  Olivia works me up, sliding her hand along my bare skin, bringing another growl to my throat. I'd do anything right now to rip these blindfolds off, find her face, taste her lips. But I can't. Not this time. I force my thoughts to go blank, letting my mind absorb each pleasurable brush of her skin against mine.

  A warm mouth touches my jaw, the gesture intentional but light, sliding down my face to find my throat. Olivia's body leans into mine, breasts smashing against my midsection, the fingers of one hand trailing down my arm, the other stroking my cock.

  “You're going to feel me, Lex, but you're not going to know what I'm doing or why. It doesn't matter. If you're an alpha male then I'm an alpha female, and you've asked me to show you exactly what that means. I'm not doing this for money and I definitely don't give a shit about you, Lex. I'm using you right now, do you understand that?”

  My heart slams into my rib cage, and my jaw clenches tight.

  “You're nothing but a big fat cock to me. I don't even like you. Hell, I don't even know what the fuck I'm doing at your house, much less in your shower with you. Naked and horny and missing my vibrator.” I breathe deep, listening to her words slide through my skull with a sharp bite that pricks my arousal and takes it a step further. I lift my hands up to touch her waist, but she slaps them away. “Stand still. Don't even move. If you do, I'll pack up my stuff and walk away right now and we can forget this ever happened. I wouldn't mind, but I feel like you'd suffer, wouldn't you, Lex?”

  I don't make a sound, not even a growl in response, struggling to keep my hands to myself as Olivia shifts around in front of me, drawing her fingers back, leaving me standing there quivering with desire. When she next touches me, a warm wetness slides against the tip of my cock, teasing, tasting me with her lips. Olivia Ashcraft is giving me a fucking blow job. I smirk, feeling the tug of the silk tie against the corners of my mouth. Hopefully with that in there, she'll have a more difficult time reading my facial expression.

  Her teeth graze my shaft, light enough that I know they're there, hard enough that I'm almost afraid. If I pissed Olivia off, I don't think she'd hesitate to bite me where it really hurts. Strangely enough, the thought excites me. I stay stone still, letting a groan crash against the warm, wet lump of my gag. It bothers me that I can't see her red hair, stuck against the sides of her face, can't watch as her rosebud lips part and accept my cock into her hot mouth. My stomach muscles clench, fighting against the desire to wrap my fingers in her hair, thrust my hips into her face. This little rose has thorns, and I have to be careful or I won't just get pricked, I will bleed.

  I let my head fall back, scalding water spraying my chest, sliding down my body in burning rivulets that don't even come close to comparing with the heat in Olivia's mouth. She keeps her hands to herself, and I have to wonder if any of that splashing I hear is her touching herself. I pray that it is.

  My muscles start to come undone one by one, relaxing, allowing my body to droop, letting my back touch the tiled wall of the shower until I'm propped up with nothing but Olivia's touch to keep me standing upright. She takes her time, sliding her mouth up and down the length of my cock, pulling away and letting the spray of the shower tease me for a moment as she catches her breath. Olivia doesn't bob her head with frantic energy, like some sort of demented bunny rabbit, coquettishly batting her eyelashes while I hold her head in place with tigh
t fingers. Instead she wraps the fingers of one hand tight around the base of my shaft, her grip steady and confident, and slides her lips down to meet her fist. It feels like she's deep throating me, taking every inch of my dick into her throat.

  Another groan escapes my mouth, languishing against my gag as I dig my fingers into the wall behind me, fingernails scraping along the tile as an orgasm comes up on me hard and fast.

  And then the sensation stops and the pressure inside of me comes to a screeching halt. The droplets of water from the shower feel painful as they splatter against my aching cock. I come this close to tearing the gag from my mouth and screaming at Olivia, asking her what the hell she thinks she's doing.

  “Let's go,” she says, taking my hand and pulling me forward. Since I can't see, I have no choice but to trust her. It's a weird sensation, letting her guide me blind and mute through my own house, our wet footsteps slapping against the hardwood floors as she tries to figure out where it is exactly she's planning on taking me. “If I can just find the bedroom,” she murmurs, but she doesn't free me, doesn't ask, and eventually, I feel the soft press of my mattress against my legs. “Lay down,” Olivia tells me, and I hate that I can't see her face as I put my hands out and slide onto the bed, wondering what she thinks of the coved ceilings in here, the furniture I selected to match the period of the house.

  I stretch out on the bed and then roll onto my back, my cock throbbing, begging for release as Olivia decides on whatever it is she wants to do next.

  “Sit up, get on your knees, and don't you dare touch me.” I do as she asks, shuddering in pleasure as her hands find my cock and slide a condom on without hesitation. A moment later, I feel the bed creak as she climbs on. I have no idea what she's up to, and it's turning me on.

  There's a shuffling of blankets, a curse, the sound of a pillow hitting the floor. I believe I'm facing the headboard, but I'm so disoriented with need and desire that I'm not entirely sure about that anymore.