“Yes ma’am.”
“Good. Now, I have to go, but I’ll see you tonight.”
* * *
I found the red dress my sister instructed me to wear buried deep in my closet. It still had the tag on it. It was a short cocktail dress made out of silky scarlet material, something I never would have picked for myself.
As my sister and best friend, Abigail was basically my advisor in life. The thing was, we were polar opposites. She was tall, slim, graceful, athletic, confident, and sexy—in other words, everything I was not. She always meant well, but I couldn’t even look at her without wishing that I was more like her.
Getting ready to shower, I stripped off my clothes in the bathroom then glanced in the mirror. Short, awkward, clumsy, round… way too round, that was me. Frowning, I tried sucking in my stomach. Better, I guess. I turned away.
Turning the shower as hot as it would go, I ducked under the water. The water pressure in my apartment was shit, but it was all I could afford. And I was used to it.
Lathering shampoo into my hair, my mind began to wander again, to thoughts of Derek. I imagined him in the shower with me, standing behind me, washing my shoulders and back, then letting his hands explore, and pressing against me… mmm…
I poured a generous helping of shampoo into my hand and began rubbing it over my breasts, creating frothy suds that allowed my fingers to slide so seductively over my skin. Then I reached down to my pussy and lathered my clit in the suds.
I tried to imagine it was Derek’s mouth on my clit, sucking it like a tongue. I imagined him down there, on his knees, making out with my pussy. I slid my finger inside myself and tried to imagine it was his tongue reaching inside me.
Then I imagined him reaching up to my butt and grabbing my butt cheeks tightly in his big, strong hands. He’d spin me around so my back was to him. Then he’d spread open my butt cheeks and put his lips on my butt. He’d rub his tongue up and down the crack of my ass, stopping to press extra hard when his tongue was right on my anus. I touched my butt, sliding a slippery, soapy finger inside as I imagined him rimming me.
Then, with two very slippery, very soapy hands, I began to doubly penetrate myself, with one finger sliding in and out of my butt, fucking my ass, and another doing the same thing to my pussy.
I don’t know which finger I wanted to be his cock, the one in my pussy or the one in my ass. Either would have been perfect. As I continued fucking myself in both holes, I felt my orgasm rush through me like a wave crashing on the beach. As I came, I imagined him cumming in my pussy, then pulling out of my pussy and cumming in my ass.
The bottle of shampoo slipped and banged on the shower floor, obnoxiously loud, startling me out of my fantasy. Zeus poked his head in through the bathroom door, probably checking to make sure I was still alive enough to feed him dinner. I stuck my tongue out at him.
“I have got to stop daydreaming about this man,” I said out loud. He’s your boss now. A man of his stature would never, ever be interested in a girl like you.
I got out of the shower, dried myself off, and got ready for the night. My routine was short and uncomplicated. I twisted my hair up into a high bun, rubbed myself with lotion, and put on mascara. After putting on my favorite lacy black bra and underwear, I did what I was dreading most, and slid into the dress.
I felt bare. The red dress was tight, with an off-the-shoulder neckline. The skirt fell almost to my knees, and hugged my waist and thighs. The color was loud, noticeable. The dress did exactly what I imagined Abby wanted it to—it said, LOOK AT ME!
I wanted to take it off, but I didn’t. My sister would force me to put it back on. Instead, I found a pair of black heels I didn’t remember owning.
While I waited by the door, I rubbed Zeus’ head. His unwavering affection helped to calm some of the anxiety I was feeling.
Ten minutes past eight, I received a text from Abby.
“I can’t make it tonight, stupid car isn’t starting and I can’t find a ride. We’ll go out this weekend. So sorry. XOXO.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, then got the next text.
“P.S. You should still go out. Bet you look bombin’. Take pictures and tell me all about it. Go have fun.”
“Damn it, Abby,” I said, but I was smiling. “I guess I could go have a drink.”
I responded that it was fine, and assured her I would go out.
Since I didn’t have a car, I had to walk. There was a bar about four blocks away that was pretty nice.
On the way there, some drunk college guys whistled out their windows at me and I ducked my head, turning red. They must have been mocking me. Maybe I looked even more ridiculous than I thought. I almost turned around, but I was getting close.
The bar itself wasn’t especially busy—it was a Monday night. A few groups of people my age, some older men, no one particularly interesting. I ordered a drink and sat at the end of the bar, beginning to regret coming alone. I must have looked pathetic. I traced the wood grain on the counter, resolving not to make eye contact with anyone.
Until someone said my name.
“Amy, wasn’t it?” The voice was deep, low, and unforgettable.
I swallowed, my breath catching, and glanced up shyly. Oh, shit.
Sure enough, Derek Rittsman stood beside me, a warm smile on his gorgeous lips.
Chapter 3
Amy
“Umm…” I lost the ability to speak for a moment. “Amy. Yes. Yes, sir. That’s me. And you’re Derek.” Idiot, of course he’s Derek. Stop acting like a stuttering middle schooler.
He chuckled. “That’s right. Mind if I join you.”
My heart might have actually stopped. “Please do.”
He sat beside me, and gestured to my empty glass. “What are you drinking? I’ll get you another.”
“Oh, thank you. Spiked cactus.” The only thought I could form was, Abigail is going to lose her mind.
“Another bourbon for me, and a refill for her,” Derek said to the bartender with a charming smile. “Add her to my tab. Thank you.” He turned back to Amy. “I hope you’ll forgive me for saying so, Amy, but you look absolutely stunning.”
“Oh, I…” Oh, fuck me. Fuck me. “Thank you. I… my sister got me the dress, and…”
“I’m not talking about the dress.” His words were smooth, layered with temptation, as he sipped his drink and lifted an eyebrow.
In an attempt to calm myself down, I took a few deep breaths before trying to speak again. It worked. My voice came out much more steadily than I felt was possible, given the situation. “I’m surprised to see you here. I didn’t realize that men in your position frequented local bars.”
Derek’s mouth twitched. “Oh, you know, I like to get out just as much as the next person. And people rarely recognize me, anyway.”
“Of course, of course.” I stirred my drink, a smile creeping to my lips as I began to relax. As soon as I got over who he was, Derek was easy to talk to. He didn’t act the way I expected an extremely wealthy businessman to behave. He was genuine, friendly even. If anything, being with him was starting to relax me. Or maybe it was the alcohol.
“So, tell me, Amy. What are you doing by yourself in a bar on a Monday night? It isn’t the kind of place I’d expect to find someone like you.” Derek smiled.
I nodded. “I’m celebrating getting the internship, actually. My sister was going to take me out, but her car broke down. So here I am. Drinking alone.”
I half expected him to laugh at how pitiful that sounded, but instead he nodded thoughtfully. “Well, if I’m not intruding, I’d be happy to celebrate with you. I could use a little company myself.”
“Oh, of course. I would love that.”
“Well then. To you.” He lifted his glass to me, and I met it with my own, laughing. Typically, I hated talking to people I didn’t know, socially awkward as I am, but I couldn’t help but be drawn in by Derek.
“So,” I said, after another sip. “Are you out celebrating
something too? Did all your friends cancel?”
“No,” Derek said, laughing lightly. “To be honest, I don’t have many friends in the area. Just business allies. Not the sort of people I want to go out with. This was more like a ‘drinking to forget’ night for me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I looked into my lap, kicking myself for being nosy.
“Don’t be.” The smile returned quickly to Derek’s face. “Now I get to spend the evening with a beautiful woman. I consider myself lucky.”
I felt myself blushing, and glanced up at him. Normally, a voice in my head would be telling me that he was only flattering me, that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, that there was no way this could end the way I wanted it to. But I looked at my new boss and I saw authenticity in his calm gaze.
“Alright, Amy. I know we had a chance to get to know each other earlier, but that was all business. I would love to get to know more about you personally.”
“Okay. Well.” I looked up, thinking. “I actually started school for photojournalism, before I changed my major.”
“Why’d you change it?”
I shrugged. “I decided it wasn’t a sensible career. I couldn’t even afford a nice camera, much less college. I guess I realized it was just a dream, and I had to get back to reality. But yeah, I always thought traveling the world and taking pictures would be the best kind of life. It’s not very realistic, though.”
“I understand,” Derek said.
“Do you?” I asked, laughing.
Derek smirked. “I know you’re probably thinking, ‘What could this rich corporate business owner know about unfulfilled dreams?’ What I mean is, when I was younger, I wanted nothing to do with the family business. I would tell myself that I was going to go off on my own and do this plan or that, regardless of what my father said. Clearly, that didn’t happen. I soon realized that taking the more financially stable path was a smarter idea than continuing with my young, rebellious dreams.”
I nodded along with his words. “Exactly, so you do get it. Well, I’m gonna be honest. I was expecting you to be completely stuck-up and unrelatable.”
He leaned back, laughing. “So… have you found the truth to be otherwise?”
“Oh, yeah. You’re totally chill.” The alcohol was definitely starting to affect my ability to talk sensibly. But when he offered to get me another drink, I happily accepted.
When we had finished another round of drinks, Derek looked at me with a mischievous, slightly drunk grin. “Want to get out of here?”
“Mmhmm.” The lustful undertone in his voice, the way that his eyes shamelessly danced over my body, was irresistible. I wanted him, with a desire I had never experienced before. There was something about this man, something incredibly tempting, and if he was offering there was no way I was going to turn him down.
“Perfect! Come with me then.” He took my hand and led me out the door. The cool evening air brushed over us and I shivered as he pulled me close to him and wrapped an arm around me.
“Where are we going?” I asked, looking up at him.
“I’m going to give you a never-before-seen experience,” he said. “I call it, ‘Rittsman Enterprises: After Hours’. The office is a completely different place when it’s dark and empty. Up for it?”
I smiled, already laughing. “Absolutely.”
The office was down the street, so it didn’t take us long to arrive. He opened the door with a swipe of a card. The machine beeped and the light turned green, then unlocked. We were in.
“So here we have the reception room. A very nice room. Very nice. Designed it myself. Top notch. No better place.” He was putting on the self-centered act that I had earlier admitted to expecting him of. He had such a cheeky smirk when he spoke, waving his hands around the room, over-exaggerating every word and movement. In no time, I was gasping for air from laughing so hard.
He led me around the first floor, stopping at every room and saying something like, “Sharon’s office, also known as the dragon’s lair,” or, “Harry works here. He’s fucking nuts.”
When we got to the end of the hall at the elevator, I turned to look at him.
“We should go to your office,” I said, gathering up every ounce of courage I had.
He blinked, momentarily surprised, then nodded with a smile. “It is the best room in the building, I have to admit.”
My stomach twisting with anticipation, I stepped into the elevator behind him. This is it. This is actually happening. Holy shit. My mind was going in a million different directions. But when I peeked up at him, he grinned, and I was immediately at ease.
“So,” Derek said, as the elevator began to rise, “tell me more about this photojournalism dream of yours. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?”
“New Zealand. No question. It’s like Australia, minus the deadly animals. And there are more sheep than people. That, let me tell you, is my kind of place. It’s beautiful.”
“I’ve never been there, but now I have to go.”
“Have you done much traveling?” I asked, watching each floor light flash as we climbed higher and higher.
He shrugged. “Here and there. Mostly for business. I don’t get much of a chance to explore. My favorite place though was Spain, hands-down. The food was incredible.”
“Yum.” The elevator door opened. “I love photography. The concept of capturing and preserving a moment in time just seems… really significant, I guess.”
“I agree.” Derek unlocked his office with his card, and opened the door for me before turning on the lights. “Would you like any more to drink? I have some champagne.”
“You are spoiling me,” I said, grinning as I sat down on the black leather couch.
“And I do so most happily,” Derek said, bending behind his desk. He retrieved a pair of glass flutes and a bottle, pouring us each a generous glass. Sitting beside me, he handed me my drink and leaned back. “I have the suspicion that you don’t get out as often as you should. Besides, we’re celebrating you tonight. You deserve it.”
I took a sip, and studied him. His hair was tousled, his sleeves rolled up, a few buttons on his shirt left loose. Stubble graced his chiseled jaw. I found myself staring at his lips, my toes curling as I imagined kissing him.
By the time I snapped out of it, he was watching me, amused. He must have noticed me staring. I blushed for what was probably the thousandth time that night.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not really used to… this. You know. You were right when you said I don’t get out that often.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. You’re perfect.” Derek put his glass on the table, and I followed suit. He had me absolutely enchanted.
It was hard to tell which one of us moved first. One moment, we were staring at each other, frozen, waiting with anticipation—and then he was on me.
His hungry lips crushed against mine, as if he were starved. He tasted like bourbon. There was no resisting.
One of my hands tangled with his shirt, the other one knotted itself in his hair. He pulled me onto his lap, so that I was straddling him, and began to massage my breasts. I could feel him harden through his pants, and instinctively started to rub myself against him, letting out a small moan.
“I want to fuck you,” he breathed into my ear, his voice husky.
My mind didn’t seem to be working. All I could manage was an airy, “please.”
He stood up, carried me to his desk, and threw me down on the edge. Our lips crashed together again, eagerly, voraciously. My fingers fumbled blindly to unbutton his shirt, while he fought with the zipper at my back.
His stubble scratched at my cheek. He tugged on my lip with his teeth, sending a wave of want and pleasure through my spine.
Finally, I freed him from his shirt, and my dress was slipping off. I stood up to take off my panties while he unbuckled his pants. When his cock was released, my eyes went wide, and my first thought was, that’s not going to fit.
> He must have noticed the expression on my face, because he chuckled. I looked up shyly at him, feeling somewhat vulnerable as he studied my naked body.
He lifted his gaze and met my eyes, and I recognized the longing reflected back at me.
“You are beautiful,” he murmured softly. “Incredible.”
I was flooded by desire, and all I wanted at that moment was him inside of me.
Derek started to kiss me again, taking my chin in his hand. His other hand wandered to my breasts again, his thumb grazing over my hard nipples and sending small bursts of pleasure through my eager body. His hand continued its journey, tickling my stomach, then slipping between my thighs. His touch was so gentle, I wanted to beg him to stop teasing me. He brushed my clit with his fingertip and I inhaled sharply.
“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he whispered, and repeated the motion more firmly. Another sound escaped my lips, and my eyes fluttered closed. “Do you want me to fuck you hard, Amy?”
In response, I pulled at his hips. He smirked, and pressed against me.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you stepped foot in this office,” he said, slowly sliding a finger inside me. I leaned against the desk, my head rolling back and my knees trembling. If it weren’t for his strong arms wrapped around me, I might have melted into the floor.
Suddenly, he lifted me up on the desk again, knocking over a pencil jar and sending several pieces of paper flying. He grabbed my hips roughly and pulled me to him, his cock rubbing against me. His upper lip trembled, and his jaw tightened.
Then he pushed me back, so that I was lying on the desk looking up at him. He lifted my legs so that my ankles were resting on his shoulders and then he grinned down at me from between my legs. I squirmed with desire as he began kissing my ankle, which was right next to his mouth.
His mouth slid from my ankle, along my calf, all the way to my inner thighs. He licked both thighs, my legs still resting on his shoulders.
Royal Engagement Page 66
