by Selena Kitt
“So am I,” chirped Vivien with a smirk. “I’m sure he’ll enjoy seeing me again.”
Inside, I sizzled. There was definitely something going on between the two of them.
* * * *
Each meeting was more disappointing than the one before. While the agency heads and their teams pitched us with enthusiasm, everything was SOS. Same Old Shit! A gorgeous big-boobed beauty posing in scanty lingerie. It didn’t matter if she was sprawled on a bed or squatting wide-legged on chair. I was looking for something more. Something beyond the obvious that Gloria’s Secret equaled sexiness. I was looking for a story. A story of seduction.
My stomach bunched up with nerves as Nigel drove us downtown to our last meeting with ZAP! While I’d managed to keep Jaime Zander on the back burner for most of the day, I now faced the reality of seeing him again. I reapplied a coat of red lipstick. I needed to stay in control, not let him get to me.
We got there a little before five. Jaime’s gorgeous assistant Ray promptly greeted us in the reception area and offered us waters. I immediately caught sight of the sparks flying back and forth between Ray and Kevin. Ha! I knew Ray was his type! I shot a knowing glance over to Kev. He mouthed the word “hot.” Vivien rolled her eyes. A beaming Ray led us back to the conference room. Already seated at the large conference room table was a geeky twenty-something girl next to whom Ray took a seat. I took in my surroundings. Like the rest of the office, the windowless conference room was warm and creative. There was large flat screen TV on one of the walls and posters of successful ZAP! ad campaigns on the others. Facing me was a large canvas-covered easel. I wondered—was this the pitch?
“Jaime will be here shortly,” announced Ray. My heartbeat sped up at the mention of his name.
On cue, Jaime came flying into the room. I inwardly gasped. He was dressed in a tapered, perfectly tailored black suit, crisp white dress shirt, and a stunning black and blue patterned tie that accentuated his broad shoulders and brought out the blue in his eyes. I’d never seen him in suit before. Holy shit! Today, of all days, he was sexy Mr. Powerful. He took a seat at the head of the table next to me.
His eyes instantly connected with mine, and I could already feel the electricity in the air. I nervously played with my strands of beads.
“Hi, Jaime,” purred Vivien. “Great suit.”
“Thank you,” he replied stiffly.
My blood curdled. What was with them? I was growing more and more convinced that they had some kind of thing going on.
Jaime turned his attention to me and asked me to introduce everyone. He, in turn, introduced Ray, his assistant and protégé, and the funky young woman, Chloe, who was his head copywriter.
“So, Ms. Long, should we get straight into the pitch?”
“That would be good.” My tone was very businesslike despite the fact that I was buzzing all over. Damn him! The smartass knew his suit would affect me.
He flashed a smug smile that was intended only for me. “Excellent.” He rose to his feet and strode over to the easel. My eyes followed him.
“Ladies and gentlemen…” He swept off the canvas. “Gloria’s Secret. Let yourself be carried away.”
I gasped out loud. Facing me on a board, in fifty shades of gray, was the black- and-white image of a gorgeous blindfolded woman with long platinum hair, who was being carried down a sweeping staircase by a breathtaking, bare-chested Adonis. Lying limp in his brawny arms, she wore leather and lace—a skimpy bra, bikini bottom, and garter that held up sheer black stockings on her long dangling legs. Her ankles were bound together by satin shackles as were her wrists. I totally got it. She was submitting to her sex god. Letting him take her. To his bed. Or perhaps to his dungeon! Oh my God! This was exactly the story I was looking for. This was the new Gloria’s Secret advertising campaign—all in one line. “Gloria’s Secret. Let yourself be carried away.” I could immediately imagine in my head the print ad and television commercial. And the zillion hits on You Tube and our website. I loved the idea of shooting the campaign in black-and-white sepia tones. Fifty shades of gray! So fucking fresh! So fucking forward! So fucking sexy! It gave me the fucking chills.
Breathless, I asked Vivien what she thought.
She scowled. “I like it, but I think the woman should be a brunette. Our research shows that men prefer women with dark hair.”
True, but our research also showed that most women fantasized being a blonde. I turned to my second-in-command. My dear, lifelong friend who made everything happen.
“Kev, what do you think?”
“I think it’s fan-fucking-tastic!
That’s exactly what I thought. Fan-fucking-tastic! I could count on Kevin for his brutal honestly and to tell like it is. I so loved him!
Jaime’s lush lips curled into a smug smile. He was fucking genius and he knew it.
“Do you have any questions?” he asked.
Only one jumped to mind. “Mr. Zander, whom do you see doing the voice-over— a man or woman?
His lustful eyes lingered on me. “Definitely a male voice. It’s a story of seduction.”
My breath hitched before smiling my approval. “Mr. Zander, please have your business affairs people call mine. I’d like to put this campaign on the fast track.”
“Excellent,” said Jaime, his velvety voice still very businesslike. He thanked his team and dismissed them. The last bit of eye contact between Ray and Kevin did not go unnoticed.
He gazed at me. “Before you leave, Ms. Long, I’d like to have a word with you alone.”
I signaled with a jerk of my chin for my team to leave.
Vivien pitched a snit fit. “Excuse me, but don’t you think I should stay? I mean, this would be such a good learning experience for me. I could even be the point person on this campaign.”
“Vivien, please just go.” My voice was authoritative. “I’ll catch you up back at the hotel.”
“Fine.” She stabbed the word at me. With an arrogant fling of her hair, she reluctantly stood up and followed Kevin out of the conference room. Her hips swayed with sexy defiance. At the doorway, she turned her head and shot Jaime an arresting smile. “I’m looking forward to working with you,” she purred and then disappeared.
Her words got under my skin. I didn’t trust her. Not one bit.
Jaime pushed a button on a wall panel and the conference room door slammed shut. Nervous edgy anticipation swept over me. My eyes stayed fixed on his tall lean frame as he loped around the table in my direction. Stopping behind me, he played with my braid, feathering the ends of it against the nape of my neck. The ticklish sensation sent goose bumps crawling all over me.
“So, Gloria, I’ve won your account.”
“Yes. Congratulations.”
He let go of my braid and began to knead my shoulders. His touch sent a tingle to my core.
“Now, I want to win your cunt.”
My shoulders heaved and my body tensed. “I think you should stop.”
“Come on, Gloria. After yesterday, you know you want me as much as I want you.”
Damn it! It was true. A carnal wave of desire rolled through me.
He kneaded deeper. “Relax, angel. You need to let go. Trust me. Trust my every decision and move. Especially if we’re going to be working together.”
I chewed my lip and nodded.
“Good.”
He released my shoulders. Before I could blink, something whipped around my eyes.
“What are you doing?” I shrieked.
“What does it look like? I’m blindfolding you.” I felt him tie a strip of fabric tightly behind my head. A band of darkness shrouded my eyes.
I nervously touched my fingertips to the blindfold. The textured fabric was silky —for sure his tie.
“Why are you doing this?”
“I’m teaching you to trust me. Can I trust you not to take it off?”
Speechless, I nodded.
He lightly kissed the back of my neck. “You just got your first ‘A.�
�� Are you feeling more relaxed?”
“Yes,” I said breathily. Trust me, relaxed was the last word I’d use to describe how I felt. Every nerve ending in my body was buzzing with anticipation.
“Stand up. I’m going to undress you.”
“What if someone comes in?” I stammered.
“Don’t worry, the door’s locked. Now please stand up.”
I rose to my feet, my legs unsteady. The first thing to go was my suit jacket. So much for power dressing. He was rendering me powerless.
“Ah! Chanel! Size 6. With those tits of yours, I had you pegged for an 8. Very impressive.”
I didn’t flinch or say a word as he tore off my blouse and yanked down my skirt. In a few short heated breaths, I was stripped down to my ivory lace lingerie and my jet black beads. And the lace-trimmed silk stockings and Louboutin heels. A chill swept over me.
“Ah, Gloria. So apropos, you would wear white lace to celebrate our union. Like a bride.” He nuzzled the sensitive area between my shoulder blade and neck and played with my bra strap, his fingers grazing my scar. My pounding heart struggled to stay calm.
“You know, the type of lingerie a woman wears provides an outer expression of her inner sexuality.”
Madame Paulette had once told me more or less the same thing.
He continued. “And I’d say, Ms. Long, judging by the underwear you have on, you’re bottling up a lot of sexual energy. I’m going to unleash that.”
Bottling? I was overflowing with lust. I could actually hear bottle caps popping as he bit open the back clasp of my bra, his teeth grazing my sensitive flesh. He slid it off me and let it fall to my feet. Exposed, my breasts quivered. With a concomitant moan, his soft hands cupped my full mounds and warmed them. He squeezed them together and massaged them. Heat and moisture rushed to my core as my nipples peeked beneath his palms.
He breathed into my ear. “It’ll be hard to find someone as beautiful and sensuous as you to cast in the new Gloria’s Secret campaign.”
“I thought you loved a challenge,” I said, squeezing out the words.
“I do,” he said, flutter kissing every part of me.
He flipped me around and lifted me onto the conference room table. I could feel the hardness of the wood beneath my buttocks.
“Lie down, Gloria.”
I did as told, stretching myself across the length of the table. My chest rose and fell, my breasts still quivering.
I felt him tug at my red-soled stilettos. “Do you know what these shoes are?”
“They’re Louboutins,” I stammered. And they cost a fucking fortune.
“They’re Louboutins to you. But I call them ‘fuck me’ shoes. That’s why women wear them.”
He was right. The scantily clad models in our Gloria’s Secret catalogue only wore the highest of high heels. I shivered as he slipped them off, one by one, and heard them tumble to the floor.
He clasped my feet in his large, warm hands. His thumbs dug into my silk sheathed arches, sending a jolt straight to my sex.
“You have beautiful feet. Surprisingly small and dainty despite your stature,” he purred as he rubbed his thumbs up and down my inner soles.
“Thank you,” I murmured, too caught up with the erotic foot massage to say more. Shoe salesmen were always surprised that I wore a size 6.5AA despite my five foot seven inch height and hearty bone structure.
His thumbs continued making deep circles, sending yet another rush of toe-curling tingles to my core. A moan escaped my throat.
“You like having your feet massaged, don’t you?”
I was too enraptured to say a word. I merely nodded.
“Do you know why?”
“Why?” I spluttered.
“Because it releases you. Did you know that the nerves of the feet are connected to various parts of the body? Reflexologists believe that you can turn a woman on with just a foot massage. Even make her come.”
He definitely knew what turned on women. At least me. From aphrodisiacs to erogenous zones.
He applied pressure again to that particularly sensitive part of my soles. “ Tell me. Where do you feel that?” He pressed deeper.
Oh my God! My core was throbbing. And I could feel wetness pooling along the folds. I swear if he continued with this erotic foot massage, I was going to come.
“Answer me, Gloria.”
“Between my legs,” I moaned.
“Your pussy?”
I nodded.
“Say it, Gloria. ‘My pussy.’”
“My pussy,” I muttered.
“Good, Gloria. Another ‘A’ for you.” Ending the foot massage with a sensuous kiss on each sole, he unhooked my garters, one by one. My flesh tingled as I felt him peel off my stockings, sensually sliding them down my legs. With a whoosh, the lace garter came off next and then my bikinis.
A dose of reality hit me like a brick. Holy shit! I was laying butt naked on his conference room table. Me, one of the most powerful women in the world, completely at the mercy of a man I hardly knew. Totally exposed and vulnerable. Something was wrong with this picture. What was the hell was I doing? I need to stop this! Collect myself and get the hell out of here! But I couldn’t will myself to sit up. And when his hand slid under my ankles, it was too late.
“What are you doing?” I shrieked.
“What does it feel like?”
Holy fuck! He was tying me up. With one stocking, he bound my ankles together, so tight it almost hurt. And then with the other, he bound my wrists. I attempted to wriggle myself free; it was an exercise in futility. Blindfolded and bound, I was now his prisoner. My heart thudded in my ear, and I was breathing heavily. Now what was he going to do? God, I wished I could see.
“Gloria, now you’re mine,” he said, his voice deep and sultry. “I want you to relax. To not be afraid and trust me.”
Relax? He wanted me to relax? I was totally bared, tied up, and blinded, and he was about to plunder me. My mind flashed back to what he said in the steam shower the other day. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk. A deep shudder ran through me. I inhaled and exhaled deeply, remembering a breathing lesson from my yoga instructor. I inhaled again, blowing out the air. It wasn’t helping.
I shivered again as his warm, velvety tongue slivered up my right leg, from my ankles to the apex. He repeated the action with my other leg, this time leaving it where my inner thigh met the triangle between my legs. Spreading my legs a little, he seamlessly moved his tongue to my cleft, lapping the wet folds like a child lapping a melting popsicle. I moaned as heat rushed to my core. Then, I felt his luscious mouth come down on me, sucking and nibbling. Writhing, I moaned loudly as he rubbed my clit with his fingers. Two? Three?
“Oh, angel, you’re so hot and wet. And you taste so good,” he said breathily, taking a short respite from his sucking and licking. “I think you’re ready.”
In two quick moves, he unbound my feet and freed my wrists. I wiggled my limbs while his hand clenched my pussy. I wanted to scream.
“Ms. Long,” he said, his voice again businesslike, “you’re free to leave. Sit up, and I’ll take off your blindfold though I suppose you could do that all by yourself.”
I didn’t budge. He squeezed my pussy tighter. I groaned.
“Don’t you want to leave?”
Go, Gloria, a voice inside my head whispered. My body shouted something else: I want more! I shook my head feverishly, from side to side. I was aching for him.
Jaime let out a deep sexy chortle. “I didn’t think so. Now, we’re going to finish what we started the other day. Spread your legs wide and then bend your knees.”
I did as he asked.
“Good girl.”
I heard him unzip his slacks and climb onto the table—my sense, kneeling between my steepled legs. He grabbed one of my liberated hands and put it to his shaft. Its heat penetrated my palm and it was already hard. I curled my fingers around the thick, slab of hot velvet, and despite the blindfold, I could envisio
n it in its full glory.
“Gloria, I want you to put my cock inside you.” He squeezed my sex again. “If that’s what you want. You’re the client. The client always comes first.”
“Yes!” I gasped.
“Do it!” he ordered.
Blinded, I grappled a little until his erection was perfectly positioned at my hungry opening. Inch by thick inch, I inserted it. To my surprise, I took my time to savor the delicious sensation of my pussy stretching to accommodate his thickening magnificence. When it was almost buried to the hilt, he gave his cock a forceful thrust and just held it there. I clenched my inner muscles around his girth and wondered: did it feel as good for him as it did for me?
“Fucking perfection!” he moaned.
I got my answer. It was perfection…my pussy hugging his cock the way a good-fitting bra hugs a boob. His fullness felt divine.
“Now, I’m going to fuck you.”
Yes, fuck me. Fuck me hard. I’m ready!
Gripping my hips, he dragged his shaft back down and then thrust it back up. My drenched walls enabled him to glide smoothly. He repeated the movements, first slowly and then gradually picking up his pace. With each thrust, he hit an unknown sweet spot deep inside me that made me want to weep with carnal pleasure.
“Gloria’s spot…the G-spot.” He laughed at his own cleverness and then hit it again and again, rubbing against my clit with each masterful stroke.
All I could focus on was the exquisite swelling inside me. Oh, God! What this man was doing to me! He was a fucking genius. Pun intended.
I wanted to scream with joy, but bit my lip hard to stifle a shriek.
“Don’t worry. The room is soundproof. I always safeguard my interactions with clients. They’re highly confidential.”
An unnerving thought ran through my head—how many other clients had he fucked right here on this table? Vivien?
“Besides, I want to hear you. Don’t hold back.”
His intense pounding hurled me back into the moment. We got into a rhythm, my hips rocking to meet his thrusts. Deprived of my vision, my ears took in his harsh breathing and the sound of my beads jiggling against my heaving chest. The delicious pressure was building, the blindfold heightening the erotic sensations I was feeling. “Oh, God,” I heard myself cry out. My nails dug so deeply into the surface of the table I was sure they’d leave marks. I didn’t know how much more I could take. I was falling apart.
