by J. D. Chase
She sat back and attempted to take a sip of her drink but found that it was empty. Shit! That’s two G and Ts and it’s only mid-afternoon.
Xander took the glass from her hand and picked up her first that he’d discarded earlier. Placing his laptop on the table, he took them over to the minibar and expertly began to fix them another.
‘Not for me, thanks Xander,’ she called but he ignored her and thrust one in her hand as he took a sip from the other.
‘Nonsense. We’re having a relaxing, productive business meeting. Since when has a little drink or two been against the rules?’
She smiled. ‘Fair comment. But I’ve already had my drink or two so I’ll pass.’
He sat next to her and pulled one leg up under the other so his thigh was pressing firmly against hers. Suddenly, she needed that drink. Xander’s body in contact with hers made her hot and flustered.
He laughed and leaned right in so that his chin almost rested on her shoulder before whispering, ‘I’ve changed the rules. A little drink or three is allowed.’
She giggled and took a sip, marvelling at the change in him. When he’s like this, relaxed and friendly, he’s good company . . . still a little unnerving and it isn’t his fault that his touch does things to me that it had no right to, is it? She just needed to get herself under control – not easy when the sight of those soft lips brought back the memory of that kiss.
She took a gulp as she gave herself a quick, mental dressing down for her own inappropriate behaviour until she realised that Xander was watching her intently and she remembered that he was awaiting her opinion on the hotel’s failings.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered, giving him an apologetic smile. ‘I was just thinking it through.’
‘Okay, so if you’re good and ready, lay it on me.’ His smile was more provocative than his choice of words . . . and those lips! God, what’s happening here? I’m lusting after my boss at his encouragement.
Just ignore him. Don’t react and he’ll get bored. She almost laughed out loud when she realised those were the words her mother used to utter when Isla complained about teenage boys vying for her attention.
She found that once she got into her stride, she relaxed and forgot about his thigh touching hers. He listened patiently, interrupting only to ask pertinent questions and nodding occasionally as if agreeing with her. After a while, he got up and made them each another drink, signalling for her to continue speaking as he poured.
She was running out of thoughts when there came a knock on the door.
‘Come in,’ he barked, making Isla jump.
The door opened and Belinda sashayed in. Her mouth gaped when she took in the newly changed interior and she did a comedy double take when she saw them sitting on the sofa. She might have tripped over her bottom lip had she not been rooted to the spot. She looked from Xander to Isla and then back to Xander and seemed incapable of speech.
‘Yes, Belinda?’ Xander enquired. ‘Can we help you?’
We? We’re not a we! Isla glanced at Xander and was horrified to note that his arm was resting along the back of the sofa behind her. What’s more, she’d tucked both her legs up under her so her body was slumped towards him. She looked down and saw that his bent leg was now resting on one of hers. When the fucking hell did that happen? That won’t help to stop the rumours! Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck it!
She didn’t know whether to move or keep still. Moving would make her look like she’d been caught doing something wrong, but not moving could make it seem like she was gloating over Belinda the Class A Bitch.
She looked up as she tried to judge the situation. Belinda’s glossy pink mouth opened and closed, making her look less like her usual duck-face and more like a prize caught salmon. ‘It . . . it doesn’t matter,’ she stammered before recovering and giving Isla evils. ‘I can see you’re busy.’
She turned and flounced out the door, pulling it shut with a bang.
‘What’s with her?’ Xander asked, looking confused. ‘It’s like there are walking hormones everywhere.’
I shrugged. ‘I think she probably wanted your undivided attention and I had it. I thought you liked walking hormones. You seem to be enjoying it so far from what I’ve seen.’
Xander leaned in closer and whispered. ‘Shall I tell you a secret, Red? You will always get any real man’s undivided attention. Belinda couldn’t begin to compete with a woman like you. And you could hardly be described as walking hormones . . . I meant the other females in the building but yes, I can’t deny that I enjoyed it and I know you did too.’
Isla wanted to tell him that he’d misunderstood, that she was referring to his flirting with the receptionists – not her – but when she turned her face to find his just inches from hers, words failed her. He’s going to kiss me again! Do something! This can’t happen again.
But he didn’t. His expression changed in a flash and, if he’d been going to kiss her, he’d obviously decided against it.
Bastard! I mean thank fuck. I mean . . . oh I don’t know what the hell I mean any more!
She finished filling him in on the results of her findings and her own observations, during which Xander made her another couple of G and Ts. He sat back and seemed to be considering how to respond. He then told her how much he appreciated her honesty, her insightful observations, and suggestions, and said that he now had a much better idea of how to tackle turning around the hotel. He asked her if she was happy to plough on and help him to formulate an action plan. She readily agreed as she drained her glass yet again. She was in her element. She loved a challenge and she loved making detailed plans. But then he looked at his wristwatch.
‘I’ve just noticed the time. I’m sorry, Red. I’ve kept you past working hours. You’ll have missed your train.’
How the hell did that happen? I must’ve been in here for hours. She shrugged. ‘They might not be running again yet anyway. I’ll take a cab when we’re done.’
His eyebrows raised sharply and he pursed his lips. ‘I’m starving. Let me give you a lift home or . . . we could grab dinner somewhere and continue our discussion. It’ll be on me – I’ll file it under expenses.’ He gave her a cheeky wink, making her giggle. He didn’t seem the winking type.
She was tempted. It had been ages since she’d eaten out because she could no longer afford to. And the prospect of getting home by forking out for a cab was hardly alluring. But what made her decide to agree was the change in his attitude towards her. She felt relaxed and had honestly enjoyed the afternoon and besides, she couldn’t wait for measures to be taken for the hotel to reach its potential. She had so many ideas for the place.
‘You’re the boss,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Lead on.’
He laughed, got up and grabbed his jacket from the coat stand. He waited whilst she retrieved her handbag from her desk and then they left the office together. Walking through reception, she felt rather than saw the evil looks from the reception desk. What’s Barbie still doing here so late? She should have gone home ages ago! Only Nadine should be here.
She felt Xander’s hand on the small of her back as they drew level with the reception desk. She grinned to herself at the thought that he was deliberately winding the women up. Ah, what do I care about the rumours? I know there’s nothing in it so let them waste their time with gossip and vitriol. After several gin and tonics, she didn’t care about much at all. She was happy and carefree . . . and very slightly pissed.
In the car, he pushed the ignition button and the six-litre V8 engine roared to life then purred as he allowed it to tick over. In the confines of the sport bucket seat, she could feel the throb of the engine vibrating along her legs . . . and between them.
Xander began to push buttons on the pop up display and AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long pumped from the speakers.
‘Oh yes!’ she cried as her body began to move to the beat. ‘What a tune!’
He laughed but as she sang along with the chorus he muttered, ‘Not yet, Red. But I will.’
She wasn’t sure if she’d heard him correctly so she ignored it. Besides, she was well into the anthemic track, giving it her all as Xander negotiated the rush hour traffic.
The rock theme continued, and so did her enthusiastic rocking out, until he pulled up outside a building that could easily have been a stately home. She realised that she’d paid no attention to where he’d driven and had no idea where they were.
Oh my God, please tell me he hasn’t brought me to his home!
Thankfully, upon closer inspection she determined that it was, in fact, a very exclusive hotel.
Xander rounded the bonnet and opened the passenger door, then took her arm as she climbed out. She tried not to give him an eyeful of thigh as she did so. He led her through the entrance and into the busy restaurant. The maître d' showed them to a very private table on the far side of the room that was semi-screened by large potted plants. Xander moved his chair closer to Isla’s before sitting down, giving her a megawatt smile that could lower any defence.
Isla had been looking forward to seeing the menu and choosing what to eat because, judging from the décor and ambience, it would be excellent; but Xander ordered the set menu for both of them without consulting her. She debated raising an objection but figured that since he was paying, it would be impolite; plus she didn’t want to spoil the jovial atmosphere that had formed between them.
The sommelier glided up to the table and, after a consultation with Xander in fluid French that Isla couldn’t follow, poured them both a glass of white wine.
‘Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me. I think we’ll accomplish quite a lot as we dine which will hopefully bode well for the future,’ Xander said, smiling and looking as relaxed as she felt.
‘It’s my pleasure. I just wish I’d had chance to dress appropriately. I feel very underdressed,’ she replied, taking a sip of her wine. It was deliciously crisp yet surprisingly smooth.
With a wave of his hand, Xander dismissed her comments. ‘I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine and, if anything, you’re overdressed, although that dress suits you. It clings to your curves in all the right places as I’m sure every hot-blooded male has noticed today. You have a fantastic body, so much better than all those waifish types. And I’ll tell you this, curves with confidence is a heady combination that’ll give any man the erection of a lifetime.’
Isla swallowed. Is he coming on to me? As usual, he’d chosen his words carefully so that it could be a harmless compliment or a subtle come on. She couldn’t help but feel flattered.
She gave the only response that her tipsy brain thought would be suitable in either case. She looked him in the eye and said, ‘Thank you but I’m not interested in what men think.’
‘So you’re a lesbian?’
She was about to correct him but figured that if he was coming on to her, then he’d stop if he thought she was only interested in women so she said nothing.
‘Do you know that it’s every man’s fantasy to see two women together? To watch their soft fingers and tongues pleasuring one another, as he sits back and strokes his cock.’ He grinned wickedly, leaning closer. ‘Unless of course, he were invited to join in.’
The predatory expression left her in no doubt that he would love to see her with another woman and that he was getting turned on.
‘Can you imagine that, Red?’ His voice had dropped to a whisper and she could feel his breath on her ear.
Could she ever! Oh my God. That’s so fucking hot! Oh no, this is all going badly wrong.
She gulped down a mouthful of wine, attempting to keep her own arousal under control. She had to cool him down some.
‘But I’m not a lesbian,’ she said simply, feeling stupid for having allowed the insinuation that she was.
His lips were almost touching her ear now. ‘So that would just leave the two of us to pleasure each other, wouldn’t it? Can you imagine that?’
Intimate images formed in her mind. Oh yes, I fucking can! She shook her head.
‘I think you’re lying but if you can’t imagine it, perhaps I’ll just have to enlighten you. Are you ready to get down to business?’
What?
Thankfully, they were interrupted by the arrival of the first course and Isla tucked in and began to babble away, raving about how delicious it was – anything to get off that dangerous topic of conversation.
He sat back and watched her with a lazy, self-satisfied grin on his face.
Thankfully, for the next three courses – Isla was beginning to wonder how many courses there would be – Xander behaved impeccably and they did indeed get down to business. They argued good naturedly about whether the hotel needed a total makeover or whether the old-fashioned luxury look would cut it in the current climate. The conversation was interspersed with much laughter and joviality and Isla relaxed once more. She realised that the sommelier was doing a fantastic job of keeping several delicious wines flowing with the courses. Something irked her about that but she couldn’t think what it was.
When the pre-dessert dessert arrived, Isla announced that she couldn’t possibly eat any more. Xander laughed and then told her that she must force herself because her curves needed maintaining as much as his hard-on needed release.
She burst out laughing.
‘You think I’m joking?’ he challenged.
She continued to laugh until he grasped her hand and placed it over his cock. She gasped, not sure whether it was because of his audacity – shoving her hand on his crotch in a public place – the fact that he did indeed have a raging hard-on, or because her clenching pussy told her how much it needed to feel his cock. Not just feel it, but claim it, pleasure it and milk it dry. She didn’t care whether that was with her hands, her mouth or her pussy. She just wanted that cock!
She raised her eyes to his and saw the need in him too. Neither moved. Neither spoke. Each seemed to be waiting for the other to say what needed to be said. His cock twitched under her hand, telling her what he wanted without him uttering a word; but he was her boss and she knew nothing about him. Nothing except his name and she didn’t even know his full name . . . but that rock-solid cock was calling to her. She could almost feel its silky skin. Her hand closed around it, making his breath hitch. It had been so long since she’d had sex. Six whole months, albeit by her own choice but she’d never been turned on in all that time, never put herself in a situation where she might weaken. Until now. So there she was, sitting with hormones raging, her hand wrapped around her boss’s long, thick, twitching cock.
‘Er, Red . . . having your hand grasping my cock is fantastic, don’t get me wrong, but if you keep rubbing it like that, I think I’ll explode.’
Rubbing it? Holy fuck, so I am!
‘And I think it’s only fair that since you got me in this state, you help me relieve my discomfort,’ he breathed, his eyes daring her to refuse.
She smirked. ‘You were already in that state before I touched you and it was you that put my hand on you.’
‘But you made it hard. I’ve been battling burgeoning erections since I first laid eyes on you last Monday. Every time I walk away from you I have to readjust my pants.’
She gave his cock a squeeze. ‘Not my problem, Xander. If you can’t control yourself, that’s not my fault.’
He leaned in closer still and caught the lobe of her ear between his teeth. She shivered, which seemed to embolden him further because he placed a hand on the skin of her thigh. ‘I can’t control myself when your hand is squeezing my cock, trapping my blood flow so that my hard-on has no chance of retreat. That’s unfair. Perhaps I should even the score . . .’
He deftly slid his hand up her thigh and over the front of her lace panties. She fought hard not to show a reaction, although every single nerve ending in her body screamed it was on fire. ‘Score? Is that what this is – a game? Or your way of telling me you’re a player?’ she said, wishing she could toss her hair haughtily without head-butting him.
‘I
’m playing a game of tit for tat, if that’s what you mean . . . or rather pussy for cock.’ His fingers pressed firmly against her mound as he said the word pussy.
‘You’ll be playing a game of getting us kicked out of a fancy restaurant if the waiter reappears.’
He chuckled, his breath against her ear making her want to tilt her head to expose her neck, but she resisted. She could tell he was used to winning . . . but she hated to lose.
‘That’s the beauty of hotels like this. I assure you that if a waiter appeared, he’d show no surprise at what we’re doing. He’d go about his business then leave.’
‘Taking my dignity with him?’ she countered. ‘I don’t know about you but I’m not an exhibitionist.’
‘You don’t know what you’re missing,’ he quipped, and from the way he said it, she wasn’t at all sure that he was joking.
‘I prefer to keep my sex life private.’
‘Whoa, Red! Slow it down! Who said anything about having sex? Although now you mention it, I’ll bet the beds here are sprung well enough to withstand the thorough fucking that I could inflict . . . if I was with the right woman of course.’ To emphasise his words, his fingers began to move in slow, measured circles on top of the thin layer of lace.
Her legs seemed to have a mind of their own, and a dirty mind at that, because she felt them fall open a little more, giving him better access. Although she didn’t want to, she knew she should move them back so he couldn’t say she’d encouraged him, but she heard him moan, deep down in his throat as his fingers pressed into the top of her slit and found her most sensitive place.
‘Is that your subtle way of telling me that I’m the right woman?’ Holy fucking hell! She didn’t know how much of this she could withstand before she exploded. Literally – she felt as though she were a dam under pressure, and cracks were appearing.
‘Well, if the beds can withstand my thorough fucking, what about you, Red? Are you woman enough to withstand the unleashed onslaught of my desires? If your body can’t take the full brutal force of a real man, then back out now because when I fuck, I really fuck!’
