My Boyfriend's Boss

by Cassandra Dee

  “Just tired,” I said timidly with a small smile. It wasn’t a lie either. I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep after Mr. Langston had left me. I was in pain from his strange little visit. At the time, it had been pleasure turned torture, but now, every time that I thought about it, I grew wet. The torture was continuing. What was happening to me?

  The thought of him finally entering my pussy had scared me. I’d barely slept. I knew that he wasn’t going to be tender. It was obvious that Mr. Langston didn’t do tender, and his words haunted me. He was far bigger. I wasn’t going to stretch to fit him. I was going to tear, and it would hurt like hell.

  “What’s for dinner? It smells wonderful.” I said, trying to distract myself. If I thought about how Mr. Langston would be home from work soon and probably want to pick up where he left off, I’d start shaking all over again. He’d said he was going to take my virginity this morning and I’d been terrified when he walked into my room, but he simply left for work without even touching me. I should have been relieved, and while part of me was, another part—a newer part of me—longed for his touched.

  “Lamb and veggies,” Suzie said. “It’s Brick’s favorite. Although, I don’t know why he texted me this morning to request it. We’d planned on lobster. I had to go grocery shopping today, and that messed my whole schedule up.”

  I hid a smile as the chef fussed. One thing I knew without a doubt was that Suzie loved Brick like a son, and all that grumbling was bluster to hide the truth. “Mr. Langston says that he’s known you for a long time. How did you two meet?”

  “Brick told you that?” She frowned, but shrugged as she continued to chop the veggies. “He was my neighbor while he was in college. We lived in this shitty apartment building that should have been condemned ages ago. The ceilings had water stains. The carpet was torn and moldy. The pipes leaked.”

  I chuckled. “Sounds like my apartment.” Then I remembered that it wasn’t really mine anymore. “At least, the one that I grew up in.”

  “Well, the last thing that I wanted was some snot-nosed kid moving in next to me. He worked at night and went to school during the day, so he was coming in at all times and slamming the door. He’d throw wild parties during the week or come stumbling home drunk and try to get into my apartment instead.”

  “Wow, really?” My eyes widened. “He’s so meticulous about everything. I can’t imagine him like that.”

  “Don’t let that fool you. Even as a college student, Brick was different. Driven. I think most of his antics were just a bluff. He was hiding behind that dumb frat-boy facade. Inside was a driven and intelligent young man. His senior year, I fell and broke my damn leg. He started to visit and help out. He even tried to cook for me, and that was torture in itself. So I gave him a few cooking lessons—which seemed more like a ruse because I ended up cooking for him the rest of the year.”

  It was hard to imagine Mr. Langston standing at the stove and cooking for anyone. He wasn’t really the domestic sort. More like the predator type. Hunt and devour whole. “Did he move out when he graduated?”

  “No. He took a good job and made some money, but he stayed in that crappy apartment until he started to rise through the ranks at the bank. Even then, I think he only gave it up so he could project a different kind of image. He had some broken roots. That’s the only reason a person would cling to a place like that, and I think that’s what he tries so hard to forget.”

  Mr. Langston had told me that his grandfather was an alcoholic. I’d been dying to know more, but didn’t know how to ask. “Suzie,” I asked softly. “Has Mr. Langston ever been married? I tried to look it up online, but there’s very little about his personal life that wasn’t just tabloid speculation or pictures.”

  “No. No wife. Not even a steady girlfriend.” Her knife stopped in mid-air as she paused. “Girl, you’re not getting any fanciful ideas in that head of yours, are you? Brick is not the kind of man that you fall in love with.”

  My eyes widened in alarm, and I grabbed the counter to steady myself. The word lingered in my head. Love. “No. Lord, no. That’s not what I’m getting at. I just don’t know much about Mr. Langston. Or anything, really. I was just curious about why he is the way that he is.”

  “Do you care to be more specific?”

  “No,” I said hastily. “I’m just speaking generally.” The last thing that I wanted to discuss was Brick’s sexual proclivities. Especially with a woman who saw herself as his mother figure.

  “Brick doesn’t discuss his personal life with me. I shouldn’t even be discussing his history with you. What are your plans after this month is up?” Suzie said, changing the subject.

  Shifting back and forth on the balls of my feet, I thought it over. “Well, the plan was originally take the money so Ralph could get a nicer apartment here in Manhattan. We live in the Bronx, and he says that it’s not good enough to make an impression. I was going to move in with him.”

  “Was?” Suzie echoed as she gathered the chopped veggies and placed them on a baking pan. She began rubbing oil and seasoning on them. “You’ve changed your mind?”

  “No,” I said slowly, but knew that things were different. After only a few days of being here, I felt different. What would Ralph think when he laid eyes on me? Would he know all of the things that Mr. Langston had done to me? Would he be disgusted if I told him that I’d liked it? “I just have some thinking to do, that’s all.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “Ralph?” For some reason, the idea of loving Ralph was completely foreign to me, and I blinked at her.

  “Yes. Your boyfriend. The one who’s getting all the good stuff out of this. Do you love him? I figured you must if you were willing to sleep with another man just so he could get a better condo.”

  “It’s not like that,” I corrected quickly. “I mean, it’s kind of like that, but it’s not as cold and impersonal as your tone suggests.”

  “So you do love him?” Suzie prompted as she glanced at the clock. Leaving the veggies to smoke, she opened the oven to peer on the rack of lamb. Needing to do something with my hands, I grabbed the spoon and stirred the pot of mashed potatoes warming on the stove.

  “We’re comfortable together,” I said finally. “Love doesn’t always need to come first and immediately, does it? Sometimes it can just blossom over time, right?”

  “You didn’t strike me as a romantic,” Suzie grumbled.

  Laughing, I put the spoon down. “I’m not. Not really. I’ve always read books and seen movies and thought that relationships always started by this exploding passion. Even my parents were that way, but with them, I could see what happens when the book ends and the credits rolls. The passion turns sour. That’s why I think a relationship that starts with mutual respect and even friendship is better. You don’t make as many mistakes that way. Maybe that’s sort of the opposite of romantic though.”

  She chuckled. “And the opposite of what you have with Brick.”

  I clutched on to that observation like a lifeline. “Exactly. So there’s no reason to worry about getting attached to him.”

  “What happened to your parents?”

  Hopping up on the counter, I wrapped my arms around myself. “They were unhappy. My mother died a year ago.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Suzie said sympathetically. “That couldn’t have been easy.”

  “In a way, I think it was a blessing. She was so unhappy. Sometimes I wonder if she didn’t overdose on purpose.”

  “Unhappy? With you around? You’re like this annoying little ray of sunshine that never goes away. Even your damn name is irritating.”

  Suzie had a way of making me feel better, and I was grateful for it. “We had an interesting relationship. She loved me, but I think she also resented me a little. I was the reason that she didn’t leave when she wanted to. She was never really my mother though. I was more her lifeline, but even that wasn’t enough, I guess.”

  “And your father?”

  �
�He’s still alive. Found someone else,” I said shortly and shrugged.

  “Why were you a virgin, Daisy? And don’t give me that crap that you just never got around to losing it. That kind of life drives women to seek comfort in others. To want to forget. You don’t drink. You don’t do drugs. You didn’t fuck around, and I don’t think it’s because you wanted to be a good person. Why?”

  Gently easing down off the counter, I spread my arms. “I don’t know what to tell you. It just happened that way,” I lied. It was easier that way. Trying to describe my fear of sex was humiliating. It was painful enough to discuss my mother’s depression, but to talk about why she was like that?

  I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  “Fine,” the old woman grumbled as she opened the oven and put the veggies in. “Everything should be perfect in twenty minutes. Brick will be home in fifteen, so go change. Remember to pat the veggies down before you serve them. Brick doesn’t like them too oily, and only serve him a small helping of mashed potatoes.”

  She’d been drilling it into my head since she got there. “Go home. Enjoy your night,” I said with a laugh. “I’m going to be fine.”

  I headed to my room to change. This time, Mr. Langston had a green cocktail dress picked out for me. It was nearly as revealing as the sheer fabric that I’d worn last night, and the hem was a little higher than what made me comfortable. My curvy hips stretched the fabric a little too much, and if I bent over, far more would show than was appropriate—though I supposed that why Mr. Langston had chosen this dress.

  Once again, I wasn’t to wear panties underneath either.

  After refreshing what little make-up I wore and running a brush through my hair, I waited in the kitchen and tried not to panic. After Brick left me alone this morning, I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d be like tonight. Would he be angry? Impatient?

  Nervously, I clicked my nails on the table and stared aimlessly at the wall until realizing that the tapping of my finger was in sync with the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall.

  Mr. Langston was late.

  I covered the pot of potatoes so they wouldn’t get cold and took the veggies out. As I patted them dry, I set the oven on low to keep the lamb warm, praying that it didn’t overcook while putting the veggies back in too.

  Five minutes late turned into ten and then twenty.

  Had he been in an accident?

  I had no phone, no way of contacting him. After staring nervously out the window, I booted up the laptop that Mr. Langston said was okay to use and quickly went to the traffic website. There were no reports of accidents between here and the bank.

  Then twenty minutes turned into thirty. I removed the food from the oven and covered it with foil. Didn’t Suzie say he was never late?

  I started to pace.

  Thirty minutes turned into an hour, and my panic turned into fear. What if Mr. Langston was so angry with me that he’d decided not to come home? What if he broke our arrangement? I’d be back out on the streets before dawn. Ralph would never take me in if I didn’t have the money in hand, and I had no back up plan.

  Sixty minutes turned into ninety, and I managed to cut up the meat and separate them into storage containers. I cleaned the kitchen, and finally, when there was nothing left to do, went back to the computer.

  If Mr. Langston was going to come home and kick me out, I’d better have a damn good reason for him not to. If I had to seduce him and please, then I needed to know exactly how to or my ass might end up sleeping on the street tonight.

  My finger trembled as I typed in the search bar.

  How to be a submissive.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brick

  It was well after midnight when I finally arrived home. I’d spent most of the night at an upscale bar down the street. The day had been hell. I wasn’t a man of violent mood-swings, but my desperate need to fully take Daisy, combined with the fear on her face, had put me on edge all day. After leaving the office, I’d had the driver take me home—only stepping out of the car seemed impossible. Instead, I instructed him to drop me off at the bar.

  She needed to be punished. This was supposed to be an easy arrangement, and we were days into our contract and I still hadn’t fucked her. She was to blame. That deceptively sweet face and hot body of hers was anything but easy.

  Finally, when I’d had just enough liquor to know that Daisy would sway me from my desire, I went home. A single lamp was still on in the living room, and the penthouse was spotless. She’d done everything on the list and then some. A slow smile played on my lips.

  Daisy was learning.

  There was a note on the refrigerator address to Master. I immediately hardened. This was the first time she’d used the title unprompted. Fuck, she was learning fast. There were notes on the proper reheating instructions for dinner. She also noted that she’d be more than happy to fix me dinner if I wanted to wake her up.

  Oh, I had every intentions of waking her up, but it was not going to be for dinner.

  I stripped off my jacket, folding it over the chair and leaving my briefcase on the table. Unbuttoning the top few buttons of my shirt and rolling up my sleeves, I headed quietly up the stairs to her room. Easing the door open, I could see her sleeping form on the bed. The light from the hallway spilled in, bathing her in soft golden light.

  She was dressed in a blue sheer negligee. One strap had fallen down her shoulder, pushing the fabric down, leaving me just a glimpse of the edge of her rosy nipple. Her hair was spread over the pillow, and the diamonds around her throat glittered in the moonlight. She was so beautiful and so inviting. My feet almost moved on their own, carrying next to her bed.

  Her lips parted just slightly as she shifted, and I slowly leaned down. The need to taste her was overwhelming. To slip my tongue between those pouty lips, to nibble on them until she moaned into my mouth.

  Freezing, I gripped the headboard and closed my eyes. What the fuck was I thinking? I don’t kiss my subs. They weren’t relationships. They weren’t girlfriends. They were just for pleasure, and a kiss on the lips was far more intimate that anything I would do between her legs.

  It had been a long time since I kissed a woman—since even feeling the urge to kiss.

  Irritated with myself, I unlocked the closet door and find what would be needed for tonight. Returning to the bed, I gently picked up her wrists and secured them in the cuffs. Her large caramel eyes suddenly fluttered opened, and she gasped. Instinctively, she tried to scramble away from me, but the cuffs prevented her.

  I gave her a few minutes to wake up and realize what was happening. “Mr. Langston?” she whispered. “I thought something might have happened to you. I was worried.”

  Instead of answering her, I held up the blindfold. Her chest heaved as she stared at it and glanced uncertainly at me. Leaning over her, I covered her eyes and tied the blindfold in the back. “I’m going to have you, Daisy. I understand the importance that women put on their first times, but this isn’t going to be some romantic story that you tell your friends when you leave here. This is business. This is about money and pleasure. When you think about this moment, you don’t need to picture my face. You’ll just remember what I do to you. Do you understand?”

  At first, she didn’t answer. Angry, I reached out and pinched her nipple. Hard. She gasped and jerked under me. “Do you understand?” I repeated coldly.

  Whimpering, she took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes. Master.”

  God, she’d done it. The acknowledgement had come on her own, completely unprompted by me. Clearly, her time alone had been well spent. With a growl, I shoved the covers back and reached between her legs. I’d expected to find her panties, but instead, she was bare.

  And wet.

  “What is this?” I hissed and slid a finger inside her. “Did you touch yourself tonight, Daisy?”

  “No, Master. I was waiting for you.”

  “So why are you wet?”

  Even in the
dark, I could see her blush as she turned away. Withdrawing my hand, I smacked her pussy, and she groaned. “Answer me when I ask you a question.”

  “I didn’t do anything. I swear. It’s just that when I think of you…when you’re near…” her voice trailed off, and I smiled. The girl more than pleased me.

  Withdrawing my hand, I stood from the bed to undress. Her head turned in my direction, and I could tell that she was trying to find me, but I kept my movements silent. Her hands clenched above her head, and she started to close her legs. “Master?” she asked hesitantly in the darkness.

  Naked and aching, I returned to the bed and crawled between her legs and pushed them apart again. She was wet, but she still wasn’t ready for me. I was large, and knew that taking her virginity would be painful for her. Still, I didn’t want to hurt to the girl. Leaning down, I slid two fingers in her and stroked while also stretching and preparing her as best as possible.

  “Mr. Langston. Master,” she whimpered. I leaned down and nipped at her inner thigh. Immediately, she shifted her legs farther apart, and I wedged a third finger inside her. Daisy cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure, and I quickly slid my tongue over her clit. From her body’s reaction, I could tell that she was confused. She retracted and pushed forward, working through the pain and wanting more.

  I stroked harder and rough, but continued to lick and suckle on her until her whole body went taut and her pussy shuddered around my fingers.

  “Oh, Master,” she moaned, her climax close. I pushed even more, plunging my fingers into her, driving her pleasure.

  “Do you enjoy this?” I asked her, mouth hovering over her pussy. I licked her clit again and she cried out, falling over the edge.

  “Yes, Master!” she yelled while writhing under me.

  Her gasping moan sliced through the dark as she arched towards me and twisted. The handcuffs clanked against the headboard, and I used my body to anchor her to the mattress.

  “Oh, God,” she panted as her muscles relaxed.