Possessive Boss

by Hamel, B. B.

  “I haven’t… I don’t…”

  “You have and you do.” He tilts my chin up with his hand and kisses me again. With the other, he pulls my skirt up… up…

  He pushes my legs wide open. I’m dripping wet and I know it. He’s right, I can feel it, the excitement, the desire. It’s intense, almost too intense. It makes me want to rip off my clothes and kiss him, bite his lip, take his cock deep between my legs.

  He moves back. His eyes move down my body and they stop, looking at my pussy. “Perfect,” he whispers. He spreads my legs wider… and kneels in front of me. “Look at you.”

  I lean back on the desk. I’ve never been so exposed before in my life and I’ve never felt so aroused. He kisses my inner thigh, moving closer and closer until his tongue licks my pussy, top to bottom, tasting every inch. I let out a moan but stop myself. I can’t be too loud, there are still people in the office.

  He doesn’t seem to mind. He licks me and sucks me, tasting my pussy. I grab his hair and lean back on one hand as he does his work. I stifle my moans, turning them into little pants, little gasps. My breathing gets harder as he does his work, driving me wild, making the pleasure explode all along my skin.

  “Oh, god,” I whisper. “I can’t… oh my god.”

  He slides his fingers deep inside of me and stands. He kisses me, biting my lip, burying his fingers in my pussy. He fucks me with them, sliding them in and out, making me moan with pleasure as he kisses me. I moan into his mouth and he fucks my pussy, driving me wild with it.

  “I knew you’d be dripping wet for me,” he whispers in my ear. “I knew you couldn’t help yourself. You dirty little girl… filthy fucking Valerie.”

  “Oh, yes,” I moan.

  He drops between my legs again. He sucks my clit, licks it, fucks me with his fingers. He goes faster, faster, moving his strong hands on my body, his tongue driving me wild. It feels so good and I can barely keep quiet as the pleasure mounts all around my skin, making me shiver and groan, taking me closer and closer, making it build. I grab his hair tighter and say his name, a whisper at first, but louder.

  “Oh, fuck, Jacob,” I moan. “Oh my fucking god.”

  He doesn’t stop. He goes faster, the animal, the man. He licks and sucks my clit and makes me gasp and groan, my body tense, every muscle ready, every muscle perched and on the verge. I know I’m so close and I can’t believe it, his tongue and fingers driving me wild.

  I’ve been needing this all day, waiting for it all day, and the tension’s built up so much that now I know I can’t wait another second. His delicious tongue, his incredible fingers. I gasp out his name. “Fuck, Jacob,” I moan and throw back my head.

  I come with his fingers buried inside of me, his tongue on my clit. I come hard and he laps me up, nibbles me, sucks me, drinks me in. He growls his delight and I shudder, shaking. It feels like it lasts forever, but slowly I come back down to earth.

  He stands and licks his fingers clean, looking at me. He steps back and cocks his head. I’m sitting on his desk, sweating, breathing hard, my skin completely flushed, my legs wide.

  “Now, that was an act of devotion,” he says. “Do you understand, Valerie?”

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  If he can make me feel like that…

  I’ll show him devotion. As much as he wants.

  “Good. Now, get off that desk and come here.”

  I hop down. I straighten my skirt. God, it’s so uncomfortable, but I don’t care. I walk to him and press myself against his chest. He tilts my chin up and kisses me.

  I lean into that kiss. I can’t believe how much I need it and how good he tastes, even if I can still taste myself on his lips. He pulls me tight against him and I linger there for longer than I should.

  That’s when the door opens.

  We both look over. He doesn’t pull away though. Aimee steps into the room, about to say something, but stops midsentence.

  She stares at us, mouth hanging open. I’m in his arms and it’s obvious what we were doing. Aimee turns red and takes a step back. “I am so, so sorry,” she says. “I should’ve knocked. I’m so sorry.”

  “Aimee,” Jacob says.

  But she hurries out of there and closes the door behind her.

  “Oh, shit,” he says.

  I cover my mouth. I can’t believe what just happened. We weren’t supposed to get caught… this wasn’t supposed to happen.

  “Fuck,” he growls. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be fine.”

  “Fine? We’ll be fine?”

  He looks at me and nods once. “It’s not a problem. People have workplace romances all the time.”

  “But… isn’t it…”

  “Against the rules?” He smirks. “I’m the fucking boss, little Valerie. I’ll have a talk with Aimee and explain what she just saw.”

  “What did she see?” I ask.

  He steps back toward me. “You tell me.”

  “She saw me in your arms. Maybe she saw us kissing.”

  “But what did she really see?”

  “I don’t… I don’t know.”

  “She saw a man that owns what he had.” He tilts my chin toward her. “Is that right, little Valerie? Do I own you now?”

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “Good girl. I’ll tell her some version of that.”

  “A nicer version?”

  “One she’ll be more comfortable with.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “Good thing she didn’t come in ten minutes ago.”

  I turn bright red. I don’t know if I would’ve survived that.

  “It’ll be okay,” he says. “I promise. I’ll take care of it.”

  I nod once. “Okay. I believe you.”

  “Good. Now, go back to your desk and act like nothing happened. And smile at Aimee when you leave. Say good night.”

  “I’ll try. I might spontaneously combust though.”

  “You won’t. You can survive this.”

  “Yeah.”

  He kisses me one last time. “And by the way. You taste incredible.”

  “You think so?”

  “Absolutely.”

  I smile and turn away from him. I feel dizzy with joy and pleasure but also dread and embarrassment. It’s a strange, heady mixture. I get to his door and pause, turning back to him.

  “Jacob… are you going to demand more acts of devotion?” I ask.

  He nods, a smile on his lips. “Absolutely.”

  I smile back. “Good.”

  I leave and shut the door behind me. I walk to my desk, head held high, and sit back down.

  I won’t burn up. I won’t let myself die of embarrassment. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.

  Nothing bad can happen here. The only bad thing would be if my boss heard about this. I know that would be really, really bad.

  But it’s okay if I have a relationship with Jacob. I’m not investigating him. In fact, he’s helping with things.

  I don’t know whatever this is with him. I don’t know where it’s going. But it feels good.

  I’ll hang on to that.

  On my way out, I smile at Aimee and say good night. She grins at me as I go and winks.

  10

  Jacob

  The thing about white-collar crime is there’s nothing sexy about it.

  It’s esoteric in the sense that it’s mainly numbers on paper. Yes, it’s stealing, and it’s arguably more fucked up than other kinds of crime, because it affects a lot of people. It can bankrupt companies and destroy lives.

  But there’s nothing exciting about it. So whatever Darin is doing won’t exactly make the papers or end up in a movie.

  Which makes my job harder. Because it’s mostly just looking at numbers.

  I take a few days to dig. I pull documents and spreadsheets. I pull way more than I could ever use and try to find as many unmarked and strange accounts as I possibly can. I manage to point out a few, but I know there have to be even more. Documenting errors could account for the lac
k of information on a few of these, so I need to be sure before I start accusing him of anything.

  The Friday after Val’s little act of devotion, I send her a text.

  Me: My place, tonight.

  Val: Oh, yeah? Got some interesting plans?

  Me: Just about the hottest thing imaginable.

  Me: A bunch of printed-out documents and spreadsheets.

  Val: Talk dirty to me, Jacob.

  Me: Pivot table.

  Val: Yessss

  Me: Payroll slips.

  Val: Oh, Jacob. Stop. I can’t take it.

  Me: 1099 Forms.

  Val: I’m in heaven.

  Me: See you tonight.

  The driver drops her off around seven. I have some takeout for us and all the papers and pages spread out over several different tables. She comes in wearing tight black yoga pants, a sweatshirt, and glasses.

  I laugh when she steps off the elevator.

  “What?” she asks.

  “You’re dressed for a sleepover.”

  She frowns and looks at herself. “I know I’m not in work clothes but we’re doing research, right?”

  “Right.” I pour myself a whiskey. “Well, you are.”

  “What do you mean, I am?”

  “I mean, this is your investigation, fed.” I gesture at the pages. “Get investigating.”

  She gapes at me. “You’re not going to help.”

  I lean up against the couch and sip my whiskey. “Maybe. We’ll see how badly you need it.”

  She rolls her eyes and adjusts her glasses. “See, here’s the thing about me,” she says, walking to the first table and glancing through the pages. “I was hired by the SEC not to be some kind of super spy, but because I really like numbers. Like, really, really like them. I’m kind of sick actually.” She picks up a page and stares at it. “I could do this all night.”

  “You have no clue how hot you are to me right now.”

  She gives me a wry look. “Keep it in your pants.”

  “No promises there.”

  She smiles a little then looks back at the paper. Slowly, she sinks down into a chair. “Got a pen? And a notebook or something. And can I write on these?”

  “Hold on.” I find a pen and a hotel notepad. I hand it over. “Write on what you want, they’re all copies.”

  “Great.”

  She starts scribbling right away, basically forgetting all about me.

  So I sit and eat. She doesn’t seem to notice. I watch her for a while, eating slowly, drinking slowly.

  She’s in the zone, She wasn’t kidding about loving numbers. Once she was sitting down and looking at the stuff in front of her, it was like the room disappeared. It was like I didn’t exist anymore.

  I don’t know if I should be jealous or incredibly turned on. I think it’s a little bit of both, if I’m honest with myself.

  She notices me watching her after maybe an hour of paging through documents and spreadsheets, making notes on her little pad, and adjusting her glasses. “What?”

  “Nothing. Just admiring a master at work.”

  “I haven’t done anything. Yet.”

  “I have a feeling that if there’s anything to find in there, you’ll find it.”

  She sighs and sits back. She takes her glasses off and shakes her head. “Problem is, you’re incredibly disorganized.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Excuse me?”

  “I mean, it’s not bad,” she says quickly. “But if I were to do it, there’d be some secondary sorting qualifications. Right now, you’re just sorting by names and dates and file type. You don’t bother adding any other details, like amounts or size of fund or even who the manager is.”

  I frown. “We never needed to do that before.”

  “You never had to find someone laundering money through your company before, either.” She shrugs a little. “It’s just all a mess is what I’m saying.”

  “I put together our system, you know.”

  She smiles and walks over. She leans down and kisses me then pats me on the cheek. “And it’s a good system. I’d just make it better.”

  I laugh and grab her ass, pulling her down into my lap. She laughs back and struggles but I hold her tight. I grab her hair and pull it back, squeezing her ass with my other hand. “How would you improve it then?” I say, lips brushing hers.

  “I don’t know. I’d add that secondary sorting function, for starters. Maybe change to digital, have everything cross-referenced.”

  “Mmmm,” I say and bite her bottom lip. She takes a sharp breath and kisses me.

  I kiss her back, long and slow. Fuck, this girl is gorgeous and drives me wild. Even if she’s a huge fucking nerd.

  The kiss slowly breaks off. “I need to work,” she says.

  “You’re right. And I need a shower.”

  “You’re really not going to help?”

  “I’ll help after I shower.” I push her off and slap her ass. She gives me a look and shakes her head.

  “You’re impossible.”

  “Want to join me? Plenty of room for two.”

  “Tempting, but no thanks. One of us has to be an adult.”

  “Your loss.” I wave and head back into the bathroom.

  I let her get some work done without me. I don’t really need to shower this second but I know that if I don’t pull myself away, I’m going to end up undressing her and taking her body. She can’t afford that distraction right now.

  After I’m done, I put on some more comfortable clothes and rejoin her. She glances up at me then back down at her pad like I was barely even in the room. But finally, I decide to give in, pour myself another drink, and get to work.

  We work for a few hours. It’s nearly ten at night by the time I sit back in my chair and stretch. She’s filled the entire notepad with little scrawlings and scratches that are apparently supposed to be words. I haven’t found anything, except for a few instances of us overpaying employees, and the employees not saying anything about it. Not that they should, but still, rough.

  My phone starts ringing and I hold it up. “You mind?”

  She barely grunts at me. Despite having been at it for so long, she’s still in the zone.

  I have to admit, I’m impressed.

  I get up and walk across the room. I answer before it goes to voicemail.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, Jacob.”

  It’s my mother. I frown, surprised. She doesn’t call me. In fact, I don’t think she ever has. “Hello, Mother. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual. I was out at a gala and had some very interesting conversations.”

  “Did you tell them how much you donated this year? I’m sure your philanthropic pursuits are the talk of the town.”

  She laughs lightly. “No, not quite. But I did have some very interesting conversation nonetheless.”

  I glance over at Val. I don’t know if she’s noticed who I’m talking to or if she just doesn’t care. She’s still entirely engrossed in her spreadsheets.

  “Okay, Mother. I’m listening.”

  “First, I spoke with Dr. Ruthwig. Do you remember him?”

  “Old. White hair. Rich.”

  “You just described everyone I know, dear, but yes that’s the one. Dr. Ruthwig has been Darin’s father’s physician for twenty years. And do you know what he told me?”

  “That he eats too much pasta and doesn’t exercise.”

  My mother sighs. “No. He plays golf every Tuesday on a very exclusive course that Dr. Ruthwig is also a member of.”

  “So he likes to golf. So what? Lots of old men like golf.”

  “You’re not listening, dear. I spoke with another man, Rufus Spiers. He owns The Corsage, do you know the place?”

  “Fancy, high-end restaurant.” I get up and pour a glass of whiskey.

  “Right. He sees Mr. Ficino come in all the time. Almost once a week.”

  “So far you’ve found out that he likes to eat lunch and
play golf.”

  “Yes, you’re right, dear.” She talks to me like I’m a child she’s trying to teach how to read. “One more. I spoke with Alvar Harrop.”

  “Alvar Harrop?” I ask. “I know that name.”

  “Owns a technology firm. They do cybersecurity.”

  “Oh, yeah. I met him a couple years ago. He was going to invest with us but went with someone else at the last minute.”

  “He plays tennis several times a week—”

  “Let me guess,” I say, interrupting her. “Mr. Ficino also plays, also regularly.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Seriously, Mother. How is any of this interesting?”

  “You haven’t asked the right questions yet.”

  I clench my jaw. I’m starting to get annoyed. “What’s the right question?”

  “What do all those things have in common?”

  I hesitate. “They’re leisure activities.”

  “Yes,” she says. “And?”

  “You don’t do them alone.”

  “Exactly,” she says, sounding delighted.

  “You’re driving me insane. I’m serious.”

  “He does all these activities with the same men. Every week, the same men. And these aren’t the kind of men that my associates recognize. Alvar called them ruffians. Dr. Ruthwig called them thugs. And you know what Rufus called them?”

  “Gangsters,” I say.

  “Exactly.”

  I feel a chill run down my spine. “But is there any proof that these guys are in an organized crime family? I mean, aside from they look a little rough and are probably Italian.”

  “Not yet, but these men wouldn’t say even if they knew. They’re not stupid, dear.”

  “I see.” I look over at Valerie again and now she’s staring at me, not blinking. I give her a tight smile. “Thanks for calling.”

  “I’ve been asking some more. Politely and discreetly. There’s something to this, Jacob. I want you to be careful.”

  “You be careful too, Mother.”

  “I always am, dear.”

  She hangs up then. I sigh and toss my phone down on the couch.

  “What was that about?” she asks.

  “Nothing.” I stand up.

  “Nothing? I heard some of it.”