by Nella Tyler
“Right fucking here,” he repeated with the same exact tone, but perhaps just a little bit deeper. He took another step towards me and I shifted backwards until my ass ran into the edge of the conference table behind me. “We don’t have a lot of time, Lindsay.”
“Then maybe we shouldn’t.”
“Nonsense.” He bit into his lower lip as he continued to approach me torturously slow. With each measured step, my nerves tangled even more until I reached the point where I might as well have been standing in a pool of quicksand. He shook his wrist and checked the time on the golden watch that adorned his flesh. “By my count, we have less than ten minutes, so we should probably get this show on the road.”
“O… okay,” I stuttered and swallowed a nervous lump in my throat. “What do you want—”
Before I could finish, his body was pressed against mine. He was warm, no hot, hotter than the sun. He was so sure of himself, so damn cocky, but that was part of his charm for some inexplicable reason. I think it was because he had his life put together that I could put up with all the bullshit that came with him, all that damn baggage.
And even if I couldn’t put up with him in the long run, I could put up with him in the short term. Like, I could easily manage to be around him when he was sending shivers down my spine with his hot lips pressed against the base of my neck. He had a way of making me feel alive, but I knew he wouldn’t stick around for long. He’d use me and then he’d dump me in the trash with the rest of his has-beens, but still I couldn’t resist.
The allure was too strong. The taboo was too irresistible. Everything about him lured me in like a fish that was caught hook, line, and sinker. At times, I was more than happy to be caught on his bob. Other times, not so much. I couldn’t tell if this was one of those times or not. All I know is that my heart was racing too hard, too fast, almost as if I was about to have a heart attack.
“What if we get caught?” I questioned lowly as he continued to run his lips along my neck, his breath like a match against the heat of the trail of wetness he left behind. “We could lose our jobs.”
He recoiled slightly and cocked his head at me. “You do realize that I’m the boss, right? Nobody here is going to fire me. Nobody here can fire me.”
“I think there’s probably stipulations in there somewhere,” I pointed out. “Like, say, the board of directors.”
“I’m not worried about those sorry old men.” He waved off my concern and adjusted his gaze so that it fell entirely on me. “What I am worried about is the clock, because we’re quickly running out of time.”
“It’s just—”
He pressed one finger against my lips, effectively hushing me. “It’s just absolutely nothing.”
Okay, I nodded, ready to commit to whatever the hell was going to happen. He wasted no time in getting to work—not work, work, but you know, sex work—and planted a hand on either of my lips before leaning in to kiss me gently. It was void of passion, but still somehow electrified me. It was short too. Entirely too short, but like he said, time was running out and there was no time to waste on juvenile acts such as kissing.
His hands fumbled to the front of my blouse where he made quick work of my buttons, stripping my shirt from my body in no time so that I was standing in a bra and a skirt. His hands fell to my thighs as he climbed underneath my skirt and tangled his fingers around my thin panties.
I locked my eyes with him and saw the dark storm clouds circling his orbs. They were desolate, and feral. They were hungry. It was like he was possessed by a demon or something, and for whatever reason, that only intensified the lust I had for him.
My heart seemed to be skipping beats as I continued to watch him, just waiting for him to fuck me right there on that table. I could feel the skin of his fingers caressing my skin along my hip until, with one forceful rip, he tore my panties on one side.
And then he tore the other. He removed my torn panties from my body and balled them up before stuffing them in his back pocket.
“That wasn’t very nice,” I said playfully and hooked my arms behind his head. It was right then and there that I decided to at least try and take a little control back. After all, I had been known to be a control freak.
Caleb had other plans; when exactly didn’t he?
With a forceful twist, he turned me around so that I faced the elongated table. One hand fell to my hair as he combed his fingers through my locks, and then dipped down to caress my back slowly, carefully. Without notice, he pushed hard against my back, pushed me so that my face lied flat against the table.
With his other hand, he pushed my skirt up my thighs so that he could get a better view. His hand continued to trail down my back, marching a path to my now bare ass. Once there, he landed a hard slap against my ass.
It took everything I had in me to not scream, but I still could not control the moan that hopped from my throat. I was torn between two worlds, wanting to continue just the way things were going and wanting to be given back just a little bit of control. I knew Caleb wouldn’t settle for anything other than the former.
“So fucking hot,” he growled and landed another slap against my opposite ass cheek. “So fucking sexy.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I craned my head over my shoulder and tossed him a seductive glare. I had decided to play along with his fantasies. “Are you just going to stand there and let the minutes tick by, or are you going to actually do something about it?”
His eyes waged war with mine, but he accepted my challenge. Without averting his eyes, he reached down and popped his slacks open and drew the zipper down. He chewed into his lip as he retrieved his hard and swollen dick from the inside of his underwear.
I lost the staring war as I gazed down at his thick member and then closed my eyes in anticipation as he began to caress my bare back with his strong hand again. When I felt the heat of his hardness against my opening, I adjusted my head against the table and opted to stare straight ahead at the opposite wall where white blinds were pulled shut and blocking off the view into the opposing hallway.
I imagined that if someone really wanted to, they’d be able to peek through the thin cracks of the blinds and that’s the last damn thing I needed, for someone to see me that way. I was already past the point of vulnerability I was used to displaying. I didn’t need peeping Tom’s to unsettle me further, especially because a prospective peeping Tom would have been literally looking into my eyes as I was pounded from behind.
But all those thoughts—all the worry and intrigue—vanished when he pressed his cock against my opening, and then slowly began to sink in. I winced as he filled me slowly and carefully, feeling as if I was being torn open from the inside, but in the best possible way.
Finally, he reached the hilt and I could feel pelvis pressed against my ass. He dropped both hands to grip me at the hips and then slowly began to pull out. It took everything I had to refrain from verbalizing my pleasure. It took everything within me to stay in place when I wanted to, alternatively, shrivel away from him and back up against him so that he’d fill me to the hilt again.
But he was set on his own pace. He wanted me just the way he had me, and I guess that was enough.
Just when he was about to free himself from me, he slammed back in. There was nothing careful or gentle about his thrust. And he did it again, almost blinding me in the process. My world went dizzy in an instant as I tried to regain my bearings, but it was no use. Just when I thought I had a handle on the situation at hand, he thrust into me once more, sending me scrambling.
I tried to hold onto the table, but I was too far away from the edge to be able to hold onto anything, and though my fingernails hadn’t been clipped in a while, there was no way they were sharp enough to dig them deep enough into the wood to be able to get a good grip.
So I just stayed there as he fucked me from behind, hoping and praying that the prospective peeping Tom wouldn’t flick his fingers between the shades on the opposite wall. It’s not that the act wasn’
t pleasurable—it was—but I just couldn’t bring myself to feel Caleb the way I had felt him the other night. Not at that pace. Not there in the conference room where I had had so many professional meetings.
But something about the taboo of it all, sex in public, for some reason that lit my mind on fire.
His fingers dug deeper into the flesh around my hips as his grunts intensified. He was close to an explosion, but I remained transfixed in my current position, just waiting for him to blow his load.
And when he did, his fingers dug in even deeper, leaving marks where his nails were. It was so animalistic and feral and even though I was robbed of my own release, I was content with how things had played out.
He pulled himself free from me like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough, and pulled his trousers up in a hurry. I didn’t blame him for that though. I jumped to my feet and straightened my skirt out while he buckled his belt.
I was expecting conversation, nothing too serious, but at least something light. I didn’t get that. He patted me on the shoulder as a cocky grin hitched across his lips, and in the shortest of breaths, he actually said to me, “Thanks.” And then he turned to palm his hand around the doorknob.
“Excuse me?” I threw my hands to my hips. “Thank you? What does that mean? This isn’t a service I’m providing for you.” I was seriously incensed, but I tried to play it off with a light laugh.
He pursed his lips and nodded, like he was contemplating what I had just said and perhaps was winding himself up to apologize. He didn’t. He just shrugged and walked right on out, leaving me alone and feeling like shit.
# # #
With a chocolate ice cream cone held in one hand, I walked down the street side by side with Ina during our lunch break. I was ranting and raving, but she was seriously too lost in the goodness of her own ice cream cone that I’m sure she wasn’t hearing a word I said. Still, I needed to vent.
“Can you believe that asshole?” I questioned, shaking my head in disbelief but knew I was hitting a blank wall. Still, it felt good to get it out of my system all the while knowing she wasn’t paying any attention. “I mean I get that he’s the freaking captain of the universe as far as he’s concerned, but I’m not a hooker.”
“No.” Ina shook her head while lapping her tongue against the top of the ice cream cone. “You’re not experienced enough.”
“Seriously?” I narrowed my eyes on her. “That’s what you’re going to bring to this conversation.”
She shrugged and passes her eyes over mine. “To be honest, I’m just a little stressed out about this new project I was assigned today, and I’m just trying to enjoy my ice cream.”
I stopped dead in my tracks and smirked at her. “Tell me, why are we even friends again?”
She shrugged again. “Because you’re a helpless, friendless bitch, and you’d have a lonely existence if it wasn’t for me.”
I glared at her, but thought sincerely about what she had said. “Touché,” I said lowly, not necessarily agreeing with her assessment, but agreeing in the kind of way that a best friend often criticizes their friends.
Since I wasn’t getting much out of Ina, I had to make my own mind up when it came to Caleb and what I was and wasn’t willing to accept. My end goal became staying the hell away from him at all costs. Sure, I had envied him for some time and he was built like a Greek god with the sexual prowess of a machine. But it wasn’t enough to compensate for his sometimes shit personality. He was a dick for expecting me to let him fuck me in the office like I was just at his beck and call, and then saying thank you, as if I had just provided him some kind of service.
But fuck me if I could deny how good he was in the sack.
Chapter Eleven
Caleb
Nothing could clear my mind like a nice day on the greens. Nothing could quite agitate me as much either. Golfing wasn’t a sport I loved or was even close to being fond of, but there were many contracts secured on the same course I found myself at.
I wasn’t very good at it, but I was decent enough to not embarrass myself. Sometimes, the swing of my club against one of those tiny, white balls was enough to put me at ease. Other times, it was enough to send me into a frenzied state, because at my core, I’ve always been an extremely competitive person. Again, I wasn’t that great at golf, so every time I swung and missed, my cheeks flushed red with something that resembled rage.
I focused my eyes on the ball first and then focused my eyes out into the distance. Though I couldn’t see the hole from my current position, I could see the white sand surrounding it. That’s where I planned to drive the golf ball, right on an embankment behind the hole.
I swung backwards, lining up my vision in the process, and after the shortest of pauses, I thwacked the ball as hard as I could. It broke free from the tee. I followed the ball in the air as it sped towards the intended destination, only to see it fall short by at least a yard, and landing in a patch of grass on the outskirts of the sand pit.
I shook my head, but I wasn’t angry. I was never angry when spending time with my little brother, Jessie. Besides, it was good that I didn’t land the ball in anywhere close to a hole in one, because that meant Jessie had an actual shot at beating me.
His spirit was in the dumps and I had no idea why, so as I switched him positions and he carefully placed his ball on the tee, I decided to inquire within.
“What’s wrong, little buddy?” I questioned as he took a step back from the tee.
He craned his head over his shoulder as he fetched a club from the caddy. “Why do you ask that?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged and watched as he took his rightful place behind the tee. “You just seem upset about something.”
“Nah.” He adjusted his shoulders as he lined up his swing. “You’re just reading too much into it.”
“Right.” I nodded and bit into my lip contemplatively. He was an astute young man, and far more intelligent than any of his other siblings growing up—including myself. At only thirteen, he was still consumed with teenage problems that probably felt a lot like grown up problems. If at all possible, I wanted to keep him as far away from grown up problems as possible. I wanted to keep him safe from the true troubles of this world, and hey, that might have made me a softy, but when it came to my little brother, I was. “Here’s what I’m going to say. I know something is bothering you, and I know you don’t want to talk about it.”
“You’re right,” he groaned and shook his head, trying to focus his attention on his swing, but I could tell it was difficult. I was too much of a distraction. “So please drop it.”
“I could.” I shrugged. “Or I could offer you your choice of a bottle of vodka or a hundred dollars if you should decide to tell me what exactly is on your mind.”
“Really?” He pivoted on his foot and packed his club over his shoulder. “You’d do that.”
“Sure.” I shrugged again. “Why the hell not? I mean, as long as you don’t tell Dad or anyone else.”
“Fine.” He shook his head. “It’s really stupid.”
“I’m sure it’s not.”
“I mean… I’m really stupid.”
“That right there is a stupid thing to say.” I cocked my head at him. “You’re practically at the top of your class.”
“I used to be.” He dropped his club to the ground and let out an exasperated sigh. “Please don’t tell Dad.”
“You know I’m not going to do that.” I took a few steps towards him until I could lay a hand on each of his shoulders for support. “Now tell me what’s going on so I know whose ass I need to kick.”
He rolled his eyes and chuckled nervously. “It’s my ass you’re going to want to be kicking.”
“You’re right,” I said and scratched impatiently at my nose. “But only because it’s hot out here and you’re driving me crazy with all the posturing.”
“I… uhm…” He cocked his head at me. “I don’t know what that means.”
“It
means you need to hurry the hell up and get to the point before Dad gets back and roasts both of our asses for still not swinging on this damn hole.”
“I’m failing chemistry,” he blurted out like the guiltiest of juvenile criminals.
“Seriously?” I arched one brow. “That’s what you’re so down for? I figured you knocked up some chick or something.”
“Gross.”
“I guess it’s a good thing that you’re so worried about school. It means you have your head screwed on straight.”
“Obviously not.” He rolled his eyes and tapped one foot nervously against the turf. “I’m terrified of telling Dad.”
I understood that, but not for the typical reasons. For starters, Dad was pretty laid back in general and probably couldn’t care less about grades, not when compared to the end result. I don’t think he would have cared if we actually did drop out of high school as long as we became successful. No, the reason I understood him was because the last thing I ever wanted to do was to disappoint my father. I think that’s a fear almost all children have. We always want our parents to be proud of us.
“You need to relax,” I said and wetted my lips for my upcoming spiel. “If you’re failing chemistry, then you just need to work harder. If you’re—”
“I am,” he scoffed, interrupting me in the process.
“Please don’t interrupt me,” I said with a stern voice. I tried my hardest to always talk to him in a calm voice, but this was one of the times I actually had useful advice for him and he needed to hear it. “If you feel like you’re powerless to change your situation, then get some help from tutors. It’s still early in the semester, and with enough hard work and extra credit, there’s no reason you need to lose your ranking in your class.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” he huffed and crossed his arms over each other. “You don’t have to go to school.”
