by W Winters
Braelynn: Say something! Please!
Scarlet: I’m just a little shocked. What are you thinking? Feeling? Tell me everything! Was it good?
Braelynn: Your last question has me cracking up. YES! It was good. It was also shocking for me.
Scarlet: So you kissed him and you liked it … did he mention anything after?
Braelynn: Not after. Before he said if I didn’t want to do it, I should walk away. But … I really wanted to kiss him.
Scarlet: So he didn’t say ANYTHING after?? He had to say SOMETHING
Braelynn: Nothing … I went back to work and waited for him to come back up and he didn’t, so I just … I left.
Scarlet: I’m just going to say it. I heard he is freaky like BDSM freaky. AND I KNOW - you are curious. I KNOW YOU ARE!
That was last night after everything happened. And now she’s texting me congrats on a new position? Like, it doesn’t have anything to do with the kiss …
That makes the timing of this text feel off to me. It hasn’t been two minutes since I got the text myself. Everything feels uneasy. She wasn’t honest about the dress colors, and waited far too long to tell me about the rooms downstairs.
I’m so tempted to tell her I’m going to resign. But I know she’ll push me to stay. Maybe I’m just looking too much into it.
Declan Cross scares me, but I am curious. I want him. I’m attracted to him, but that doesn’t make him or the idea of being with him any less intimidating. And she damn well knows that.
Turning the phone back over, I smile at my mom.
“We’re here to have a good lunch,” I tell her with an upbeat tone. Not to get a million texts and make potentially life-changing decisions before the food has even arrived.
“You can message her back, you know, nena.”
I sure can, but knowing Scarlet it will turn into more questioning and more pushing. She’s been a good friend to me, but I don’t need a long conversation right now or any pressure.
“I just want to have lunch with you. Forget the texts.” I wave my hands over the table like I can brush all this away. “What’s going on with you?”
My mother purses her lips, and I can tell she’s trying to decide if she wants to tell me something. But she’ll give in. She always does. “Your uncle’s not feeling well.”
“No?” I know Uncle Gael has had problems with his hip recently, but I haven’t heard anything about that in weeks.
“And …” This is the part she was hesitating to tell me before. “Travis went to go see him. I don’t like that he does that.”
“I don’t either.” Ice spreads through my veins. Visiting my family crosses a line, and Travis doesn’t care. He’s never given a damn about boundaries. With a steadying breath, I try not to let my anger ruin lunch.
My gaze lifts to the waitress, who’s seating another table. As I lift the cider to my lips, I debate asking her to spike it on the next refill.
“Uncle Gael told him he needs to leave you alone and stay away.”
As I’m nodding, the food is served.
The two plates are delivered by a different server, a smiling waitress with her dark hair in a ponytail that swings around.
“Thanks,” our waitress murmurs to the first and comes up behind her with a side plate of salad for Mama. It’s an easy lunch of our favorites. Nearly every time we come here my mother gets the chicken wrap and salad, and I get the same as well. Today I felt like ordering something different, though. Looking down at my monte cristo, my mouth waters.
With another tea ordered for my mother and a round of “enjoy,” we’re left alone again. This time at least there are salty fries that can join my salty attitude toward Travis. I chomp down on one and notice my mother’s demeanor. This past year has been hard on her. It’s starting to show.
“What’s done is done, Mama. Can we talk about something else? Something easy.” Smoothing the napkin in my lap, I try not to feel guilty for adding stress to my mother’s life.
She unwraps her fork and puts her napkin in her lap. “Something easy,” she repeats, thinking. “How is your new job?”
My face flushes. I can’t think of my job without thinking of Declan. I think of him constantly. Retreating behind my cider, I give myself a moment before responding.
I think of the heat in his eyes while that demonstration was happening on Thursday night. He wouldn’t answer me when I asked him if that was what he liked—the whips and the ropes. Pain and pleasure. He didn’t have to answer for me to see the truth. I was honest with him too. I don’t know if I would want things to be so … public. It seems dirty to even imagine, but I can’t help it. I have imagined it.
That’s what makes the kiss so complicated. It’s not just a kiss, it’s an invitation. I have some idea of what might have happened if I’d followed him last night, and not retreated back upstairs. He’s not a man with vanilla tastes. You need to stop before something bad happens to you, Braelynn.
Bad as in … getting whipped? Bad as in getting hurt? Plenty of bad things have happened to me in my life, but the women on that stage didn’t seem to think it was bad.
And if I know anything about Declan’s club, it’s that they gave consent. No one goes down to the lower floor if they don’t want to. No one would be up on that stage if they didn’t want to be there.
Or maybe he just meant that if I kept tempting him, I’d end up with him.
My glass clunks as I set it down on the iron a little too hard. “It’s going well. I barely ever have a chance to sit, it’s so busy.”
“I’d like to come visit you at work,” my mom mentions.
That stops my imagination in its tracks. “Oh, I don’t know, Mama.”
“What?” She laughs, her eyes lighting up. “I thought you were a waitress. You can help me find something on the menu to order, right?”
“It’s a nightclub.” I lift a brow and shrug, hoping she’ll understand. “My dresses are a little short.”
And depending on when my mother came to visit … I don’t want to have to explain why some of the women are wearing red, and for what. She’s observant. She’d notice.
She reaches for my hand and pats it. “Well, you know I don’t judge. If it makes you happy, then I’ll support you.” Her little smirk tells me she knows more than I think she knows.
I head off whatever she’s thinking and say, “It’s not for better tips.”
“I’ve been around the block a time or two, you know.”
“Mama,” I say with a gasp and a smile lights up my face. As she chuckles, I join her.
“You do what you have to do. A little skin, a little flirting for a better tip. I get it.” She talks as she eats her salad. “You know your grandmother was a waitress all her life.”
“I didn’t know that.”
My mother nods and says, “She got me my first job as a waitress in the cafe.”
As my mother tells me stories I’ve never heard about my abuela, my mind drifts.
It goes straight back to Declan.
How his lips tasted. How his body felt against mine. The rumble of his voice when he whispered at the shell of my ear.
He’s not a boy anymore, and I felt a certain amount of fear at being downstairs with him. And … I wanted it. I know how risky it is to be involved with any of the Cross brothers. They’re dangerous men and powerful here in the city. I would never want to go up against them, never want to give them a reason to think negatively of me. What I want is deeper than that, I think. The memory of Declan kissing me is enough to send heat rushing to my cheeks and warmth all through me.
I haven’t felt like this since I can remember.
Declan
Scrolling through my phone, I click over to the messages from this morning.
Declan: I’m delighted to hear you didn’t resign.
Braelynn: Declan?
Declan: Yes. Come to my office when you get here.
* * *
My thumb taps impatiently on the edge of
my phone. Last night sealed her fate. I’ll be keeping her close. As close as she’d like to get. If that’s her intention, to spy on me for Scarlet, or to dig around, there’s only one way to know.
My gaze moves to the time. 1:01. Just as irritation grows from the fact that she’s already late, there’s a knock on the office door. It’s firm, and comes in a quick set of three.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Come in,” I answer, my body tightening. Everything feels tense and every muscle coiled.
The way I’m going to play with this woman, to tease her and use her … I barely fucking slept last night. My cock’s already hard as the door opens and her small frame is shown.
Her ruched black dress hugs her curves and the hem climbs up her thighs with each step, proving she pulled it down before entering. The V-neck isn’t deep, but her small breasts still manage to steal the show.
As my gaze roams up her body, I note the shade of red on her lips and how her hair lays perfectly across her shoulders in relaxed curves. She’s like a doll, a pretty little thing to play with.
A gorgeous woman to fuck into my ravaged rag doll.
Pushing my chair out a foot, I lean back in my chair and tell her to close the door.
“Declan.” My name comes out in a single breath and there’s obvious hesitancy.
Fuck.
“Yes?” I question as heat engulfs my body.
Her fingers nervously grip one another as she takes a step and then another toward me, but doesn’t stride to the desk. Instead she stands awkwardly in the middle of the office.
I’d feel like a prick for doing this to her, if I wasn’t questioning whether or not she’s conspiring against me with Scarlet.
And if I didn’t think she’d love what I’m about to do to her. Informant or not, she can’t hide that she’s attracted to me. Every little dirty thought is written on her face.
Licking her bottom lip, she takes another step closer.
I grip the armrest to keep me still as she talks.
“I need to know what this is. What exactly is a personal assistant for you?”
The corners of my lips lift into an asymmetric smile. “I need someone to balance the books,” I tell her easily enough and the moment her shoulders lower with relief I add, “and I’d like to fuck you. Thoroughly.”
A touch of shock hits her gorgeous dark brown eyes and her lips part with a quick intake of breath. My cock aches that much more. “I’d like to play with you and play with whatever this tension is between us.”
“Oh,” she answers, blinking once and seeming to take it all in with a sharp rise of her shoulders.
“I want you to be my secretary.” I take in a steadying breath and then lean forward, my elbows on my knees. “And my fuck toy.”
“I see,” she whispers, her gaze caught in mine. Turmoil and intrigue war with each other.
“Does that suit you?” I anticipate her hesitating, her wanting time to think perhaps.
Every nerve ending in my body is delighted from her murmured and immediate response. “Yes.”
As I lean back in my chair, I decide finances can wait until tomorrow. “Strip.”
“Am I—” she starts to question and her eyes flicker with every thought that passes by.
My answering command lacks patience. “Now.”
There’s a thud in my chest and then another as the seconds pass and Braelynn seems paralyzed where she stands.
It’s obvious that she’s intimidated, hesitant, possibly scared, but with a heavy breath that drops her chest, forcing my gaze there, she does as she’s told.
She may seem afraid, but this deep primal need that forces me to flex my hands as I stay as still as can be fucking terrifies me. I want her more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time. Maybe ever. With her lips parted, her breaths are slow and steady as the sleeve is stripped from her arm.
“Slowly,” I murmur before clearing my throat and readjusting in the chair. Her dark eyes are wide as she stares back at me, one sleeve hanging off the dress, the other nearly removed as well. “I want you to take your time.”
She nods although to be fair, there isn’t much for her to remove.
“My heels?” She finally speaks and her comment is meant to be teasing and sultry. I’ll be damned if she didn’t hit her mark as the light kisses her bare skin and the dress is pushed to the floor as she shimmies it off.
“Keep them on.”
Leaving her wearing nothing but a simple lace thong and matching bra.
“Have I already scandalized you?” I question and her eyes pierce through me, holding me in place as she reaches behind her. With a quick snap, her bra falls to the floor.
Her breasts are small, a handful maybe, and her nipples beg to be licked. They’re soft and I want nothing more than to pluck them, nip them, and suck them until they’re hardened peaks. The sight of her bending to remove the last garment is my undoing. As I stand, she pauses.
With a cock of my brow, she continues. Stripping down bare for me, and stepping out of the lace puddle at her feet with the click of her heels on the hardwood floor.
She’s utterly breathtaking.
Standing at the edge of my desk, I tap it once. Only once and she obeys the unspoken command.
The lights are dim, but provide plenty of illumination to enjoy the sight before me. Her questioning gaze searches mine and I take her hands one at a time, laying them flat on the desk and slide them across it, pushing the papers to the other end, until her hips are pushed against it and her chest is nearly flat against the desktop.
Moving my hands up her arms, I revel in the shiver that runs through her body and how heavy her eyelids seem to go.
Her breathing picks up, heavier and louder as I trail down her back and then lower, crouching beside her and only stopping to take a handful of her ass and squeeze before laying a heavy slap against her heated skin. Her gasp fuels me as her heels teeter and then she corrects herself.
“Good girl,” I murmur against her skin.
She’s thicker at her ass and thighs and I lean forward with an openmouthed kiss, noting how her thighs tighten. My hand drifts up the back of her thighs until my fingers slip against her slit. Biting down gently, I listen for her moans, which she gives me easily.
Even her cunt responds, clenching around nothing, although I feel it against my fingers.
A satisfied groan leaves me as I stand, not fully though—I stay bent to spread her pussy lips and give her a languid lick, tasting her sweet arousal. In my periphery, I see her watching and I make sure my desire and contentment are evident as I lick my lips and go in for another taste.
With a quiet mewl she struggles to stay still and my right hand comes down hard on her ass as I command her, “Stay still.”
Fuck, the way she groans after that short, feminine yelp. Staring down at her, I toy with her pussy, rubbing circles around her clit before running my fingers back up.
She’s gorgeous, with her already slightly disheveled hair, and her lips parted in a perfect O.
“Already wet for me,” I comment before unzipping my pants. The sound fills the room and the only other thing I can hear is her swallow.
Gripping the base of my cock, I pull myself out completely. Walking around to the front of my desk, I grip the hair at the nape of her neck, pull her back and position myself so she can suck. Which she doesn’t do at first.
Instead she licks the bead of precum at my slit, and my toes curl before she wraps those gorgeous red lips around my cock.
She’s careful about it, no doubt concerned her lipstick will be smeared.
If I wasn’t in heaven from the pleasure she gives me, I’d smirk. That lipstick isn’t going to last. As it is, she glides her tongue down my length and then takes me into her hot mouth.
My fist tightens as I watch her suck me down, her cheeks hollowing. Although I have a grip on her, she does it all herself, taking her time and tasting me.
“Enjoying yourself?” I questi
on and then hold her in place, my cock firmly pressed against the back of her throat. She nearly sputters, swallowing me down even more. Her eyes glisten as she attempts to give an answering hum.
Fucking gorgeous.
“Good,” I comment before thrusting deeper and then throat fucking her. Each stroke is deep and paired with a brutal pace. Her lips wrap around tighter and her hands come up but she’s quick to put them back down.
When I pull out, her eyes watering as my signal, she takes in a heavy breath before I shove myself back in. With my left hand in her hair, I move my other to her throat and squeeze just slightly. Pushing my cock down deeper, I can feel my head in her throat and when she swallows, fuck, when she swallows—My spine tingles as my balls draw up and I have to stop myself.
I pull myself from her completely, satisfied from her heaving breaths and her mascara smudged around her eyes.
Knock, knock.
I’ve never felt such irrational anger. I’m the one who set this up and yet, it’s fucking infuriating. Tucking myself back in, I’m quick to lay the skimpy dress over her backside, which doesn’t cover much. “Don’t you dare fucking move.”
I wait for Braelynn to look at me before asking, “Did you hear me?” The deep flush in her cheeks deepens as she realizes we’re about to have company. Her hesitant protest is quickly dissolved as I bend over her, kissing her shoulder and placing my hand on the back of her neck. I whisper, “I think you will enjoy this. Be a good girl for me.”
With wide eyes and a short nod, she does what she’s told. It’s fucking addictive, the control she gives me. I crave more of it. All of it.
“Come in,” I call out and Nate strides in.
“Boss—” His words falter, just as his steps when his gaze shifts from me to the gorgeous woman sprawled out on my desk.
With a head tilt, he waits.
“What is it?” I ask him as if there’s nothing to be seen and take a seat.
Braelynn
* * *
The air is cool against my bare skin. The desk is cooler. I still feel like I’m on fire.
