by Stella Rhys
Standing in the middle of the giant room, I held my phone in both hands, reading and re-reading my text till I saw the three dots to indicate that he was typing.
They blinked for less than two seconds before his equally straight-forward text came through.
IAIN: I sent an assistant to buy you a new one. You can pick it up at reception.
I stared for a moment.
Then I felt a fresh wave of heat flood my face and my ears, because I hadn’t intended for Iain to buy me a new MetroCard, and there was something vaguely mortifying about the second line of his text. It was like a stern reiteration that he would not be seeing me again.
But once I got over how very embarrassed I was, I breathed in deep through my nose and reminded myself that I had bought that thing with hard-earned cash. I had every right to get my stupid MetroCard, so slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I marched out the door with a mantra.
Get in, get out.
And then get on with your life.
13
IAIN
“Uh-oh.”
I stilled at my desk when I heard Erica laughing quietly outside my office with a colleague.
“Watch Sterling find a reason to be at reception in three, two....”
She was talking about Josh Sterling, a senior agent with a knack for manifesting at reception anytime an attractive girl showed up. It happened often, considering the agency represented talent in both sports and entertainment.
Which means it might not be who you think it is right now, and you should keep the fuck working, I told myself.
So I did.
But as I did, I indulged in thinking about her.
Holland. About the memory of how fucking sexy she was last night. Sucking my dick. Flashing her ass and pussy for me as she crawled on all fours. She had no idea what the hell she did to me. How many images I already had of her forever burned into my mind. I’d been ready to take her again after coming inside her last night, and the only reason I didn’t was because I knew it would be painful for her.
I hadn’t exactly gone easy on her.
The plan had been to hold back a fair amount. To exercise restraint with her. But that plan was put at risk when she started rubbing my dick, and it had gone straight to hell the second she asked so sweetly if she could suck on it.
For fuck’s sake, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been that turned on. Driven that crazy by a woman.
And it didn’t help that her pussy was unlike anything I’d ever felt in my life.
She was so perfectly snug and wet around me. Like she was made for me. Within two strokes I was convinced that no other cock but mine should ever be inside her. No tongue but mine should ever taste her skin, and no eyes but mine should ever watch those perfect tits shake as she came.
In short, I didn’t just get drunk off Holland Maxwell last night—I’d gotten completely fucking wasted, and I already wanted more, but considering how hard she made my blood rush, how thoroughly satisfied she’d made me feel, I couldn’t let myself near her again. I had to grit my teeth and just cut myself off.
Unfortunately, my secretary was determined to make that very goddamned hard for me.
“Poor girl,” Erica snorted. “They’re like vultures.”
They?
Who the fuck else was over there now?
I wondered for a half-second before catching myself.
Leave it.
If I was serious about never seeing Holland again, I wouldn’t have my attention trained on the mindless chatter outside my door. It was everything I normally despised hearing in my office, and if I were in my right mind right now, I wouldn’t give half a shit. I wouldn’t be eavesdropping on my secretary, trying to gauge what the scene at reception looked like right now.
Whether she’s there or not has nothing to do with you, I told myself.
Over and over till I hissed a harsh fuck under my breath and got up from my desk.
HOLLAND
“The Mercier Group. Nice. And what do you do there?” asked the one who introduced himself as Josh.
I fidgeted, my fingers playing with the corner of the envelope that held my new MetroCard. But despite the anxious habit, I kept on my polite smile, in the middle of answering their question about where I worked when the blond one’s gaze flickered to look behind me.
Suddenly, his eyebrows ascended and he swiftly walked away, leaving me with just Josh.
“Uh—” Josh blurted, making an abrupt transition from smooth and swaggering to stiff and awkward. Okay, what the heck is going on? He was looking behind me now too, and since I could hear neat, increasingly loud footsteps coming from that direction, I glanced over my shoulder.
And when my eyes landed on a stern Iain striding toward me in a navy suit and tie, I froze.
“Got your MetroCard? I’ll walk you out.”
He didn’t break his stride or wait for me to answer his question before guiding me away from reception with his hand splayed on my lower back.
My mouth opened and closed a few times without making any words, and my eyes were wide, looking toward the elevators as I remembered that we were on the forty-second floor.
“Wait… we’re not taking the—?”
“No.”
Instead, he pushed through a door and took me down a stairwell with pristinely white walls and black stairs. He had me walk a step ahead of him as we went down a couple flights, and by the second one, I started looking up into the corners of the ceilings, spotting the cameras and wondering if any security people were watching us right now, wondering like me what the heck Iain was doing.
But by the fourth flight down, I found myself staring at a corner with no camera at all. And right on cue, Iain gave his velvet command.
“Stop here.”
Two words and he sent instant chills radiating over my skin. All over my body. But I willed my heart rate to stay down as I turned to look up at Iain in that sharp blue suit.
God.
To have to work for this man.
I felt bad for any woman—no, any human in there who was tasked to concentrate on a job when they knew they had to answer to Iain. Aside from the fact that he was impossible not to stare at, the way he looked at you was just so arresting. Those green eyes were never anything but shrewd and discerning. Like they were diving into your soul in search of their own answers. It was probably why Iain didn’t have to ask many questions or chat as much as anyone else. Most of the time, he’d already assessed what he needed to know.
But it seemed right now wasn’t one of those times.
Now that we were alone, I could feel something different in Iain’s eyes as he gazed down at me. Something a little softer. His dark brows were pulled into the slightest but most handsome frown in he world, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low.
“Are you sore?” he asked.
I wet my lips, for some reason surprised by the question.
“A little,” I answered.
Well, a lot. But I wasn’t going to tell him that. It was better than it was first thing this morning. And besides, he already knew I was lying. His deep gaze on me remained, and it was silent for three or four seconds before my curiosity out-wrestled my patience.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked, my voice bouncing off the walls of the confined space.
His expression remained impassive as he replied. “Rubbing away your soreness.”
Oh.
Thump.
He spoke softly, casually, yet it made my heart pound and the muscles between my thighs clench as I thought about the mere idea of him actually doing that. Is he going to do that?
“Why did you decide to walk me out?” I asked suddenly.
He didn’t answer right away. Of course. He never did. Instead, he trailed his eyes up from my calves to my thighs till they were skimming the hem of my dress.
“I had a question to ask you,” he finally said.
“What?” I breathed, realizing I was already praying for
him to ask me what I was doing tonight. If he could see me again.
But he didn’t.
“You’d never had a cock in your mouth till last night,” Iain said. I blinked.
“Is that… that’s the question?” I asked.
He smirked.
“Have you ever had a tongue in your pussy?” he asked.
The question prompted a knot to jump in my throat, and I took a few moments to gather myself before giving my very simple and honest answer.
“No.”
It was quiet for a bit.
“In that case, I have a follow-up request.”
I swallowed hard. “What?”
Something wicked glimmered in Iain’s eyes as he held his stare for a moment. Then he gave a single upward nod.
“Turn around for me.”
I stared at him for a second then looked over my shoulder. Right behind me was the column that connected the handrails. When I turned back at Iain, I understood that he didn’t want me just to turn around. He wanted me to hold onto that column.
An irresistibly crooked smile touched the corner of his mouth as he watched the realization come over me. I couldn’t even help but return the look despite the butterflies dancing in my stomach.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.
“I think you know,” he answered.
And he was right about that. Rather, I had a very strong suspicion. One that struck genuine fear in my heart.
And yet I still obliged.
Turning around, I stepped forward till the tips of my sneakers were touching the bottom of the column. Then I folded my arms around the top, my breath shaking in my throat as I hugged my chest to it, letting the cold of the metal permeate my cotton dress and spread goosebumps all over my skin.
Staring ahead, I felt all my senses perk up. Chills followed each of Iain’s footsteps toward me. One then two before he was behind me, the heat of his chest against my back. My eyes fell shut when his fingers grazed the skirt of my dress, and my knees locked tight, my thighs flexing hard as I felt him pulling it up past my hips.
The butterflies in my stomach multiplied as he lifted my dress up to my waist, fully exposing my behind in the middle of this random corporate stairwell. But through my nervousness, I managed a smile.
“You know I never even wore shirts that showed cleavage till like, a month ago. And now you have me flashing my pussy in public all the time.”
Iain gave a low laugh as he pulled my panties down to my thighs.
“But only for me,” he said as he sank to a kneel behind me.
My eyes went wide and I nodded, trying to confirm with the words yes, only for you. But only the first few sounds came out as Iain smoothed his hands firmly up my thighs till he was rubbing them over my ass, the motion lightly parting my folds.
“Oh God, Iain…”
I blushed from head to toe, having never felt this vulnerable or keenly aware of my pussy. Cold air hit me there, but Iain warmed me back with his breath, alerting me to just how close his mouth was to my most sensitive parts.
And suddenly, I was dying with anticipation, angling my body for him, bending over without him even asking, which drew a little chuckle from him as he dug his thumbs into my bottom and squeezed just enough to expose me further. I heard his low rumble as he took me in.
“Such a fucking perfect pussy,” he muttered. “So fucking wet and pretty for me.”
The praise made me blush from head to toe. Toes curled in my sneakers, I white-knuckled the pillar, certain I couldn’t wait any longer. My breaths were suddenly so short and shallow I could barely talk.
“Aren’t you… going to…?”
“What?” Iain asked.
I swallowed at his crisp tone. Put your tongue inside? Oh God. That sounded awful. “Kiss it?” I breathed out, unsure if that sounded much better.
Iain gave the sexiest laugh as he rubbed his palm over my ass.
“You want me to kiss your pussy, Holland?” he asked tauntingly.
My jaw clenched.
“Yes.” You bastard. “I do.”
I enunciated the response so impatiently that Iain promptly slowed the stroking motion of his palm on my ass to a stop. Without saying a word, I could feel him cautioning me, and for a second, I was convinced he was going to spank me. My every muscle tensed as I steeled myself for the blow.
But instead, he pulled my legs wider apart, till my panties were digging into my thighs. Then he smoothed his hands back up to my ass, grabbing it firmly and spreading me wide apart before burying his mouth in my pussy.
My knees gave out at the first hot lick of his tongue, and I had to let out a moan as Iain held me back up with two rough handfuls of my ass.
“Oh God, omigod…” I whispered frantically, pressing my palm against my own mouth to forcibly shut myself up as Iain speared his skilled tongue inside me, pulsing in and out of me over and over till I was ready to scream his name loud enough for his whole office to hear.
I had no idea this sensation existed. It was the warmest, wettest thing I’d ever felt in my life—especially now that he was using the whole flat of his tongue, molding it to the contour of my pussy and lapping greedily at me. Like he couldn’t get enough of me. As he eased out all my wetness, he let his low groans vibrate in a pleasurable hum against my lips, giving me no time to feel even a little self-conscious, because according to the sounds he was making, I was fucking delicious and he was insatiable. It was so hot I didn’t even realize I’d started touching myself till Iain rumbled with approval.
“Good girl,” he murmured between licks. “Play with your clit.”
He spread me even wider as he continued devouring me from behind, murmuring to me every so often as I stroked furiously between my legs.
“Iain…”
Eyes closed, I tipped my head back, still hugging the column with one arm and curling my fingers against my bottom lip, on call to clasp over my mouth in case I moaned really loud, because I was pretty sure I was going to soon. Without even realizing it, I’d gotten on my tippy-toes. My legs were flexed taut and I could feel the most delicious heat spreading through my lower body as Iain switched between lapping at my pussy and tunneling inside it.
“Oh God, I’m going to come,” I said all in one breath as my head started drifting off to that delirious place.
“Let me taste it,” Iain rasped.
As usual, I obliged his command.
With my right arm, I both hugged the column and clamped my palm over my mouth, muffling my sharp moan as my orgasm slammed into me. My chest hurt from pitching forward into the column, but I didn’t even care because Iain was still kneeling calmly behind my shaking body, coaxing every drop of my arousal onto his tongue.
And for the first time ever, I felt irresistible.
Sexy.
Like a fully-experienced woman.
In fact, I was convinced it should be a rite of passage for every woman to have this moment with a beautiful, suited man in the stairwell of a shiny Manhattan high-rise. It was probably my post-orgasmic haze talking, but still. I was sure of it.
“Iain…” I somewhat whined as he returned to his feet. I could feel him over my shoulder as he pulled my panties back up and then my skirt back down—calm and easy despite the hint of ire in his voice when he spoke.
“You have no idea how hard it is for me not to fuck you right now.”
When I turned around, my breath promptly hitched in my throat, because I found Iain’s eyes smoldering into mine with a look of pure unfiltered desire. It stole the air from my lungs and made my knees threaten to buckle all over again. I instinctively reached for his belt, but before I could touch him, he caught me, collecting my hands and placing them behind my back.
Holding them there, he looked down at me, his gaze softening as he finally asked me what I’d been waiting for since we stepped foot in the stairwell.
“What are you doing tonight?”
14
IAIN
For the past five years, the Victorian Hotel had been a staple of mine for conducting business.
I held late-night meetings here, threw parties here. Entertained clients at the ever-trendy rooftop bar. I reserved rooms for athletes and colleagues, and whenever I did, I called personally to ensure that this “very good friend of mine” would be fully taken care of by the staff and made to feel like a fucking billionaire. Anytime I stepped foot in this building, it was entirely to do with work.
Yet for the second night in a row, I was here solely for my own debauchery.
And judging by the bedroom eyes and flirty lilting, the women at the front desk were keenly aware of that.
“Good to see you here for a second night, Mr. Thorn.”
“Finally found some time to play as hard as you work?” purred Blair, the brunette at the front desk with whom I generally spoke to secure reservations. I offered something of a smile as I took the room key from her hand.
“Just a little,” I replied before stepping around the corner to take a call from Drew.
And for the next two-and-a-half minutes, I let him rant about everything from pre-school applications and how surprisingly early you had to start to electronic sign-stealing in baseball and how I should drop any client who’d ever done that against him.
By the three-minute mark, I’d detected the lack of an actual emergency in the call, so I drifted back to the lobby, my eye immediately catching on a glimmer of blonde by the bar.
Holland.
She was leaning over a menu stand to read the menu, and I felt the corners of my lips curve up in a smile as I took a moment to simply look at her.
Her hair was neatly wound at the top of her head, save for two pieces that fell down to frame her face, and she was wearing a pale blue sundress—tight on the top with a flared skirt and thin straps that tied in bows at her tanned shoulders.
She looked so mesmerizing that I had Drew fully tuned out till he asked, “Are you even listening to me?”
