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  Boss Me

  Tris Blake

  Copyright

  2018 by Tris Blake

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, copied, scanned or transmitted in any form, by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without written permission from the author.

  Boss – an authority figure that employs workers

  I stood in the hallway at the luxurious Duchess Hotel wearing red stilettos, an overcoat, and nothing beneath as the text had instructed. My nerves hummed, and my heart hammered. I lifted my hand to knock, but before my knuckles made contact, the door flung open.

  He glanced up and down my body. A seductive smile curled his kissable lips before he grabbed my hand and yanked me inside. He trapped me against the now closed door. His arms boxed me in.

  My palms flattened against the wood as he pressed his muscular body to mine. He still had on the dress shirt and slacks he’d worn to the office today. He’d come straight from work.

  “Did you follow my instructions?” he asked, nuzzling my neck.

  “Yessir,” I gasped. He smelled incredible.

  He stepped back. “Let me see. Drop the coat.”

  My breath shuddered. I untied the belt and shrugged out of the garment. It pooled around my feet.

  He growled, “Good girl,” before he bent to take a nipple into his warm mouth. My fingers filtered through his too long-to-be-an-executive hair. He offered the other breast the same treatment.

  The sensation he created raced down my trunk to settle in my core, weeping. He scooped me up and carried me to the bed where he lay me down. He stood by, still fully clothed.

  “You’re mine now. You’ll do as I say, won’t you, Emma?”

  “Yessir.”

  He flashed me a wicked smile. “Lean against the headboard. Spread those legs wide for me, baby.”

  I did as instructed.

  “Watch.”

  With his fingers, he explored, rubbed, dipped inside just an inch to make me cry out. “Please, quit teasing. Let me have it.”

  “I’m the one giving orders, Emma.”

  “Please, Sir, I need more. Give it to me.” Give it to me, he did. Again, I couldn’t look away as he fingered me. “Ohmygod,” I moaned. “I’m about to come.” He withdrew his touch which forced a groan from me.

  “Not yet.” He stood and licked my juices from his fingers. “Delicious.”

  I couldn’t stop the moan, didn’t want to, and couldn’t stop my fingers from rubbing my pleasure button as I watched him.

  “Stop touching yourself.”

  “Why,” I whined. “I need it.”

  “Your orgasms are mine. You’ll wait or be punished.”

  “Maybe I want to be punished.”

  His eyes flared. “Last warning,” he growled. He removed his belt to fold in half, snapping it in threat.

  I stopped my movement with the sound. My hand fell to my side.

  “Good girl.” He dropped the leather and began the slow task of unbuttoning his shirt. “Taste yourself.”

  I heaved as I lifted my hand to my mouth and savored my taste as I watched him undress. I couldn’t look away when his shirt fell to the floor revealing an eight pack, hard pecs, and huge biceps. I’d seen him in the company gym in nothing but jogging shorts, but I didn’t allow myself to gawk while at work. Now?

  Now I had him all to myself. And his slow strip-tease only caused more of my juices to drip from me to be absorbed by the duvet beneath my bare ass.

  “There’s going to be a huge wet spot under me,” I warned.

  He grinned, thumbed the button open on his pants, and leisurely dragged down the zipper. I couldn’t wait to see his package. I stared at his crotch.

  “Miss Somers?”

  “Take it off,” I groaned.

  “Take what off, Miss Somers?”

  I jerked to the present. My eyes landed on my boss and current fantasy who stared at me, one side of his mouth tight while the other side smirked. How did he manage that? My heart hammered, but for a different reason this time. Everyone in the conference room stared at me. I cleared my throat.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I said, go pick up the coffee order,” Mr. Harper snapped.

  As usual, he’d probably ream me a new one later. I wished I didn’t have such a huge crush on the asshole CEO, who didn’t give me the time of day other than to boss me around.

  I pushed the chair from the table, and murmured, “Yessir.” I knew my cheeks blazed. I’d been caught not paying attention, but the worst part, I think I said, ‘take if off’, out loud. This wouldn’t win me any favors with Mr. Harper, whom no matter what, I couldn’t seem to impress.

  I strode from the room, thankful for the reprieve from their stares. My phone vibrated. I pulled it from my pocket to find a text.

  These messages would ruin me. That’s what had my mind in sexual overdrive lately. Let me explain. A few weeks ago, I received a text from an unknown number, sure it was meant for someone else due to the sexual content, and the fact I wasn’t dating anyone. It said…

  I want your ass hanging off the sofa, and your feet on my chest as I pump my cock into your wet, steaming pussy. I want you to watch me drive in and out of you. I want you begging me to come.

  I’d creamed my panties right then. From a stupid text.

  It had to be a mistake. I didn’t usually warrant that kind of attention. So, I texted back that I thought they’d sent it to the wrong number.

  The source assured me they hadn’t, though they didn’t bother to inform me of their identity either, no matter how much I prodded. Said the anticipation would only make the reveal better.

  I couldn’t deny that. And I couldn’t imagine who the sender might be.

  So, the texts continued.

  Every day we tried to out-sext the previous days’ conversations. Down and dirty, we didn’t bother with personal information. No. This was about sex. And as the conversations got more and more intense, I found myself constantly wet and wanting.

  I even masturbated to our written conversations on a nightly basis. I’d need to purchase stock in a battery company before long to keep my vibrator in service. I glanced around to make sure no one might see, and opened the app.

  I want you on your knees, so I can fuck that pretty mouth of yours. I bet you’d pay attention then.

  My heart stopped. Someone in that meeting must be my mystery texter. A nervous laugh escaped me. I wished it to be my boss, Benjamin Harper.

  I shook my head. No way would a man as handsome, as sexy, and as rich as he, be interested in a plain, small town girl like me.

  I’ve seen the women he usually had on his arm. Even though he starred in my fantasies, I knew better than think he might be into me. I seemed to annoy him more than anything.

  No, Benjamin Harper had no sexual interest in me. He seemed to barely tolerate me at best. In fact, he seemed to enjoy making my life hell.

  That’s okay. He didn’t have to know he starred in my fantasies. A girl needs a few secrets. I shared my fantasies with my sext buddy. I held nothing back from him. I guess I never really expected it to go any further than texting.

  I’d been wrong.

  The fact remained that someone in the meeting had been sexting me. I shoved the phone into my pocket and strode to my desk to retrieve my shoulder bag. I knew I’d be scolded if I didn’t return in good time.

  After I stood in line for te
n minutes to get their special coffee orders, I then had to climb twelve flights of stairs since the elevator died, to deliver said drinks before they went cold, only to be ignored, not one thank you from the bunch.

  Earlier, I’d fetched forgotten laptops, documents or whatever else they couldn’t be bothered to bring to this planned meeting, and still not one ‘thank you.’

  I stewed silently through the rest of the meeting, and when over, I’d been left alone to clean up after the slobs when the next text came through.

  Be at room 2112 at the Duchess Hotel, 7 pm prompt. Clothes optional, orgasms guaranteed.

  My jaw dropped as did my phone. I stared at the device, silent on the floor. My buddy wanted to meet and play out the fantasy I’d shared with him yesterday.

  The very one that got me into trouble earlier today.

  Then the picture popped up of a masculine hand holding a very large, very hard cock. I gasped, glanced all around to make sure no one saw, only to remember I stood alone in the conference room, cleaning up after idiot executives.

  I bit my lip. This man was well endowed, and I hadn’t gotten laid in months.

  Six to be exact.

  My last relationship ended badly. He’d cheated and had the nerve to blame me. Said I was oversexed and intimidated him by asking for what I wanted in the bedroom. Said he didn’t think he could keep me satisfied. I thought we’d had a great sex life.

  I mean, how would he know what I wanted if I didn’t tell him? But then doubt bloomed, and I’d avoided the complications of sex ever since, afraid of another rejection.

  And now my mystery man wanted to meet. I wasn’t sure if I was ready, but wetness seeped into my panties at the thought of taking on that huge snake in the picture.

  What if it turned out to be one of the old stodgy fuckers at work?

  Gross.

  What if they hoped to blackmail me?

  Ugh.

  But how could I not show up?

  Right?

  I had to know who’d been texting me. If it turned out to be one of the older, cruel execs that opened the door, I could bow out as nicely as possible.

  Or pepper spray his ass.

  I couldn’t imagine one of the older men sending texts like I’d been getting anyway. Who knew? They could all be perverts on staff and wanted a gang bang.

  I shuddered.

  Maybe I shouldn’t go.

  And what if I had been receiving texts for another person this whole time? How embarrassing would it be to be kicked to the curb, but I would never know unless I showed up.

  It seemed worth the trouble just to find out. Even if he turned out to be old…well, that cock…I had to see who was attached to that thing for myself. An older, more experienced man might be just the ticket for what I needed in a sexual relationship.

  I managed to drive home and not get caught speeding, which was a feat all alone. I showered and shaved. Everywhere. I even rolled my hair. I searched my closet.

  “What should I wear?”

  He’d said clothes optional. That’s when I decided on the overcoat. It seemed cliché, but worked best to fit the fantasy. Fall had set in and nights began to cool. Paired with red pumps, no one would be the wiser.

  I hoped.

  After applying bedroom eyes and red lipstick, I grabbed my car keys. I turned back at the last minute before the door latched to grab my pepper spray. I dropped it into one of the pockets.

  Just in case.

  Now I stood at the door, frozen to the spot, unable to knock. If I didn’t do this, I would regret it for the rest of my life. Yet my hand remained frozen in mid-air.

  The door opened, and I was pulled inside, negating my hesitation, and fulfilling the fantasy. Strong arms caged me against the door. I stood face to face with…

  “M-Mr. Harper?” I couldn’t believe it. “Ohmygod.”

  “Miss Somers. You’re late. You know I detest tardiness.”

  I blinked.

  His face pressed against my throat. “Do I need to punish you?” His teeth grazed my burning skin. I gasped and tilted my head in offering.

  “W-what are you doing, Mr. Harper? I don’t understand?”

  “What don’t you understand?” he growled.

  He bit my earlobe. It didn’t hurt, but I gasped anyway. It flipped something inside me. My hands lit on his hips and I pulled him closer. I moaned to feel his erection pulse against my stomach.

  “Call me Ben. You’ve been driving me crazy since you were hired, prancing around in your short, little skirts. Even on casual day, those tight ass jeans you wore made me so hard. I can’t concentrate for thinking of what I want to do to this body.” His hands squeezed my waist.

  “Mr. Harper? You’re really the one who’s been texting me?”

  “What do I have to do to get you to call me, Ben? Yes, silly woman, I’m the one who’s been texting you. I knew you were a dirty girl under all that prim and proper façade.”

  “I thought you couldn’t stand me.”

  “I couldn’t stand keeping my hands off you. Tell me you want this, Emma.”

  “Ohmygod,” I chanted. “I need this.”

  He groaned deep and long. One of his hands remained next to my head, flat against the door as his other made quick work of the belt that kept my coat secured.

  I shrugged, and the garment dropped to the floor. I watched, dispassionate, as if it happened to someone else. The material pooled at my feet just like in my fantasy. I stood naked in front of one of the city’s most eligible bachelors.

  “Gorgeous.”

  His hands cupped my bare shoulders, stroked south to find my breasts. I thought I might hyperventilate.

  “Perfect handfuls, Emma.”

  His head dipped to take a nipple into his mouth. He sucked hard and forced a cry from me. My hands cupped his head as I spread my legs further to better support myself for fear I’d fall. He moved to the next breast and offered the same treatment. One hand strolled lower.

  As he bit and sucked at my tits, he watched my face as he dipped first one finger, then two inside me. My head fell forward as I groaned.

  Then he stretched me further, adding another finger. He withdrew his touch to inspect his hand. I knew my cheeks blazed. My own desire covered his fingers and ran down his arm. When he licked them clean, my knees gave out.

  He caught me.

  “Delicious, Emma. I knew you’d taste sweet.”

  His fingers returned to assault my love cave, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit.

  “Ohmygod. That feels so good. I hoped it was you texting me.”

  He smirked. He knew what he did to me.

  “I was sure you were texting a wrong number,” I panted, lifting to my tip-toes as orgasm neared.

  He grunted and withdrew his touch, which forced a groan from me before he knelt, lifting one of my legs over his shoulder.

  “I watched you for months, Emma. You were always texting. I decided to feel you out with an app that let me disguise my cell number. And damn what a dirty girl. I like that. I like it a lot.”

  “Ohmygod,” I keened. I couldn’t help but watch as he devoured me. My hands gipped his hair and held him where I wanted. I bucked against his face.

  He paused long enough to say, “That’s right, baby. Fuck my face.”

  His crass words ignited me. So, I did. I let my head fall back against the door and rode his face until the orgasm crashed over me.

  I went limp, unable to support myself, much less think a coherent thought. I’d never experienced anything like that before. Never been so brazen.

  I heard him chuckle. He held me against the door as my wits returned. I sifted my hands through his hair. His face covered in my juices did something to me.

  I leaned forward, licked his chin, tasting myself. It turned me on. It did him, too, because he moaned, and found my lips with his and devoured my mouth as he’d done my pussy.

  I broke the kiss and lowered to my knees, turning and pushing him against the door
this time. He watched with heated eyes as I unfastened his pants and took him in hand.

  “So big.”

  His manhood jerked and throbbed in my grip. I stroked him up slowly. Pre-cum beaded at the tip. I flicked my tongue over the slit. He groaned.

  “Suck me, Emma.”

  I swirled my tongue around the head of him winning a slew of curses and more encouragement from him. I took the tip into my mouth. His hips thrust forward. I backed off and stroked him as I stared into his eyes.

  “No. It’s my turn.”

  “You little minx,” he groaned.

  The muscles in his legs danced beneath my hands. I took him in my mouth and sank as far as I could manage. I couldn’t swallow his entire length, so I wrapped my fist around him and jacked him off as I sucked.

  “So good,” he sighed.

  His hands cupped my skull. He took control, tilting my head, driving more of himself down my throat. I gagged, creating more lubrication as he thrust, allowing him to go further.

  “Fuck, Emma. That’s it. Take all of me. Damn woman. So good.”

  I struggled, but found if I relaxed my throat, swallowing when the gag reflex set in, I could manage. Saliva dripped from my mouth, ran down my chin, and dripped onto my boobs. My eyes watered, but determined to please him, I didn’t stop.

  “Emma! I’m coming.” He pulled out and shot his load all over my chest and neck.

  “Ohmygod,” I cooed. I rubbed his seed all over me.

  “Damn woman, that is fucking hot.”

  Still hard, he picked me up and carried me to the bed. I sighed as I sank onto the soft duvet. I couldn’t clear the smile from my face. I managed to deep throat him and make him come.

  Now he crawled onto the bed to knee my legs apart to settle between. His mouth descended on mine. I moaned as his lips caressed, teased. He bit at my lower lip, sucked it into his mouth. I wrapped my legs around his waist and thrust at him in demand as our tongues tangled.

  “Greedy girl,” he chuckled.

  “I want you inside me,” I pleaded. “Give me that big cock. Please.”

  “My pleasure.”

  He took himself in hand, gave himself a stroke which forced a whimper from me.