21. Kat
I’m not sure why I’m even thinking of buying lingerie for a guy who doesn’t even return a dirty voicemail.
He’d sent two emails over the weekend, one to both me and Rob, granting me final ad approval, and another that simply said: The reports look great. Thanks for taking care of the meeting on Friday.
Like, really? I tell him I miss his dick and then he decides to go and turn into one?
The hangers made a screeching noise as I pushed them along the racks. I was about to leave, sure I was too crabby for this trip I’d planned pre-dickish-radio-silence, but then I saw it.
Red and lacy, a bustier that had a tiny matching thong with those little strappy things that held up thigh-high hose. Icouldwearthatundermyworkclothes,andthenassoonasJamesonandIareoutoftheoffice…
Giventhathe’stalkedtomebeforethen.Grr.
My phone rang, and I glanced at the display. Shit. I ducked down like my dad would sense through the phone that I was in a lingerie store. The ringing finally stopped, and I picked up the tiny outfit, debating buying it now or using the wait-and-see method.
But I didn’t want to wait and see. I wanted to be bold, and even if I never wore it with Jameson—my gut dropped at that thought—I’d wear it with someone.
Mr. Future Dude, who I could meet now that I was mostly equipped with the verbal tools and confidence I needed to amp up my foreplay game and sex life.
My phone rang again, and I jumped, dropping the flimsy outfit in the process and then scrambling to pick it up. I glanced at the screen. Apparently Dad wasn’t giving up today.
I tucked the lingerie into a compact ball and tucked it under my arm. “Hey, Dad.” “Hey, pumpkin. Just wanted to check in and see how your second week working with JT is going.”
“Oh, great. It’s going great.” “Are you learning a lot?”
Youhavenoidea. “Definitely learning more about being assertive.” Which meant that I was going to assert myself with Jameson, and tell him I was annoyed he didn’t call me back after I left him a sexy message. Did he have any idea what that did to a girl’s floundering self-esteem?
Not to mention my brain went all worst-case scenario and started picturing him out with other women, laughing at my ridiculous attempt at dirty talk.
Too many emotions swirled through me, and I tried to shove them back so I could finish up the conversation with my dad.
“Good, good,” he said. “That’s what I hoped would happen— why I called in the favor. You know I love you, and I really do want you to be the one to run the home branch, but this company has been in our family for generations, so first I need to know you can handle the responsibility, and that you know how to be a good boss. Okay, pumpkin?”
Nothing said I’m-turning-you-into-a-pitbull-type-boss like calling me the same thing he had since I was a kid.
“I’m going to make you proud,” I said, and I meant it.
I hung up the phone and then took the lingerie to the cashier so she could ring it up. Gripping the bag and reminding myself that I was capable of telling people what I wanted—I just needed to have the courage to open my mouth and do it—I stepped out onto the sidewalk and dialed Jameson’s number.
I’d just decided in favor of leaving a scathing voicemail message to let him know exactly how I felt about his ignoring me when his voice carried over the line. “Kat?”
Shit. With one word my insides turned to liquid honey, and thoughts and the ability to form full sentences flew right out of my head. “Hey.”
“Did everything go okay at the office today?”
Of course. He answered because he thought there was a work emergency. “Yes, yes, it’s all running smoothly.”
“No more insubordination, like at Friday’s meeting?”
“No.” I wanted to say so much more than that one little word, something like whythehellaren’tyoutalkingabouttheotherpartofthemessageIsentonFriday?Obviouslyyouheardit. Just when I thought I was doing better at asserting myself.
“Sounds like you’re handling things like a champ. By the way, I forgot to include it in my email, but I give you full permission to fire Rob.”
“Well good, because he also took the last cup of coffee without starting a fresh pot this morning and when you also take into account that it’s Monday, that’s more offensive than backtalk in a meeting.”
Jameson laughed. “Justifiable means for firing, for sure.” A sigh carried over the line. “Man, it’s good to hear your voice.”
“Oh, really? Seems like you would’ve called to talk to me sooner, then.” There it was, out in the open, no holding back. Probably too far on the relationshipy side, too, but I fought the part of me that wanted to hurry and take it back so it wouldn’t end up hurting me.
“Well, I’ve had your voicemail to keep me company, and trust me, I’ve used it.”
I attempted to swallow but found it impossible.
“I’ve gone to call a dozen times, only for some other emergency to come up. We’ve been working non-stop over here to redesign a whole new campaign, and it’s been one phone call or meeting after another.” His voice dropped low, his secretive tone dark and enticing. “But now it’s just you and me, baby. Why don’t we start with what you’re wearing?”
Oh, he was going to have to work harder than that. I lifted my chin even though he couldn’t see me. “The usual type of outfit I wear to the office.”
“Come on. You can do better than that. Just give me some hints and I can fill in the rest of the sexy office-vixen look. Are you wearing a tight top that you’re practically spilling out of?”
I automatically glanced down at my ample cleavage. If I didn’t wear a turtleneck or shapeless frock, there was going to be some spillage. “Well, I have big boobs and they’re not exactly easy to contain.”
“Trust me, I know. It’s one of my favorite things about your boobs. I just wish I was there to suck one into my mouth and flick and bite until you were panting my name.”
I slowed my steps, aware of all the people around me, and even more aware of the way my nipples hardened and strained against the lacy cups of my bra. Heat pooled low in my stomach, and I was a breath away from panting already. I stepped off to the side of the sidewalk and leaned against a building, closing my eyes so I could focus on just the sound of his voice. “I have on my black pencil skirt, and it’s tight enough to need a slit up the side so I can actually walk in it.”
“What I wouldn’t give to be there to run my hand up that slit and slip my fingers into your panties.” His voice grew husky and gruff, and I could feel the ghost of his touch, those slightly callused fingertips dragging up my thigh. “Are you wearing those fuck-me heels, too?”
I shifted my weight. “Five and a half inches of red leather, because I needed a color pop.”
“Naturally,” Jameson said, and I smiled.
“My lips and necklace are the same color.” I glanced over at the shop I’d come out of a minute ago. Part of me thought I should shut this down before I was completely sexually frustrated and people started looking at me and wondering what was wrong. But the other part of me liked the excitement of talking dirty on the phone, not caring that I was technically in public. “They also match the lingerie I just bought.”
His hard swallow carried over the line. “I’m going to need proof.” There was the boss voice, the one that made people hop to.
“I’m afraid you’re in no position to demand such a thing, Mr. Stone.”
His growl set my body ablaze. “Kat. You realize you’re only racking up punishments.”
“I feel like I’m being rather assertive, and if you were here, I assure you, I’d tell you exactly what I want you to do to me.” I worked to keep my words from reflecting my ragged breathing. “But for now, I better let you go. You’ve got all that work, and I’ve got a train to catch.”
He swore and then his sigh carried over the phone, and I worried I’d taken the game too far. “Speaking of work, I’m going to send you the files for the LoneStar account, and I need you to do that target market analysis thing you do. If we can get that hammered out, then I’ll actually be able to fly home, use my hands to find proof myself, and give you more of what your voicemail informed me you missed. Because it missed you, too, and after I’ve used my fingers and tongue to explore every single inch of you, I’ll drive it deep inside of you and have you shuddering around me in no time.” His words were a delicious promise, one I knew he’d deliver on. “Then we’ll do it again and again until neither one of us can move.”
“Bartering with sexual favors? I’m shocked and appalled…”
There was no hiding my breathlessness now. “And rather turned on.”
“You can’t just say those kinds of things. Switch to Facetime and show me your wet pussy. I want to study it so I can decide which part I plan to lick first.”
There went my panties, and the incessant throbbing grew stronger, begging for release. But again, I was going to make him work for it, even if I was also torturing myself in the process. “Are you flying back tomorrow?”
The silence on the other line stretched out a couple of seconds. “I’m going to have to spend at least another day here.”
I clucked my tongue. “I told you that I was going to punish you for every day you were gone, and if I did as you asked, what kind of punishment would that be?”
“Trust me, seeing you and not being able to touch you is about the worst punishment you could give me.”
I stepped into an alcove that wasn’t private enough for an up- the-skirt show but gave me space from the other people walking up and down the sidewalk. “Before you go getting all excited?—”
“Too late,” he said, and I laughed. I was super keyed up, too, and I was glancing out of the mouth of the alley, seeing how hard it’d be for someone to see if I decided to grant his request—not that hard, damn it.
“I’m switching to FaceTime, but only to talk.” Fornow.
I hit the button and, after he accepted the request, his face popped up onscreen. He looked tired, but superhot and disheveled in a way that made me want to run my fingers through his hair and add more dishevelment of my own.
“Damn, you look sexy,” he said.
FaceTime was hardly the most flattering, and I was trying to hold my phone at a better angle, only to find there really wasn’t one. “You’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll send you naughty videos.”
“No, I’m telling the truth. But I also want you to send naughty videos.”
“Then it’s too bad you didn’t call me back on Friday when I was feeling extra naughty. But I’ll show you what I was doing before I called…” I lifted the pink and white bag so it’d fit onscreen. “Here’s your proof that I did, in fact, buy lingerie.”
“That could be anything. Lotion, perfume, pajamas…”
Balancing my phone so I wouldn’t drop it and shatter the screen, I shifted the bag and lifted out a tiny corner, just enough for him to see that it was red, lacy, and very see through. Then I let it drop back in. “You don’t get to see it until you get back.”
He groaned. “You’re a cruel one, Kat Taylor. That’s more than a punishment. It’s cruel and unusual torture.”
“But I bet you’ll think twice about not returning my phone call next time. Now I’m off to catch my train, and you need to get your work done so we can put an end to all this pent-up sexual frustration.”
I blew a kiss at the screen and hung up. Maybe that wasn’t a bold move for most women, but it made me feel bold and in control, and I decided I was going to have lots of fun exploring my dominatrix side.
It’d make it that much sweeter when Jameson returned and decided he needed to show me that he was the one in control.