22. Stan
Chapter twenty-two
Stan
It’s morning, and instead of working, I’m watching Sam. I clutch my cup of coffee in a white-knuckled grip, unable to look anywhere other than her.
She’s cleaning the table, bent over it with her ass pointed in my direction. With every movement of her arm, her ass shakes a little more. The knee-length dress she’s wearing clings to her backside, making me inwardly groan.
Sam makes it so easy to hunger for her. I try to quell my desire for her, but it keeps growing day by day. It’s only a matter of time before I act on it again, leaning down and slamming my lips over Sam’s.
This time, I won’t stop the kiss. I won’t even care if anyone comes in to interrupt us.
The office phone rings, so I finally manage to tear my eyes away from her. I silently curse whoever thought it was a good idea to call at this time.
“Grace?” Sam answers the phone.
Shit. I withdraw the curse from earlier. I don’t want to curse out my own sister .
“Oh, yeah. He’s a great boss.” She nods, taking a good look at me.
A great boss who was just staring at your ass a few moments ago.
“Don’t worry, Grace, he’s behaving himself. Unless you count the fact that he was just staring at my ass while I was cleaning. He thinks I didn’t notice, but I did.”
Fuck.
The jerkface title is starting to feel a little accurate, considering I’m doing something similar to what her former boss did.
“I know, right?” Sam’s glaring at me, and I can hear my sister’s voice but can’t make out what she’s saying. “He thinks he can do whatever he wants just because he’s a little tall and rich. And funny sometimes.”
Funny?
I look away so she doesn’t catch a glimpse of the small smile creeping over my face.
When I glance up, Samantha is listening to Grace again, smiling with her lips slightly apart. She looks… almost sultry.
I flash her a smile, and for once, her cheeks flush from the heat rushing to them. I give myself a satisfied nod, pick up the coffee, and return it to my lips, taking slow sips.
She smiles again as she looks away from me. “I’ll let him know. Bye, Grace.” She hangs up and stares at me, trying not to laugh. “I forgot how fun your sister is.”
“Yeah, she’s bunches of fun,” I say sarcastically. “What did she want, anyway?”
“Grace wanted to let you know that your parents are going to visit in a few days. ”
I feel a chill rush over me.
Ruth. Ruth will be meeting them.
Fuck. I wipe my brow.
“She also says you need to go out on a date,” she adds.
“Thank you for that information, Miss Knight.”
Sam glares at me. “Really? We’re back to Miss Knight?”
I ignore her and boot up my laptop. My fingers start dancing around the keyboard, even though I’m not really typing anything. What I’m doing is trying to seem busy.
“Ignoring me now, are we?”
I maintain my silence, hoping she’ll stop talking.
“You’re so boring,” she pouts.
“Maybe if you’d stop talking…” is all I say.
“When did you ever lose your virginity?”
That does the trick of getting my attention. I’m glaring at her now, and she’s licking her lips in satisfaction.
“None of your business, Samantha,” I warn.
“Why? You know my dating history, teen and adult. I know nothing about yours. So spill it.”
“Employees don’t have the right to snoop around their employer's personal life.”
“Well, this employee does,” she says arrogantly. She moves my laptop to the side and props herself on my table like a cat with a terrible understanding of personal space.
“Why don’t you jump down and stop asking me annoying questions?” I ask .
“No, I want to stay here,” she says with a shrug. She starts kicking her legs like a child.
“Suit yourself,” I sigh and face the laptop again. The jargon I wrote earlier stares back at me. The cursor seems to match the clock’s ticking.
“So, spill. How did you lose your virginity?” She leans forward a bit, her thighs falling open as she draws closer, her knuckles almost white on the edge of my desk.
I consider her question. The hem of her dress is mere inches from my hand. I draw closer and watch as my hand lifts and starts nervously toying with the hem.
“I met a girl in my first year of college,” I say. “She was smart and kind, and we had a good time together. I think we dated for two years.”
Her nose wrinkles in disapproval. “And?”
I move the hem higher on one side, exposing her skin a little. I stare up at her. She doesn’t budge, so I continue my story.
“We broke up at the start of sophomore year. Didn’t feel right.”
“Why?”
Because you still occupied my heart. But of course I won’t tell her that, so I opt for, “It just didn’t.”
“I see,” she says, sounding a little relieved. Her eyes drop to my fingers, now lightly caressing the exposed flesh of her thigh.
I finally register what I’m doing, so I start pulling away. She lifts her heeled foot and hooks it around my arm, forcing me to stay put.
“What happened next? ”
“I met someone else,” I recount. “But as I started my film career, I realized how people would treat you if you were a failure.” I swallow and move in closer again, my quads against her knees now. I continue talking as I pinch the hem of her dress between my fingers.
“She left?”
“Mm-hmm,” I murmur, thumbing the thin fabric as a distraction. I know how hypocritical my actions are right now regarding a safe work space, as I had so loudly proclaimed to her.
“That’s shitty of her,” she whispers.
I try to pull away again, but her foot shoots forward again, pulling me closer this time. The position leaves the dress draped between her now-spread legs, covering any view I might have. It also has her leaning back over my desk.
She brings me closer than I should. Close enough that I can’t stop my hands from gripping her bare thighs as though that might keep her from pulling me any closer.
“I was devasted,” I continue. “And I felt less of a genius, being the first child of ‘The Holt.’ She was the first person to ask if my father really was mine.” I don’t know why I’m telling Sam this, but it feels right.
“She was a bitch,” Sam hisses. “I’d have her killed.”
Something tells me she isn’t joking. It’s the first I’ve ever heard her want to kill someone on my behalf.
It’s also incredibly hot.
“She wasn’t wrong,” I say, swallowing hard.
“She was,” Sam insists, her tone vehement. Her teeth bite her bottom lip as she regards me keenly. “Would I ever lie to you, Stan? ”
I watch my hands holding her bare thighs. I move them over the tops of her thighs to the bend behind her knees and then back up to where they started. I finally meet her crystalline gaze.
“No,” I say.
“Good,” she says. “Who was your next heartbreak?”
“No one. There was Catherine, of course, but I wouldn’t say our relationship ended in heartbreak.”
“No one else?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “Wait. What? That’s it?” Disbelief drips from her tone as her fingers flex on the edge of the desk, turning her knuckles white again. “You’re still inexperienced, then. In sex, that is.”
My stroking her skin turns to massaging. My cheeks feel warm, and I’m hard as fuck.
“It’s funny how you think fewer partners means I’ve had less sex.” I tilt my face up to hers as I add, “It’s also adorable how you treat me like the boy who always obeyed his elders and followed the rules.”
My last sentence seems to have gotten to her, because she blushes. The pink spreads across her neckline, and then her chest.
“Aren’t you still that boy? Always wanting to play it safe?” she challenges.
“Sam.” My fingers trail across the backs of her legs. “I think you’re assuming my self-control and sense of integrity or professionalism translate to me not being interested in you.”
Her chin drops, and she can’t take her eyes off my hands trailing over her skin. Goosebumps pop up all over her thighs. “You’re really telling me you’ve only ever been with two women? ”
I move my palms up over the tops of her thighs again. We both watch as my hands disappear beneath her dress.
“Relationship-speaking, yes. But I’ve only ever wanted one.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm,” I hum in approval. “One I’m never supposed to touch.”
I abruptly flip her dress up around her waist, and she gasps.
My eyes soak in the sight of her slender thighs leading up to her apex, covered with pink lace underwear.
“Fuck,” she whispers as we both take in the sight before us.
She attempts to squeeze her legs together, but all it does is clamp me more tightly in place in front of her. I don’t stop touching her. Can’t peel my eyes from my hands gripping her thighs.
All Sam does is pant and watch me move my hands over her, up the sides of her thighs. I dip the tips of my fingers under the line of the underwear. Not far enough to go anywhere, just far enough to tease.
She lets out a whimper.
I know I promised her a safe working environment, but I can’t keep up with that pretense anymore. I just can’t.
“Hypocritical, isn’t it?” I say. “I claim to be hands-off, but here I am. Spreading your legs. Undressing you with my eyes and hands.” My voice lowers, turning gravelly. “Eager to fuck you.”
I don’t expect her to say anything, but she finds her voice. “How eager?”
“Nearly as eager as you.”
“I’m not eager,” she scoffs. “This whole thing isn’t bothering me one bit.” It’s a lie—and a challenge.
“Shall I search for proof?” I venture.
“Be my guest,” she says nonchalantly, spreading her legs open a little wider.
I smirk and finally run a finger against her damp panties. “You’re wet.”
“It’s sweat,” she defends quickly. “You’d know that if you had more experience.”
I grin, then trace a downward line with my finger across her panties.
“Oh, God,” she whispers, her hips bucking.
“All that? From just a simple touch?” I grin again, and continue my probing.
The swelling of her clit isn’t easy to miss against the fabric. I push it like a button, and she moans.
“Are you sure this is sweat?”
She’s quiet for a moment. “No,” she murmurs. “It’s not.”
“That’s all I need to hear,” I whisper.
Without another thought, my finger disappears under the panties and grazes her pussy carefully. Giving in to the temptation, I put the tip of my finger inside her, just enough to cover my fingernail .
“Oh!” she moans, pushing her hips outward to get my finger deeper inside her.
I pull my hand out and show her my glistening fingertip. “What’s this?”
She swallows. “Me.”
I lick the finger, enjoying the irresistibly salty taste. My bulge is about to rip my denims clean in half.
Wide-eyed, she gazes at me. But she’s made no attempt to stop me yet.
So I continue. I feel the lacy fabric beneath my thumb go wet, and I feel the hard point of her clit.
She arches her back, hands flying my shoulders as her eyes shut in pleasure. Her lips are slightly apart, and she shakes a little.
“Fuck, this is so good,” she murmurs, eyes locked on my hand working her. “This should not be this—”
I cut her off by increasing my pace. “This is exactly how it should be.”
Her gaze snaps to mine, and she nods. Then her breathing quickens. I watch her gray eyes go from hooded to widened. Her eyes have always been her giveaway.
So I’m not at all surprised when she gasps, “Stan!” as her back arches off my desk and her lashes crash down. She comes with my name on her lips.
Then she collapses back onto my desk, panting, slinging an arm over her face while I continue to gaze down at her, all beautifully disheveled.
I can’t believe it. The woman I’ve always wanted is beautifully spread on my desk, waiting to be devoured.
I grab my belt buckle and unfasten it. There’s no need to hide behind the pretense of employer and employee anymore .
She moves her hand away from her face to look at me. Swallowing hard, she reaches toward her panties, rubbing her pussy through the fabric. Taunting me.
“Stan! You in there? Get your ass out here!” Lucas’s voice booms.
My stomach drops, and we freeze. Frantically, we both get to our feet as the spell is broken.
I fasten my belt again and help her smooth out her hair while she straightens her dress.
I take a step back to regard her. She still looks like a hot mess even despite our efforts. Lucas can’t see her like this.
I urge Sam to stay indoors while I meet with her cousin. I round the back deck and almost crash straight into him.
“Whoa.” He steadies my shoulders with his hands, a mocking smirk on his lips. “I know you miss me, but I’m a married man now. We can’t be having an affair anymore.”
“You have a wife now, and suddenly I’m not good enough for you?” I play along, hoping he won’t notice something amiss.
“Glad to see you still got it,” he laughs. “Anyway, where’s Sam? Let me say hi.”
“She’s talking to a director for my project,” I say. “I wouldn’t bother her right now.”
“Oh, right. Anyway, I have to run some errands. Come with me? Been a while.”
“Sure, I’ll grab my keys.” I hasten back to the office.
Sam is at her desk, putting on light makeup. “He’s gone? ”
“No, we’re going out,” I reply. “Be back soon.”
“Alright. I’ll have the table cleaned,” she informs me, avoiding eye contact.
I notice the wet stain on the table and swallow hard. “Right.”