14. Chapter 14 – Peyton
Chapter 14 – Peyton
“ M s. Everett.”
Mr. Bryce’s warm voice called from across the great room as I dusted the wooden shutters on the windows and I forced myself to take a calming deep breath before I turned to face him.
“Mr. Bryce.” I replied, and then nearly swallowed my tongue as he strolled toward me in a three-piece suit cut for Adonis himself. The man was so infuriatingly sexy, and he didn’t even deserve it.
You should have to be a good person to be that drool worthy.
“I have a meeting in the city this afternoon. I have a couple of errands I need you to run for me while I’m there. So grab your coat.”
“My coat?” I stammered, not following what he was saying.
“We’re leaving in ten minutes.” He looked at his watch, “It’s supposed to rain later, so go change into something more appropriate for fine dining. And grab your coat.” He looked back up at me and raised one of his perfect eyebrows. “Unless you’re looking to join a wet t-shirt contest while we’re out. ”
My pussy spasmed as his eyes flicked down to my white blouse and I nearly choked at his statement. “No, Sir.” I grabbed my supplies. “I’ll be right back.”
“Good girl.” He said fleetingly, pulling his cellphone out and walking back through the house.
Good girl?
Fuck it, I had a full-on waterfall between my thighs and it was all Dane’s fault.
I ran through the house, closeting my supplies and then racing to the guest house. All day long, Dane’s dirty words about fucking Lincoln Bryce played on repeat in my head. I was a horny mess, and it was hardly one in the afternoon.
I was supposed to be on break, but instead I was flinging clothes out of my closet trying to find something appropriate for fine dining .
Who the hell was going to be dining? Him? Was I going to be serving him?
“Jesus fuck.” I groaned, hating my wardrobe more with each discarded option. My hand landed on one hanger and I paused, looking at the outfit hanging on it as a rant of thoughts flashed through my head.
Don’t do it.
It’s not appropriate.
You’re just a horny teenager that wants to make your boss hard.
It’s not worth it.
My phone pinged in the back pocket of my slacks and I would have ignored it because of the time crunch, if I didn’t recognize the sound as Dane’s hackery notification ping.
The man somehow set his own ringtone to my phone to alert me to his presence.
So, what are you wearing on your date ?
I rolled my eyes and decided not to reply. But I did set my phone up on the chair along the wall by the mirror so he could see my room, but not me.
A few seconds later, his voice came through the speaker. “Oh, come on, Puppet. Don’t I get a show?”
“Your stalking knows no bounds, does it?” I snapped, as I started stripping out of my work clothes, staring at the outfit on the hanger.
“Not where you’re concerned.” He deadpanned like it wasn’t problematic. “So, what are you going to wear?”
“Why do you care?” I flicked my bra off and threw it toward the camera, snickering to myself when he groaned.
“Naughty Puppet.” He sounded playful, and I smiled, quite enjoying it. “You’re teasing me.”
“You’ll survive.” I changed into a seamless thong and then slid silk stockings up my legs, adding a garter and clipping the thigh highs in. “You can always just rewatch the creepy videos you took of us last night if you’re lonely.”
“They’re not creepy. They’re sexy as fuck. I’ve come three times already from watching them. Not including the time with you this morning.”
I paused and looked over at my phone, knowing he couldn’t see me. “You came this morning?” I pulled the rose gold lace body suit on over my body, doing the awkward dance of trying to hook the crotch part together. And men wondered why we wanted privacy sometimes. There was nothing seductive about snapping a body suit together like a hunched over gorilla.
He hummed deeply, and I could almost feel the vibrations of his deep voice against my skin. “The same time you squirted for me. I came all over my stomach at the same time. ”
“Why is that so hot?” I questioned more for myself than him and then shook it off. I had zero time to daydream about Dane stroking his fat cock in mutual masturbation when I was trying to rush back to my demanding boss. Especially if I didn’t want to soak my fresh panties before I even got in the car.
Fuck, were we riding together? Alone? In a car?
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I pulled the garter up to my waist and then checked that my thigh highs were secure before sliding the long calf length pencil skirt up over my hips, shimmying into it and then zipping it up. I grabbed the black cape blazer that essentially sat on my shoulders with my arms draped in it and looked in the mirror.
Fuck, it screamed dirty sex kitten.
But I was out of time to change anything about it, if I had a hope or a dream of fixing my face.
I rushed to the bathroom and pulled the claw clip from my hair, dousing it in dry shampoo for some more volume and then reapplied my mascara and grabbed my trusty red lip stain. It was probably over the top for one in the afternoon, but it would last all day and into the evening.
“Do I get a little preview at least?” Dane’s voice filtered through the phone again and I grinned to myself, knowing I was going to give him more than just a preview. The man drove me wild with sexual excitement, and I wanted to tease him like he had been doing to me.
I picked up the sexy shoes he bought me, and returned silently overnight, and then walked over in front of the phone. My image was up on the screen and I leaned over, pretending to check my red lipstick. I adjusted my tits in the cups of the v cut top until they were nearly spilling over and then winked and stood up, so he got the full image. I gracefully stepped into his shoes and then turned, checking out the way they made my ass look lifted and plumper. Which was saying something, because as a big girl in a very giving pencil skirt, I was already looking snatched.
“Puppet.” He growled deeply and then sighed. “You’re an evil, naughty little vixen.”
I smirked and turned so my ass was to him and shimmied as I looked over my shoulder. “Maybe you should spank me for it.” I giggled at my attempt to be the vixen he thought I was and picked my phone up. “I have to go. And you’re not allowed to interrupt me for the rest of the day.”
“Hmm,” He hummed, “Challenge accepted.”
Oh shit.
M r. Bryce ignored me when I returned to the main house, simply staring at his phone and walking ahead of me to the garage. Did I expect him to at least admire my fancy outfit? Maybe. Was it better if he didn’t? Absolutely.
Dane’s dirty words fucked with my head, and I forced myself to ignore all of them as we got to the garage. I had seen none of Mr. Bryce’s cars before, but the obscene number of flashy, super modified sports cars lining the large space took me back.
Mr. Bryce was into going fast. Noted .
My heels clicked mockingly across the shiny epoxy floor as I admired them. I saw one across the space that caught my eye with its rainbow iridescent paint job and shook my head at the obscene price it must have cost.
“Pick one.” His voice interrupted me and I was so caught up on the warmth of it for the millionth time that I missed what he said at first.
And then it clicked. “Pic—pick one?”
He nodded and fanned one arm out across the dozens of cars, “Which one should we take today?”
“I don’t know the first thing about cars.” My head shook after I stammered. “I drive a Corolla.”
He smirked, and I stared at the slight movement on his face, realizing it was the first time I’d seen him smile in any way. “I didn’t ask for your professional opinion on the fresh air intake on them.” He put his hand in his pants pocket and the relaxed motion made my body go warm with appraisal. “I asked which one you wanted to ride in.”
While I chewed on my bottom lip, attempting to redirect blood flow from my kitty to my brain, I concentrated on his question. I glanced over the array of options and found the one in the corner that had caught my eye first. “That one.” I nodded with my chin, “The color changing one.”
He eyed the fancy car and then turned back to me, “The Ferrari SF90.” He mused and then held his hand out for me to walk in front of him toward it. “The second most expensive car in this garage.”
I tripped, skidding to a stop and turning so fast that he nearly ran into me, stopping only an inch away.
Fuck, he was massive and smelled so good up close.
“I change my mind.” I swallowed. “I’ll drive my car and follow you.”
“Why?” He raised one eyebrow at me but didn’t back up, so I stepped back to create space between us. I was far too deep in my newfound slut journey to be trusted so close to him. For fuck’s sake, the man had already watched me orgasm in his hot tub, and then found me holding my wet panties in his closet.
And apparently jacked off after that.
Did I believe Dane’s tale? No. However, a big part of my slutty brain liked the idea that someone like me would attract the stone-cold billionaire. And I was already getting too many fictional fantasies to come true to trust myself from doing something naughty in front of my boss.
Like sinking to my knees at his feet and begging him to let me suck his cock.
Down girl.
“I’ll ruin it somehow.” Shaking my head with wide eyes like it was obvious. “I’ll spill something or scuff something.”
He didn’t reply but stepped forward, putting his hand on my elbow and herded me back towards the car. “Keep your panties on and I think you’ll be okay.” He said, and my heart sank to my stomach in shock.
No, he did not just talk about my panties. Bastard.
He reached around me and opened the low door for me, crowding me in against the opening. “Get in the car, Ms. Everett. I’m a busy man.”
“Yes, Sir.” I whispered, sinking down into the low car, trying desperately to keep my skirt from splitting as I took my seat. Thank god I chose the long skirt instead of a short one.
He closed the door and walked around the rear of the car as I buckled my seatbelt, completely shook that I was sitting in such a flashy car on a seat that felt like butter against my skin .
A ping on my phone sounded, and I frantically pulled it from my purse to silence it as Mr. Bryce took his seat gracefully. For such a tall man, he fit into the seat with ease.
I shielded my phone from his view as I skimmed the message from Dane.
Is your pussy dripping for your boss like it does for me?
“Everything okay?” Mr. Bryce asked, and I nearly choked on my tongue as I held down the power button on my phone, turning it off completely before shoving it deep into the bottom of my small purse.
“Mmh-hmm.” I hummed, nodding my head rapidly.
“Good.” He hit a button on the dash and the overhead door to the garage opened silently as he hit another button and the car turned on. It was almost soundless, aside from a slight vibration from the engine. “Because I’d hate for someone to be distracting you when you’re mine.”
I looked over at him and found his dark stare zeroed in on me and a blush crawled up my chest. There was something about the way he said ‘mine’ that made my skin buzz with familiarity. “I’m all yours.” In a nearly hushed tone, I replied, fully cognizant of the dual significance of the words. “I’m focused.”
“Good.” He looked away, shifting the car into gear with his big hand on the gearshift between us, and the car peeled out, roaring through the opening and out onto the blacktop.
I squealed like a ninny and grabbed onto the door for leverage as he raced down the winding driveway and then straight out onto the road without even braking to look for oncoming traffic. “Oh god.” I gasped and then bit my lip when he looked over from the corner of his eye.
“I didn’t take you for a scaredy-cat.” He shifted gears and raced down the road at breakneck speeds.
“What gave you any impression at all?” I asked and then regretted it when I realized what impressions he got from me to start with.
He snorted lightly and shrugged. “Hot tub masturbator and closet stripper were some big tells.”
I groaned, wishing I’d fought harder to drive my car to the city. It was an hour away and I could not stomach sitting next to him that long if he insisted on bringing it up. “Can we just move on past that? I assure you, both incidents were very isolated cases of misunderstanding that won’t happen again.”
He glanced at me briefly, shifting gears again as he merged onto the highway. “Shame.”
What the fuck?
I opened my mouth to say exactly that, when his phone rang through the speakers and he accepted it.
“You’re on speakerphone and I’m not alone.” He said in place of greeting and I gritted my teeth at the very inconvenient interruption to what was probably going to be the bravest conversation of my entire adult life.
The contact name just had the letter Q on the screen and the voice that came through was a man’s. I could tell he was hesitant to speak at all, after Mr. Bryce’s greeting but they found a rhythm of conversation where they gave me almost zero clues to what they were actually talking about, but managed to discuss quite a lot in the time it took to reach the city limits.
When he ended the call, he glanced back at me, yet I continued to look out the window as if I wasn’t trapped in a small space with someone who disregarded my presence entirely .
“Do you know your way around a stick?” He asked, and I forgot my plan of ignoring him and whipped around to look at him in shock. “Standard car and all.” He gripped the gearshift, changing from fourth to third as we slowed down.
“Why?” I shook my head in confusion and embarrassment.
“I need you to run errands while I’m at this meeting. I already told you that. So I need to know if you can drive this car, or if I need to arrange for one to pick you up.”
“Why didn’t you say that before we left?” I scowled, “I’m not driving this car. I’ll get an Uber or something.”
“So you’re an average American that can’t drive a stick shift.” He surmised, “Got it.”
“I didn’t say I can’t drive a standard car. I said there’s no way I’m driving a car worth a hundred thousand dollars.”
“Five.” He added nonchalantly.
“What?” I snapped, irritated and frustrated with myself.
“The car is worth five hundred thousand dollars, base price. With all the modifications and upgrades, this one was nearly seven hundred thousand dollars.” He said, as if he was talking about the cost of a loaf of bread. “So if you can drive it, prove it.”
He lifted his hand off the gearshift and sped up on the open street. I could tell by the whine of the car that it desperately wanted the next gear and that he was toasting the transmission to prove a point.
“What is wrong with you?” I shook my head, grabbing the gear shift and slamming it into fourth as he hit the clutch.
“Again.” He said plainly, accelerating even more. We were nowhere near the traffic of the city yet, thank god, but we were going far over the speed limit. The whine of the car rattled my nerves like nails on a chalkboard and I shifted into fifth .
Or at least I tried, but it was harder than one would think to shift a car from the passenger seat, even given my extensive experience driving standard cars, and I missed.
Grind ‘em till you find ‘em. At least that’s what my mom always said when she was driving my dad’s truck growing up.
“Jesus Christ.” He groaned and wrapped his hand around mine, maneuvering it into fifth with ease. “Maybe an Uber is better after all.”
“It’s because I’m over here.” I grimaced as the light turned red ahead of us and he started slowing down. He didn’t remove his hand as he shifted down, one gear at a time when I knew he could have doubled us down to a stop.
His hand dwarfed mine on the shifter and I caught myself looking down at it, perplexed by the entire thing.
“So you can handle it?” He asked, as the light turned green, so he sped up. He removed his hand from mine, and I instantly missed the feel of it, but I effortlessly shifted through the gears, with zero grinding. I smiled triumphantly, and he rolled his eyes, making him look almost… normal.
“I can shift your car, but that doesn’t mean I want to drive it.” Now that I had proven my point, I removed my hand.
He scoffed and took over, “Well, you don’t have a choice, because here we are.” Bringing us into the parking lot of a swanky office building, he stopped in the valet spot. He tapped a few buttons on the screen and a list of items and places popped up. “These are what I need from you. Can you handle it?”
I skimmed the list. Lawyer’s offices, a few shops, and a hardware store.
“Easily.”
“Good.” He undid his seat belt. “Be back by six thirty. ”
“Yes, Sir.” I said and jumped slightly when my door opened, revealing a valet attendant.
“Wait there.” Mr. Bryce snapped and got out of the car, walking around the hood and straight to my door. The attendant backed up, stammering something as a tense stare down happened from the hulking entrepreneur I called Sir. When Mr. Bryce blocked off the door to the car and held his hand out to help me up, I took a deep breath, preparing myself to touch him. It wasn’t like I could shimmy into the driver’s seat with my obnoxiously tight skirt on. “Peyton.” He said, and I slid my hand into his, reveling in the tightness of his grip, and as gingerly as I could, stood up from the low car.
When I was safely on my feet, I adjusted my skirt and expected him to back up, but his eyes held mine powerfully from far above, forcing me to tip my head back to look up at him. I still couldn’t get over how fucking tall he was.
Just like Dane.
Damn, would he be mad if he knew I was lusting over my boss? Again.
No, because it was his fault I was even thinking the indecent things.
“Don’t break any speed limits.” He said, taking my elbow and leading me around the hood. “And don’t be late getting back, or I’ll take my reservation at Menton without you.” He named the highest rated restaurant in Boston as I got to the driver’s side door and I swallowed quickly, but he wasn’t done with me yet. “I hear the food is orgasmic.” I stared up at him, expecting to see the relaxed mirth he’d shown in the car on the way into the city, but there wasn’t anything light in his dark eyes.
There was only darkness I didn’t recognize. “Six-thirty.” I whispered, “Got it.”