6. Rian
Six
Rian
Inever work late, yet here I am, close to seven, still in the office, fixing gaps in the Alton House contract. I could have left it for Catriona to sort out, like I normally do, but it nags at me – a lot – that I was called to Smyth’s office yesterday. I want nothing left to chance.
Gemma helped out earlier but had to leave for some function.
I wonder if her announcement of plans was an attempt to make me jealous.
She’s probably disappointed that I didn’t make any advances a few nights ago.
Well, if jealousy was her goal, she succeeded, because I envy her chance to leave this fecking office.
Instead, I’m stuck here with ice queen Catriona and a table stacked with files, paper and legal books.
I’m tired and my muscles ache. I’m sure Catriona feels the same – she’s been in the office since before eight this morning.
An unwelcome twitch, similar to guilt, blooms in my chest. I didn’t arrive until closer to ten and had an almost two-hour-long lunch.
Catriona probably had her sandwich at her desk as usual.
“I think that should cover it,” she says, making a couple of notes.
“Good. Another section done. Only one more to go.”
“Thank God.”
I’m about to come back with a snide, and very unfair, remark about her lack of stamina, but my words get stuck in my throat.
She’s stretching.
I mean she’s only stretching, eyes closed and her arms over her head, lengthening her back, but…Jesus…
Her jacket is open and, considering how she always hides her body, she must be completely unaware that the stretching makes her jacket split open, displaying apple green shirt fabric that strains over her breasts.
I can’t take my eyes off the swells under her shirt.
They seem like a nice handful, maybe a small C-cup?
I lick my lips and my fingers twitch. They’re only breasts for Christ’s sake – I’ve seen hundreds if not thousands of naked breasts in my life.
But this is the first proper glimpse of Catriona’s shape.
My pulse increases. Fuck Gemma and her on-display cleavage. This is porn.
She drops her arms, and with momentous effort, I force my gaze down to the papers in front of me and swear under my breath – I’m acting like a teenager who’s never seen tits, not a twenty-eight-year-old man. I shift in my seat, grateful the table is hiding my growing erection.
“You’ll like working on the Stamford contract.”
Catriona rolls her shoulders. Little sighs sound from deep in her throat when she stretches her neck to each side. I wonder what she sounds like with a cock pumping inside of her. Or how muffled her moans are with her mouth stuffed.
“Pardon?” I say when it’s obvious that she’s waiting for a response to whatever she just said.
“The Stamford camera shop? The contract is up for renewal soon. You’ll enjoy working on it.”
“Oh yeah? Why is that?” Is my tone lower than normal?
“Because Miss Stamford is right up your street,” Catriona replies with a raised eyebrow, tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
Her movement causes her jacket to open again, but despite how much I will it to part like the Red Sea, hardly an inch of shirt fabric is exposed. And all too quickly covered.
“Right. So you think you know what my type of woman is?” I take a sip of my bitter and lukewarm coffee, a bit more in control of myself now that her jacket again hides her breasts.
“For sure! You’re not very picky, really. They just need to be female” – she pauses and shoots me a teasing questioning look – “show off lots of skin and gaze at you with dreamy eyes.”
She bats her eyelashes to demonstrate as she rests her arms on the table and leans forward, sure of herself and eagerly waiting for me to take the bait. It’s an unusual teasing demeanour without the hard edges I’m so familiar with.
I copy her posture and lean over the table, so close to her face that her warm breath fans over my skin. She doesn’t back away or show any weakness despite my intrusion into her personal space.
“In other words, you think I’ll fuck anything in a skirt?”
She smirks, but it’s not as confident as she would want it to be. The tip of her tongue wets her upper lip. What would she do if I grabbed her, kissed her? Bit that lip that is now shining? My cock presses against my zipper.
“You are so wrong,” I continue. “I couldn’t care less about girls who flash their eyelashes at me.
They are no challenge. If I asked them to clean the floor with their tongue, they would.
” Catriona’s breath catches and the air thickens between us.
My voice turns husky. “My type of woman isn’t the one who falls at my feet, but the one who fights me, who I would need to discipline and control. ”
Her pupils dilate. “Discipline?”
My chest rumbles. “Oh yes. You have no idea.” I pause for effect before leaning back in my chair, knowing I have her full attention.
“Whenever someone contradicts me or tells me I’m wrong when I am absolutely right, all I want to do is put that girl across my lap and spank that little butt of hers…
Making sure she’ll do as I tell her. That’s what turns me on, Miss Taylor, that’s the type of woman I’m into. ”
I ooze self-confidence, but look at her expectantly. Eager to gauge her reaction, challenging her to come up with a smart reply. Especially since I threatened to tan her arse just yesterday. Her cheeks flush. My blood rushes faster through my veins.
“Isn’t that contradictory?” She takes a steadying breath. “You say you’re not into the eager women because they’ll do anything you ask them to, yet you’re into women you can discipline to do as you tell them. It’s the same thing, isn’t it?”
“Far from it. The compliant girls do anything to please me so they can be with me. The other women, they’ll only be with me if I’m strong, if I can control them. If I show weakness, then I’m not pleasing them, and they won’t want to be with me.”
“So…what you’re saying is that the regular girls are doing all they can to please you to make you stay with them, whereas with the women you like, you have to please them to make them stay.”
I nod slowly. “That’s right.”
She shifts and her breathing quickens. “And…where do you find such women?”
I hold her gaze, make her wait. Her jacket moves over her breasts with every inhale. Fuck, I’m rock hard.
“Oh, they can be anywhere, where you least expect to find one,” I finally reply, my voice hoarse, slow, promising. Her lips part. I hold back a groan. Time to stop this before I do something I’ll regret. “And there are special clubs, for people with similar interests.”
She swallows. A hint of disappointment flashes across her face.
She straightens her back and her blue eyes regain their familiar coldness.
This Catriona, the one who is full of attitude, turns me on as much, if not more, than the curious version I just witnessed.
Oh, how I want to make her do things she doesn’t want to do, yet make her love to do it.
My mouth is dry and I thirst for the smart comment that I know will come out of those lovely full lips.
“I’m glad such clubs exist to keep you off the streets so normal people can be safe from your perversions.”
I chuckle softly. “Go home, Miss Taylor. It’s late and you need your beauty sleep.”
She rolls her eyes at my low blow but eagerly grabs the papers and files she needs and leaves the office without a goodbye.