Chapter Three
Marin
I never considered myself a tease. Heck, I think part of the reason my ex and I didn’t get along is because he thought I was asexual. Truthfully, I was starting to think I was too.
It’s not that I didn’t want a relationship with someone.
I knew from the time I was young that I wanted the house on the hill with a flower garden and a family.
It’s the sex part I never felt the pull for, even with Jackson, and technically speaking, he was a handsome guy.
Tall, suit and tie type, successful, driven, and unapologetically ambitious.
We would go on these late-night walks through the city, and I swear every woman on the street knew he was important.
They could sense it on him, feel it radiating off his three-hundred-dollar shoes.
And yet, no matter how hard I tried to force it, I never felt attraction to him or anyone the way I feel when I’m around Archer.
It feels animalistic and raw, like I can’t control the thoughts that filter through my head. Like I’m nervous and excited all at once. Like my body notices his far before my mind does, which is exactly why I need to get it together.
Who the hell do I think I am, taking off my shirt in the corner of the room, showing off my bra, hoping he loses control and takes me? I shouldn’t be throwing myself at the man.
Focus. I need to focus. The tips tonight could be good enough that I could maybe afford a night at the inn. I could really use a good night’s sleep, a shower that’s not at a gas station, and a hot meal.
When I step out of the office, it’s clear that the night is going to be exactly as I expected. We’re only ten minutes in and women are already swinging around floppy, purple dildos and cackling like this is the first time they’ve been let out of the house in ages.
The men seem more reserved, maybe even a little nervous, except for one in the front corner that looks like he started drinking before he got here. His cheeks are dark red, and he’s gotten ahold of a Fleshlight that he’s pretending to hump into.
This is easily the most explicit event I’ve ever been to.
Archer meets me at the end of the bar and shoots me a glare like he’s already tired of this. “You stay back here and make drinks. These people are weird. I’ll take the order to the table.”
I like it when he bosses me and gets all protective. I’m sure there’s some psychology to this that I could benefit from learning about, but instead I grip the edge of the bar and hold tight, attempting to keep myself from jumping all over my boss.
“You okay?” He leans in closer and brushes a strand of hair from my face. “Do these people make you nervous?”
Not as much as you do.
“No,” I swallow hard and turn back toward the bar, grabbing jars of blackberry pie whiskey for the table, “I’m fine.”
He smells so good, like the center of a forest in mid-June, all pine and cedar with a hint of warmth.
Take me, take me right now, on top of this bar for everyone to see.
“If you need a break, go back to my office.” His big, muscular arm brushes against mine as he grabs the tray and heads toward the back table where the women who are supposed to be reconnecting with their husbands all stare.
I know it’s hard not to look at a giant with bulging biceps, deep blue eyes, and a head full of hair, but the way these ladies are all eye-fucking him is a little rude to their husbands … if you ask me.
No one is asking me, though. I’m just standing back here like a quiet, little troll studying all their expressions, watching the way their eyes follow him, wondering how faithful these women truly would be if their husbands weren’t around.
Ugh… I can’t imagine the reaction they’d be having right now if the tables were turned and some sexy girl was serving their men. Something tells me there would be some yelling, some screaming, maybe even a few tears.
Heart thumping against my chest, I grab the second tray of drinks and carry them toward the table. I know Archer asked me to stay back, but I really don’t want to watch him go back to that table for a second round.
His intense eyes meet mine with disapproval as I set the tray down and begin to slide mason jars between tiny bullet-sized vibrators, pussy pockets, dildos, and nipple clamps. I’ve looked at websites with toys like this before, but I’ve never actually used one.
I wonder what it would feel like to have that little egg vibrating on my clit, or to slide one of those giant dildos inside of me?
Given the fact that there are entire parties surrounding their existence, I assume these toys must be amazing, so I slide an egg vibrator into my pocket, calling it a preemptive tip.
It’s around that time that I feel a pinch on my ass, followed by a rowdy laugh from the drunken man who I’d lost sight of when I bent toward the table.
I turn back, my face blazing hot, my heart pounding, rage taking over like a wildfire.
“You like that, don’t you?” the asshole snarks and leans in as though he’s going in for my breast next. The entire room hushes quiet, and though I don’t take my eyes off the man, I feel everyone in the room stare.
“Get your fuckin’ hands off me.” I’m lifting my hand to smack the offender when Archer pushes past, grips the man by his throat, and shoves him into the brick wall behind the table.
Everything happens so fast.
There’s a thud.
A sputter.
An audible gasp from the guests still holding dildos.
“Apologize to her right the fuck now,” Archer growls, his jaw tight as he loosens his grip just slightly enough so the man can speak.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” the asshole squeaks as he attempts to pry Archer’s giant hands off of him. “I’m drunk. Can’t you see I’m fuckin’ drunk?”
Archer squeezes tighter as though the apology isn’t hitting the mark he’d hoped it would.
My stomach tightens and my mind flashes to the stories Mrs. Robinson was telling me earlier in the day, particularly the one where he snapped the arm off a mannequin. Also, the one where he did God knows what to his daughter’s boyfriend.
His daughter!
His daughter, who’s older than me!
This should shock me back to reality. It should remind me that this act of protection isn’t personal.
It’s innate. It’s who he is. But as Archer drags the man out into the street, my panties are soaked, my clit throbs, and I’m overwhelmed with the aching urge to shove this little bullet vibrator into my panties and come… hard!
Why is the urge so strong right now? I shouldn’t be turned on. Archer’s act of protection was barbaric and violent. I’m far, far, far more civilized than whatever type of woman would be turned on by something like this… right?
My squeezing thighs tell a different story. I stare toward the crowd who’s currently gossiping amongst themselves. I doubt anyone would notice if I backed down the hallway toward Archer’s office. No one would notice if I found a quiet corner to get some relief.
As I run my fingertip along the exposed brick on my way down the hall, the tension continues to build. What is happening to me?
When I reach the office door, I pull it slowly, not wanting to alert anyone to my absence, but once inside, all bets are off.
Instantly I tug off my leggings and tuck into his chair.
My thighs stick to the leather as I lob one leg up onto his desk, cool air passing over the top of my soaking pussy as I twist on the silver, vibrating bullet and drag it over my hungry, swollen clit.
Oh God!
My body reacts and jumps against the vibration, a thrill of energy coursing through me like a wave of heat I can’t get enough of. I’ve never masturbated with anything like this before. It’s… pure ecstasy!
I blow out a breath and grip the edge of the heavy chair, imagining that I’m on Archer’s big lap, that I’m grinding against his cock, that he’s spreading me wide, that his big, calloused hands are roaming my body while I hold this little vibrating egg over my clit.
I wasn’t expecting the vibration to feel this good!
My thighs tense and tighten as I press the egg harder against my clit, my breath picking up, my heart hammering against my chest.
I need to come! I need to come fast! I need to come before he finds me and wonders why I’ve locked myself in his office!
I can’t fathom the lies I’d have to tell, or how I’d be able to hide the face of a girl who just experienced heaven, but none of that matters right now. I’m too consumed by how good it feels to rub myself raw in the chair he spends all day working at.
Will he smell me here later? Has he touched himself in this very chair on a whim?
My nipples tighten, my mouth goes dry, and the vibrating egg sends a bolt of excitement through my soaking clit as my back arches up away from the chair.
“Fuck me!” a rasped voice echoes from the doorway.
The door! I locked the door, right?
Clearly, I didn’t lock the door! How did I forget to lock the door?
“Jesus.” Archer steps into the room and stares at me like a deer in headlights.
I know I should move. I’m at work. I need this job.
I have zero options and now my boss is currently staring at me while I masturbate in his office, but for some reason I can’t turn the little vibrator thing off.
In fact, knowing that he’s staring at me, knowing that he’s here, knowing how wrong all this is, it only turns me on more.
I arch my neck back and let my hair fall down off the edge of the chair as he closes the door behind him and rounds the desk like an animal, circling its prey.
“This isn’t very professional of you.” His hand hovers above my skin, the heat radiating though he never touches me.
My face burns with embarrassment, but I can’t stop. In fact, I press the vibrator harder onto my clit. “I know,” I pant, “but I need it.”
“You need it?” He leans in closer, his hand still hovering over my skin as my thighs clench and release, my body on the edge of orgasm.
“What do you need?”
“I need to come! I need to come right now!” The words spill from my mouth as though I’m possessed, as though I have no control over my lips, as though I’m in a movie watching a version of myself react like a tawdry, little tease.
Who is she?
“Do it!” he growls, still hovering over me, the heat from his body radiating as his jaw tightens. “Let me watch you come.”
He wants to watch me come? My big, inked, hot as hell boss wants to watch me come?
Oh damn! My clit throbs faster, and a rush of electricity sparks life in me that I’ve never felt before.
“I need you to touch me!”
Did I really just say that?
He pauses and I stare at him, my body jumping and desperate, riding the edge of the orgasm I’m pretty sure I’m about to spill into.
“Seriously,” I press, “I need your hands all over me.”
His wide chest rises and falls quickly, his nostrils flare, and I see the war behind his eyes. A war that says he wants to touch me, but he can’t.
For whatever reason, this battle of wills makes my thighs squeeze tighter. Why does it turn me on to watch him struggle to restrain himself around me?
“That’s right.” He leans in, his voice a growl, his breath warm as he says, “Good girl. Get my chair all sticky and wet.”
His deep voice only heightens every sensation currently coursing through me. It’s inhuman, the feeling I’m feeling. Every muscle unknots, every nerve fires free, every worry dissipates until all I feel is sweet release as it washes over me.
“Jesus Christ,” Archer growls as he breathes me in, dragging his gaze down over my frame to pause at my pulsing pussy. “You look so beautiful when you come.”
“Touch me,” I whimper, desperate for his hands.
“Hmm… can you imagine how that’d look?” he growls under his breath before leaning in, breathing in the scent of me.
“A man my age between your legs, licking up your come, touching your soft body?” There’s a roughness in his voice as he talks, as though he’s struggling not to do the things he’s speaking of. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”
Legs still spread wide, I stare toward him. “What?”
“You’re a virgin.” He tilts his head to the side slowly, studying every inch of my exposed pussy. “I could tell the day I hired you. You had this innocent, lost look in your eyes. Like you weren’t sure of yourself yet. Like you’re still figuring out the world.”
I narrow my gaze as I drag the vibrator slowly through the sopping mess I’ve made. “Okay. Good to know my virginity is so plainly obvious.”
He brushes his square hand down over his graying beard. “Yes, and men prey on that. So, from now on, you’ll be with me. I don’t want you behind the bar anymore.”
Oh damn. Again, this shouldn’t turn me on. It’s possessive and toxic, I’m sure.
I close my legs and stare up at Archer who’s taken to the edge of his desk.
“What are you talking about? I need my job.”
His gaze drops toward my mouth and up again. “You’ll have your job, but you’ll stay by me and you won’t talk to other men.”
My brows narrow inward and I huff as I reach for my skirt, ignoring the leggings he’d asked me to wear earlier.
“Yeah, I’m not going to follow you around like a puppy all day long.
If you don’t like me working the bar, I’ll go to the redneck place down the street. I’m sure they’d hire me right away.”
“Look,” he groans, leaning in closer, “I appreciate that you think you have options, but if you go down to that hole in the fucking wall place and let a bunch of flannel fucks think they have a chance of sinking between those creamy wet thighs, I swear to fucking God, I’ll beat the shit out of every one of them.
Is that what you want? Do you want me to spend every night in a blind fucking rage? ”
Why is my pussy pulsing again? Why do I like that he’s so protective? Why do I want him to sit back in his chair so I can slide down onto his cock and bounce on his lap until he comes? Why do I want him dripping out of me all day?
“I don’t think you get to do that. I don’t belong to you.”
I think I’m having fun. I think this is the way the story goes before he grabs my arm, pulls me close, and leans me over his desk.
A moment later there’s a hard crack. A hard, echoing crack and a stinging pressure against my ass as his stiff cock presses into my hip.
“Say you don’t belong to me again.”
Oh God!
I should be repulsed, desperate to run, disgusted by his show of masculine overture, but I’m not. I’m not and I want more!
“I don’t belong to you,” I say again, this time bracing for another spank, which comes hard and fast.
“You little brat,” he growls. “Sitting at my desk, teasing me with that tight, little, virgin pussy, and now you run your mouth!”
I have never been talked to like this in my life, but who knew I’d like it this much?