5. Katie
I sighas I slip off my sandals, the ones that have been pinching my feet all evening. The June night is quiet except for the muffled party sounds in the distance. After the stuffy event room, it’s nice to be by myself for a few minutes.
I sink onto the pool deck and dip my toes into the water. I’m ruining my sixty-dollar pedicure, but it helps the tension ease from my body.
These events are always difficult for me. I don’t fit into this world filled with beautiful and successful people. Having to pretend like I do is exhausting.
“It’s a nice night for a swim.”
I close my eyes and listen to the deep timber of Michael’s voice. It’s smooth and smokey at the same time, honey and bourbon mixing together. “I didn’t pack a bikini.”
“You could always skinny dip.”
The image fills my mind with dirty ideas. “It’s dangerous to swim alone.”
His voice drops even lower, creating an ache between my thighs. “Are you suggesting we skinny dip together?”
I shift, squeezing my thighs. “I promise not to steal your virtue.”
“And if I want you to?” He prompts, moving closer until he’s standing behind me.
I stay still, my heart pounding. He doesn’t mean that. He can’t mean what I think he does.We need to get back to business. “So the Abernathy corporation, are they looking to invest in Alpha Defense?”
“I’m not here to talk business, Katie.” He takes a seat beside me. It’s the only time he’s ever called me by my first name.
I pull my feet from the pool and tuck them beside me. I should return to the party. But I can’t seem to force myself to walk away from Michael.
“Then what are you here for?” My voice comes out wrong, too high and breathy.
“A swimming buddy.” He reaches for my foot and pulls it into his lap. He starts a slow massage of my arch, using his thumb to hit a pressure point.
It creates an answering zing that travels from the sole of my foot to the apex of my thighs. I enjoy the sensation even as I know it’s wrong for us to be doing this.
“Someone could see,” I warn him.
“Then they’ll see that you have a very attentive boss,” he answers without the slightest hint of concern in his voice.
He moves his thumb higher to the base of my big toe.
I let out a moan only to clamp a hand over my mouth, embarrassed by my unexpected reaction.
He chuckles and switches to my other foot, giving it the same gentle massage. “I like a woman who shows her satisfaction.”
He slowly slides his hand higher. His fingers brush the crinoline that gives my skirt a full look. Knowing his fingers are up under my dress makes my panties damp as I imagine him going just a little further north.
He cups my calf, his talented fingers easing the muscle aches from wearing those damn shoes. “You carry a lot of tension in your legs.”
“That’s not the only place I’m tense.” Did I really just say that? Am I actually flirting with my boss right now?
He inhales sharply. “Where else?”
I swallow, trying not to think of Brent. He always acted weird about the fact that I wanted to be touched, that I wanted to touch him. “Between my thighs.” The three words are a whispered plea.
Michael’s fingers ghost along my thighs, rubbing slow circles. Now I’m wondering what it would be like to have him be my first. Like he’d want you.
He continues with his torturous circles until I’m spreading my legs, a clear invitation for him to go upward.
But Michael doesn’t rush. He continues the same motions on different parts of my thigh, the front and the back and the inside.
Finally, I provide a little coaching. Maybe he didn’t understand what I was saying earlier. “Higher.”
He stops massaging me but doesn’t move his hand from beneath my skirt. Instead he rests it on my thigh, his fingers warm and rough against my skin. “One rule tonight, Katie. I’ll decide when and how you take your pleasure.”
I gasp even as there’s a fresh surge of moisture between my legs.
I’m not sure if I’m willing to give him control. I’ve read about it. I’ve written twenty-seven stories about this sort of thing. Still, that doesn’t mean I’ve ever trusted someone else with my body. “But will I get it?”
“On my terms, but only mine.”
“So, I have no say in this?” Even as I ask the question, something about it excites me. I like the idea of surrendering, of having Michael be in charge of my body.
He moves his hands from underneath my dress. Then he tilts my chin up and his gaze drops to my lips. “You either trust me to satisfy you in every way or you don’t.”
I lick my lips. “I want that.”
He lowers his head, pressing his lips against mine. His kiss isn’t a gentle exploration. This kiss is fierce, demanding, possessive. As if he’s trying to brand me with his lips alone.
Tingles race down my spine and my muscles go weak, buckling against him. I’ve never been kissed with this much passion, never felt so consumed by a man in a single moment.
He puts his arms around me to steady me, his fingers digging into my curves. Then he growls, making a possessive noise in the back of his throat.
When he finally lifts his head, my lips feel swollen and my core aches. If my body responded to a kiss with Michael this way, then I can only imagine what the chemistry would be like if there were no clothes between us.
“We’re getting back to that massage now.”
His hands are under my skirt again, tracing me through the layer of my lacy panties. He runs his knuckle along them, creating just enough friction to make me wish this were skin-to-skin contact. But I know better than to give him instructions now.
He groans. “Tell me what color your panties are.”
My cheeks flame. He can’t actually expect me to answer that, can he?
Michael quirks an eyebrow when I don’t answer.
I drop my gaze to the pool deck, whispering, “White lace.”
“Before the end of the night, you’re going to show them to me. You’ll be standing in front of me in only your panties. Do you understand?”
I swallow and nod even as dread fills me. I can’t imagine he’ll like what he sees. But maybe that’s just something he’s saying. Something to get me off.
Then he slips his fingers beneath my underwear and traces my folds gently. He makes a strangled noise. “Fuck, you’re bare.”
“I like the way it feels,” I admit. I never imagined my boss would know I get Brazilians. The shame has me burying my head in his shoulder so he can’t see my face or know how deeply arousing this is for me.
He finds my clit, and he begins a steady rhythm of teasing me. He strokes twice then stops only to start again. The next time he does it, I’m coming against his hand and whimpering into his suit coat.
He continues to touch me, extending my pleasure again and again until one orgasm bleeds into the next.
When it finally ends, I give a shaky laugh and put my head against his chest. His heart is pounding as hard as my own. “I’ve never had anything like that.”
“The evening isn’t over,” his voice is a rumble beneath my ear.
The words fill me with delight. “Do I get to touch you now?” I don’t know how to touch him. But if I can make him feel half as good as he just made me feel, then I’ll be doing something right.
“No, you’re going upstairs to the VIP hotel room where you’ll take off your clothes except for those panties. I’ll be up there shortly to finish what we’ve started.”
Maybe he will be my first.The thought makes me feel giddy and nervous at the same time.
He rearranges my skirt. “The entire time you’re waiting for me, I expect you to touch yourself. I want your warm pussy dripping wet and ready for me to slide into the moment I’m in the room.”
I nod as he helps me to my feet. I’m not sure what to say to his naughty instructions.
“And Katie?” He grabs my elbow before I can leave the poolside. “You do not have permission to come.”