Chapter 9 Blanche
Chapter nine
Ugh. Come on…
“Excuse me, can you hurry up?” After another knock on the bathroom door, I give up, pulling my pants up and hurrying to wash my hands.
I didn’t expect to be masturbating in the bathroom at my new job, but here we are.
Maybe I need to call one of my regulars for a quickie tonight.
Something has to give because I can’t continue like this.
I quickly exit the restroom, ignoring the line of women and hoping I don’t look too flushed.
“Ms. Bedford, my office, if you please.” My lecherous boss is, of course, hovering nearby. It seems as if I can’t move anywhere in the office building lately without him being within ten yards of me.
Fuck.
It’s apparently been the mission of Henry Sinclair Jr. to torture me for the past week, giving me barely any peace and reminding me at every turn of the night of passion we shared.
I’m sure whatever he needs from me in his office now will be no different.
The man is such an asshole that I should be able to move on and stop letting my pussy think for herself.
She’s a traitor, and the last time I was in his office…
“Ms. Bedford, come in and shut the door behind you. I need you to take notes during a conference call that I have. Just shorthand for now, you can type it all up later. Here, sit next to me behind the desk. This phone is quiet. You’ll never be able to hear from the other side.”
I dutifully take my place on a stool far too close to Henry, noting immediately that I’m at a lower level than he is.
What a bastard. I pull out my notebook and pen as he answers the buzz of the conference call and jokes with some of the other people on the line.
As I dictate the first major discussion point, a trip coming up soon to meet with a potential acquisition, a metallic clink draws my attention.
Slowly looking up from my writing, I see that Henry has undone his belt and pulled his suit pants and boxers down around his thighs.
The magnificent cock that I was convinced I had exaggerated in my daydreams is just as I remember, thick and weeping.
I’m unable to continue taking notes, distracted by the view, when a snap in front of my face startles me.
Henry’s holding his open hand in front of me with an expectant look.
I stare dumbly for a long moment before he rubs his fingers together, and I realize what he wants.
He’s been such an asshole all week…well, two can play this game.
Gazing up at him and batting my eyelashes, I make a show of licking my lips and collecting a mouthful of saliva.
Slowly, I spit it into his hand, maintaining eye contact as a blush climbs his neck to his cheeks.
Once I’m finished, he winks at me and sits back, sliding back into the conversation on the call with ease and taking his cock in hand.
Trying to ignore the slow, firm strokes he’s squeezing up and down his shaft, I go back to my notes.
“These will be essential meetings, as I’m sure you’re aware, Mr. Sinclair. We want to ensure your entourage is compact but enough to meet your needs.”
His other hand reaches down to fondle his balls, and my pen falls to the floor.
“Yes, of course. The aforementioned list should be sufficient, and as long as my secretary, Ms. Bedford, is around, we’ll be efficient. She’s quite compact but certainly meets my needs.”
I flush as the men on the call laugh, but I can’t help but notice the bead of moisture forming at his tip.
It’s inconvenient as hell to be attracted to such a fucking prick, but I’m only a woman.
Henry’s hand moves faster, and a sheen of sweat covers his forehead.
He’s ignoring the call now, staring at my mouth.
When I dramatically trace my tongue across my lower lip, he stills, then shudders.
I hear the impact of his release on the underside of his desk before he falls limply back into his chair.
“No, all good here. I can’t think of anything else. Once everything is finalized, fax it to me. Ms. Bedford will make sure I have everything I need.”
“Blanche!”
I snap out of my reverie and feel my heart racing. My thighs are sticky, and I’m thankful that I didn’t wear a skirt today.
“Come here, I want to show you something.”
Listening to this man’s deep voice telling me what to do is getting old, but I haven’t quite decided how I’ll play my hand in this horny war we’re waging.
Better to go along with him for now and bide my time.
Swaying across the room, I notice he’s unable to keep his eyes off my hips, even if I’m not wearing the short skirt he’d prefer.
“Yes, sir? Is there anything I can help you with?” My most seductive voice comes out more rasp than purr, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Look,” he says, positioning me to face the windows of his office.
As he crowds in behind me, I enjoy the view.
The city bustles beneath us, giving way to rolling hills of the suburbs across the horizon.
He subtly inches us forward until I’m pressed against the glass by his tall, thick frame, and I can feel his semi-hard length just above the curve of my ass.
I’m trapped, but instead of feeling claustrophobic, I feel warm, as if I’m in a cocoon of muscle and masculine scent.
A moment later, he bends down to place his mouth level with my ear, a hair’s breadth from the sensitive skin of my neck.
“Do you see the tallest building on the opposite side of the square? With the Federal Bank sign on top?”
Fuck. His breath is warm on my skin, and I clench around nothing. I nod, waiting to see what his point is.
“Now look down and to the right. See that little three-story brick building just next door?”
Trees partially hide it on the edge of the square, but yes. I nod again, and he leans even more of his weight onto me. My forehead is pressed flush with the glass now, and the pressure of him against my back prevents me from taking anything but shallow breaths.
“That, Ms. Bedford,” he purrs, “is Madame Nox’s fine establishment. Do you care to venture a guess as to what trade Madame Nox plies?”
He shoves a hard thigh between my legs before I can respond, putting pressure on my clit and lifting, so that I’m dangling, trapped on his leg and held aloft by his body and the glass.
“She trades in pleasure, Ms. Bedford. I’ve been a client of hers and her roster of women for several years. Very clean, very discreet, and very skilled. Her location is, as you may be able to guess, perfect for a quick lunchtime respite or an after-work romp.”
I swear his lips make contact with my neck before he continues, voice quieter than before.
“There are rooms built for group activities, and rooms where I can watch John fuck women if I’m too tired to go again.
There are huge rooms built for the chase, dark rooms where only sensation matters.
I’ve watched women squabble, scratch each other bloody, then fuck like animals on the floor while another man sucks my cock. ”
He’s slowly moving his knee back and forth now. It’s just enough motion for my clit to wake up and try to say hello. Before he continues, he abruptly drops me to my feet and spins me around, a wild look in his eyes.
“Why, with a den of debauchery just across the square, can’t I stop thinking about—”
“Mr. Sinclair, I…oh!”
Henry is off me and turning to face the interloper, Mrs. Smith from the scheduling department.
She’s a little old thing, but she’s sharper than she lets on, and I can see her beady eyes darting between my asshole boss and me.
Great. Now the entire office will have plenty to talk about.
As she drones on about changes faxed in this morning to next week’s schedule, I take my chance to slip out.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see a clenched jaw and blazing eyes watching me leave.
By the next day, he’s even more feral, calling me into his office to stare at me or to make me take notes as John Carter details his latest conquest. Twins.
I finally snap when he makes his third innuendo during a board meeting, excusing myself to the restroom.
I have got to get the upper hand again before this goes any further. If he thinks he can keep acting like…
I jerk upright from my position bent over the sink as the bathroom door slams open, knocking a painting off the wall and revealing Henry, chest heaving, clearly having just stormed out of the board meeting after me.
“Get out of here! You cannot just behave like a possessive Neanderthal in front of the entire board, then follow me into the bathroom like this!” I hiss, backing into the bathroom of the boardroom until I feel my ass stopped by the sink.
Henry looks at me like I’m about to be his dessert, cocking his head to one side and appraising me from head to toe before smirking. Reaching behind him with one hand, he deftly locks the door.
“Can I not? Is it not my company? Is it not my board? Is that not my delectable ass that you chose to flaunt today, wearing that skirt?”
He places his hands on my hips, squeezing hard and pressing into me so that I feel every inch of his body on mine. I’m forced to lean back over the sink as he crowds me until we’re nose to nose. I take a shaky breath as I feel his hardening length pressing into me before he whispers darkly.
“Take. It. Off. If you wanted me to see you so badly. Show me.”
Finally, he moves back, giving me space for only a second before spinning me so that we both face the mirror over the sink. He looms over me, hair having grown more disheveled in the boardroom earlier, and eyes hungrily roaming over my chest to my waist.
“Strip. Or I’ll do it for you, and you’ll have to walk out of here in tatters.”
I meet his gaze in the mirror and find no hint of a tease. He means it.
I move as he straightens back up, slowly and robotically undoing the first three buttons of my shirt and enjoying the sharpness of his gaze as he sees the first bit of black lace.
I lick my bottom lip and catch it with my teeth, drawing his attention briefly as I pull my shirt free of my skirt and shimmy it off my shoulders.
I pause, wondering if he wants to peruse my upper half before seeing all of me, but a curt nod of his head has me pulling the zipper of my skirt down too.
As it pools around my heels, I hear his sharp intake of breath.
Maybe he didn’t realize exactly what was under the skirt.
His warm hands find their way around my waist, and I watch as my breasts rise and fall in the mirror.
He steps flush behind me, and I feel his hard dick nestled above the seam of my ass.
One hand splays across my lower belly, and I resist the urge to suck in.
His cock tells me he doesn’t have a problem with what he sees or feels.
His other hand roams up between my breasts, dancing across my collarbone before settling around my throat.
His eyes flit around me like he can’t see enough at once.
“Look at you,” he coos in my ear. “You came to work today in a bustier and a garter belt? Now I know you’re up to no good. Don’t even try to deny it. Nobody but a whore would come in here dressed like this.”
His fingertips dance, one hand roaming across the swells of my breasts, down my ticklish sides, across my outer thigh, and back across my ass cheek. The other holds me tightly against him, still across my lower stomach, and his pinky finger begins to dip underneath the band of my thong.
“I think,” he whispers hotly into my ear, “that you wanted to wear this to work today so your boss would fuck you. Like I fuck all my secretaries. Isn’t that what you accused me of earlier, Blanche?
And you’re not wrong, but you love to run your mouth…
I prefer when it’s too full to talk. That’s certainly when you’re the most useful. ”
Fuck. This man knows exactly how to push all my buttons.
I knew when he flipped on me in the hotel room that whatever he took from me, he’d dish out tenfold.
He jerks me from my thoughts with a swift kick to the inside of each of my feet, spreading my legs and forcing me to lean over the sink for balance.
“Eyes up. Look at yourself.”
I focus on my blown pupils, parted lips, flushed chest…I look debauched. I look sexy.
His hands are both exploring now, teasing brushes mixed in with handfuls of flesh he can’t seem to stop grabbing.
My legs shake as he makes his way up the inside of one thigh, so close to where I need him before detouring away from anywhere I’ll find relief.
A whine escapes before I can swallow it, and he chuckles.
“Do you want something, slut? I haven’t done anything but touch you, and you’re whining for me? Just a little something across your clit? Or are you whining for something to fill up that dripping pussy?”
I’m still leaning over the sink when he presses back into me, his dick so close to rubbing where I need relief. If only his stupid pants weren’t in the way…
“What a gorgeous thing you are. Coming to work for me, getting in my way, making my days about nothing but you. This soft skin, those beautiful eyes. I could spend every day of my life counting the freckles across your nose.”
His breathing is faster now too, and his lips move ever close to my skin as he breathes into my neck.
“You make it impossible to get any work done, and for what? So you can drag me into the water like the siren that you are?” I arch back into him, unable to help the way his words affect me.
“You’re nowhere near desperate enough for me to touch you again. The next time I take you, you’ll be crying and begging before I give you this cock,” he says.
And then he’s gone, and I’m half naked, panting, bent over the sink, and dripping between my thighs.
How dare he think that I’ll come back to him begging?
If he thinks I’m going to break first, he’s clearly got no clue who he’s messing with.
Clearly, we can’t exist in platonic peace at work, but if we’re going down in a blaze of lust, I certainly won’t be the one to crack. Henry Sinclair will.