Her mouth pops open, but I don’t allow her the opportunity to waste anymore of my time and stride to the back near the elevator.
Marge smiles as I approach. “Headed out, sir?”
“I am. When will the package be delivered?”
“Within the next hour. I’ll make sure to give it to the recipient at the proper time.”
I nod and tap the button. “Allow the rest of the staff to go home if they need to. The weather is worsening.”
Marge wastes no time pulling up a blank email and begins typing out the announcement. “Anything else, sir?”
I run my tongue over my teeth, shoving a hand in my pocket as I contemplate telling her about Miss Cartier. She’ll need to train the new assistant, after all. But as I open my mouth, the elevator door dings and slides open.
“Will I see you tonight, Marge?” I ask instead.
She grins as she finishes up the email, a knowing twinkle in her eye that has me slightly curious. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
I’ve been in the shower longer than normal, and even the scalding water working into my muscles does little to ease the tension—to ebb the images of my redheaded assistant inches from my cock.
It’s nothing new for me to think of her in submissive positions, nor is it foreign for me to find my length as it is now, hard and throbbing to feel her. But the knowledge she may no longer be working for me heightens my arousal, and tonight, it seems as if I can no longer ignore it.
For the seventh time since I’ve known the woman, I relinquish my control on my emotions, and let them take over.
With one hand flat against the subway tile, I let the other fall to grip around the base of my dick. With my eyes closed, Presley’s soft face appears, only instead of sitting in a chair in front of my desk, she’s on her knees, restrained and bound in a Hishi box tie. Her wet mouth parted and so close to my cock, I can feel her warm breath coast along my length.
Just the visual of her squirming against the restraints, the tremor working through her as she fights for friction where she wants it the most. The inevitable blush painting her body shades of rose as she gives in to letting me own her pleasure...
My hand moves faster, a heat blooming low in my spine as my blood soars, rushing through my ears and drowning out the sound of the water splashing against my back. Deep, guttural groans escape me one at a time, until finally searing white heat erupts through my body, blurring the image of my pet with streaks of vibrant colors.
The other hand joins the one on the wall while I allow my lungs to catch up with my racing heart, and my muscles relax. After I wash up and exit the shower, I notice a text lighting up my phone’s screen that makes me smirk.
Marge: Delivery made, sir.
Right about now, her face will be red as she paces in front of her desk, that inner monologue of hers urging her not to accept my gift. But in the end, the secret desire to please me will win out. And that will be the last thing I need to know that what I have planned for this evening will in fact happen.
After that, she’s mine, and there won’t be any going back.
I t took way longer than I anticipated, but the thirteenth floor is complete, and if I do say so myself, it’s utterly stunning. Everything is perfect, and I might go so far as to say I’m excited about attending, even though I'll have to shadow Chen and work.
I mean, this could be my last one, after all.
Replaying the phone conversation in my head on repeat, I hum as my nerves dance frantically throughout my body.
I got the call. I got the freaking call!
If disposing of bags and a plethora of trash in under five minutes was part of the Olympics, I’d be taking home the gold medal. I wave a quick goodbye to Monica before racing up the two flights of stairs to get to Charlotte’s office. She’d been gone all afternoon with meetings, but promised she’d be back before the party to finish up some emails.
While I’m not sure if I expect anything, I damn sure don’t expect what I open up the stair access door to.
The entire floor is empty. Every damn desk. Even the custodial cart in the corner is left unmanned.
What the hell?
Before I can register the anger working through my veins that everyone went home and no one even had the decency to text me, I notice Charlotte’s office light on. The annoyance disintegrates immediately as I take long steps to her door.
Inside, Charlotte is staring intently at her computer, her warm brown skin glowing from the bright screen. Her eyes scan something while her freshly manicured hands work on peeling a tangerine. I watch her struggle to peel it open for at least a minute before she resorts to pulling a bobby pin from her grey coils and using it to pierce into the fruit.
I knock softly on the doorframe. “Need a hand?”
Charlotte’s shoulders drop, a relieved sigh filling the air as she tosses it to me. “Please. I was about ready to throw the damned thing across the room.”
Laughing, my nimble fingers work quickly, stripping the skin and handing her the naked tangerine before tossing the peel in the trash. “Do you know where everyone is?”
“You didn’t get the email, dear? Roman sent everyone home early so they'll have enough time to dress and make it back. The weather’s getting fairly nasty and will get much worse before it gets better, but it should stop in a few hours.”
My eyes flash to the windows behind her, and I realize just how long I've been on the thirteenth floor. Everything is covered in a blanket of snow, and with the amount still pummeling from the dense clouds, I can only imagine there will be at least six inches by tonight. Just another reason why I should be home watching Krampus or something.
“You didn’t get the email?”
My gaze shoots back to her, my brows drawing down in confusion. “No.”
Grabbing my phone, I flip through the last dozen emails I’ve gotten today and none of which are about leaving early. I grunt, flopping down in the oversized upholstered chair in front of her desk.
Charlotte tilts her head and purses her ruby lips, but after a moment, she smirks and leans forward, resting her chin on a loosely clenched fist. “How was your day? Did you hear back from anyone?”
“Oh!” I perk up, my excitement back in full effect. “Allure called! Not only are they going to buy my article, but they are also going to feature it!”
“Get out! Tell me everything, dear.”
“They said they couldn’t offer me anything permanent right this minute, but they absolutely devoured my article, and when she found out I edited it by myself, she asked me to edit a few sample articles as well.”
“Congratulations! I knew you’d get a bite! You’re a phenomenal writer. And your sincere passion behind it only makes it all the better.”
Her praise fills my chest with pride, and I have to swipe away the sudden tears burning the brim of my eyelids. “It wouldn’t be possible without you. Thank you, Mrs. Wessinger.”