Chapter 15 I've been staring out my window all morning after my breakfast with Liora when Alesha pops her head into my office. "Can we please get rid of your new assistant?" That catches my attention, and I spin around to face her, my hands on my lap. "Why?" Liora mentioned that Alesha is jealous of my past relationship with her, and it's clear as day to anyone that Alesha doesn't like her. But I wonder if there's something else. "Because she's incompetent," she snips, entering my office uninvited and shutting the door behind her. Boldly, she walks over to me and sits on the corner of my desk, crossing her legs in her skirt and allowing it to rise up to her mid-thigh. I don't look, not even the least bit tempted, and she frowns. Alesha is older than me by at least five or so years. When I hired her, she was still married. This flirting or sexual advances, or whatever you want to call it, didn't start until her divorce was finalized about six months ago. I've been ignoring it, but since Liora came on, she's upped her game. "How is she incompetent?" I ask. Other than being new and knowing nothing about cybersecurity, everyone else on the floor seems to adore Liora. She's sweet and personable, and I happen to know she adjusts things on my calendar for my staff when they need it. "Come on, Vander. You know she is. She doesn't know the first thing about cybersecurity. More than that, she's creating issues. She removed my access to your calendar, and when I confronted her about it, she said you're the only person who should have access." That stops me for a minute. I had no clue Alesha-or anyone else, for that matter-had access to my calendar. Not that it has anything on there but work shit, but still. Liora removed her access to protect me and my need for space and privacy. Champagne must have allowed it, as no one else could have. Alesha continues to rant on about ten things she feels Liora is doing wrong, which are either bullshit or aren't part of her job description. "I understand she's your ex-girlfriend or whatever, but⁠-" "That's not why I hired her." She likes that response and bends forward a little, trying to tempt me with a peek of cleavage, and I just can't with this. I just can't. "She's right about my calendar, Alesha. No one should have access but me." She flushes, growing defensive. "There are more issues than just the calendar. You know that." "I'll speak to her." Because I didn't mention Vega or her father the other day, and I need another read on her. At least that's what I'm telling myself. At breakfast we didn't talk about work. We didn't talk about Lavender Lake or her family or mine either. We fought over movies and music, and she asked me about my drumming. It was fun, and it felt like a date despite my saying it wasn't. Alesha touches her chest. "You'll do that for me? You'll fire her?" "No. I said I'd speak to her. I never mentioned firing her, nor do I plan to. And any conversation I have with my assistant is for me to have and not you or anyone else. And if I discover that you're being rude or disrespectful to her, you and I will have a problem." "But Vander⁠-" "You can go now. Thanks for bringing your issues to my attention. I'll speak with her about them now." With a pinch of her lips, she quietly gets her bony ass off my desk and leaves my office. My phone sits quietly on my desk, and I pick it up. Me: Will you come in here for a few minutes? I need to talk to you about something. Angel: And that's something you can't do via text or phone? I sigh. This girl. Me: Obviously not if I'm asking you to come in here. Angel: I'll be right there, sir. Brat. A minute later, she's at my door holding her iPad against a hideous floral dress that's a little too big. All of her clothes are like this. Ill-fitting and old. My teeth are set on edge. "What are you wearing?" She sighs. "I spilled soup all over my sweater and pants and had to change. Thankfully I had a spare outfit here." "Close the door." She does, walking awkwardly in her shoes that are as ugly and beat up as her dress. I noticed them this morning and hated them then. "Are your feet okay?" Then something hits me. Was she dancing last night? Is that why she's walking like that? She stops and glances down at her feet, only to laugh. "Um, yeah. My shoes are a little tight." "Come here," I practically growl and tap the edge of my desk where Alesha was just sitting. "What? No. Why?" "Not everything has to be a fight, Liora. Just come here." She does her best to walk like her feet aren't killing her, but it's a hard sell. "Will it hold my weight?" she asks as she stares warily at the glass. "Do you think I'd let you sit on it otherwise?" I get a cheeky smirk. "One never knows with you." I roll my eyes and point, and dutifully she sits, crossing her legs the way Alesha did, but adjusting her awful dress so it doesn't ride up. Except that's not going to fly with me. Rolling over to her, I grab her feet and set them in my lap, startling her. "What are you doing?" I slip her shoes off one by one and drop them to the floor. "Were you dancing last night?" I ask as I start to rub at the red lines indented into her small feet. She always had such cute, small feet with bubblegum pink toenails. Now her toenails are bare, and her feet are overworked. Her breath hitches as I get to a particularly sore spot, her eyes on my hands as I work her feet. "Is that what you called me in for? To ask about my feet and if I was out dancing last night?" "Just answer me." "Vander, what are you doing..." Her voice trails off, and her eyes practically roll back into her head as a soft moan escapes her lips. "God, that feels good." Before I know what the fuck I'm doing, or maybe because I have little to no self-control when it comes to her, I slide her on the desk and shift her around until her legs are no longer crossed and she's sitting directly in front of me. Her eyes snap open wide, her jaw slipping as I work the balls of her feet while spreading her thighs wider for me. "What are you doing? We can't." "I hate you in that dress. I hate you in these shoes. I hate you fucking dancing." She shakes her head, her blonde hair bouncing around her arms and chest. "That's not your call to make. None of it is. My life, my choices." She's right, and I hate that too. It's driving me crazy. I want to dress her in beautiful and expensive things that only I get to take off her. I want her beneath me, writhing in ecstasy as I make her come over and over again. I want my name on her lips and all that fear and all those dark shadows beneath her eyes eradicated forever. The only thing Liora James should know is fucking happiness because despite the shit hand she's been playing for far too long, she's all smiles and laughter and teasing jokes. She's goddamn sunshine, and that's the only thing that should ever be in her life. Not darkness. I'm an idiot. She could be out to hurt me, but instinctively I don't think she is. I don't think that's who she is. Still, it's so difficult for me not to be jaded after what happened at MIT. They were my friends. My closest there. I trusted them. And then they betrayed me. But it wasn't just a knife to the back. It was shackles on my wrists and ankles and orange jumpsuits. It was a universal wake-up call to be wary and distrustful because everyone, fucking everyone, has their own agenda. My thumbs dig in, rubbing circles into her soft flesh. I'm hard and mesmerized by her response. "How did this become your life? Do you really have nothing to do with your family?" She tries to jerk her feet away, but I'm not letting them go. Instead, I widen her legs until they're on either side of my hips, and I can see straight up her dress to the scrap of satin covering her pussy. Then I move my ministrations up to her calves. "Fuck." Her eyes close and her head falls back, and Christ, she is fucking stunning. "Please stop doing this, and please never stop." She shakes her head. "Why are you asking me things and touching me like this?" I don't have an answer. I honestly don't. She's near me, and I touch her. It's how I seem to be programmed. It's how I was always programmed. My best friend told me he'd kill me if I ever touched his little sister, and still I couldn't stay away. "Answer me." "No. I won't talk to you about it, so don't ask. You can rub me till your fingers fall off, but that won't change." Interesting. And alarming, considering the visit from Vega. I shouldn't be touching her for more reasons than she's my assistant. She has power over me, something I've given to no one else, and it seems whatever secrets she has exploit that. My hands continue to rub and knead, climbing higher. "Tell me about your ex." "What's there to tell, ah-" My fingers tickle over her panties, her pussy so warm with a sweet little wet spot staining them right over her cunt. "Put your hands back on the desk and open your thighs wider for me." She glances toward the door, but I've already pressed the button that tints the glass to opaque, and the door is shut. No one can see her, and no one ever enters when my door is closed, at least not without knocking. Her hands fall back to the glass, her hips angling up and toward me. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Now tell me." "I can't talk about him while you're doing that." "Yes, you can." I scoot her closer to the edge of the desk where her pussy is right in front of me. Then I go back to massaging her feet because I want her to tell me something true, and I think this is one she will. I'm planning to do things to him, but I need to know how far I should go with them. "I met him in California," she starts. "He works for a pharmaceutical company and used to come into the hospital I worked in. He was nice and charming and spoke with an accent that made all the nurses swoon. He asked me out, and we started dating and I was dumb and young and slept with him too soon." "Did you love him?" "I don't know. I told myself I did, but when I got pregnant with Hazel, I felt trapped and scared instead of excited and happy. Then we moved to Boston, which was one of the last places I wanted to be." "Why?" She shakes her head, and I move back to her pussy, no longer able to stay away. My finger glides up and down her slit over the satin, getting it nice and wet so she'll feel it long after I'm done with her. A shudder runs through her, and she bites her lip. "I shouldn't let you do this. We said one time and then done." "Do you want me to stop?" Her blue eyes burn into mine, and finally she shakes her head. "He left you." She groans, annoyed I keep pestering her with my questions. "Yes. He left. He told me he was going back to Italy for work and to visit his family. He said he'd only be gone a week or so. A day after he left, I got the bills from our credit cards. I panicked. I thought someone had stolen our cards, but when I went to our bank account that he had us combine two months prior, it was empty. My student loan money was gone too. When I called him, his phone was disconnected, and I haven't heard from him since." I nearly smile at that. Now I can ruin him and not feel like a psycho for it. "Thank you for telling me that." I flip her dress up to her hips, pull her panties to the side, and slip two fingers straight into her. So fucking wet and tight, my cock thrums. "Put your feet on the arms of my chair, Angel." "Vander," she moans. "Jesus. This is becoming a bad habit for us." It is. She's not wrong. "Can I trust you?" Her eyes flare, and she parries, "Can I trust you?" back at me. Touché. She's keeping things from me, and I'm keeping things from her. And maybe right now, I want to keep this Agent Vega thing close to my chest until I get a better sense of what's going on. Until I'm able to dig a little deeper and find out a bit more. "We're not doing this again," she pants, rocking into my hand as I twist my wrist so my thumb can rub her clit while I finger her. "Agreed." "Ah, fuck," she cries, only to temper the volume of her voice as I pick up my pace. I might be agreeing, but I don't know how long I'll be able to go without another hit of her. I can't stand how pretty her pussy is and how incredible she smells or the way she feels or the noises she makes for me or how fucking stunning she is when she comes for me. "I don't understand what you're doing." "What do you mean?" I chuckle, kissing along the inside of her knees. "I thought this was pretty self-explanatory. I'm making you come. It's third base, remember?" "But you're not trying to fuck me." "No." Because if I'm like this with her now, I'll be a million times worse if I fuck her. If I feel her body wrapped around mine with me inside her, there will be no coming back from that for me. Especially if I fuck her the way I want to fuck her. "Isn't that what men always want?" I smile against her skin and nibble on it. "I didn't say I didn't want to fuck you, Angel. I'm simply not. You're used to weak men who take without care or thought. That's not how I operate. Why? Is that what you want?" I thrust my fingers in and out, adding a third and crooking them up so I hit her G-spot. Sucking two fingers on my other hand into my mouth, I rub the wet digits on her clit. "Do you want me to stand up and yank you off this desk, spin you around, lift your ugly dress, and thrust deep inside of you?" Her eyes close and she bites her lip, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving as her hands struggle to hold up her weight. She's dripping all over my hands, and the walls of her pussy are growing tighter, more sensitive. She's close, and it makes my cock pulse. "Yes," she moans. "I do. I want that. I want to feel you like that. But I also don't." I pull my fingers from her and stand. Her eyes flash open, and she watches me. I have no idea what I'm doing. We're at work in the middle of the day, and this is easily one of the riskiest things I've ever done here, which is saying something. I hold my finger, wet and covered in her pussy, up to my lips. "You can't make a sound." She shivers and squirms, but I'm not going to fuck her. No matter how much I'm dying to. Behind her are my keyboard and a monitor, and that won't work. So I move her to the edge where there's nothing but open glass and use the flat of my hand to push her back. I'm dying for her tits. Like seriously fucking dying for them. I'd love nothing more than to rip this hideous dress from her, but she has to go back to work after this, and so do I. I wrap her thighs around my waist and adjust her so her pussy is lined up with my hard dick that's straining through my pants. I don't take myself out. And this won't be the most comfortable or even enough for me, but if my dick touches her bare pussy, it'll be over, and I can't do that. So with my eyes on hers, I grind myself up until the head of my cock and the silky fabric of my pants hit her clit. Her eyes glaze over, and she props herself up on her elbows so she can see better. "Vander. Holy shit." She moans as I do it again. "What is that?" She's feeling my piercings. She doesn't know it, but that's what it is. My piercings are rubbing her and rolling in me, and it's so good while not being nearly enough. "I said shhh." My office is soundproof, but she doesn't know that, and I like this game. She emits a shaky laugh. "Not sure how I'll do that, but I'll try. Do I get fired for dry fucking the boss and coming too loudly?" I smile, momentarily thinking about how Alesha wanted me to fire her. That's why I called her in, isn't it? To talk to her. Except Alesha is jealous, and Liora, for only being here such a short amount of time, is doing better than I expected her to. Bending forward, I press her down into the glass, putting us face-to-face. "You're not getting away from me that easily. Now be a good little angel and come all over my cock and pants. I want to see a big, wet spot from you. You did that to me once. Do you remember?" She nods, her eyes pinching tight. "You were sitting on my lap in the back seat of the car while your brother was driving, and all my friends were around us. You kept wiggling on my hard dick, driving me crazy. I played with your clit." I reach between us and tap it. "Like that. And you came on me. I had those jeans on my face every time I jerked off for a week after until they lost your smell." "Oh, god." She moans. "Fuck." She rubs harder against me as I grind and thrust and dry fuck into her pussy. "We have to do that again, Angel. No one can know what I'm doing to you in here. No sound." Her grip tightens, and I can feel her wetness soaking my pants, and I'm not sure I've ever been this turned on in my life. Seeing her up close like this. Feeling her tits crushed against my chest. Having her squirm and move and fuck up into me, desperate for the pleasure only I can give her. "That's it." My forearms meet the glass on either side of her head, and I move harder, using my thighs and ass muscles to really dig into her. I'm close too. So fucking close, I know I'm going to come with her. I won't even try to stop it. Her hands grip the back of my hair and shoulder, and she holds on as I take her like this, watching her blissed-out expression. "Are you going to come too?" I suck on her bottom lip, refusing to kiss her but nibbling and tasting all the same. "Yes." "Ah. Yes. Oh my god, I'm going to come. Shit, Vander, I'm on your desk at work and I'm going to come." I'd laugh at that if I weren't two seconds from blowing my load in my pants like a teenager. "All over me, Angel. I mean it." "Shit." She bites my lip, and I cover hers with mine to muffle her sounds as she arches and moans and writhes beneath me, against me, milking my own orgasm from me that comes faster than I wanted. I wanted to watch her finish, but there's no stopping it. The feel of her like this is out of this world and my balls tighten as pleasure skyrockets through me, shooting jets of cum all over the inside of my briefs and pants. She feels it too, and it sets her off. Her nails dig into my shoulder and scalp as she continues to ride me. The moment we're both done and she sags, I pull back and stare down at the sight before me. Her legs spread wide, her cunt flushed and swollen and wet. My slacks with a large, dark stain on them, both of our cum mixed together. It's the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. She adjusts her panties and closes her legs as she pushes herself up. I help her get the rest of the way there and to stand. Her eyes, cautious and insanely blue, meet mine. "Will anything between us ever be healthy or normal?" I cup her face in my hand, staring into her, but I have no answer I can give. Even as it hits me like a shot to the chest. I want to say yes. I want to be everything that's right instead of wrong with her. I'm just not sure that's possible for us.