Kate’s legs got that watery I’m-going-to-collapse-underneath-you feeling. God, what was happening? She was supposed to slink in, drop the note on Ty’s desk and slink away, leaving him with nothing but a great view of her butt and the uncontrollable urge to check out her Kinkworld profile. How in the hell had it come to this? “I don’t…this isn’t about me doing that to you. Not that I’m doing that to you, I’m not doing anything to you. Or anyone.”
Ty sighed, picked up his tumbler and drained the whole thing before putting it down with a clunk. “Shut my door.”
Kate stared at him. “Do you mean…with me on the other side of it?”
Another, even more cumbersome, sigh. “I mean, shut that door so that you and I are alone in the same fucking room and hurry up about it because I’m getting impatient.”
Without thinking, Kate turned and shut the door. The latch clicked neatly into place, sealing her in a confined area with Tyler Henderson.
“Middleton.” His voice was rough and smooth, smoke and raw honey. “Walk your ass over here.”
Kate’s body prickled all over and again she obeyed his words before her brain could even process them, taking small, neat steps towards him the way she had when she was the flower girl at her sister’s wedding. The air between her and Ty seemed to surge with an energy that grew stronger with each forward pace. Music poured from his computer, mingling with the electric air, a woman with a throaty voice singing about the devil in a way that felt both prophetic and highly appropriate.
“So…” Tyler Henderson said, tugging his black silk tie so that the knot loosened around his neck. “Here we are again.”
“And that’s…where, exactly?”
“You know exactly where. Look at me.”
She looked at him, or rather his chin, which was as far up as her line of vision could go.
“You came waltzing in here to ask me to turn you out,” Ty said quietly. “The least you can do is look me in the eyes.”
Kate inhaled, and with all her remaining strength, managed to meet his gaze.
Ty’s irises weren’t the colour of lived-in denim anymore, they were the bright blue of an electrical fire. As their eyes locked she felt a surge arc through her body, excitement so all-encompassing she could barely breathe. He was giving her a look no boss would give their employee unless they wanted a one-way ticket to sexual-harrassmentville. It said she’d been a bad girl and he wanted to punish her for it. Kate’s nipples went stiff against her bra, dampness saturated the cotton between her legs. Ever since Bendigo she hadn’t been able to get herself off and yet now, without Ty doing or saying anything, Kate knew she could have shoved her hands into her panties and been there inside a couple of strokes. It was black magic. Evil magic. “W-What now?” she asked.
“Now, we discuss why you’re here.” Ty reached beneath his desk and pulled out a bottle with red wax around the rim. He filled his tumbler slowly, as though he had all the time in the world. The thin trickle of liquid sounded as loud as a waterfall. A white spot burst in front of her eyes and if she could have gotten away with slapping herself, she would have.
Ty took a swig of what she assumed was whiskey, wincing slightly, as though it was a strong but necessary medicine. “So,” he said again. “I tell you it’s a bad idea for us to fuck each other and you decide a good way to respect that decision would be to wear fuck-me clothes to work and show me your ass at every given opportunity. Walk me through that reasoning, Middleton.”
Kate said nothing. Heat was prickling all over her, as though her blood was trying to force its way through her skin like sweat.
“Gone shy, have you?” Ty asked. “Weren’t so shy when you bent over the printer without any panties on.”
And she’d been silly enough to wonder if he’d noticed. She licked her upper lip. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh yeah?” Ty put his hands behind his head and reclined in his chair. “I don’t believe you. I think you enjoyed getting me all cranked up, knowing I couldn’t do anything about it.”
Kate could barely believe her ears. He’d given no indication, none, that he’d so much as noticed her new wardrobe, let alone that it had gotten him hot and bothered. “I promise I wasn’t—”
“Don’t play dumb.”
Kate remembered they were alone, that the entire floor—maybe the whole building—was empty. Her heartbeat thumped inside her ears. “I’m not playing dumb, I don’t know what you mean.”
“So you didn’t come here tonight to ask me to screw you? And you haven’t been wearing sexy clothes to work because you want me to change my mind about the two of us and plant my dick between your legs?”
Kate opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Ty gave another world-weary sigh. “What am I gonna do with you, girl?”
The words were uttered in the same dark tone men spoke in Kate’s mind when they announced she was going to be spanked. She extended a foot backward.
“Don’t move,” Ty said calmly and she froze. “I—”
“Don’t speak either.”
She pulled her lower lip into her mouth, everything inside her was suddenly very still.
Ty tossed back his drink, reached under his desk for the bottle and refilled his tumbler. Dimly, Kate tried to memorise the shape, the colours on the label. She didn’t like any hard liquor but rum, but she’d go to Dan Murphy’s and buy a bottle just to taste the way he tasted right now.
Ty took another swallow from his tumbler and swiped a hand over his mouth. “You came here tonight looking to get your little off-limits pussy played with, is that right?”
“No, I—”
“Don’t lie.” Ty’s blue eyes were hard as stone. “Don’t lie to me and don’t try and explain what I already know. Just answer the question.”
Kate licked her lips again. She’d done this so many times in the past hour, they were starting to grow puffy. The lips between her legs felt exactly the same way only wetter. Her fear of disobeying him was melding into the excitement of knowing this was all in his hands, that he could use her as he wished, command her to do anything he wanted.
“Yes,” she heard herself say. “I came here for that.”
“I know.” Ty tapped the rim of his tumbler in time with the music, clink, clink, clink. He was looking through her into nothingness, weighing something up in his mind. Kate wanted to argue her case but she just stood there, still and silent. Waiting.
Ty ran a hand through his hair, the gold strands falling like waves of wheat. “When you decided to experiment with clothes that get my dick hard, you know what you did, Middleton?”
Kate shook her head.
“You went from being the office sweetheart to the girl everyone pictures getting dressed in the morning. If I broke up one conversation about your legs, I did it a million times.”
Kate inhaled. Surely that wasn’t right? Not only had she not caught anyone perving but you’d think that response would have inspired some of the guys to be nice to her, not act like she was carrying blood-borne pathogens.
“Wasn’t enjoyable,” Ty said, unaware of her confusion. “Wasn’t fun watching every other fucker in this office pant after you. I didn’t appreciate it one bit. Don’t appreciate much of anything you’ve done since I told you you weren’t getting my cock. So here’s what I’m thinking…”
He rapped a knuckle on the desk, the sound sharp as a starter’s pistol. “Take off that ridiculous skirt, lie your ass across my lap and we’ll see what I can teach you about obeying orders.”
Silence. Except for the guitar music swelling from Ty’s computer, Kate couldn’t hear a thing. Not her own breathing, not her heartbeat, nothing. “Wouldn’t we get in trouble?”
He shrugged. “If we got caught, but seeing as you’ve done everything but hire a skywriter to spell ‘fuck me, Tyler Henderson’ in the clouds, I assume you’re willing to take that risk. Now lose the skirt and come lie on Daddy’s lap.”
&nbs
p; The word was like an electric shock, a vibration zapping her cheeks to nipples to clit. Before she knew what was happening Kate’s hands were moving, her fingers fumbling with the catch, her zipper unknitting itself. Ty’s smile when he saw what lay beneath her monkeys and bananas skirt was almost gentle. “You little prick-tease.”
Kate looked down at her frilly white panties, her knee length black socks and Mary Janes. It was a bit evocative. She was half proud of herself for anticipating that this might happen, half terrified of what was coming next.
“Middleton,” Ty said. “Come and get spanked before I decide I’m better off tying you to my desk and doing things to you that’ll make you wish you never had the guts to come here.”
Kate flinched. It was as though he was reaching into her mind and pulling out one of her prized fantasies, the one where he fastened thick manacles around her wrists and chained her to his office chair. She would lay by his feet like a pet, naked and content, and when he needed sexual gratification, he’d yank down his fly and urge her mouth onto him. She would happily suck even if he was on the phone or dealing with a client, she would do it as though it was her only purpose because it was.
For a moment, the possibility of doing in it real life hung before her like a beautiful moon, then fear burned up her insides. The good-bad dichotomy of such fantasies couldn’t be erased. It was aching desire with self-loathing forever snapping at its tail. It was hard having such dark wants, it would be even trickier to share them. Having a depraved sexual encounter with Ty was all she ever wanted, but she couldn’t help thinking this wasn’t the right time. He might be drunk or confused and there was no way of knowing if someone from work would find them…
Ty stood up, reacquainting her with how tall he was, how handsome and insanely intimidating. He pointed as his desk. “I’m done watching you quiver on my carpet like a scared rabbit. Bend over the desk right now.”
Kate’s ass cheeks tingled. “What are you going to do?”
“What I wanted to do the minute I met you. Get over here.”
It was strange, that moment. As though after hours and hours of sensory panic, her body had to plunge for new responses. Kate looked at him, beautiful and terrifying and felt the calm of knowing exactly what to do. She took a deep breath. “Mr Henderson, I really want to play with you, but I can’t right now. I came here because I wanted to give you something and until I do, I don’t think we should, um, get down to business.”
Ty didn’t look angry, but his face changed. Something previously opened, closed. “What did you want to give me?”
Kate bent over and pulled the little wad of paper from her discarded skirt. “This.”
“You wrote me a note?”
“Er, yes.”
Ty shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Hand it over, then.”
She strode toward him painfully aware of her bare thighs, the saturated material between her legs and placed the note on the edge of the desk.
“I should go,” she said, wondering if it would look silly if she backed away while facing him so he wouldn’t see her butt .
“Middleton,” Ty’s voice was slightly strained. “What the hell is going on?”
Kate licked her puffy lips for what felt like the millionth time. They were cracked now, she’d have to slather them with pawpaw cream once she was back at her desk. “I want you and I think you want me, but if we’re going to do this we should do it properly, with rules and a safe word and a room that isn’t where we work. That’s why I wrote you the note.”
Ty closed his eyes. “Go, then. I’ll read your note and I’ll tell you what I think.”
Kate dutifully backed away. When she turned so her ass was exposed to him, Ty made a noise that might have come from a riled-up bull. “Are you trying to drive me out of my goddamn mind, Middleton?”
Something in his choice of words sparked a fire in her. She looked at him over her shoulder. “You know my name isn’t Middleton.”
“Then what am I supposed to call you?”
“That would depend on what we were doing, Daddy.”
Knowing she would never in a million years think of a better exit line, she scooped up her skirt and slunk—actually goddamn slunk—her ass out of Tyler Henderson’s office.
Chapter 6
As he picked up the bottle he’d been absently pouring from, Ty realised it was damn near empty. He held it high as he trickled the last of it into his tumbler. It gleamed as it caught the light, like a butterscotch river.
He was drunk again, at work no fucking less. Although, if he was honest with himself—and you could be honest with yourself when you were drunk—he wasn’t that surprised. When he’d walked through the front doors that morning, he’d already been thinking about the bottle in his desk, the big comfy couch in the staff kitchen, and the change of clothes he kept in his closet.
Ever since his fiancée left, Ty had been having solo slumber parties in his office once or twice a month. The cliché of the workaholic sleeping at his desk wasn’t one he enjoyed, but fuck, some nights he just couldn’t handle going home. He’d bought his place cheap when he was in his twenties, a moldering townhouse by the beach. He’d fixed it up while he slept in the kitchen, the only room that didn’t leak. It had been his pride and joy, his sanctuary from the world. Then Veronica had moved in and he’d let her make her mark; paint the walls, buy new furniture, turn his downstairs study into a gym. Some nights it was too hard to come home and see her books still stacked on his shelf, eat at the Magnus Oakwood table she’d picked out, look at the breakfast nook she’d painted sorbet yellow even though he’d told her it looked like an alcoholic’s piss. She’d laughed, when he said that, laughed and told him, ‘You’re an asshole, Tyler now come over here and kiss me.’
GGS was only five minutes away from Ty’s favourite Chinese place, and it had no memories of Veronica embedded in its walls. He could relax here in a way he couldn’t relax at home. Gave him a shorter commute in the morning, as well. The only issue was the hangover he always had the next day. It wasn’t the alcohol—although there was always plenty of that—it was the guilt, the voice in his head that said he was being a coward.
Just buy some fucking paint, he told himself. Buy some paint and chuck out the fucking table.
But that was hard and sleeping at the office was easy and easy had a way of presenting itself as the best option at the end of another long, miserable day. Tonight Ty had almost convinced himself to go home when the text had arrived from Georgie. As soon as he saw the row of scowling emojis, his stomach had shrunk to the size of a gumball. It was exactly the news he thought it would be.
Medusa had her baby, Georgie had written. Pics are doing the rounds on social media if you want to avoid. Come over for dinner tonight, we can drink to Veronica’s formerly sound vagina xxx
Ty had laughed, but he didn’t reply. He couldn’t spend the night with Georgie and her husband talking about Veronica until he felt even more frustrated and pathetic. He also couldn’t go home and look at that piss-nook. So, he’d waited until everyone had left for the night and started drinking.
He and Veronica had met at a rooftop party on New Year’s Eve. Mutual friends had tried to set them up for months, and when he finally saw her Ty wished he’d agreed to it sooner. They ate oysters and drank champagne, he kissed her at midnight and fucked her at three in the morning. He’d had a good feeling about the year ahead.
Veronica’s wild spontaneity had been a balm to the wounds that forced him to retire from firefighting. He had no time to be depressed when he was flying to Thailand or hiking to the tops of unknown mountains up north. Veronica had loved champagne, big parties and travel, he loved not talking about his problems and being anywhere besides home. They were a match. He remembered when she told him she loved him. They’d been in a tiny bar in Spain, her lips had been stained burgundy with Tempranillo.
“I love you, too,” he’d said, and for the first time, no
voice in the back of his head asked if he really meant it.
A few months later, Veronica moved in with him, mingling her record collection and coffee mugs with his. He’d been forty then and she’d been thirty-two, and they’d been so happy, so wrapped up in one another, they made all their friends sick with envy. Ty started saving up for a ring.
They were eighteen months in when Veronica asked, in an offhand voice, if he wanted to have kids. They’d been eating dim-sum in front of the TV, and she hadn’t even turned to look at him. Lulled by the casual setting, Ty had told the truth far more bluntly than he usually would. “Nope.”
Veronica laughed. “That simple, huh?”
“Yup. Never wanted ‘em. Can’t understand why people do, to be honest.”
“Is it…do you think that’s because you don’t know any kids?”
Alarm bells had gone off then, the loud clanging ones that called the crew to attention in the fire house. Ty muted the TV. “Veronica, I have six nieces and nephews, and half our friends have kids. I know plenty of kids and I was joking before, I can understand the appeal. It’s just not something I want.”
“Why?”
Ty had scratched his head, trying to give himself time to phrase it right. “You know me, babe, I like sex and reading books on Sundays, going to lunch and ordering another bottle of wine just because you can. I want to see movies any night of the week and travel on a dime. Kids feel like they were specifically designed to stop me from doing what I like to do.”
Panic welled in Veronica’s ocean-green eyes. “You can travel and do fun things when you have kids!”
Ty had felt like the world was falling out from under his feet. All this time and he’d never asked. Why hadn’t he asked? Why had he assumed she felt the way he did?
“Babe,” he said as gently as possible. “No, you can’t. Just ask my brothers, ask my parents, ask any parents. To be a good dad, I’d need to want it more than I want anything else and when I think about having a baby…” He shook his head as the usual claustrophobia rose up inside him, thick and full of cold mucus . “I know it’s not for me.”