My witty retort was lost in the flutter of fabric up and over my head, and then Neil's hands and mouth were on my breasts, and I didn't care if the entire world was watching.
Chapter Seven
We were in the soft, comfy hotel bed, my head on Neil's shoulder as he lazily stroked my hair. The only light in the suite was the fluorescent glow of the New York night outside the window, and the pale blue from the alarm clock's stupid, stupid face.
"It's one o'clock," I groaned. I didn't want to leave the bed. I wanted to stay snuggled up with Neil, warm skin pressed to warm skin, and sleep until we woke up to fuck again.
I hadn't meant to stay so late. I really hadn't. Especially since this was technically his place at the moment, and staying over seemed a bridge too far for our first night. I lifted my head and rested my chin on his chest. "I have to go."
"Right, you have work tomorrow." He grimaced as he moved his arm. I'd been laying on it for a while. "I suppose you've got some horrible prick of a boss who won't let you have the morning off?"
I sat up and frowned down at him. "Is my horrible prick of a boss giving me the morning off?"
"No." He laughed and held up his hands defensively when my jaw dropped. "No, actually, I really need you there in the morning. I'm interviewing someone, and I want you to sit in. I just wanted to see your face when you thought I was giving you the morning off."
"You asshole." I laughed and leaned down, brushing my lips across his. I meant it to be quick, but his hand splayed at the small of my back, and his other hand rose to the nape of my neck. As long as I was being held there, I thought I might as well let him kiss me thoroughly.
"Are you sure you won't stay?" he asked, but we'd been over that between the second and third time. He really hadn't been kidding about having the sex drive of a seventeen-year-old. I was twenty-four years younger than him, and I had serious doubts I could keep up consecutive nights of this.
I shook my head and forced myself to actually get out of the bed. If I stayed much longer, I'd be too tired to make my way home. "Friends with benefits don't sleep over. I explained all this."
"You did, I'm sorry. I'm being greedy." He sat up and switched on the bedside lamp. "Let me help you find your things."
Picking up the sheet we'd accidentally kicked to the floor, I wrapped myself in it. It wasn't that I was bashful, but I figured the less naked we both were, the less likely we’d end up fucking again. Neil apparently agreed, because in addition to the flannel sleep pants, he donned the Led Zeppelin t- shirt I'd been wearing on and off all evening.
My bra was on the steps, my dress downstairs. I was just tugging down my skirt when a thought occurred to me. "You still have my panties."
"Oh, do I?" He had stooped to pick up the shoe I'd kicked across the room earlier in the evening. "Yes, I suppose I did take them."
He was acting a bit too innocent. He was up to something. "Can I have them back?"
"What if I said no, you can't have them back?" He carried my shoe with him to the couch and sat down. "Would you like to play a game, Sophie?"
"What kind of game?" I walked toward him slowly. Once he got his hands on me, I might be powerless to leave. My body came to full, quivering attention with every step I took.
"I don't think it's a secret that I like to be in control during sex." He held up my shoe and patted his thigh, and I raised my leg cautiously. He grasped my ankle and slipped the toe of my shoe on, then the heel. But he didn't release me. I stood there, my foot braced against his hard thigh, the already short skirt riding up to my hips, exposing me completely.
"I did notice," I quipped. And oh, had I ever. The first time we'd been together, I'd assumed his dominant nature had been about guiding me through my inexperience. Tonight, though, he'd been just as commanding, and I was a little embarrassed to admit how much I liked it. There was something incredibly freeing in not having to guess at what he wanted. Especially when it had seemed like the only thing he'd wanted was to make me come as hard as possible, as many times as possible.
I shuddered as his fingers slipped up, caressing the back of my calf. He seemed totally unaffected, even as his hand travelled higher. "Have you ever experimented with Domination and submission?"
My high hopes sank. "Yeah, I have."
"Were you the Dominant, or the submissive?" His fingers curled over my knee, then swept under, tickling the bend.
"One of my exes wanted me to tie him up and do stuff to him." I shook my head. "It really wasn't my thing. It felt like he was telling me, 'here, do all the work.' Not really appealing."
"Understandably, if that was how it was presented." He continued stroking, and every brush of his fingers hitched my arousal higher. “I like to think of it as a game; for myself, and for you. How can I make you feel and experience things you never have? And the challenge for you lies in giving up control, testing your own limits.”
I swayed on my feet. "If you keep doing that, I'm never going to get out of here."
His lips tilted in a small smile. "Have you ever been the submissive in a sexual relationship?"
"Only with you."
"Does it bother you?" His hand stilled, and he studied my face for the answer.
Should it? I was a strong, independent young woman, right? I wasn't supposed to enjoy having a man boss me around. But every time Neil had given me a command in his low, serious voice, I'd fallen apart.
"Honestly?"
"No, Sophie, I want you to lie to me. I find communication terribly overrated." He bent his head and kissed my knee.
I shrugged. "It bothers me less than it should."
"Why should it bother you?" His mouth slipped down to the curve of my calf, his hand squeezing and stroking there.
"Because I'm not supposed to like being told what to do by some man." I took a shuddering breath.
He raised his head and looked me in the eye. "I think you and I are alike in that we don't worry about what we’re suppose to do. Within reason."
That was very true, I'd give him that.
"I'm not looking for a twenty-four-seven submissive," he clarified. "I have enough to worry about in my own life; I don't need the added responsibility of telling you what to do every moment of your day. Taking control during sex, some light bondage and sensation play, that’s the sort of thing I enjoy. And if you don’t want to try it, that won't change my mind about our sexual relationship. I'd be perfectly happy either way. If you were willing to explore the possibility, though, I certainly wouldn’t object."
"Well..." I pretended to consider, letting my knee fall slightly to the side, to give him a better view. "I'll try anything once."
"I'm very glad to hear it." He playfully brushed my foot aside and stood, his hand sliding up my leg, under my skirt. He pulled me sharply to him as he pushed two fingers into my pussy. I clenched around him and groaned. He swallowed the sound, his lips forcing mine apart as his fingers slowly withdrew and pumped in again. "Would you like to try something now?"
"I have to go," I giggled against his mouth. He backed me up a step at a time, his fingers still inside me, until my shoulder blades hit the cool surface of the mirrored wall. He kissed me, sliding his other arm along mine, to lace our fingers and hold my hand captive.
"You'll go," he murmured, his mouth sliding to my jaw, my neck, his fingers still wriggling. "But you'll go home just as you are. Naked under that very short skirt."
I whimpered as his thumb circled my clitoris in slow, heavy strokes. I squeezed my thighs around his hand.
"And as you go, with nothing between your bare cunt and the world, I'd like you to remember why you’re doing it. Whom you’re doing it for.” His hand stilled, and he looked down, into my eyes. The intensity in his gaze swept like fire through me. He found my g-spot and pressed hard. "Remember how it felt, waiting for me to arrive, touching yourself while I watched. Remember that it was all for me, that when we're together, this is all for me."
Unbelievably, after a night of nonstop pleasu
re, I still had another amazing orgasm in me. My muscles tightened and I rose on the balls of my feet, holding him for support. I tipped my head back, but he caught my chin and forced me to look at him, ordering, "Open your eyes."
I did, and our gazes met as I climaxed, from just the pressure of his fingers. I squealed and squirmed, shocked by the magnitude of the release that suffused me with heat and paradoxical shivers of cold.
He slipped his fingers from my body and pressed them against my mouth. I opened obediently and sucked them clean, never taking my gaze from his. My pulse beat so fast, I was sure he could see it in my pupils.
"I’ll call you a car. If that’s all right?" he asked, taking my hand and drawing it to his mouth. He kissed my knuckles one by one.
"Well, it's that or put my bare ass on a subway seat." I pulled away, disentangling our hands. The moment had skirted a bit close to a line I didn’t care to think about. I didn't want to get anywhere near intimate. At least, not emotionally. Not yet.
Excuse me, Ms. Scaife, what’s this “yet?” I scolded myself.
I think Neil picked up on my discomfort. "I'll call the front desk. It will only take a moment."
He went back upstairs, but I stayed where I was. Getting close to a bed with him was not a great idea. My legs trembled as I turned to check myself out in the mirror. I looked recently fucked, no doubt about it. My lips were swollen, my eyes bright, my cheeks pink. My hair was tangled, and my attempts to comb through it with my fingers only made it look stringier. I’d sweated all the curl out.
I would have no problem staying focused on our little “game.” I already felt naughty, and I hadn’t left the hotel room yet. A thrill ran through me. Every step I took, I would be thinking about Neil, thinking about the fact that I was doing something “bad,” and I was doing it because he’d told me to. All the anticipation I’d felt earlier in the evening crashed over me again. Was this how it was going to be between us?
You might be in trouble, self.
Neil came back downstairs just as I had collected my garment bag with my work clothes, and my purse. "They'll have a car in five minutes."
"I think I'll go and wait in the lobby." I certainly wouldn't sit down, and god help me if I dropped anything, but it would keep me from falling back into bed with him.
He came to my side and put his arms around me, for a surprisingly sweet hug. "Thank you, I had a wonderful time tonight."
"Me too." I rose on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "We'll do this again soon?"
"I hope so. Oh, and bring that iPad back to the office, will you? I have some things I'd like to add to it."
"Will do," I assured him, and then, when I couldn't think of any other way around it, "I'll see you in the morning."
"Yes, see you in the morning." He grinned almost bashfully as I closed the door behind me.
* * * *
Being with Neil had overwhelmed me to the point that I forgot what day it was. Or was about to be. Or technically was, since it was after midnight. I got home, changed, scrubbed my makeup off, and crawled into bed at two-thirty, never thinking to check my phone's alarm.
I woke to the shrill beeping at five-thirty, and almost had to manually peel back my eyelids. Holli sat at the end of my bed, her huge brown eyes wide above her coffee mug. She was wearing her pink running suit over a gray sports bra. "Someone forgot her morning commitment."
"I remember now." I sat up, wincing at soreness in all my limbs. Thursday morning was usually our morning to work out together, but I'd gotten enough of a workout with Neil. "Do I have to?"
"Yes. You told me I wasn't allowed to let you make excuses." A truly naughty smile crossed her face. "And you have to tell me what happened last night."
Some friendships have clear-cut boundaries, wherein all relationship talk ends strictly at the bedroom door. That is not our friendship. I pulled on my sweats and blearily climbed out of bed. "Give me ten minutes."
Holli and I have memberships to the twenty-four hour gym down the block from our apartment. It's a small facility, and one of the best things about it is that it’s usually pretty empty early in the morning. Which might not bode well for the place staying open, but for now, it suited our needs just fine.
The need for privacy, for example, when you're laying out all the tawdry specific details of wild sex with your boss while you're also trying to get your cardio in on the elliptical.
"No, he did not!" Holli gasped, taking a sip from her pink aluminum water bottle. Her exclamation was in reaction to my whispered recounting of Neil wanting to put his face exactly where he’d ended up putting it.
"He totally said that," I made the scout's honor sign and crossed my heart. "Remember how I used to go on and on about the night in L.A., and how it was the best sex anyone ever had, ever? He topped it by, like, ten." A shiver went up my spine just remembering it. "The sick thing is, I want to do it all over again, like right now. We had sex three times last night. He made me come right before I left. I should have reached my yearly quota of partner-assisted orgasms by now."
"Is he going to want to do it again?" she asked, hitting a button on the display.
I nodded. "From every discussion we've had, I've gotten the feeling that he wants to make this a regular thing. And get this..."
My speech halted. I didn't know if I could actually utter the next part out loud. I was worried about what she would think, which was silly, considering how open she was about kinky stuff the rest of the time. I was surprised at how much I cared whether she liked Neil or not, and I worried she might make some kind of judgment about him before ever meeting him.
But why would that matter? I shook myself out of my funk. "Okay, don't laugh. But he wants to do some domination and submission type stuff with me."
Her eyes grew wide. "Oh my god, why would I laugh at that? It sounds hot! Are you gonna do it?"
"Yeah. I'll try anything once. And at least I know he can make it worth my while." I snickered to myself.
"Look at you, all sexually confident." Holli grinned, showing her perfect white teeth. "So, how does this work, do you like, get dressed up in leather and beat the shit out of him, or - "
She caught me mid-swallow from my water bottle. I almost choked.
"How can you take something awesome and make it sound so unsexy? But no. He's into being the boss."
"Doesn't he get enough of that all day long?" She shook her head. "Look, whatever you want to do. I don't think I could let someone tie me up."
We finished our workout and I headed back to the apartment to shower and get ready for work. Holli just hit the showers at the gym, and would head to her shoot. I would never appropriately disguise my envy that she had a job where it was not only acceptable, but also preferred, for her to show up looking as ratty and unpolished as possible. Today, she would be posing for American Apparel, so the comfy clothes she'd be wearing all day just added insult to injury.
Hey, you're the one who injured yourself, I reminded myself as I slipped my keys into my purse and left the apartment for work. I really had overdone it, and not on the elliptical. My inner thighs ached; my voice was hoarse from enthusiastic overuse, and even my feet hurt from the constant curling of my toes. It felt wonderfully wrong to strut into work the morning after fucking your boss, still sore in your muscles and other parts.
I practically ran to catch the train, and hurried up to the office. I was later than usual, but I so did not want to arrive after Neil. I didn't want him to think I was going to take advantage of him by shaving time off my work day in trade for sex. Lucky for me, he was actually behind schedule.
I put my coat away and placed the ipad on his desk, then stopped to dash off a quick message in the note app.
Thank you for the wonderful night. May I have my panties back, please? I may or may not be wearing any right now.
I smiled to myself. I totally was wearing panties under my green pencil skirt, but he didn't have to know that.
"Excuse me?"
My h
ead snapped up, and I closed the iPad cover guiltily. "Hi, can I help you?"
The woman standing in the doorway was basically cool on legs. She wore matte black leather pants, an artfully faded t-shirt for a band I'd never listened to but whose name I'd heard everywhere, and a gold fringe necklace. Her skin was light brown and flawless, and she wore a nude lip gloss to offset the dramatic look of her heavily lined eyes. She smiled, and she had the friendliest, warmest smile I'd seen on anyone whose last name wasn't Osmond. "Hi, human resources sent me up. I have an eight o'clock interview?"
"Yes, of course." I motioned for her to follow me back to my desk. I spoke over my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mr. Elwood is running late this morning -"
"No, I'm not." Neil's voice held a note of surprise. He stepped from behind the partition that sectioned off the coffee counter. He raised his eyebrows as he sipped from a plain black mug.
I turned to the woman. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water? Soda?"
"No, thanks." She pushed her dark, straight hair over her shoulder and stuck out her hand for Neil. "I'm Deja Williams."
"Neil Elwood." He shook her hand and gestured toward his office. "If you don't mind, I'm going to have my assistant, Sophie, sit in on the interview. She's been here longer than I have, and knows better than I do what it will take to replace her."
I followed them into the office, trying to mentally control the embarrassed flush creeping up my neck. How could I have missed that he'd already arrived? I hadn't wanted to be late, and on top of it, how was it going to look to our interviewee? Don't try too hard, she's not going to be that difficult to replace. That’s how it was going to look.
Neil paused beside the desk and flipped open the cover on the iPad. My note still illuminated the screen. I saw the corner of his mouth twitch as he read it, and it took all my willpower not to smirk.
His eyes met mine for only a second then his full attention turned to Deja Williams, who sat in the chair across from him.
I haven't quite gotten over the cultural conditioning that makes us view other women as competition. It's an ugly truth, but there it is. Deja should have been my kryptonite. She was cool and beautiful and funny. She answered every question sincerely, but with a warm, safe humor. She was perfect. According to all my usual math, I should have hated her instantly.