Текст книги "Weak for Him"
Автор книги: Lyra Parish
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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 12 страниц)
Six
The next day, bangs on my door woke me from a restless sleep. I grabbed the robe and wrapped it around my body. Seriously, sleeping nude was my new favorite thing.
More knocks pounded on the door.
God, what time was it?
The sun hadn't risen, so 6:00 a.m.? Maybe 7:00 a.m.?
Through the peephole, I saw Charlie, Mr. Felton's driver, standing with a garment bag in his hands. Before he could knock again, I swung open the door. His fist was suspended in the air.
"Good morning, Charlie." I smiled, and he did, as well.
"What can I do for you on this fine early Friday morning?"
"Mr. Felton instructed me to bring clothes, breakfast, and tell you to get dressed immediately."
He handed me the garment bag and a little box with a daisy sticker.
"I'll be waiting downstairs. You have ten minutes."
And as he walked off, he turned around and said, "Felton's schedule is tight today, so ten minutes tops."
The mention of Mr. Felton's name sparked electricity through my body.
Get yourself together, Jennifer.
I opened the black nylon bag and found a pair of red lacy panties and bra to match, along with business slacks and a button-up shirt.
I lusted over the pretty, petite panties and lacy bra. I may have a small obsession with beautiful lingerie.
Letting the robe slide from my shoulders, I removed the lace from the little pink hangers and slipped them on.
The lingerie fit like it was made for my body. I couldn't help but wonder how he knew. That type of thing wasn't on my resume, but then again, he most likely saw hundreds of women naked considering his profession. I wondered if he could guess any woman's size just by studying her bare body for a few seconds. Hell, he could probably guess with them fully clothed.
I slipped the straps over my shoulders and reached my hands behind and clasped. The way the bra hugged my body was pure perfection. The material fit like a glove, but softer, and sexier, that was for damn sure. The panties felt just as nice, except they were high cut in the bottom, not quite a thong but not quite a panty. I didn't usually wear that style, but wow, they made my ass look great. Tan skin paired with steamy red lingerie, I looked sexy. It's amazing what flawlessly designed lingerie could do to a woman's self-esteem.
I pulled the pressed slacks from the hanger, size seven—man he was good—and slipped on the button-up shirt that went all the way up to the neck. I looked like a prude with nastiness hidden underneath.
In the back of the garment bag, a scribbled note read:
Wear your hair down. –F. Felton
After a quick brush of the teeth, and another look in the mirror, I was out the door. Not full makeup because it wasn't necessary, just a little color on the lips.
A feeling crept up inside of me that I couldn't quite put my finger on. The excitement of the unknown raged and flipped.
Outside, the reflections of the surrounding buildings danced upon the limo. I felt too upper class riding it in and completely out of my zone. As I walked closer, Charlie greeted me with a head nod and opened the back door. Before I climbed in, I thanked him, and took a deep breath, hoping my heart wouldn't burst from my chest. The thought of seeing Mr. Felton sitting inside the limo made me nervous. How would he act now that I'd agreed to join his team? Treat me like a whore? Demand me to obey him? I didn't know, but I would soon find out.
Once inside the limo, I expected to see green eyes and messy hair eagerly awaiting me, but my arrival was greeted with evil looks from two women.
Well damn, was my last thought before the limo door closed and we sped off.
"Ms. Downs, my name is Paisley, and this is Jessica, but she likes to be called Jesse. We have been assigned to mentor you over the next few weeks."
Intimidation and doubt slowly replaced my excitement. Paisley looked like a goddess with naturally tanned skin, golden brown hair, and a face only the daughter of Zeus could have. Jesse had blonde hair, a petite nose, light skin, and bright red lips. If I believed in the supernatural, I might have assumed she was a vampire. These two women couldn't be more opposite from one another, and they rivaled in beauty.
"As she said, we will be mentoring you for the next few weeks." Jesse's tone was nothing but disinterest coated in boredom. She sighed after she spoke, and then mumbled something, which I only assumed to be bitchy by the way her head bobbed, to Paisley. I overheard things like: she's not wearing makeup, just another one of Finn's toys, not going to cut it.
I cleared my throat and then spoke. "Excuse me, I'm right here, and can hear you."
Jesse crossed her arms and legs and pushed her body further into the soft leather seats. I wished they would suck her in.
"I apologize, Ms. Downs. Jessica can sometimes forget her manners."
Paisley sent her an incredulous look, but Jesse returned it with an open eye roll and a moan. She treated me like a second-class citizen, not good enough to be in the same car with her.
Paisley smiled at me, not a big warm smile, but a courteous one.
"So where were we? Oh yes. Mentoring. If you are to be an Elite, you must act as an Elite, which requires proper etiquette training. Think of it as orientation if you will."
"Okay," I muttered.
"Just because Finn wants you as one of his, doesn't mean you are guaranteed a place in the ranks. You will be tested, and there are two inevitable outcomes: either you pass or fail. Only you will decide," Paisley said.
Her tone never rose. She was all business while Jesse was all bitchiness.
"Tell her about the last girl, Pais. Tell her how she got fired," Jesse said.
"No. I will not, Jessica."
Paisley turned her body toward me.
"Your training began the very moment you were handed that garment bag. I can see you follow instructions. Well done," Paisley said.
Then a thought crossed my mind. Charlie had warned me as he walked down the stairs. He said Mr. Felton had a tight schedule. Of course, if I had gotten the hint, I would have known that he wasn't in the limo waiting for me. I know how to follow instructions, but am practically blind when it comes to subtle clues.
Paisley's words echoed in my mind, training and tested. What kind of tests could they give a virgin? I chuckled to myself as I imagined a ridiculous line at a carnival, but for sexual favors. Step right up, Ladies and Gentlemen, the world's biggest virgin will learn how to perform blow jobs. I groaned.
Either way, I had to take this seriously because Paisley's words, although rough around the edges, were true. I would either join the ranks or wait until my savings completely depleted. Then I would be forced to go back to Texas. The fact was I would do anything to avoid that. Well almost anything.
The car skidded to a halt, and Charlie opened the door with a blank expression on his face. Paisley and Jesse exited, and I followed their lead. Long, slim legs led the way, and wow, they were like gazelles.
The two goddesses led me into the building. I couldn't help but wonder if Mr. Felton sat in his cozy glass windowed office drinking whiskey with another prospective employee naked in front of his desk. Why did I even given a damn?
As I followed them to the elevator, without saying a word, I tried to memorize every square inch of the fifteen-story building because yesterday was a blur. With a ding, we were inside. There were no friendly conversations exchanged. Instead, we listened to the elevator version of My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion. Paisley's cell phone rang, and she pulled it from her handbag and answered.
"Paisley speaking."
So formal, I thought.
"Yes. Yes. Yes, sir. The black pants. Yes, she is wearing them. No, no makeup. To be expected? I suppose. I agree. That's where we are heading now, yes, to look it over. I understand. Ciao."
She pressed end on her phone, and the elevator door opened. I knew the conversation was about me.
The corner office had glass walls exactly like Mr. Felton's, but inside there were different sized plants, a couch, an oak carved desk, and chairs that were arranged to maximize the square footage. I knew it was a woman's space just by the decor.
Paisley placed her handbag on the desk, and then motioned for me to take a seat.
Jesse flicked off her stilettos and propped both feet on the couch, and shooed me away.
"Now, before we get started on your training, there are a few things we need to discuss."
She opened the drawer and pulled out a file folder with my name scribbled across the top. Inside of the folder, a stack of papers, maybe two inches thick, lay neatly clipped together. Paisley removed them from the folder and scooted them my way. I moved my chair closer to the edge of her desk to take a better look.
"What is all of this?" I flipped through the paragraphs of legal jargon.
"This is your NDA and contract of employment," Paisley said.
Jesse groaned.
"Before we teach you anything, you must sign a nondisclosure agreement and read over the contract. Of course, we can provide a lawyer, but the fees will be deducted from your first stipend. If you do not pass training, you will still be responsible for all costs incurred during your legal consultation."
"Okay."
"It does seem like a lot, but everything included is necessary to protect Mr. Felton."
"Protect?"
"All of Finn's employees must sign and abide by the contract."
I thumbed through pages of legal words that jumbled together on the paper. The gist included my body being treated as property, strict rules, stricter regulations, and more blah blah fucking blah.
"So basically, you all own me if I pass training? Doesn't all of this seem, I dunno, a bit overboard?"
"To you, maybe, but we find these clauses are necessary to protect you, our clients, and the corporation. The NDA is to ensure the privacy of all parties and protection of any trade secrets that you may learn while being employed. Our contract is nothing short of enlisting for the U.S. Military. It might help if you think about it that way."
I continued to thumb through the pages.
"What about clause 7B-2, client may be released from duties as deemed necessary by management. But then in 6D-4, it states, the contract stands indefinitely until released. Seems to me as if there is hardly any job security."
"Many of our employees have worked here steadily for the past five years. As long as you—"
"What is the turnover rate?"
"No one has ever quit."
"Then how—"
"Mr. Felton has personally fired each employee that didn't cut it," Jesse butted in.
I had almost forgot she was behind me on the couch.
"Are you currently on the pill or shot?" Paisley asked.
"No. I… I don't have sex."
"I'll set up an appointment with the gynecologist next week," she said.
I hated the gynecologist. Just the thought of having someone feel around with cold metal and fingers made me cringe.
I continued to read through articles and amendments until I went cross-eyed. At the end of the five-hundred-something pages, there were two documents with a small X beside a line.
I swallowed down the lump in my throat.
What if I got old and ugly? What if I wanted to get married or have children? What if I fell in love?
Love, as stated in the contract, between clients and/or other employees is strictly prohibited and will result in immediate termination.
My heart dropped. Love, had yet to find me, and to be honest, Cupid had not shot his arrows in my direction for quite some time. Love was nonexistent, but do I want love? What other emotion is as powerful as that one? Love only happened in fairy tales.
With the final thought, I grabbed the pen and scribbled my Jane Hancock across the line.
"Are you sure you don't want legal advice?" Paisley asked, a little concerned.
I hesitated before signing the last page, and then went for it.
"You only live once, right?" I said.
And that's when Paisley's mouth dropped open.
"No one has ever denied legal advice," she said.
I threw my chips on the table and played the hand that Lady Luck dealt.
Please don't be a bitch, I thought.
Seven
"If you say so." Paisley signed her name below mine and Jesse notarized the document, grudgingly.
"We are all set, I suppose," Paisley said before picking up the phone on her desk and dialing a four-digit extension.
"It's done. I'll send her up," she said, and then hung up the phone.
Jesse leaned on the corner of the desk and stared at me, daring me to say something. But I didn't, and neither did she. I wasn't sure why she hated me so much, but I hoped she would get over it. I hated when people disliked me, especially for no reason.
"Jennifer, Mr. Felton would like to see you in his office," Paisley said.
The sound of his name conjured up a strange excitement.
"Do you remember where his office is?"
"Umm… no."
"Jesse, can you bring her? I have to fill out some additional paperwork before we leave for our ten o'clock appointment."
Jesse stood, but didn't wait for me. I was just supposed to follow. As I trailed behind her, I noticed how much prettier she was than me. Her aura, although bitchy, held a certain kind of confidence that probably drove men crazy. What was my aura?
She pushed the up arrow and we waited for the elevator to arrive. Once it opened, we stepped inside, and she pressed the fifteenth floor. As we moved upward, she stopped the elevator in mid-flight and then turned on me. Beauty and fury stared at me, waiting for me to make my move, but I stood my ground and returned the most uninterested look I could manage. I learned from the best after all.
"Listen to me. You think you are so pretty and sweet and innocent, but I know better. I can see straight through your little act. You better be on your toes because I already don't like you. And I will do everything I can to make sure you don't make it out of training. So get ready, little virgin girl. Get ready for the time of your fucking life." Her voice was full of vengeance and hate.
I reached over and pressed the button to continue upward.
"Challenge accepted," I said to her through gritted teeth.
Although Jesse towered over me like a giant, I wasn't concerned. What would she do, punch me? Fight me? I fought boys all my life. I wasn't the type of girl that got manicures on Saturdays or dyed my hair. She couldn't handle this, and no matter what she had to say, or what she tried to do, sabotaging my career wouldn't work.
As the elevator opened, she tried to block me from exiting. I gave her my best football player shoulder as I walked passed her, and I heard her scoff at my actions. Without looking back, I knew that I had successfully made a permanent enemy. Fantastic, just what I needed.
Everything looked familiar. The girl at the circular desk, the windows, and the door at the end of the hall with Mr. Felton's name etched across.
I straightened my shirt and pants before I knocked on the door. He instructed me to enter. I inhaled and turned the knob. Mr. Felton sat at his desk, closed the laptop, and then intertwined his fingers together before giving me that boyish grin that made my heart palpitate.
"Ms. Downs." My name sounded velvety coming from his lips.
"Mr. Felton," I retorted.
"I knew you'd make the right choice."
He guided me closer toward the view of the city and I gasped. The casinos, fake world attractions, and buildings filled the streets. The view was even better than the last time I caught a glimpse. Basically, he had front row seats to Sin City.
"It's beautiful," I whispered.
He turned his head and stared at me. Heat coursed through my veins and touched my cheeks.
I tried to focus on the city scene, and the feelings I experienced. I wanted to memorize every single detail of the Strip as it lay below my feet.
"Tell me about you."
I scoffed and shook my head.
He grabbed my wrists, and walked me backward until my ass hit the wall.
"I'm not joking. Now tell me." That accent and messy hair combined with bright green eyes made him deliciously dickish in every sense.
"I wouldn't know where to start."
"Let's start here."
He grabbed both my wrists in one hand and undid the buttons of the black shirt he made me wear, controlling each little button. The fabric got in the way of his view, so he moved it aside taking in every inch of my breasts spilling over the top of the lacy bra.
"Start with your past relationships."
The more I looked at him, the more I asked myself what I was doing. I could have left his office, but I didn't. It seemed it was too late to go back on my contract, too late to run away and never come to this building again. Although I was only into the business a few inches deep, every bit of me was cemented in, locked in legally, and as sick as it was, I liked it.
"I dated a guy for a year or so, and we were pretty serious. I thought maybe we would get married one day, but he wanted to have sex, and I wanted to wait until I was married."
Mr. Felton unbuttoned my pants and unzipped them a few inches, allowing enough room for his hands to slip inside my panties. I wiggled my wrists to stop him but he pinned both of my arms above my head.
"Don't, and continue," he whispered.
"His name was Greg. It was puppy love. He did nice things for me constantly, but then one day it all stopped. Like the fresh flowers had died, and I knew it was over."
While I spoke, his hand inched down my panties. I couldn't move, I couldn't run, and I didn't want to.
"Oh, you're wet. Do you like this, Ms. Downs? Did he ever touch your clit? Like this? "
And he pushed harder on my clit and I sunk into it. "You didn't fucking answer me."
His fingers parted me, and he began to add pressure and swirl in motions that I had never experienced before. Then backed away.
I struggled and fought to speak. "No. He never touched me. Anywhere. I wouldn't let him." My voice was low and wavering.
"Do you feel when I add pressure here between the folds of your labia," he said, and then barely dipped the end of a finger around the outside of my opening. My knees went weak.
"Yes." I struggled to speak. "It feels… really… good."
No one had ever explored my body in such a way, but oh god, I wanted him too. I wanted him to keep going. Every touch, every movement was turning me into clay. Something that he could mold and make into whatever he wanted.
"My little virgin is so wet. I fucking love it. And so do you."
The movements of his hands were bringing me to a place I had never been. My muscles began to tighten, my breathing picked up, and I inhaled deeply. Mr. Felton shook his head and pulled his hand from my panties, leaving my body wanting, begging for more.
He leaned in and whispered in my ear. "Did he ever make you come?"
I shook my head.
"Have you ever had an orgasm?"
I shook my head again.
"Today is your lucky day, isn't it?"
His hot breaths danced up and down my neck and around my ears. His hand slowly inched themselves back in my panties. The rhythmic motions brought me closer to the edge, and I pushed into him, pulling him closer, wanting to tip over and pour out, to experience an orgasm because I could feel the overcoming build taking over every part of me. I moaned.
"Why did you end it?"
I panted and bit my lip with satisfaction. With each word, I had to forcefully breathlessly focus on answering his question.
"I found out. He was cheating on me. With a family friend. He got the girl pregnant."
"Did it anger you?"
I was so close. I think? I could feel it. And I whimpered and thought I would lose my balance. He removed his hand from my panties, yet a-fucking-gain.
"Not yet. You'll come when I let you."
Oh fuck. I wanted to bitch slap that smirk from his beautiful face, grab his hair, and yank it hard.
"Now tell me. Did it anger you?"
"Not as much as you are right now."
"Wrong answer."
He crossed his arms and I released a sigh of desperation, and want, and longing. I needed to feel it. I drank the horny potion, and I needed to get it out. It was making me crazy and unfocused. I had never been so turned on in my life and either he would finish the job, or I would learn how.
"What is your type?"
He laced his fingers through my hair and lightly tugged, forcing me look into his deep green eyes.
"I asked you about your type."
"I don't fucking know, okay?" Frustration didn't fully describe my feelings. He jerked my pants down along with my panties and spread my legs wide as he slammed my ass against the cold wall. Like they were magnetized, his hands found their place on my clit again. Slow, mesmerizing movements, and I promised to tell him anything he wanted to know, but short answers because full conversation was out of the question.
"Tall and handsome."
He murmured, "So what you're say is you want to fuck me, little virgin?"
"Fuck you." I panted. And he released his hand from my wrists, and stuck his finger in my mouth, and I sucked and licked it.
What the hell was I doing?
He moaned with satisfaction as he satisfied me. At that moment, I would have let him slam me against his wooden desk and fuck me senseless. He knew it and so did my body. But I couldn't be wham-bam-thank you-fucked. My virginity was for sale. We both knew that. It was clearly spelled out in the legal document I signed.
"That look on your face. I know what it means. I want to hear you yell it when you're coming. Fucking tell me," he said between soft lips as he ran his fingers through my hair.
My hips naturally moved with the rhythm of his hand, and I sank deeper into my emotions, allowing the movement and pressure to consume every bit of me. It took me in and pushed me out until I couldn't control myself any longer. And then it happened.
"Oh. Fuck. I think. I'm. Coming," I whispered.
The sweet flood of release overtook me physically as every muscle tightened and clenched below. He kept the movement slow and soft until I had completely finished coming. My legs wobbled, and I thought I would fall, but he steadied me as I lost myself in the orgasmic wave. My heart pounded, trying to beat itself from my chest, and I thought I would crumble into nothingness and become dust in the wind. I was useless.
Oh my fucking… god. What had I been missing all of my life?
He fidgeted with his dark blue tie and removed the space between us. I didn't know what to do or say. Soap and summer breeze filled my nose, and I could feel his erection pressing on my leg.
I looked into his eyes. Without saying a word, he searched and called me like his personal sex kitten. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, and he placed one finger over my lips and whispered in my ear.
"Don't say I never fucking gave you anything. Now get out."
"You are such an asshole."
"That's Mr. Asshole to you."
I pulled up my big-girl-who-just-had-an-orgasm-in-her-boss's-office panties and swooshed my messy curls to the side as I buttoned my pants. The room was suffocating and I couldn't breathe.
When I made it to the elevator all I could do was call him an asshole repeatedly. Fucking asshole, asshole, asshole!
On the fifth floor, Jesse stepped into the elevator, and when the door shut, she laughed. Not a genuine one, but rather an evil bitch laugh. The type of laugh that only she could conjure from the pits of hell.
"What?" I asked smugly.
"You're wearing a J.B.F face."
"J.B.F?"
"Seriously? Just been fucked, dumbass, and you smell like sex."
I crossed my legs and could feel the wetness in my panties.
When the glass elevator doors opened, all I wanted to do was burst through the lobby and never look back. But wait, people actually smelled like sex? And she could smell it? Either way, I was convinced that everyone in that building were nothing more than giant assholes.
Anger coated me as realization set in. I had given that womanizing dickhead the pleasure of giving me my first orgasm.
Damn it!
I should have slapped that asshole's pretty face when I had the chance.
