Page 10 of The Playboy
“I-I don’t know, it just came out. Can we please get moving again?”
Lies.There isnoreason he needs to know what that word means to me.
That’s a part of me I don’t like to showcase. Most men hear that a woman likes being submissive, and they assume she is a crazy horny girl who will have crazy kinky sex with anyone. I’m actually very selective about who I date or sleep with; Ben notwithstanding.
“Bullshit. That doesn’t just come out. Look at me, Sam.” I do, and I can see the wheels in his head spinning. He gives me a panty dropping smile, and his face turns serious again before he tells me, “Kneel.”
Chapter 7
“No, I’m not cold, Sir.”
Sir. That three-letter word coming from her mouth is so sinful. I want to claim her, kiss her, fuck her. I want to make hermine. I growl and hit the stop button on the elevator. She panics and tries to start the elevator again. “No. Don’t.” She flinches and drops her hand to her side, her eyes focused on the button. “Why did you call me Sir?”
“I-I don’t know, it just came out. Can we please get moving again?” she stutters.
“Bullshit. That doesn’t just come out. Look at me, Sam.” She does, and a smile tugs at my lips before disappearing again. “Kneel.”
I see her legs shake, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession, the red tint of her skin covering any and all of her exposed skin. I can tell she wants it. I can see it in her eyes. She’s having an inner war with herself.
Just kneel, please!
I know it’s not right for me to want this—we work together for fuck’s sake—but I do. I want to have her wrapped around me, pleasing me and letting me do the same for her. Then she does something that surprises the hell out of me and straightens her stance.
She crosses her arms over her chest, squares her shoulders, and states, “No.”
I struggle to not smile. I should have seen it coming. She’s a professional, and I’m pushing her into uncomfortable territory. We can still have sex and work together. I’ve done it with enough actresses, and they’re all professional about it.
“Interesting.” I press the button, and the elevator moves again, gliding to a gentle stop at her floor. Her breathing is still a little erratic, and her cheeks are flushed. The doors slide open. She’s itching to get away from me. “I’ll see you at six-thirty. Wear a dress.”
She steps out of the elevator, and I’m almost positive I hear a quiet, “yes, Sir,” escape her lips.
God help me if this woman doesn’t kill me over the course of the next few days. The doors slide shut, and it begins climbing to my floor. I’m not going to make it through tonight if I can’t have her. I palm my cock, which is hard as a rock, and try to ease some of the tension from it. The elevator stops, and I scramble to get out of there, encasing myself in the safety of my room.
Looking at the clock on the nightstand, I realize I only have an hour until I’ll be going down to her room. I contemplate jacking off, or at least taking a cold shower to cool down. I’ve been semi-hard since she walked into my room this morning, but now it’s almost painful. I can’t meet with her tonight without taking the edge off.
I strip down and start the water for the shower. I picture Sam is doing the same a few floors down, and my cock jumps at the thought of her. I stand under the warm spray, lather my hands with soap, and work myself over. I imagine her hands and mouth on me, touching and licking all the sensitive parts, and before I know it, I’m coming all over myself.
My heartbeat is erratic, and I lean against the tile to catch my breath. I look down and see I’m still semi-hard.Fucking hell!Finishing my shower, I get out and pick up my phone to text Emily. I need more information about this girl, and Emily is sure to have it.
Me:Passing your germs around lately?
Emily:Not likely. I’ve been cooped up in bed since I got home. I’m getting there. Should be only a few more weeks now. Scared Sam off yet?
I laugh reading the text. This girl knows me so well.
Me:I may have. Why? Has she said anything to you?
Emily:Yeah, she asked if everything you say is sexual in nature… I told her that’s part of your charm.
I laugh again reading it. She’s not wrong. I type and delete what I want to say several times before giving up and calling her instead. She answers on the first ring.
“Too chicken to type out what you really want to ask?” she asks.
“No, hello Tait? How are you doing? How’s the weather in Vancouver?” I chuckle, running my hand through my damp hair. She always gets right to the point.
“Nope. So, what’s up?” Her voice is cheery.
“Are you sure you’re sick? You sound just fine to me.”