I sell sex, sin, and pleasure, but it
isn’t just my business, it’s my entire life. I get off on the power of
controlling it all.
She’s the one woman I can’t have.
She threatens everything, and yet I
can’t stay away. There’s a beautiful, sexual creature inside this timid girl
that’s desperate to claw its way out. I’m going to set it free, even if it
brings my empire tumbling down.
I have to believe she’ll be worth all
the little mistakes I’ve made
Joseph
leaned back in his chair and his gaze drifted down slowly, taking in the
uniform. The red button-down shirt and black necktie, which was tucked into the
black waist apron, tied over my fitted black pants. Oh, no. Was I wearing
something wrong? The gaze drifted back up to meet mine, and it was heated. No,
better. It had a look I’d seen from him before, the look that made my knees go
soft.
Lust.
But it faded as quickly as it had appeared.
“As
much fun as it is to see you,” he said casually, “I’m not up for another round
of your wait game right now.”
I
steeled my voice to sound strong. “I’m not here to play that. If wait comes from me, you should ignore
it. I know what I want.”
“Oh,
of course.” His patronizing tone was sharp, but it helped solidify my desire.
“You think you’re really ready this time?”
“Yes.”
The
conviction in my word gave him pause. “I’m sure you think so.”
This
was the moment I’d been desperate for. I’d be damned if I was going to back
down. “Tell me what you want me to do. I’ll do it.”
A
small smile grew on his lips. How did he make something so innocent look sinful
and dirty? “All right, little girl. Take off your apron.”
Easy.
I fumbled with the strings in the small of my back and tugged the knot free,
then tossed the black fabric onto a nearby table.
“Undo
your belt.”
This
command was slightly harder to follow. Sensible Noemi raised a warning, but I
ignored her. This was a test. I slipped the end of the belt loose from the
buckle, feeling Joseph’s dark eyes watching my every move.
“Good,”
he said, when it was done. “Unzip.”
“Here?”
I whispered. He nodded.
Maybe
it wasn’t a test. I tried not to falter or think. Just follow his command. I unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, but my
hands trembled.
Pleased
surprise streaked his face. I was sure I’d already made it farther than he
thought I would. Joseph relaxed in his seat, throwing an arm on the back of the
empty chair beside him, as if watching a show.
“Okay
so far?” There was an edge of teasing, which I probably deserved.
“Yeah,”
I said between deep breaths.
“Pants
down to your knees. Your shirt comes up, so when you lean over and put yourself
facedown on this table, you’ll show me your perfect ass.”
My
need to stay decent was swept away in a tidal wave of desire. You’re going to do it, Noemi. I glanced
around the empty dining room. The rest of the staff would be in the kitchen for
another twenty minutes. I shimmied the waist of my pants over my hips and down
my thighs until they were bunched at my knees. Cold air wafted over my newly
exposed legs. My lavender lace panties barely covered my backside and I
couldn’t contain the shudder. I was nervous to be doing this where anyone could
catch us, but the dark, bad part of me was excited. I was doing it.
I
pushed the placemats and silverware out of my way, yanked up my shirttails, and
did as ordered, lowering my upper body to rest on the veneer. I was bent over
the end of the table, and Joseph shifted his seat to an angle to see me better.
The
only sound was his clipped breathing.
“Goddamn.
Pull those sexy panties down,” he said, his voice hushed but no less sexy. “I
want to see your pussy.”
“Oh
my God,” I whispered. His filthy commands set me on fire, and created a line
that sensible Noemi couldn’t get across. My fingers clawed at the waistband and
pushed my underwear down until it was around my thighs, leaving me naked and
vulnerable. Showing Joseph a part of me that few men had ever seen. And I loved
it.
“Look
at you.” It rang out like he couldn’t believe it. “What would you do if someone
walked in right now and saw this? With your ass bare, and your pussy waiting to
be fucked?”
I
had no thought in my mind, so I picked the only answer I could. “I’d . . . do
whatever you told me to.”
Nikki Sloane landed in graphic design
after her careers as a waitress, a screenwriter, and a ballroom dance
instructor fell through. For eight years she worked for a design firm in that
extremely tall, black, and tiered building in Chicago that went through an
unfortunate name change during her time there. Now she lives in Kentucky and
manages a team of graphic artists. She is married and has two sons, writes
dirty books, and couldn't be any happier.
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