Chapter 5

After arriving Monday, the morning dragged until the daily meeting. As we stood around waiting, the doors swung wide to release a harried, mostly dressed woman wobbling atop heels to walk unevenly towards the elevator. Welp, any lingering question that our little night game meant anything to him evaporated.

Mrs. Hutchins glanced at me, but what could I say. When her head dipped to look over her rims, I turned away so she wouldn’t see the heating of my skin. Alright, sis. Now what?

You know what? This was fun, no matter what. He hadn’t fired me. We’d had our fun. He could have his contestants and ... We walked inside and Ryan was at the table with his daily pussy already settling in the chair next to him. He never even looked at me. Used and discarded.

Oh, hell no. That was not how I played my game.

So from Tuesday onwards I went right to Roger or one of the other designated toys. And lo-and-behold, after another meeting with Mike driving his long, talented fingers into me, Ryan all of sudden spent more time watching me than the presentations or, indeed, the hungry pussy of the day. Which, of course, only confused me more. Did he want me or not? Hell, was Tina right? Did I still want him? At that point, I really should have dressed like I could and played for real. Find my if not actual Mr. Marvelous, a decent facsimile.

Besides, to be honest, I was unsure what I hoped to accomplish, anyway.

Or whose game we were playing? His? Mine? Perhaps a little of both? In any event, since I was now enjoying his wandering attention, I decided to add parting my legs to give him a better view. Wouldn’t you know it, after that, even as he played with the “contestant of the day,” his gaze was more often than not on me. So, yeh, at last I was pretty sure we were playing Naomi’s game.

Then, after a week or so, one morning, I was sipping coffee at my desk, trying to keep my eyes from glazing over as I scanned endless reports, when Mrs. Hutchins hurried over.

“The meeting’s canceled.” A curse flew out under my breath. Today was going to be Mike again, and I really needed his fingers. After looking over her shoulder, she added. “And, uh, Mr. Carlton sent for you.”

“When?”

“Now.” She gave that over the glasses not quite glare again and I shrugged.

If he hadn’t fired me by now, what could he want with lil old me? As I swallowed, I got to my feet and headed past Mrs. Hutchins, her head swiveling to track me. Since the elevator was empty, I whipped to the 120th floor and stepped into the empty reception area. One receptionist looked up. That was a first. She smiled. Another first. And gestured to the door as it opened. One more first. What the hell was going on?

Once I had walked in, the door sealed after me and I swept my gaze around the room. His hands clasped behind his back; Ryan stood facing the window. A tall, older man, maybe late-30s, reclined on the couch like he owned it. His bright green eyes had the same intensity as Ryan’s as he scanned every inch of my apparently not so well-concealed frame. Ryan’s hands clenched and the man’s hand had just thrown a sheaf of papers to the coffee table before him. There was palpable tension in the air, as if they had just stopped yelling at each other. With the tip of one shaking finger, I pushed the glasses up my nose and strode closer.

“Ah, there you are,” Ryan said, still staring off into the distance. Then his tone shifted, and he added. “What do you think?” He wasn’t asking me.

The visitor leaned forward to inspect me once more. And that was exactly what it was—an inspection. As it glided over every part of me, his gaze lingered, moved on, then lingered again. It was as if I were naked, and shivers ran along my spine under his unblinking stare.

What the hell was going on?

The visitor raised one eyebrow. Only one. “I don’t know. Too many clothes.”

Ryan sighed, but his eyes remained fixed far out at the edge of the planet. “You heard him. Strip please, Miss. Duncan.”

What the actual fuck? No way! Then I caught Ryan’s eyes, gleaming as he swept my quaking frame. My oh, my ... Mr. not-Duncan wanted to watch again. As a tremor crackled through me, I pursed my lips and looked down at the visitor, who had leaned back once more. I mean, it wasn’t as if I minded being scantily dressed before men ... My underwear, at least today, was close enough to a bikini. And another opportunity to mess with the boss. Whatever little plan Ryan had ... I could turn this little escapade into the next round in Naomi’s game. Sure, I would play. Priceless.

Keeping my eyes locked on Ryan’s reflected face, I tugged off my dress, tossed it to one of the chairs, and stood, letting the cool air conditioning slice across my bare skin. As I shivered, flaring heat countered by racing over my skin and deep, very deep, within my flitting insides. Okay, maybe not exactly like wearing a bikini. This wasn’t in public. Still quaking, I turned from Ryan to look down at the visitor whose eyes had widened—a lot. That hungry expression was familiar to me, and I began to question my decision as my knees shook. But he paid no attention to my shuddering and snapped his fingers. He actually snapped his fingers at me before gesturing to my underwear.

“Still too much,” he said, after shifting his vision to Ryan.

Ryan wouldn’t. I mean, he could. If he wanted. As I chewed my lower lip, I looked at his unblinking eyes. Oh, he wanted. Then I flicked my eyes down a bit; his trousers were tight. Yes, he wanted—a lot. Such a naughty boy.

“All of your clothes, Miss Duncan.”

Well, shit, in for a penny ... Naked and unafraid and all that. Nevertheless, this could go off the rails at any moment. What if the visitor...? What if he did something? Ryan’s unblinking eyes stared, but not directly, using the reflective glass. Watching, but not watching. How adorable. Oh, what if I let him? What if I let the visitor play with me? As I bit into my lower lip, Ryan’s eyes positively blazed when my fingers slipped over my bra clasp. As I undid it, I stifled a giggle, wondering if I should do a little bump and grind as I looked down at the waiting visitor. Ryan would like that, I bet. As the man’s tongue swept along his parted lips, his hungry eyes flashed.

This was madness. Where was I going with this? Amelia said the others wouldn’t do certain things for Ryan. Did I even want Ryan? He was—vexing.

It had been a while since my last stripper gig, but ... As lace slid down my torso, cold air chilled my aching nipples and the visitor’s eyes widened. Yes, I had nipple piercings. Yes, they had hurt like fuck all while they healed. No, I didn’t wear the golden rings I once did, but had tasteful diamond-tipped rods. And it was clear the visitor liked them—a lot. A small gasp fled Ryan when the glinting stones caught his widening eyes in the mirrored glass.

With a sigh, I didn’t bother waiting and slid my panties off as well. The low whistle from the visitor stopped when his eyes locked on my very well-sculpted, thank you very much, furry heart. Actually, as a new gleam reflected in the glass, I swallowed; Ryan had discovered my third piercing. And air fled his lips once more.

“Happy yet?” I flicked my eyes from one open-mouthed man to the other.

“She will do,” the visitor said to Ryan rather than answer me.

And Ryan only nodded, just as the visitor’s large fingers wrapped around my wrist and tugged me to the couch beside him. Only as I fell did I think to protest, but my eyes flicked to the tent in Ryan’s trousers and I let the visitor pull me tight to him. This was for Ryan. While I wasn’t sure why, or didn’t want to admit why, Ryan watching the visitor embrace me made me tingle. More than tingle, if I’m honest. Then Tina’s words came back to me ... I could out slut anyone.

Once seated, the stranger wrapped one arm around my neck, dangling his hand so his long, rough fingers slid over my nipple while the other hand wasted no time in landing on my thigh. Both hands were large ... And we all know what that meant. As I swallowed, I spared a glance at his crotch. Impressive. Of course, he caught me and grinned.

“Is she ready?” Ryan asked.

Ready? Ready for what? Then I found myself staring at the ceiling as a woman’s voice whimpered. The voice sounded a lot like mine—because it fucking was. The visitor’s long, powerful fingers, now sliding through my fur, were pressing deep as he drove them downwards, which ran his thumb along my piercing. When he caught it with his nail, a groan ripped from me as electric bolts ripped my body to one side. Wetness seeped around his fingers. Oh! Ready? I got it.

“Yes.”

Before I could decipher the full impact of that single word, in one swift motion, the visitor lifted me and spun me. Even as my hands clawed at the back of the couch, his zipper opened. This was too much. It had been a long ti ... Oh, that familiar feeling. Wow, he was big. My dancer friend was delightful, but this beat ... Jesus fucking Christ! My nails sank into the leather when I swayed forward as his log plowed into me, shoving my insides apart. With a feral groan from deep in my core, I widened my legs as the thick plug pushed into me, warm, throbbing and gouging my yielding flesh.

Electricity crackled as I gasped for air; heat flared across my swinging body. Memories returned. Groans fled my mouth, and I flung my head around to look at Ryan. His eyes were wide, his tongue licked his lips, and he swayed as I rocked forward under the smacking impact of the visitor’s steely pelvis into my ass—for the first time. That didn’t take long. All that cock. Yeh, I was ready.