Embargo (Hot Off The Press) Book 2 (2 page)

“It looks like you are ready for the main event,” my boss says. I feel that plug begin to slide into my ass. The feeling is intense. My entire body begins to shake as my boss slowly violates my backside. I moan and grit my teeth as that plug slowly slides up my ass. I kick my feet and slam my head against the table. My body has never encountered such an intense feeling before. I feel my boss lean in and whisper into my ear, “I have that plug all the way up your young, little ass and I’m not finished with you yet.”

What does he have planned next? I feel my boss standing behind me. His hard cock slowly enters me from behind. He begins to slowly pump my pussy while he slowly fucks my ass with that butt plug. Add the fact that my hands are cuffed behind me and I have never felt so vulnerable before. As my body tries to process all the pain and pleasure running through it, I can hear the moans and grunts from my boss. He is surely having a good time. And I get a sense of pleasure knowing that he is enjoying himself. After about a minute, my body starts getting used to the double violation. As Mr. Rex develops a nice rhythm, I really start to get into it.

My boss pumps me faster and faster. He pushes that butt plug all the way up my ass and grabs my hair. I scream out as this hulking, massive man splits me into two. Mr. Rex takes his hands and begins to choke me. The fucking gets so intense, I nearly fall off of the desk. My boss grabs me and puts me on the floor. He makes me get on all fours as he continues to drive his big, thick dick inside of my young, little body. Mr. Rex spanks my ass. I am so ready to cum. We reach orgasm together as we scream out each other’s name.

By the time it is all over, I feel as though I have been in a car accident. Mr. Rex pulls me up by my hair and walks me over to his personal executive washroom with that butt plug still up my ass. He turns on the jacuzzi bath. I pull that big purple butt plug out of my body . We climb into the jacuzzi and slowly wash each other’s bodies as I look out of the huge floor to ceiling windows. Mr. Rex makes me wash off his body. I am more than happy to accommodate him. As I run a wet sponge over Mr. Rex’s strong back, I’m hoping that my boss has forgiven me.

“Me, you and your editor will need to meet,” my boss informs me. That really scares the hell out of me. Knowing Mr. Rex’s temper, I don’t want to be in the same room when the he unloads on my editor.

“Can’t I just tell my editor that the story is dead?”

“I need to ensure that he won’t run the story.”

“How will you do that, sir?”

“I have my ways.”

Oh fuck. That’s not the answer that I wanted to hear. I am starting to wonder what I have gotten myself into. As I finish cleaning off my boss, I seriously consider contacting my editor to warn him to leave the country. Mr. Rex never handles any situation gently. And I am seriously starting to fear for the life of my editor.

We get dressed and head back into the office. “Contact your editor and tell him that you want to meet tonight. But do not tell him that I will be there,” Mr. Rex orders. I pull out my now deactivated Restricted Access elevator card and remember that my computer has been confiscated.

“Sir, Mr. Skoca de-activated my card and my computer has been confiscated,” I mumble.

Mr. Rex opens one of his desk drawers and tosses me another Restricted Access card. “I’ll call Mr. Skoca and have your computer returned to you.”

I look at my boss and can’t help but ask, “Does that mean that I am not fired?”

Mr. Rex walks up to me and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Do you want to go?”

I look into the eyes of this sexy, strong, domineering man. Of course, I don’t want to go. But I am also scared to death of him. With every ounce of strength, I tell the T. Rex, “I want to be with you.”

“Then you must be loyal and obey my every order.”

“I will, Mr. Rex.”

With that, I leave my boss’s office more conflicted than ever. My boss wants to keep me around. And I want nothing more than to remain in the arms of the T. Rex. However, I am really scared of what my boss will do to the poor, unsuspecting editor. I walk to the elevator and use Mr. Rex’s “gold card” to open the doors. There is something so relaxing about having this card in my hand. When my other card was deactivated, I felt like one of my limbs were cut off. I never want to lose access to Mr. Rex ever again!

I return to the eighty-first floor and walk back to my old desk. When I turn the corner to the executive assistant’s area, I am horrified to find Mr. Skoca there with this “muscle.” I almost turn back and run. However, Mr. Rex has already said that I can stay. What should I be afraid of? I nervously walk to my desk to see the Director of Security hovering over my laptop. Mr. Skoca looks up and has an irritated look on his face as I approach.

“Miss Bandis,” Mr. Skoca says in a cold and intimidating voice.

“Good morning, Mr. Skoca.”

“I have been informed that you are to stay with the firm.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I would never dare question any order from Mr. Rex. And I don’t fully understand what is going on,” the Director of Security says as he looms his tall body over mine. “But I want to make it clear that I have my eyes watching you twenty-four, seven.”

I swallow hard and look up at this man who doesn’t have any love lost for me. “I understand, Mr. Skoca. Everything that I do is at the direction of Mr. Rex.”

With that, Mr. Skoca turns on my laptop. “Your laptop is back online,” he growls.

“Thank you, sir.”

The Director of Security leaves. I do not sit at my desk until I watch him disappear around the corner. When he is gone, I sit down at my chair and just bury my head in my hands. This has been a hell of a morning. And it looks like my day is not even close to being over. I have to contact my editor. I grab my iPhone and head out of the building. Since I am in downtown Dallas, it should be no problem finding a public wi-fi hotspot.

I walk into a Starbucks and contact my editor via the e-mail address provided for me. Even though Mr. Rex knows my true identity, I still opt to contact my editor, Harold Gregg, outside of the Rex Building. I am going to ask for Harold to meet me. But I want to make sure that he has a fighting chance. I order a vanilla flavored coffee and take a seat by the window, watching to make sure Mr. Skoca - or his muscle - isn’t snooping around on me. I open my phone and type this message to my editor:
Harold. It’s Julie. Contact me ASAP.

I sit there and drink the coffee, hoping that my editor gets back to me as soon as possible. Less than five minutes later, I get a reply.

What’s up?

We need to meet tonight. 10PM.

You have info?

We need to talk.

Okay.

One more thing. Bring a gun.

Why?!


Just to be cautious.

I end the conversation as quick as I started. My head is throbbing. Did I tell my editor to bring a gun?! What the fuck is wrong with me?! I just want to make sure Harold is safe. My head spins as I walk out of the coffee shop. I’m sending Harold into a meeting where the most powerful man in Texas will ambush him. On top of that, Harold is going to be armed. Fuck. This is not good.

***

The rest of the workday does not go well for me. I watch the clock, dreading the hour when Mr. Rex would leave the office and take me down to meet my editor. To make things worse, Mr. Skoca has been shadowing me every time I leave Mr. Rex’s office. The guy is so far up my ass, he might as well have been that purple butt plug in my boss’s office. At 9:00 p.m., we finish our status meeting with the Asia Managing Directors. After everyone leaves Mr. Rex’s office, my boss gathers his things. “Let’s go,” Mr. Rex says as he escorts me out of the office.

We head to the elevators, escorted by two men. One of the two men speaks into his phone, declaring, “Rex is headed your way.” All four of us get into the elevator. We travel all the way down to the garage where a large Rolls-Royce coupe is waiting for us. One of Mr. Rex’s personal automobiles, I assume. Even though I am dreading this evening, I am now kinda excited that I will be riding in a Rolls-Royce for the first time.

Mr. Rex opens the door for me. It’s an unexpected and gentlemanly act that really impresses me. I thank him. He walks around the front of the running automobile and gets inside. We speed out of the garage and travel through the near empty downtown Dallas streets. “So where are we headed?” Mr. Rex asks me.

“We are meeting at the Denny’s near my apartment. It’s on Medical District Drive near the hospital.”

Mr. Rex hops on I-30 and takes it over to the aforementioned Denny’s location. My heart is starting to pound. I am really hoping that Harold did not bring the gun. He is probably already nervous. And when Mr. Rex pops in to see him, there is no telling what could go down.

We arrive at Denny’s about fifteen minutes early. Mr. Rex parks his Rolls-Royce in the Denny’s parking lot which, I am sure, is a first in the history of this restaurant’s location. My boss is completely calm. The same can not be said about me. My head is spinning. I watch the analog clock as the time ticks closer to 10:00.

“Is that him?” Mr. Rex asks as he points to my shifty-eyed editor walking into the restaurant.

“Yes, that’s him.”

We watch as Harold nervously walks to a booth and sits down. Oh fuck. My editor looks paranoid. Now, I am sure he is carrying a weapon. The situation is just getting worse and worse by the second.

“Alright, it’s your turn,” Mr. Rex says to me. I look at my boss, take a deep breath and open the door. I nervously walk up to the front entrance of the Denny’s. There are not many people inside. It is eerily quiet. Harold and I make instant eye contact. I notice that my editor has his hands tucked inside his jacket.

“Julie,” my editor spits out with a bit of trepidation in his voice.

“Hey Harold,” I respond calmly. As I sit down at the other side of the table, I notice that his hands are still in his pockets.

“Were you followed?” he asks.

I don’t answer right away. That seems to make my editor more nervous. So I flat out ask him, “Did you bring a gun?”

“Oh yeah. Look, I know what we are dealing with here. I want to make sure the both of us are okay,” Harold explains in a rushed manner.

“Alright, listen to me. I should have never told you to bring a gun. I was overreacting to a situation.”

“What situation?!”

As I try to explain, I hear front entrance door swing open. I turn around. Mr. Rex swaggers into the restaurant. Now, my boss may not be recognizable. But he is a big, muscular man. The kind of man that intimidates by his sheer size. I look back at Harold and see his eyes open wide at the sight of this six-foot, five-inch man walking towards our table. I reach over and grab my editor by the shoulder and tell him, “Everything is okay. He is not going to harm us.”

I’m looking at Harold and this man’s face does not look good. He is pale and sweaty. That is not making me feel any more comfortable. I look up and see Mr. Rex standing over the table. He looks down at the editor.

“Do you know who I am?” Mr. Rex asks.

Harold shakes his head. Sweat drips down to his double-chin. Little bits of spit puddle on the side of his lips. “No,” Harold squeaks.

“You certainly have an interest in me,” the T. Rex says. Now it becomes crystal clear for the editor.

“Trent Rex?” Harold says with a gasp.

The CEO is Rex Industries sits down next to me. He takes a moment to examine the table in front of him. He looks over at the laminated menus next to the napkin dispenser. My guess is that the richest man in Texas doesn’t spend much time inside of a Denny’s restaurant. The CEO places his big, beefy hands on the table. They are clenched into a fist. Something that is not lost on both myself and the very frightened editor.