He Touches Me (6 page)

“It all looks good.” He looks good. I glide my tongue over my bottom lip and his eyes darken. “I'll eat whatever you don't want.” There's more food displayed on the table than the three of us can possibly devour.

“Try the beef.” He loads beef, vegetables, and rice onto my plate. I doubt I can finish it all. “If you don't like it, you can try something else.”

“Mr. Blaine ate beef teriyaki once a week during start-­up.” Fran smiles. “Chinese Palace has a framed copy of our first order hanging on their wall.”

She spreads her cloth napkin over her lap. I do the same, tucking the folded five dollar bill under my ass. Blaine fills his plate with beef teriyaki also.

I can't look at him. I'm too conscious of his proximity, his broad shoulders, his scent, the warmth of his body. We're not in his backyard. We're at his place of business and I should control myself, be professional.

Fran digs into her orange ginger chicken. I bring a forkful of glistening beef, onion, and white rice to my mouth, the aroma drawing another rumble from my empty stomach.

The flavor explodes in my mouth, overwhelming my senses. I close my eyes, savoring the tang of soy, the bite of ginger, and the hint of honey, the sweetness unexpected. The beef is juicy and delicious, the onion crisp. I moan softly, unable to hold back my appreciation.

Blaine shifts in his seat, pushing his right leg against my left calf. I stiffen and open my eyes, sexual awareness surging up my body. His gaze is fixed on my face, his eyes as dark as the raging storm outside, his expression stark and raw.

“I like it.” My voice is husky, betraying my need.

“Too much,” he murmurs. He tilts his head toward Fran. His assistant is focused intently on her plate, her face pink, a small smile curling her lips. “Eat, Anna.”

I comply, happily devouring the stir fry. Blaine frowns as he eats. Is his cock hard, pressing against his dress pants, concealed by the table? I wiggle in my chair, excited by this possibility.

While Fran and Blaine eat, I'll quietly, stealthily help him with his condition. I'll slip to the thick, soft carpet, crawl under the table, unzip his pants, wrap my fingers around him, and pump him, my grip exactly right. I stroke my fork the way I'd like to stroke Blaine's shaft, up and down, polishing the metal with my fingertips.

A bead of pre-­cum will form on his tip and I'll rub my thumb across his slit, spreading his glistening essence over his skin. Then I'll lick him clean, laving him with the flat of my tongue. I smack my lips, my action drawing Blaine's gaze. He's large. When I push my lips over him, taking him deeper and deeper, he'll fill my mouth. I suck on my fork's tongs.

“Anna,” Blaine growls softly. “Not here.”

How does he always know what I'm thinking? I gaze at him, awed by this ability.

“How is Rob feeling?” he asks Fran, pointedly ignoring me.

Her smile wobbles. “He's slowly getting better.” Fran talks about her sick husband, a man she clearly loves. Blaine asks questions, his interest genuine. I eat and listen and try not to think about sucking his cock. I learn more about Fran, my boss, and Blaine, the man I care too much about.

Finally, I put down my fork, unable to fit any more food in my stomach. Fran closes the containers, more than half of the assorted stir fries remaining.

“Leave that, Fran.” Blaine stands. “We'll take care of it and I'll see Anna out. Go home to Rob.”

Fran leaps to her feet. “Anna will take care of the food.” She smiles at me and I smile back, happy to have another task to do. I stack their plates to take to the kitchen. “I'll leave an envelope on your desk, Anna. Do what you can with the sorting. The rest can wait until tomorrow night.”

“I'll try to finish it.” I don't want her to regret hiring me.

“You've already done more than I expected you to do,” she reassures me. “Thank you, Mr. Blaine.” She departs in a hurry, shutting the door behind her, leaving the two of us alone in his office.

The five dollar bill flutters to the floor. “I didn't pay her for the food,” I realize, horrified. I retrieve the money and step toward the door.

“There's no need to pay her.” Blaine catches my wrist, his grip stimulatingly tight, his skin coarse and warm. “Blaine Technologies reimburses employees for meals when they work late.”

“Oh.” I tilt my head back, meeting his gaze. Will he kiss me? I lower my gaze to his lips and my heart pounds.

“Not here.” Blaine releases me and steps back. “Not tonight.”

“Yes, not here,” I reluctantly agree, the delay frustrating yet prudent. I want to be taken seriously in my new job and this won't happen if I'm caught kissing the boss.

I place the food containers in the plastic bags, wishing to reduce the number of trips I have to take to the kitchen. “I can leave the beef teriyaki in the fridge for you.” He'll have lunch for tomorrow.

“I'd like that.” Blaine's lips twitch. “Take what you want and then discard the rest.”

“I'm not discarding any of it.” I glare at him, outraged by the suggestion.

“Good. Take it all home, then.” Blaine sits behind his desk, power and strength rolling off his broad shoulders. He turns his head toward one of his screens and taps on a slim black keyboard.

I make multiple trips, taking the food and dishes to the kitchen. I place the beef teriyaki on the top shelf of the neatly organized refrigerator, labeling the container with Blaine's full name. I reserve the orange ginger chicken for Fran.

I double bag the two remaining containers and place this windfall in my tote. Fran's dry cleaning garment bag now hangs behind my desk. My name is fixed to it with a sticky note.

A crisp white envelope is propped against one of the boxes. It's addressed to me. I open the envelope, eager to complete whatever additional task Fran has left for me. Twenty dollar bills spill out, too many bills for one night's work. There's no note. I stare at the money, my heart racing. She must be paying me for the entire week.

I stuff the bills back into the envelope and slip the envelope into my tote. I work as fast as I can, sorting the boxes at top speed, determined to prove myself worthy of such a large weekly salary. Perspiration trickles down my spine. My shoulders ache. My fingers sting with shallow paper cuts.

“It's time to go home, Anna.”

I jump, having thought I was alone, and look up, my vision blurry. Blaine leans against the closed door of his office, his arms folded and the corners of his grim lips upturned. His black hair and dark eyes contrast vividly against his tanned face.

Blaine meets my gaze and my breath hitches, his emotions open, his need for me unabashed. He finished his work for the night and he's ready to play. I want to play also, my body aching for Blaine's touch, but I haven't yet completed the tasks Fran assigned me. I worked too slowly and must deny both of us.

 

Chapter Five

“
I
DIDN'T FINI
SH.”
I frown. I have two more boxes to sort.

“You'll never finish.” Blaine chuckles. “There will always be another box to sort, another piece of software to write, another company to purchase.” He rakes his fingers through his black hair, releasing the unruly strand over his forehead. “Come. We have to leave.”

“I'll work harder tomorrow.” I close the box I've been working on, clasp my tote, and struggle with the garment bag. Blaine leans over me, his body heat and scent engulfs me, and he unhooks Fran's gift.

“Thank you,” I whisper. I expect him to hand it to me. He doesn't, draping the bag over his right shoulder. “Do I need a pass card to exit the building?”

“You're leaving with me.” Blaine's eyes glint, his tone thrillingly possessive. We walk to the elevators. I press the button and we wait, sexual tension stretching tight between us. I grip my tote, the bag containing my week's pay and the leftovers.

The elevator doors open. I enter first. He waves his pass card over the reader and taps on P1, the first level of parking.

I frown. “Can I exit to the street from there?”

Blaine meets my gaze, his lips flat, black brows knitted together. “You're leaving with me,” he repeats. “I'll always protect you, Anna.” He looks over my shoulder.

I glance behind me. There's nothing, only the wall of the elevator. The mirror-­covered wall. My pussy moistens, my excitement escalating. He's watching me through the mirror. I touch the collar of my blouse.

“Not tonight,” Blaine rumbles, his unspoken promise making my heart and imagination race.

On some future night, after a long day at work, we'll enter the elevator. I'll remove my clothes slowly, teasing him, taunting him with my body, my small breasts and bare ass reflecting in the mirrors. Blaine will watch me from all angles, wanting me, needing me, unable to wait to have me.

He'll bend me over, his rough hands flattening on my back. I'll grip the railing for support, the metal cool against my fingers, while he unzips his black dress pants, freeing his large cock.

Blaine will nudge against my exposed pussy, his tip thick and hot. He'll pull back and drive forward, burying his cock with one hard thrust.

I part my lips, my breathing growing ragged as I fantasize.

Skin will slap against skin as we rut like two wild animals. He'll ride me hard, losing his renowned control, my ass and thighs heating. I'll tilt my hips, taking him deeper and deeper.

I toy with the buttons on my borrowed sweater, the garment too warm, too concealing.

“Anna.” Blaine's growl brings me back to the present. Want and need reflects in his brilliant green eyes.

I gaze up at him, infused with a feminine power I only feel when I'm with him. “I was thinking of our future.” I lick my bottom lip.

Blaine's gaze tracks the movement. “Not here.” He leans closer and inhales deeply, his nostrils flaring. I arch my back slightly, curving into him, into his enticing heat. His breath wafts on my neck.

We remain locked in place, standing too close together to be mere employee and CEO. My breasts ache for his touch. My pussy pulses with desire.

The elevator rings a warning and the doors open, breaking the sexual spell. Blaine exits first and I follow him. A sleek black limousine idles nearby, the windows dark.

The driver, smartly dressed in a black suit, white shirt, black tie, and a black cap, opens one of the back doors. “Evening Mr. Blaine.” His brown eyes sparkle, the man young, handsome, his brown hair cut short. “Miss.”

“Ted.” Blaine gestures for me to enter first.

I duck into the vehicle. The seats are shiny black leather and face each other. As there is room in the forward facing seat for both of us, I choose that one. Blaine disappointingly sits across from me, and the door shuts, the light dimming. I place my tote on the black carpet and glide my fingers over the seat. There aren't any seat belts.

There's a jolt and then nothing, the only indication we're moving being the arousing vibration under my ass. Blaine drapes the garment bag on the seat beside him and leans back in his seat, his gaze fixed on me, his green eyes smoldering.

“Here,” he rumbles.

“Here?” I glance at the partition between us and the driver. It has been lowered, the back of the man's head visible. “He'll see.” I unbutton my sweater, the thought of the driver watching our encounter exciting me.

“I'm the only one you should be concerned about.” Blaine commands my full attention. “Take off your clothes, nymph.”

The driver is a man Blaine has chosen. Blaine would never allow me to be harmed, to be seen by someone who could hurt me. My fingers tremble as I remove the sweater. Blaine's eyelids partially lower, his eyes darkening.

I remove the blouse quickly and toss it to the side, removing the temptation to cover myself again. Light reflects off the gold key dangling between my bra-­clad breasts. Does the driver notice? I raise my gaze to the partition. He hasn't turned his head.

I shimmy out of my oversized pants. Does he need to turn his head to watch me? I sit in the backseat of Blaine's car in my bra and panties. Can the driver see me in his rearview mirror? I cup my small breasts. Does he like what he sees?

“You're beautiful, Anna. Never doubt that,” Blaine drawls, reading my mind, a talent he has. My insecurities fade under the intensity of his gaze. “Show me everything.”

“Only you see me.” I'm invisible to everyone else. I unhook my bra, allowing the delicate white cotton to fall to the floor. I run my hands over my slight curves, brush my thumbs over my tight nipples, and I tremble. “You promised to suck on my breasts tonight,” I remind him.

Blaine's eyes flash. “I always keep my promises.”

“Yes.” I pull my panties down, revealing my short brown curls and my pink pussy lips. “Will you fill me with your cock?” I spread my legs wide, allowing Blaine to look, to see everything. Is the driver sneaking a peak also? Is his cock as hard as Blaine's cock is, my billionaire's pants tented?

“Not tonight.” Blaine denies me yet again.

“Don't you want to fuck me?” I slowly strum my wet folds back and forth, teasing Blaine, trying to tempt him. “I'll be so tight around you. My virgin pussy will hug your big cock.” Can the driver hear us? Moisture trickles down my inner thighs.

Blaine groans. “Patience, nymph.” He drops to his knees before me, positioning his broad shoulders between my spread legs. “Let me savor you.”

He catches my face between his big hands and captures my lips, his kiss rough and demanding. I gasp and Blaine pushes his tongue into my mouth, invading my body with no delay, no hesitation, taking what he wants, and he wants me. He lashes my tongue as though punishing me for teasing him, and I accept his ruling, opening wider, our mouths meshing, becoming one.

Blaine tastes of beef teriyaki, tangy with a hint of sweetness. He smells of sandalwood and musk, no trace of cigar smoke clinging to him. I grasp his jacket-­clad shoulders, holding onto him as he conquers and claims my mouth.

He skims his fingers along my sides, caressing tantalizingly close to my breasts, and I shift, lifting my hips toward him, impatient for his touch. Blaine chuckles, his shoulders shaking. “You're so eager.” He mouths over my chin, down my neck.

“For you.” I allow my head to drop back on the soft leather seat. “I'm eager for you, Blaine.” I thread my fingers through his soft black hair.

He lifts my gold key, wrapping the ribbon around one of his hands, putting a gentle pressure on the back of my neck, securing me completely. I tremble, putting my body, my heart, my soul in his scarred palms.

Blaine lowers his head, fastens his hot mouth over my left nipple and sucks hard. I scream, bucking against him, coming with one tug of his grim lips, passion drenching me as thoroughly as the thunderstorm I danced in. His cheeks indent as he ruthlessly works my nipple, extending my release. I hold him to my breast, floating on euphoria.

Blaine releases my nipple with a juicy pop, my sensitive flesh red and raw, marked by his mouth. “You came from breast play,” he murmurs. “You are a treasure, Anna.” He wraps one arm around my waist and rests his cheek in the shallow valley between my heaving breasts.

A treasure he watches. The black ribbon around my neck remains twisted between his fingers. Is he the only one who watches me? I lift my gaze to the partition. The driver hasn't moved. He must have heard me scream, heard me come. He would have looked, seen me in the throes of release, my breasts bare and my pussy wet, open.

Blaine licks my right nipple with his rough tongue, patiently reviving my desire flick by flick. I reach between us and rub my hand over the bulge in his pants, savoring his length, his girth, learning his shape through the cloth.

He rolls his hips into my clumsy groping, helping me find a rhythm, and a flush of triumph sweeps over me. Blaine is finally allowing me to touch him, to help him find satisfaction. I stroke him, eager to please him as he has pleased me, to finally show him how I feel.

“Anna.” Blaine pulls me onto the limousine's floor. The rough carpet chafes my tender skin, the burn spiking my arousal higher. I bend my knees, cradling him as he settles between my thighs. His weight is heavy, sexy, the layers of clothing frustrating.

Blaine buries his face in the curve where my neck meets my shoulder and he grinds against me, my juices wetting, slicking his dress pants, easing the friction. I undulate under him, caressing him with my naked body, shameless in my need, my want.

We move together, woman and man, assistant and CEO, struggling graduate and ruthless billionaire, vastly different yet the same in all ways that count, joined in our quest for fulfillment.

Blaine rotates his hips, rubbing his cloth-­covered cock head into my clit, winding sweet emotion tighter and tighter around me. I'm close but I can't come alone. I won't come alone. Not tonight.

I slide my hand down his back, lift his jacket and slip my fingers under the waistband of his pants. My fingertips touch hot skin and Blaine jerks against me.

“Anna.” His voice is sinfully deep, lowered with passion.

“Come for me, Blaine,” I murmur into his ear. “Show me you want me.”

He hesitates for two endless heartbeats and I curse my impulsive words. I've lost him to his ironclad restraint. He'll pull away, leaving me to once again find fulfillment alone.

Blaine raises his head and his gaze meets mine. I suck in my breath. His green eyes are wide and wild. A tremor rolls over me. I've never seen him like this, so out of control. It is exciting, arousing, and a little bit scary.

“I want you, Anna.” He yanks on his pants. The top button of his pants pops, bouncing against my stomach, and his zipper rasps. “Never doubt that.”

His cock freed, Blaine lowers onto me, laying siege to my body, claiming me. Skin meets hot skin, his hard shaft pressing against my pussy lips. I've never been this close to a man, this close to Blaine. I've never trusted anyone this much.

“Yes.” I tremble as his cock glides over me, wetted by my pussy juices. He doesn't enter me. He doesn't prod or push against my entrance. He knows I'm not yet ready for that step, despite my teasing words.

Instead, we rub together, fucking without entry, his powerful body rocking against mine. I clutch his fabric-­clad shoulders, matching his movements, rolling my hips, restrained between the car and Blaine's unyielding muscle.

He grunts, the animalistic sounds from my restrained man pushing me toward the edge of ecstasy, more proof that he's lost control. I've made him lose control. I love it. I clasp his ass cheeks, urging him to move faster and faster, to throw himself completely into this one wonderful moment, not thinking, only feeling.

Blaine rounds his back, humping against me. I dig my short blunt fingernails into his skin, my skin heating, humming. He feels so good, so right, our bodies meant to be one. Perspiration drips down my cheek. His long thick shaft powers along my moist folds. His balls slam against me.

“Come first.” Blaine drags his teeth over my neck, his dominance, the hint of danger, exciting me. My tremors increase in intensity, shaking my body. “And I'll join you.”

He'll come for me, showing me everything, all of him. “Yes,” I whimper, close, so very close, needing a little more. “Blaine.”

“Now, Anna.” Blaine nips my earlobe, the sharp pain freeing me.

I scream his name and drive my hips upward, plummeting head first into the abyss, trusting him to fall, to not let me fall alone. My clit smacks against his cock head and I lose my mind, twisting and writhing underneath him, not caring who watches, who listens, Blaine being my entire world.

“Anna,” he bellows, thrusting his cock along my stomach. Hot cum splatters on my skin, branding me with his musk, his essence. He thrusts once, twice, three times more, shudders, and collapses, pinning me to the limousine floor.

The floor no longer vibrates. The vehicle is silent except for our breathing. I glance at the partition. The driver hasn't moved and I no longer care if he watches. I no longer care about anyone other than Blaine. I wrap my arms and legs around my billionaire lover, holding him to me.

Blaine's chest rises and falls against my bare breasts, his warm breath wafts over my neck, and his cock softens, pressing against my stomach. I savor the feel of his skin, the weight of his body.

He groans and pulls away. The cool air wafts between us and I shiver. Blaine presses the side of the limousine and a compartment opens. He pulls out four tissues and dabs them over my skin, cleaning the sticky cum off my stomach.

He doesn't meet my gaze, not once, and while his touch is gentle, his shoulders are rigid and his jaw is jutted. Blaine tosses the tissue into yet another hidden compartment and he pulls his pants up, his movements sharp and jerky.