Money Shot (82 page)

I slowly walk towards his door. Quietly, but not too quiet, so he can hear me approaching and won’t be completely startled by appearance.

I even knock, before I dare to enter.

“Yes?” He asks, sounded surprised.

That surprise even widens when he sees me walking in.

“Lacey,” he gasps. “What are you still doing here?”

He is sitting at his desk, not folding paper cranes for a change, but appears to be actually working. His office is brightly lit, maybe to keep him from becoming tired too early.

“I wanted to finish a few things so my last day tomorrow won’t be too stressful,” I explain. “Are you always here this late?”

He shakes his head. “No, but a few things were left undone earlier, because of our little party.”

“Oh.” I say, feeling guilty. He doesn’t give the impression as if he wants me to stay around any longer. I have already kept him from work once today and should probably leave.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you,” I say, getting ready to excuse myself.

He looks up at me, smiling. “What did you want, then?”

I look back at him, puzzled by his question. It’s a good one—what did I want?

“I was just...” I utter. “I was just surprised to see that there were still lights on and wanted to check if you maybe forgot to turn them off.”

“Is that so,” he says. He looks contemplative, as if there’s something he wants to say, but doesn’t know how.

I linger, waiting. He looks exhausted. His tie is loosened and he has opened the upper buttons of his shirt. I have never seen him like that—and of course all my giddy brain can think of is how sexy he looks. I am so glad I won’t have this weird struggle come next week.

Or am I? There is a growing part inside of me that is sad about the exact same thing.

He gets up from his office chair and approaches me.

“Look,” he says. “I am sorry if I acted inappropriately earlier. I am exhausted and didn’t have much to eat today. That champagne got to my head a little quicker than usually.”

I shake my head, feeling my cheeks blush instantly. “Oh, no. It’s fine really. There was nothing inappropriate in what you said.”

He looks surprised. “There wasn’t?”

“Um, well... ”

“I called you a good girl twice today,” he whispers. “And you flinched at it as if it was accompanied by a good spanking.”

Fuck, he noticed.
And he notices now, too. He sees the blood rushing to my cheeks, my hands trembling and the way my breathing changes as he approached me. He is standing in front of me now, looking down on me with an irresistible hint of a smile. Daunting and intriguing, observing me closely.

I look up at him, my lips trembling as I open my mouth to speak.

“What are you trying to say?” I breathe, hardly audible.

“I’m not trying anything,” he replies. “Just observing.”

His eyes are on me, fixated, observing every little move I make, every hint of a reaction to what he is saying.

And I am not even trying to hide it at this point. I mirror his gaze, looking up at him with my lips slightly parted, silently pleading for a kiss. I want him to make the first move, to grab me by my hair, tilt my head back and kiss me, show me that he wants me more than anything or anyone else in this world.

But something in his observant behavior tells me that this won’t happen. He will not risk anything without me asking for it. Verbally and not just with my eyes.

It is for me to take the lead right now—but I have never been good with that.

Of course, he notices my struggle. A little smirk on his face tells me that he not only sees it, but enjoys it, too. 

“I’m still not completely sure, though,” he finally whispers. 

“Sure?” I ask. “Sure of what?”

“Whether you are one.”

“Whether I am...?”

He narrows his eyes. “A good girl.”

The way he looks at me, the way he speaks—his demeanor sends shivers down my spine, turning my bones into Jell-O. I feel weak and exposed, but still strangely safe, caught in his fangs already, despite the fact that absolutely nothing has happened yet. 

I could still leave. Just walk out the door, never look back, record this day, this evening as a few awkward instances that suggested a spark between me and my boss without anything ever happening. No sins committed, no trouble caused for anybody.

Except I can’t. His stern gaze and his voice are holding me back. I am already trapped.

I might as well give in.

I don’t dare to touch or kiss. No, I will not be the one to initiate physical intimacy. 

But there is a way to demonstrate my will and initiate a different kind of commitment. I need to try.

“I can be, Sir,” I whisper. And without looking away, keeping my eyes locked on his, I slowly descend and get down on my knees. 

I am still looking up at him as I sit down on my heels. I slowly part my knees, as much as my skirt allows and place my hands on them, palms up.

This is the only slave position I have ever been taught, the position my first dominant lover made me wait in. I have no idea if it is universal, if it is understand as a display of submission for anyone else—for him -, but it is the only thing I am courageous enough to try at this point.

Now I am the one who is observing him. Waiting for a reaction.

He looks down at me, still with a stern expression. But something has changed. His eyes flicker with understanding. He is not waiting anymore, no hint of expectation. 

A hint of a smile flees across his face. “Lower your eyes.”

I smile as I follow his command, lowering my head so my eyes are facing my hands on my knees.

He pauses for a moment, still standing directly in front of me. All I can see of him now are the tips of his black and polished shoes.

“The next time I tell you to do something,” he whispers. “I want you to reply with ‘Yes, Sir’. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” I obediently whisper without looking up.

“Good girl.”

He moves around me, walking towards the door to close it. 

My heart is racing. 

What am I doing? This is my boss for God’s sake!

Not for long, my evil subconscious whispers. Tomorrow is your last day. After that you are nothing but acquaintances. An older, wealthy and insanely sexy man and you.

He dims the light, which calms my nerves tremendously. Everything is a little bit easier when it is done in the dark.

He doesn’t switch off the lights completely though, leaving them on just enough to see my hands and knees in front of me. The room is bathed in a warm, subtle light with a red hint. I never knew the rooms here could be lit this way. It’s probably a special function for his office, though. He is the boss after all.

I can hear his steps behind me. He must be standing directly behind my back now, I can feel his presence, but cannot hear him anymore. The only thing I hear is my heavy breathing. I need to calm down.

Yet, I do the exact opposite and flinch when I feel his finger tips on my neck. He gently runs along the vertebra of my neck until he reaches the low collar of my blouse I take a deep breath as his fingers disappear, leaving me shaken—and oddly aroused. My position causes me to feel exposed and vulnerable. Especially the slightly spread legs, even more than the bent head and the upwards pointing palms that are inactively resting on my knees. 

He leaves me waiting and walks towards the window to close the blinds. 

“Get up on your feet,” he hisses as he is done. 

“Yes, Sir,” I hear myself say as I follow his command and get back up on my feet. 

My head is still lowered when he comes back to me. 

He comes to halt closely in front of me and reaches out, gently pushing my head back up with the index finger of his right hand. “Look at me and listen closely.”

I do as I am told. The light is dim, but I can still see his face perfectly now that he is this close. His expression is serious and determinant.

“Now,” he whispers. “As I see it, you have just given me permission to do things that both of us may enjoy, but that most would deem inappropriate given the circumstances under which we met. Is that correct?”

I nod. “Yes, Sir. That is correct.”

“Are you aware that this could bring both of us in trouble?” He asks.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Can I count on your discretion?”

I nod. “Yes, Sir. Absolutely.”

“I have no interest in causing you any trouble or harming you in any way,” he adds. “Do you trust me, when I say that?”

I hesitate for a moment, surprised at his intensity, his almost loving care. How could I not trust him when he is looking at me like this?

“Yes, Sir,” I reply. 

“Say it then.”

“I trust you, Sir.”

He smiles. A true, honest smile.

“Good,” he says. “I assume you are familiar with safe words?”

“Yes, Sir, I am.”

“What do you say when you want me to stop?”

“Red, Sir.”

He nods. “Good girl.”

He lets go of my chin and takes a step back, pausing for a moment to look at me in silence.

“I need you to undress,” he says eventually. “Slowly. And every item you take off needs to be folded and neatly placed on my desk. Understand?”

I nod. “Yes, Sir.”

I start with my blouse, slowly unbuttoning it from the top.

“Look at me while you do it,” he says when I lower my head.

“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, raising my head again to meet his eyes.

I take off the blouse and fold it as good as I can without taking my eyes away from him. He subtly nods, beckoning me to place it on the desk behind me. I turn around and follow his orders, placing the blouse just next to one of his paper crane creations.

Stepping out of my black pumps is actually relieve and causes me to let out a little sigh as I do. I neatly place them next to the desk on the floor before I continue with my pencil skirt. Getting out of that thing while looking halfway graceful is close to impossible, at least for me. It is such a tight fit. I try to pull it down as elegantly as possible and even forget about the embarrassment of being almost naked in front of my boss for a moment, because I am too occupied with not looking silly.

Unfortunately, I also forget to look at him while I take the skirt off. I remember by the time I am done with it. I am folding the skirt in my arms and hastily raise my head to meet his eyes.

He casts me a naughty smirk and subtly shakes his head. Of course he would find reasons for me to get in trouble. I am just making it a little easier for him by forgetting little things like this.

I finish getting undressed until I am standing in front of him in my underwear. Luckily, I have opted for a nicer kind today, despite my white bra not matching my black thong.