Soft Skills (2 page)

A drop of fluid beaded at the swollen tip. He touched it to her lips and pulled back. “Lick your lips.”

She did. The slightly salty taste of him stirred up fond memories. With a smile, she blinked innocently at him as she slowly flicked the tip of her tongue over her mouth. Playing the coquette never failed to get Jonathan’s attention.

“Open wide,” Cunningham barked. He shoved his fingers into her mouth and forced her to comply. He held her like that until Jonathan surged in. “Suck him, girl,” Cunningham rasped as he stroked her throat.

Out the corner of her eye, she could see that Cunningham’s cock was demanding to be let loose from his pants. Apparently the most expensive clothing money could buy had nothing on her gloss-covered lips.
 

“Relax your throat. I want your nose pressed against his body.” Cunningham urged her forward via a touch to the back of her head, and Elle swallowed, allowing Jonathan’s cock to fill up her airway.

Jonathan groaned and began moving. He went from deep to deeper, then back to deep. She breathed shallowly. He was as hard and unyielding as stone, and she had to will herself to stay calm enough to work around what he was giving her.

“Now that your mouth is full, you can concentrate on listening instead of planning what you’re going to say next,” Cunningham said. “They called your work brilliant. And I agree that you excelled. You’re talented, you worked hard, and let’s admit it, you got lucky that the client recognized good work. Suppose it hadn’t happened like that? Suppose they called you a hack instead of a genius? Suppose they suggested that you were an idiot, that they suspected you were intentionally trying to ruin their image?”

He stooped and ran a large finger over her throat. She swallowed underneath his touch and felt Jonathan grow even harder, press even deeper.

Cunningham gathered a handful of the silky, pink shell and pulled up until the bottom was free from her skirt’s waistband. His hand, hot as fire, rested on her stomach.
 

Elle trembled. She didn’t know if he was heading north or south. She hoped south because if he touched her pussy, it meant he planned to spread her open and fuck her, and she desperately needed to be fucked.

Without straightening, he maneuvered himself behind her, his arms closing tight around her body. He slipped a hand under her bra, cupping her breast. He was so solid. And she loved the masculine way he smelled. She’d always felt that he smelled like power, a sort of pheromonal cocktail that announced to the world that he was a man to be wary of.

Elle’s nipple hardened underneath his palm, and she gasped. He rolled the aroused nub between his fingers, then tweaked it until Elle moaned her submission. The effort had her gagging on Jonathan’s cock. Jonathan fisted his hand in the roots of her hair and tightened his fingers, bringing tears to her eyes.

She coughed, fighting to breathe, but instead of pushing him away, she slid her hands around the back of his thighs, taking strength from him.

Cunningham’s lips brushed her ear. “I love how you fight your natural reflexes for me,” he murmured. He nipped her earlobe, then raked his teeth down her neck. Elle’s pussy throbbed. She needed to be touched. She pressed one of her hands into her lap and raised her tearful gaze to Jonathan, pleading.

Jonathan’s beautiful blue eyes pierced into her, daring her to touch herself. Trembling, Elle moved her hand away lest she be tempted.

Nolan stepped forward, his handsome, prep-boy features illuminated by lust. “Clever Elle. Knows how to avoid the devil. Which is more than I can say for you two. Our entire company is waiting in a restaurant that’s five minutes away, we’re supposed to be there in five minutes, yet here you two are getting your dicks wet.”

“Very wet,” Jonathan said, his voice jagged with desire. He slowly pulled back, and Cunningham wrapped his hands around Elle’s arms. As he stood, he effortlessly brought her up with him. Elle sighed as she looked up at his handsome, swarthy face. Cunningham might be scary as hell, but when he held her close, she knew she was safe.
 

“Five minutes?” Cunningham pretended to think, but his sadistic smile betrayed the true nature of his thoughts. “I suppose it would be bad form for all of us to be late. Leave if you need to, Nolan.”

“Or we can dispense with the foreplay,” Nolan growled. “Elle, strip.”

Her fingers fumbled with the side clasp of her skirt. Nolan pushed her hand away and yanked the skirt down over her thighs. Moments later, her panties met the same fate.

She shucked off the shell, and Jonathan took it from her with one hand and unhooked her bra with the other. Nolan slid the bra off her arms.

Now she was topless, dressed only in the garter belt, black lace-top thigh-highs, and her heels.

The men stepped back and admired her. She could feel their eyes caressing her hard nipples, sliding over her full breasts, down to where her waist narrowed, then lingering on the flare of her wide hips.
 

Jonathan’s cock still glistened from her earlier attentions. Cunningham unzipped his pants and took out his enormous erection. Elle loved looking at him. He was the largest, thickest man she’d ever seen—longer than many porn stars, and considering she had spent so many Friday nights in the company of her remote control and her collection of DVDs, she could say that with certainty. Just looking at his fat cock had her licking her lips.

“See, we can’t leave her like this,” Jonathan said, smirking. “It’s for the company’s good that we take care of her.” He looked down at his stiff organ. “And mine.”

Cunningham nodded slightly. “Excellent point. Elle, lean over the table, your legs spread.”

Elle managed to hide her triumphant smile until she turned. She slowly bent over before moving her feet apart. The bottoms of her high heels slid easily on the carpet.

“Hands behind your head.”

She obeyed, but Cunningham strode quickly to her and shoved a large hand between her legs. He forced her legs wider, and when he was satisfied, he steadied himself with one hand on her lower back.

Her pussy clenched. She knew what was about to happen, and the anticipation had her trembling all over like a storm-tossed leaf.

“Steady.” Cunningham leaned over her, pinning her beneath him. He mounted her with one sure thrust, held himself deep, then pulled out.

“No—” Elle gasped quietly. “Please. I’m so horny.” She tried to turn around, but Cunningham corrected her with a gentle shove.

His erection nudged against her ass, and Elle gasped. “No. Please. No. It’s been a few days, and I’m not ready—”

“I won’t be denied. Either call a timeout or be quiet.” His commanding voice made her toes curl. God, she loved it when he told her to shut up… “And Elle? If you persist in interrupting me, I’ll let Nolan have your ass.”

It was a solid threat. While Nolan wasn’t as large as Cunningham, his cock was still an object to be reckoned with. Nolan’s favorite pastime was to fuck her ass violently, making her scream in bliss and terror. Cunningham, despite his size, could be brutal or gentle, depending on his mood.

Apparently he was inclined to be generous. Still, Elle cried out as Cunningham pressed through the tight ring of reluctant flesh. She pursed her lips and exhaled shallowly. The burning turned to sweet bliss. “Good girl.” He placed his hands over hers and nuzzled her ear as he began fucking her with long, sure strokes. It was so dirty and degrading the way he ordered her around, her boss. He knew just how she liked it because he liked the same things too.

Cunningham straightened, pulling Elle up with him. He splayed his broad fingers and slid them under her thighs, supporting her, and he turned around slowly, Elle impaled on his dick.

“I’ve got you, Elle,” he said. “Pull your legs apart so that Nolan can fuck you.”

Nolan stroked his hands up the sheer stockings, stopping just above her knees. He spread her legs. “Grab here,” he said. “Hold your knees for me.”

She did with a whimper. How could she feel so safe and so exposed at the same time?

Nolan dropped to his knees, staring at her. She wanted to die of embarrassment.

Then his tongue lapped out, swirling through her delicate flesh. Elle began to shudder. She felt like she was being split open by Cunningham, and she loved it.

 
Cunningham was backing up, and he lowered himself into an executive chair. Nolan rose, readied his cock between her slick lips, and shoved himself into her.

“Oh!” Elle gasped.

Jonathan advanced. He caught her chin in his hand and turned her head toward him. “Open wide.” That was all the warning she got before he fucked into her with a long stroke.

All her holes, stretched full. They were ruining her, these men.
 

Jonathan grabbed her nipple and twisted it.

“Come for us,” Cunningham ordered. “Do it now.”

All the acute sensations coalesced into a wave of pure ecstasy. Elle moaned and Jonathan’s cock jerked in her mouth.

“Dammit, Elle, stay still,” Jonathan growled.

Cunningham yanked her head back, and she was trapped between the three lust-crazed men, each of them greedily compelling her to serve perfectly. Somehow, she must have pleased them. Her orgasming pussy squeezed around Nolan. As she groaned, her throat milked Jonathan’s cock.

Cunningham was hurting her the way she loved, forcing her to confront her need to be used by him, to be punished and forced. His hips came off the chair, and he anchored her between his large hands, holding her still as his powerful thighs slammed up. Each of his abrupt thrusts pushed her deeper onto Nolan’s shaft.

She was so breathless that she couldn’t swallow the gallons that spurted out of Jonathan. Warm liquid dribbled out the corner of her mouth, dripping onto her bare shoulder. Time seemed to slow as Cunningham indulged in his long, violent orgasm, and Nolan pushed deep and held himself there, his body quaking forcefully, a long groan tearing from his throat.

Cunningham finally sagged onto the chair. “Good girl,” he sighed. His breath was cool on her neck, and Elle suddenly realized that her hair was damp with perspiration.

Jonathan cupped the back of her head, but Elle stayed motionless around his cock, knowing he was too sensitive for her to move. Finally he released her with a little grunt and grabbed a box of tissues. Nolan and Cunningham each took a handful. They carefully pulled out of her, catching the spillage.

Jonathan helped her dress, his beautiful face screwed up in a mask of concentration as he adjusted her in her bra. “Seems I’m better at taking your clothes off,” he said finally, resigned. He leaned forward and nipped at her bottom lip, and Elle squealed.

Nolan swept his fingers through her hair, working out the little tangles. She loved how they pampered her after sex. Considering that most of the time they were sort of, well,
male
, it was a nice change.
 

“You might want to consider twisting it up in a bun,” Nolan said.

“That bad?”
 

He shrugged. “Bad? I’d say good, but I happen to appreciate a little JBF hair.”

“What’s JBF hair?”

“Just-been-fucked hair. Sometimes I wonder if you’ve been living under a rock.”

“Lucky rock,” Jonathan said with a wink.

Cunningham looked as fresh as if he’d just come in for the day. Elle never knew how he put himself back together so quickly. She tucked the bottom of the shell into the skirt.

Cunningham caught her chin and raised it so that she was forced to look at him. “We got distracted. About earlier. What I wanted to tell you is that there’s a tradition at the company. Whenever you have your first big client success, everyone acts like you messed up.”

Jonathan ran a hand up under her skirt. “Fixing your stockings,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

Elle just bet he was, but now wasn’t the time to flirt with him. “Acts like you messed up? Don’t you think that’s kind of mean?”

Cunningham frowned. “It wasn’t my idea, but I have to confess that over the years, I’ve come to see the value.”

Jonathan’s shirt collar was flipped up. He looped his tie around his neck. “It’s what Cunningham was explaining earlier.” He passed one end of the tie around itself, the silk whispering seductively as he deftly formed a complicated knot. “You had a great success, but if the client had been unreasonable—”
 

“Or a jackass,” Nolan said.

“We don’t call the clients jackasses,” Jonathan said disapprovingly. “Not even if they’ve got long ears and a donkey tail.”

Cunningham tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Elle blushed at the unexpected intimacy. Cunningham wasn’t exactly the super-affectionate type. “You hit it out of the park today. Next time you might strike out. Do your best, fight for your work… but never let success or failure at work define how you see yourself. I’ve seen this business mess with too many people’s heads.”

“Yeah,” Nolan said darkly. “Wouldn’t want to end up chasing profits year after year when we already have more than enough money and could go out and enjoy life.” He shot Cunningham a pointed look, but Cunningham was intently adjusting his cufflinks.

Elle cleared her throat. “So the rest of the office has been waiting for a while, right?”

Jonathan laughed. “It’s an open bar. I doubt they realize we aren’t there.”

Nolan rubbed a finger on the corner of Elle’s mouth. “But do us a favor? Try to act like you think you messed up. And pretend you didn’t already hear Cunningham’s lecture about self-confidence.”

“I envy you,” Jonathan said as they passed into the hall. “I have to pay attention and act like I haven’t heard it a million times.”

Elle hung back. “I just need to grab my purse,” she said.

“Why?” Cunningham asked, perplexed. “There isn’t anything you could possibly need that we can’t provide.”

His promise set her to trembling all over again. “It’s a girl thing. Only be a second.”

Her purse was still in Cunningham’s office. She went inside and slumped on a chair. She knew Cunningham was right, that it wasn’t good to be too wrapped up in the work. But it was her only way of proving that she had any business being with Cunningham, Jonathan and Nolan. They were smarter, funnier, more confident, better educated, more attractive, more interesting…