My fingers fly over the keyboard, composing a letter to one of our clients thanking him for his generous tip he transferred along with the last paycheck. He was fascinated how fast and efficient we worked he said at one meeting and couldn't describe how happy he was that his possessions were now save and guarded by the best security firm in town. We updated his company with the latest technique our scientists came up with, securing the crap out of the place and making it as safe as any bank could only hope for. I reread the last paragraph when my phone rings, disturbing my concentration. I frown slightly and grab the receiver.
“Dauntless Head of Company, Eric Coulter's office, Tris Prior speaking.” I answer the call, voice professional and calm, shoulders squared even though the caller can't see me. But I made the discovery right at the beginning of my employment that a strong voice comes with feeling strong and self-assured and a confident posture helps with it greatly.
“Its me, Stiff. Why are you so stiff all the time? Relax, babe.” A voice answers and I roll my eyes.
“Hello Peter.” I say, leaning back in my chair and smiling at his words.
“Hey, Tris. What are you up to?” He asks and I hear a honk over the line.
“Do you call while driving again?” I ask, voice laced with anger, teeth clenching tightly and continue speaking without him having a chance to response.
“I swear, if you do, I will....” He interrupts me before I can threaten him with my usual speech of death and gore whenever he calls the office driving one of the company's cars. I even think he sometimes takes pleasure in riling me up with something like this, maybe enjoying my slightly higher voice or red cheeks if he sees me while I am angry.
“Calm down! I am just getting something to eat from the café across the street and an idiot cyclist cut off a car. Sheesh, woman, you really have a temper.” He says and I roll my eyes, smiling a bit.
“Sorry for being worried for you, asshole.” I answer him, playfully lacing my voice with a pout and he chuckles carefree.
“Love you too, babe.” He answers and continues before I can speak up.
“Listen, the reason why I call is, the guys and I wondered if you would join us for a beer when you are finished with your work for today.” Peter tries to hide the hope in his voice and I give him credits for the effort but it doesn't work and I can clearly hear that he is annoyed and slightly hurt at my continuous denying of invitations to join them. My face pulls into an apologizing expression he of course can't see but it seems he doesn't need to because I hear him sigh.
“I get it. You don't have time.” He sounds rejected and I bite my lip, guilt filling me.
“I am sorry. But listen, how about we meet on Sunday, just the two of us, for a visit to the cinema. There is a new horror movie and it looks promising. I can't think of anyone better accustomed to my high pitched yelps or clawing hands then you.” I say, hoping that the innuendo and my honest tone will placate him enough. I wait with bated breath for his reply.
“Sounds fine.” He answers, a bit gruff still, maybe a bit angry but all in all conciliatory. I smile brightly.
“So I will pick you up at what? 7 pm?” He asks and I tell him to wait for a moment to look up the times in my local theater.
“Yes, we can grab something to eat at this disgusting fast-food-diner you love so much and go to the movies afterwards.” I reply and when he speaks again his voice is playful and arrogant. His usual self.
“Its a date, Stiff, so don't think about coming up with reasons to not go.” I cringe slightly thinking before replying.
“It was one time, Peter. I have to work now. Please be safe and make sure to give Alice my love.” I say, already opening a new e-mail to send the office shop our monthly orders.
“Will do and tell her that her temper is sugar compared to yours. I am sure it will make her feel better with the pregnancy. Bye, Tris. Love you.” He answers and before I can reply the line is disconnected. I shake my head at his hot and cold behavior, soft smile on my lips.
I met Peter while examining a medical company named Erudite Research that contacted us to see what we can do to protect their future projects for the government. After looking through the standards the government sets up for researching and engineering companies working for them and listening to the head of the board of directors own wishes we met up for the expert's survey of the place in late May one and a half years ago.
Peter was wearing a white lab coat that looked off on him over his expensive suite and was introduced as the company's main consulting barrister. He gave us an off-white business card: CC – Candor Consulting in bold dark red letters embedded into the rich and thick paper under it Peter Hayes with his address and other contact details in black.
I was introduced as Eric's personal secretary and his eyes were dark in annoyance at realizing he had to deal with me in drawing the contracts. Peter made the whole process of gauging the security of the company even harder with denying to speak to me, going so far as ignoring my questions while answering the same question when a male asked him. He even came up with dirty innuendos and mean remarks when just the two of us met and I still remember being shaken when I came back from one of the meetings.
Eric asked me what happened in his own distant way but I didn't tell him or anyone about it. I told myself that working as a secretary in a nearly a hundred percent male-business inevitably leads to situations like this and I just had to harden up. So when I met Peter the next time I put into clear words what I think about him; the words arrogant pig, bigoted asshole and unmanly may or may not have left my otherwise well-spoken mouth. In response he was silent for a while before chuckling and inviting me to dinner to speak about the finer aspects of the contracts.
After that we became somewhat friends, meeting randomly even after our work for the medical company was done and he asked me a lot of questions about Dauntless. After five months he had a meeting with Eric and after that became our head of the law department.
When I asked him once why he suddenly changed his behavior around me and treated me with respect, he shrugged it off, telling me that he was positively surprised at my words and the fire behind them and loved honesty to a fault.
I smile slightly at the memory. He is now one of the persons I can't live without and when he asked me to search for a ring with him for his girlfriend Alice that is now six months pregnant with their first child I knew that he feels the same about me. Shaking of the memories I go back to my work.
I check the mail again for spelling mistakes and make sure that I included the digital version of our invitation to a festivity we planned for our clients at the beginning of the new year before sending it off. My smartphone chimes up and when I read the message I have to suppress a heartfelt laugh: “Stiff, I am watching you. No turning back now. See you on Sunday evening and if not we are so over... or as over as we can be, with me calling you after two days to ask for another meeting, accepting your poor excuses too easily and falling for your stiff charm. You promised, Tris and I will tell Alice if you stand me up, again!”.
I start to type a reply, feeling guilty and like laughing at the same time but am interrupted by the sound of approaching steps on the hardwood floor. I look up from my device to take in the person in front of me, wearing a suite that is a bit too big and run down sneakers with it. I school my features into a neutral expression before I meet the eyes of the visitor.
“Hello, Misses“, he reads the sign on my desk and looks up again, “Prior. I have an appointment with Mr. Coulter at 4 pm and the receptionist told me to just go here. The name is Lewis.”
I nod, drawing up Eric's calendar to verify his information. I am slightly put out that he takes me for a married woman. I am 26 and know I don't look like I am older then 20, but I try to not take it offensively. Its really hard to act neutral though when you already have spoken to the person and he should recognize your name from the reply you sent him for his application or the phone call you made for inviting him to an interview. But he seems to be nervous and on edge enough without me frowning at his slip up or his outfit for that matter.
Lewis has every right to be nervous, too because as far as I can tell his degree is more of a miracle then a show of hard work and the position he applied for is looked after like warm clothes in Chicago winters. I guess my boss wanted to invite him anyway because along with the general forms for applications – certificate from high school and college, motivation letter and vita – he also handed in a recommendation from one of our partners. A small company that lends us some of their men to horrendous prices whenever we are short for anyone on events. I find an entry I made three weeks ago with the name he told me and look up again.
“It's Miss Prior and please take a seat, Mr. Coulter is going to see you in a few minutes.” I smile at him shortly and he responses with a small blush and slightly shaky smile himself before he sits down, his fingers clasped in his lap. He takes the seat furthest away from my desk and Eric's door. Not a good position I think. It speaks of insecurity and fear. Not something Dauntless looks for in his body guards. I ignore his staring gaze on me and press the intercom, waiting for a response.
“What is it?” Eric says in a gruff voice, probably reading the mail one of our clients sent a few minutes ago, informing us about a guard he had some problems with. I cringe inwardly, slightly taken aback that the random mail could evaporate his relaxed state just three hours ago so quickly, but when I answer him my voice is calm and neutral. Professional.
“Your 4 o'clock appointment, Lewis is here to see you, Sir.” There is silence for a moment before Eric answers.
“Let him come in.” He says and I think I recognize annoyance in his tone.
“Yes, Sir.” I answer and stop pushing the button.
“Lewis, you may go in now.” I say shortly to the man that honestly hasn't any chance to convince Eric of himself. Not with the way he wrings his hands and chews his cheek. But I am a nice person mostly and feel generous after my encounter with my boss not three hours ago.
“Good luck.” I whisper in his direction because he will need a lot of that if I gauge my boss' mood right. His smile broadens in response, his steps more sure of himself now and he closes the door to my boss' office silently behind him. I let my hand go through my hair for a moment, the long dark-blond tresses falling over my shoulders before I arrange them back onto my left shoulder, pinning them down. I check my to-do-list then, feeling nervous for my impending more or less date with Eric that hopefully will lead to some more of the things we did and some talking about what to make out of this situation. I feel my stomach drop at the memory, biting my lip and shake my head to stay in the now.
Before I am able to start cleaning my desk, I have to write a few notes for myself and Eric who will be gone the entire day tomorrow to secure a deal with a company from Seattle. I go over his plan for the day, add a few points and hints to his agenda, especially times when he HAS to eat because he sometimes forgets that he is human after all. I sent it off to his organizer and turn off my computer.
Grabbing my cup and empty water bottle I make my way into the small kitchenette. Nervousness bubbles in my stomach as I start to unload the dishwasher. It really isn't my job to do it, but I don't like how the cleaning personal puts away the stuff randomly without a clear concept and do it preferably myself before they mess up my order. I tried to talk to them nicely at first, my smile sincere and grateful for their work, but with every time I had to remind them again, my face turned into a frown and then into a light scowl before I decided that it isn't worth my time and they aren't paid enough probably to listen to a secretary's speeches about a quirk they aren't interested in.
I lean forward to grab the plates in the far corner of the basket when a hum and big, strong hands on my hips wandering agonizingly slow to the juncture of my legs interrupt me in my movements, my eyes widening then becoming half-lidded at the sensation of his hands on me.
“I think I will just kick the idiot out and take you standing like this”, he clarifies with brushing his pelvis against my ass,”or against the counters.” His deep voice says behind me and I stand up straight, heartbeat quickening. He pulls me back against him for a moment, letting me feel his arousal before he turns me around in one swift movement and presses me against the counter of the small kitchenette. My breath hitches as his hard body aligns with mine. I feel lightheaded when he lifts me up and sets me down on the wooden surface, riding up my skirt and spreading my legs to step in between them, thumps just a few centimeters away from my most private area. He leans down, fingers gripping my soft flesh, bites my earlobe and I have to suppress the moan that wants to leave my mouth violently. One of his hands goes to my waiste then and glides slowly upwards to my breast, squeezing it and I exhale shakily when his other hand brushes my core with his knuckles.
“Eric-” He interrupts me with biting my neck painfully but it is mixed with hunger for more and I feel weak and slightly vulnerable.
“Are you ready to go after I am done with the interview?” He asks, his other hand tugging at my loose hair. I can only nod, heat pooling in my lower region, making me squirm in response to his low, deep and raspy voice. He presses his hips against my core for a moment and I squint my eyes at the feeling of him against me.
“Good.” He answers and is gone the next second, taking a bottle of water with him to probably serve his guest and himself a bit of it. I glide down from the counter, knees weak and breath labored, my hand massaging the spot where he bit me. I can't suppress the smile on my face and continue cleaning up for the day, humming softly to myself, feeling nervous and excited for the things laying ahead of me.
I put my things together when his office door opens and he comes out followed by Lewis a second later. Eric extents his hand in goodbye and speaks up, voice professional.
“We will let you know in five days if you made it or not.” Lewis nods, smile shaky on his young face.
“Thank you, Sir. It was a pleasure to meet you.” He turns around, his eyes landing on me, Eric about to go back to his office probably to get his coat and briefcase as well. I turn back to my bag, pulling the zip close and arrange the keyboard next to the papers I have to go through tomorrow. A throat is cleared beside me and I look up surprised.
“Miss Prior, I...”, he clears his throat again, steps from one foot to the other, “I was wondering if you are free on Saturday and would like to meet for a drink somewhere?” I am taken aback by his question and my eyes meet Eric's over Lewis' shoulder.
“She is busy.” He answers for me, making Lewis jump in surprise and lets him turn around half-way to look at my boss. His arms are crossed, coat hang up over one, dominant scowl on his face present. My cheeks color lightly, and I nervously brush down the hem of my blouse even though it is already straight. I look back to Lewis, biting my lip for a moment and nod in affirmation at Eric's words.
“Oh, I see...” Lewis blushes to the roots of his hair, nods in Eric's direction and smiles forced into mine. I reply with a small nod myself, feeling uncomfortable.
“Thank you again.” He more mumbles then says and scurries out of the lobby in a heartbeat. I take a deep breath and frown slightly. That was awkward my brain thinks and my heart whispers unrecognizable things, mushed at my boss' display of possessiveness. I am brought out of my thoughts when I feel his presence behind me and look to him over my shoulder. I am positively surprised that he is holding my coat for me to slip in. Smiling at him softly, cheeks lightly coloring again I take my bag and wait for him to lead the way. I know him to be a gentleman seeing him handling women with great respect whenever his function as head of Dauntless forces him to attend meetings but it makes me feel warm and content because maybe it has another meaning now as well.
He puts a hand at my back, just above where my bottom begins and leads me down to the garage, fingers sometimes brushing lower over it, squeezing it. I feel hot and cold at the same time, nervousness making me chew my lip softly and heart beat faster then normal. I enjoy that he can't take his hands off of me for one second, though.
When we reach his black Mercedes, he pushes my back slightly against the passengers door and leans down, his lips meeting mine in a sensual kiss I haven't expected. I open my mouth willingly when he wants to deepen it and let my tongue dance with his, my hands clasped at his suite jacket. He pushes them away a bit and starts unzipping my coat, fingers dancing across my hips until he reaches my ass and pulls me to him. I sigh into our kiss, nervousness deflating to make room for the sensation he evokes in me with nothing more then kissing and touching me.
He pulls away far too soon, eyes darker again. My cheeks are hot and my eyes slightly glazed. Maybe that's the reason why he grins satisfied but I can't think in clear paths and don't want to at the moment anyway. He holds the door open for me and while I sit down, the black and cool leather feeling luxurious against my stocking-clad legs, he closes the door softly and goes around the car.
Seconds later he sits down in the drivers seat and starts the engine, the soft purr of the car a gentle sound in the otherwise silence of the late night garage. When we are outside on the streets of a busy Chicago evening, his hand finds my knee without a second thought, drawing circles at the skin and even though it isn't anywhere near my core I feel it throb in anticipation, my stomach churning with lust. I bite my lip, feeling a bit self-conscious about my high awareness and easily turned on body.
“I love how responsive you are.” He says as if he read my mind and my heartbeat quickens again. I am not sure if he wants to encourage me or felt the light tensing of my muscles at my thoughts, but I can't think straight because his hand slowly advances to my core only to track back to my knee.
“You are probably dropping wet and just imagining licking you makes me hard.” He continues, my breath going faster now as well, his words spoken casually and honest, their contents explicit and making me squint my eyes for a moment, exhaling shakily when my body and heart remember how he just did that not six hours ago. How his mouth sucked at my clit, his tongue latched at my soft flesh, penetrating me slightly before he used his fingers to go deeper and I moan at the memory. Something inside of my tightens in sweet pain and makes me shudder against his palm on my thigh.
My eyes meet his and a smirk turns his lips upwards at my unrhythmic breathing, lust-filled eyes and hot cheeks. His fingertips glide up my stockings without stopping now, pushing the skirt easily up as well when I push myself a bit out of the seat. He strokes the insides of my thigh, slightly pinching the soft flesh, eliciting a stifled gasp. I think I shouldn't have put on my coat because I feel so hot I worry I will pass out soon. My legs open in response to his hiking hand and when he is just a few millimeters away from brushing against my most private area I shakily exhale in anticipation, my abdomen tightening, my muscles tensing.
He doesn't tease me, doesn't hold back and maybe wants to touch me just as much as I can't wait for his hand to get in contact with my wet sex again. I don't have to wait too long, he starts stroking my hot, pulsing lips through my lacy tong, pointer and middle finger squeezing my folds with practiced ease, pushing down between them and the rough fabric combined with the pads of his fingertips let me feel just the right friction, making me groan in pleasure and leaning my head back against the headrest. I know he feels that I am again dripping wet and I am content to give his ego this boost even though he probably doesn't need it, being the self-assured and slightly arrogant man he is. Out of the corner of my eyes I see him smirk animalisticly.
“I knew it.” He says, voice raspy now, laced with lust and the knowledge that he has power over my pleasure, my whole body really so easily. I think it appeals to his dominant and possessive nature that just a small touch that isn't even as deep as our activities in his office makes me squirm under his hands. I shiver at the continued movement against my sex, his fingers working me just the right way – a way Tobias never worked out in all of our years together.
My hands are clasped at either side of my seat, trying to ground me to reality because I think I will lose my mind if he continues to speak like that while he touches me. I lift my leg a bit to give him better access, spreading them, sliding down in my seat a bit. He continues to stroke me above the fabric, his fingers pressing down when he is above my entrance. Eric doesn't need long to push my tong to one side, his fingers finding my bundle of nerve with ease, making me lean my head back and moan softly.
“Touch yourself.” He says, turning his rear-back mirror slightly to watch me. I do as he says without a second thought, not ashamed of anything, lust letting my blood pulse through my body. I unbutton my blouse slowly, my eyes fixed on his face through the mirror. His eyes meet them randomly when he doesn't concentrate on the road and I can see him lick his lips in desire, the gray dark and stormy.
I push away the fabric of my coat and blouse, letting him see my breasts and pinch my nipple with my fingertips in time with his squeezing of my clit. I lick my lips, breathing through my mouth and hear Eric groan next to me. I lean back, his movement and mine relaxing me and winding me tight at the same time. He inserts two of his fingers inside of me, my walls tighter then before because we already had sex today and he groans again – maybe because he pictures himself inside of me. He angles his arm a bit to penetrate me further, his thump stroking my clit.
Because I was hot and bothered after his show of dominance and possessiveness back in the office, I don't need long to cum, my throat emitting a strangled cry, my walls squeezing down on his fingers still inside of me. He has to stop at a red light and before I know it he leans towards me, hot lips, teeth and tongue meeting mine and I lose myself in the aftermath of my orgasm and the feelings he transports with his kiss, the strength and burning will to dominate my body and maybe my heart as well. Not that he has to worry about either.
A honk behind us brings us back from the heated kiss and he smirks before starting to drive again, his fingers that were inside of me now in his mouth, licking my juices. I watch him do it, the way he seems to savor my taste on his skin and lick my lips. After a few minutes my breath is relaxed, my lips tingle and his hand strokes my inner thigh leisurely again.
I close my blouse slightly and watch him, take in his strong jaw and handsome features and can't believe for a moment that a man like him could find something appealing in a woman like me. I am not ugly, beautiful really in my own way, but I am not curvy or memorable like Marlene from the hospital squad or Lauren from the concert team. And I know he could have both of them if he tried. I push away my thoughts and speak up, voice a bit lazy but I feel energy pulsing through my veins.
“How long until we are at your house?” I ask him and he looks at me for a second.
“Twenty minutes. Why are you asking?” He says, one eyebrow raised in question. Its my turn to smirk. I push his hand away, pull off my coat and start to turn in the seat. I find the right buttons at the center console and press them a bit to adjust his position behind the steering wheel. When his eyes meet mine they are clouded with heat and lust and I think he realizes what I plan to do.
He leans back a bit, adjusting to his new sitting position to still drive us securely to his house. When he is finished, I start to unzip his trousers, pulling them open to reveal his hard length pressing against his black shorts. I stroke it with soft fingertips and hear a rumbling sound above me for the action. I need a bit longer to free him from his tight boxer shorts, but when no fabric obscures his cock anymore I go down on him without a second thought, licking his length from bottom to top. I feel him shudder and his length reacting immediately to the contact, using my hand to adjust it so I can take him into my mouth.
His head his wet from precum and I latch at it with my tongue, enjoying the salty taste before closing my mouth around his head, hand slowly going up and down on the part of him I don't reach with my mouth. Yet. His hand lays at the backside of my neck, massaging the muscles in time with my movements before his fingers clench down a bit painfully probably because a wave of the tickling feeling goes through him.
“Tris...” He groans above me and I pick up my pace a bit, taking him in deeper into my mouth, tongue circling his head when I come up again. His hand moves down my back, to my ass and grabs it hard before wandering down even lower to my hot core, fingertips brushing against it. I mewl softly and he jerks a bit at the vibration against his cock.
“Gods...” He groans and I like his obvious pleasure. I slowly start to relax my throat, to prepare myself to take him in deeper even and when I am ready I don't give him a moment to brace himself, just push him further into my mouth. His fingers bore down into my upper thigh and he cannot seem to stop himself.
“Shit! Tris..” He exclaims, jerking slightly at my continued movements on his cock that starts to twitch slightly. I come back up a bit, his hand stroking my core, my hand grasping his balls carefully, and with a last latch at his length he cums into my mouth. I close my mouth around him, suck up the warm, salty liquid and swallow it without thinking about it. His body is rigid underneath my hands, my left hand stroking his thigh and I marvel at the muscles I feel underneath his smart dress pants.
His hand at my behind pulls my skirt a bit and I lean back, my eyes connecting with his for a moment before he concentrates on the road again, starting to slow down the car. They are dark, a deep satisfaction glinting in their depths combined with a bit of awe. I slide down in my seat, sated and a deep contentment spreading within me. We stay silent until he turns off the engine finally, changes his position, his hand going to my jaw.
“I never took you for the experienced type.” He comments, softly brushing his thumb over my lip.
“I remember telling you in my interview that I am an avid reader.” I comment, biting my lip smiling and meet him halfway in a sensual kiss when he pulls me towards him, satisfied smirk on his lips.