Page 39 of Tell Me What You Want

What is going on?

I want to control myself, but I can’t. I’ve never been a toy for any man, but he manages to play me every time. I want him as much as I need air to breathe, and that scares me. My sex is on fire, my skin is burning, and I feel my panties moistening. All I want is for him to undress me and take me.

I look him right in the eyes. I love his serious tough-guy face. It drives me crazy. He’s so sexy and devastating that I’m incapable of saying no to anything he asks. It’s the first time in my life I’ve felt this way, and I don’t think there’s anything I can do to stop it. He unbuttons my pants. His hand swiftly finds its way into my panties.

“You’re wet for me,” he whispers.

He pushes his hand down farther, and I feel one of his fingers come inside me and then, seconds later, another. He grabs me by the hair, tugs on it, and makes me look up. He kisses me again, impatiently, while his knee pries my legs open and his fingers begin to pump in and out of me. With his mouth on mine, I swallow my moans; my orgasm is so close.

“Come for me, Jude.”

Once more, my body responds to his words.

The gleam in his eyes makes me crazy, makes me want him to undress me, to throw me on the floor and slam his penis inside me. I bite my lip. If I don’t, I’ll scream and the whole office will come running to see what’s going on.

“Jude, let yourself come.”

My back tenses and my legs arch as I gladly let him overwhelm me. My muscles contract over and over under his touch, and I feel my inner thighs get wet. Eventually, he slows down, stops, and when he finally pulls away, I want to protest. He takes my head in his hands again.

“You owe me an orgasm, sweetness,” he murmurs.

I can’t respond.

All I can do is open my mouth and tangle my tongue with his. I love his exciting, dangerous taste as I forget about everything around us again, and about my anger too. I don’t want to think he uses me like a toy. I don’t want to remember he’s my boss. Simply put, I don’t want to think.

Two minutes later, our breathing having returned to normal, he ceases pressing me against the filing cabinet, and I regain control of my body. I curse.

What have I done, again? How can I be such an idiot every time I see him?

“Have you thought any more about my proposal?” he asks.

I try to meet his eyes, but I find that whenever I try to confront the Iceman, I lose my composure.

“I answered you yesterday, and I said no.”

He purses his lips and I sigh.

“Why are you so stubborn?” he says. “What I’m proposing will also bring you some financial benefits.”

“Just financial?”

Eric’s mouth had started to form a smile, but now the smile stops cold.

“That depends on what you want. You decide, Jude. Right now, I need an assistant. Sex will happen if it needs to happen.”

“And if I refuse to let it happen?” I ask, trying to believe my own lie.

He lowers his hands to my pants and buttons them back up.

“I’d accept your refusal,” he says evenly. “Someone else will agree to it.”

What kind of imbecilic, conceited, full-of-himself jerk ...?

Then he exits the archive room, abandoning me. For a second, I close my eyes and scold myself. Why am I so damned easy when I’m with him? I finally straighten my shirt and hair and go after him. He’s already at his computer, his face all scrunched up. I make my way calmly to the door.

“I told you I’d give you until Tuesday for an answer, and that’s how it’ll be,” he says before I can leave his office. “Now you can go back to your desk. If I need you again, I’ll call.”

I’m flabbergasted. I leave his office. I close the door and lean back on it while looking around for a few seconds. Everyone in the vicinity of my desk is working. It seems no one has a clue about what just happened. I grab my bag and go to the bathroom. I need to wash up.

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