Page 46 of Degrees of Control

“You already give me what I like, then you give methat.”

“Was it bad?”

“No, it felt fucking amazing, it’s just terrifying.”

She should say something. She should tell him there was nothing to be afraid of, but she was much too tired and this bed was much too comfortable. Was it memory foam? What even was memory foam?

When Charlie woke the suite was dim and the afternoon long over. James’s body was curled up on the other side of the bed, he was snoring gently and muttering words into the pillow.

Cute.Blearily, she looked at the gold clock on the wall.Holy fuck.She had half an hour to get her ass down to the studio and run the seven o’clock class. Her little nap meant a cab she couldn’t afford and unprofessionally borrowing a spare pair of leggings from someone at the studio. She shook James’ shoulder.

“I have to go.”

He grunted in affirmation and worked his body deeper into the bed. Charlie didn’t like leaving him while he was asleep, but she couldn’t call her boss and say she was banging a rich guy at a fancy hotel. At least no one James worked with cared that he took a nooner.Must be nice.

She felt creepy watching him doze, but she couldn’t stop herself. With his eyes closed, she was safe to examine the tiny pores on his nose, the slight creases around his eyes, the freckles dotting his shoulders. He looked younger than she’d ever seen him, as though sleep lifted a protective layer he wore constantly when awake. A week ago, Hayley asked her what James was like outside of bed. The first word that came to her mind had been “tense.” Everything about him, from his sticky voice to his loose-hipped stride suggested he was laid back, but he wasn’t. She knew it, the same way she knew a stormy sky meant rain. She just wished she knew why and knowing she wasn’t supposed to wish that only made things work.

You’re late,she reminded herself.You can’t just stand around all day contemplating James.

She threw on her cheesecloth dress and dashed out of the room, ignoring the aching feeling in her gut.

Chapter 12

James drummed his fingers on the desk and stared out the window. It was a perfect summer morning, clear sky, light breeze, bright sunshine. It was a day that should be spent outside; riding or driving or drinking beer, not cooped up in an office pretending to look at graphs. His eyes flicked to the clock on his computer monitor. Nine forty-six in the morning.

Shit.

As Director of Operations, his job boiled down to three things; signing contracts, batting a bunch of meaningless concepts back and forth, and representing his father’s name. He spent more time talking about football and women with other execs than anything else. He’d never wanted to be a corporate whore, but it was better pay than anything he could have gotten on his own, considering he’d spent all of college fucking around. Yeah, he was grateful for the job, even if the work was mind-numbing. Today for example, he’d come in at seven o’clock for a breakfast meeting and the only thing he could remember about it were the muffins. It was a small wonder Charlotte was constantly dominating his thoughts.

Shewas outdoors this morning, running a summer yoga program down at the Lake of Isles. She was probably wearing tight little exercise shorts, her long hair spilling down her shoulders as she got leered at by beefy personal trainers…

James scowled and leaned back in his seat, imagining she was here with him instead, under the desk, her heels visible to anyone who walked in. He’d have her thick hair wound around his hand, yanked nice and hard while he watched his cock disappear between those plush lips.Get it nice and wet and I might just let you sit on it, sweetheart.

He groaned and brought all four legs of his chair to the ground with a bang.It was way too early for him to get all horny about fucking Charlotte, but he couldn’t help himself. It felt like a fluke, finding a girl who got turned on by anything if you did it in a mean way. He never got bored with sex but it was like fine dining; the more refined your palate was, the harder you were to impress. Charlotte had spent her life eating bread and water, every dirty thing he did made her eyes roll back in her head and apparently the sheer joy she got from fucking was contagious. James’ mind wandered to her gorgeous tits and how they’d look imprisoned in a spandex crop top. Was she wearing one in the park right now? If he was there he could watch her class and fend off any unfortunate assholes who tried to make a pass. He and Charlotte could get lunch afterward or something, then go back to his place and screw the whole day away. God, he wanted to be outside. He checked the time. Nine forty-eight.

Fuck.

He’d opened his door on Tuesday night to find Charlotte in a trench coat. She removed it to reveal an outfit that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a pole dancer; black stockings, a tiny, ruffled skirt and a sheer, black corset. The sight of her sweet face contrasted by such slutty underwear completely blindsided him. Before he knew what was happening, Charlotte was on her knees, unbuckling his belt and giving him the slowest, hottest blowjob he could ever remember getting. She’d sucked him lightly, running her tongue down his shaft and over his sac so slow he could feel the come surging up his shaft. In the final throes, she’d wet a fingertip and sunk it in his ass. He’d come so hard sparks had popped behind his eyes.

He’d repaid her in kind, spanking her ass red before hauling her onto his kitchen counter and eating her pussy until she screamed. They got dinner afterward, takeout pizza because of her stripper clothes. Meat lovers for him, vegetarian for her, like a bad joke. They spent a couple of hours in his kitchen talking, mostly about the dogs they’d had as kids. Usually women couldn’t pry his jaws apart for anything other than their pussies, but Charlotte had a way of making sentimental bullshit fall out of his mouth. For example, when she told him she’d stolen her stripper outfit from her roommate, an actual stripper, he’dkissed her foreheadand told her she was perfect.

James reared back on his chair’s hind legs again and sighed. He had to dump Charlotte in the next couple of weeks. All he did was give the girl the wrong idea and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to stop. If Sophia found out about it, she’d definitely disembowel him.

His laptop pinged, alerting him to an email.

Hey, James, my class is over and I’m wandering aimlessly around the shopping district. What kind of underwear do you like? Keep in mind I have low-rent stripper covered, Charlie.

James grinned. Speak of the fairy and she appeared. He sent a picture of a hentai girl in a maid costume. The reply was instantaneous.

Ha-ha, don’t you have an internet safe-search at that job of yours?

Not when you’re the boss, sweetheart,James typed backbeforeforwarding her a picture of a dark-haired woman in sapphire-blue panties and garters. He’d club a few baby seals to see Charlotte in that, preferably bent over his couch with his tongue between her legs. His laptop pinged.

Wow. If I was a billionaire I’d buy that for sure. But what do you like in the price range of, say, a yoga teacher who lives in a shanty town?

James frowned. He hated being reminded of where she lived. When he’d pulled up at her curb on Tuesday night he’d wanted to lock the car doors and take her home with him. Tuck her into his spare bedroom with a hot water bottle. It was straight up crackhead territory, a girl like Charlotte was practically walking around with a bullseye on her back.

That’s none of your business, asshole.

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