Page 17 of The Substitute
He stands, and I realize that he shed his suit jacket and loosened his tie at some point. He unfastens his belt, shucks his pants and shirt, the tie along with them, and then opens the condom wrapper with his teeth. But before he can roll it on, I sit up and reach for him.
“Wait.” I kiss his stomach, and he sucks in a breath. “I know you’re in charge, but just let me…”
I lick his tip as my hand circles his shaft, and Derek’s hands dive into my hair. He’s not pushing me, just holding on, almost like I did a moment ago. I sink onto him, taking him deep into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat, making me gag just a little.
He tries to pull me off, but I like it. I hold strong, sucking and moving, pushing down until I can’t breathe, until he takes my shoulders in his hands and pulls me off him.
With one quick move, he rolls on the condom, nudges me back onto the desk, and slides right inside me until he’s fully seated. Everything in me shatters again.
“Goddamn,” he groans and begins to move. “You’re so bloody amazing. So fucking beautiful.”
He grips my hips almost painfully as he fucks me hard and fiercely. One hand lets go, and he presses it to my throat, but he doesn’t squeeze. He just holds me, watching me, and I freaking love it.
“Yes,” I whisper, holding his gaze. “Yes, Derek.”
“Fuck.” He closes his eyes, his hips jerk, and then he’s coming, and it’s really the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life—this muscular, tanned, strong man falling apart at the seams because of me.
And it sends me right over with him again.
Our chests heave, and my heart is still clamoring.
Derek pulls out of me and disposes of the condom, but he won’t look me in the eyes.
“I’m going to clean up,” I say, standing on shaking legs to gather my undies, dress, and hurry to the bathroom.
Once I’ve locked the door, I stare at myself in the mirror.
My hair is a mess. My neck and chest are flushed, and I have a hickey just above my left breast.
I’m still sopping wet, so I take my time cleaning up in the sink, then get dressed and fix my hair and makeup as best I can without any supplies.
When I walk out of the bathroom, I’m surprised to see that Derek is fully dressed, tie and all, and is jamming stuff into his briefcase with angry jerks.
“Derek?”
“I’ll be working from home for the rest of the day,” he says, his voice hard and short. “You can reach me via email.”
“Derek.”
“Have a good date tonight,” he bites out as he closes the briefcase with a hard snick and starts to walk to the door, still not looking me in the eye.
“What in the hell?” I ask out loud, but he doesn’t stop. He marches right through the outer office and out the door, letting it slam behind him. “You have got to be kidding me.”
* * * *
It was a tense afternoon. For the remaining few hours of my workday, I stayed at my desk and did my job. I forwarded emails and calls to Derek’s home office and took care of everything else to the best of my ability.
And, not once, did I try to talk about anything personal. He wouldn’t have given me the chance anyway. The three times I had to call him on the phone, he was curt and rude and didn’t even say goodbye before hanging up.
He didn’t reply to any of my emails, not even to acknowledge that he’d received them.
When the day was finally done, it was a relief to lock up and go home. If he hadn’t wanted to fuck me, he shouldn’t have. Plain and simple.
“I refuse to feel bad about it,” I grumble as I unlock my condo and step inside. “It was good sex. Like, maybe the best sex in the history of fornication. And it’s not like I forced him.”
Based on his behavior today, I fully expect to get a call from the agency telling me that I’ve been fired, which makes me sad. I like the job, and I like working for Derek. But obviously, we crossed a line that he’s not comfortable with.
I sigh and toss my handbag onto the table by the door, kick out of my shoes, and head straight for the bedroom so I can strip out of the dress and take a long, hot shower.