Flashes of Me (10 page)

Fran laughs, the sound unnatural. “I deserve full credit. I
did
discover the dish.” She talks about the early days and conversation buzzes around me, the topic light and manageable. I slowly relax, eating, asking questions whenever the words decrease to a trickle.

Henley and Mr. Blaine discuss increasing security measures. I transfer some of my vegetables onto Henley’s empty plate. Fran, Anna, and I chat about baby clothes, a topic combining two of my interests—fashion and babies.

I place my right hand on Henley’s left thigh and his muscles contract under the black fabric of his pants. He wants me and I want to please him, to express my gratitude, my deepening feeling for him. I stroke him up and down, up and down, savoring his tightly leashed power, his physique exuding strength and vitality.

I swirl my fingertips into his thigh, learning every inch of him, memorizing his body. In the future, if his big form changes, if a lump develops, I’ll know immediately, and we can take the necessary next steps, the quickness of our response possibly boosting his chances of survival.

I slide my hand upward and Henley straightens his spine, his increasingly rigid posture stretching the suit jacket across his wide shoulders, straining the seams. His sentences shorten and his voice deepens.

I inch my way closer to my target. Henley’s thigh quivers and he eats faster, shoveling the food into his mouth. Veins stand out on his forehead, beads of sweat forming on his skin. He grunts his replies to Mr. Blaine’s questions.

I move my hand, touch hardness, and Henley jumps out of his seat, pushes his chair back. The chair slams against the wall and plaster falls to the carpet. “We’re leaving,” he growls, grabs my hand, and rushes toward the door, dragging me with him.

“Use the first office to the right,” Anna calls as we exit. Fran laughs. Mr. Blaine shakes his head.

Henley lurches in that direction, bursts through the office door, and propels me forward. “Hike up your skirt.” He kicks the door shut. “I need you.” His eyes are black and his pants are tented around his erection.

My fingers tremble as I raise my skirt, revealing my pale thighs and flimsy white G-string panties. Henley clasps my waist and lifts me onto the small meeting table, the surface cool against my bare skin.

“It’s been a while,” I whisper, nervous. He’s a big guy.

“It’s been a while for both of us.” Henley snaps the ribbons at my hips. The scrap of silk falls to the carpet. He pushes my thighs apart and gazes down at me, inhaling and exhaling deeply, his nostrils flaring.

I want and need more. “I’m yours, Henley.” I bend my knees, opening completely to him, allowing him access to everything, yearning for his rough touch. “Use me in any way you desire. I trust you with my body.” I trust him with my heart and with my soul.

“You shouldn’t trust me.” He pulls a chair closer and sits down, positioning his head between my legs. “I’ve done some bad things in my life.” He grazes his scarred knuckles along the inside of my thighs and I tremble.

“You won’t do those bad things to me,” I whisper, a band of emotion tightening around my chest.

“I’ll never deliberately hurt you.” Henley strokes my neatly trimmed strip of blond hair back and forth, petting me, slowly, gently feeding the fires inside me. “But I’m monstrously large and you’re so small and delicate.”

“I can take your monstrously large cock.” I flatten my fingers on the table, my palms moistening. “Didn’t I take you this morning?” I lick my lips, remembering his taste, his warmth, his roar of satisfaction.

Henley must be remembering this morning also because his eyes glow. “You took me in your mouth, not in your pretty pink pussy.” He skims his fingertips over my feminine folds and I wiggle, moaning softly. “You’re wet for me, kitten.” He holds up his hand. My juices glisten on his skin and my face heats, this proof of my need undeniable.

“I
am
wet.” I tilt my chin upward. “What are you going to do about it?”

“This.” He extends his tongue and licks his fingers thoroughly, his expression blissful, as though I’m the most decadent dessert he’s ever tasted. I wiggle on the hard flat table, my arousal building.

“And this.” He lowers his talented tongue to my exposed pussy and licks me from ass to clit. I call out his name and lift my hips. “Hush.” Henley chuckles and throws one muscular arm over me, pinning me to the table.

“Our coworkers will hear.” I squirm, unable to escape him as he nibbles my tender flesh, his love bites curling my toes. “They’ll know their big bad head of cybersecurity is devouring his kitten.” He strokes me with his tongue, drawing more moisture from my core. “Eating her out.”

Henley flings my legs over his suit-clad shoulders, opening me wider to him, and he applies himself to my pussy with all of the intensity in his severe soul. He deliberately, painstakingly peels me apart layer by layer, tasting, touching every inch of me.

“Yes, feast on me, Henley.” I run my heels up and down his back, his muscles rippling under my slingbacks. “Your tongue feels so rough and warm and wonderful.” I grab my breasts, squeezing my curves through the blazer’s soft fabric. “I could—”

He pushes his tongue inside me and I inhale sharply, losing my words, losing my thoughts. “Henley,” I whisper. His flesh slides along my inner walls.

“Oh Henley,” I cry louder. He thrusts into me, fucking me with his tongue, and I strain against him, trying to push upward, to chase the sensation, unable to stay still, to do nothing. Henley loosens his hold on my hips, allowing me to move, to meet him halfway.

I repeat his name over and over as I shamelessly ride his face, smacking my pussy against his lips, splattering my wetness over his tanned cheeks. I no longer care about the men and women working on the other side of the door. All I can think about is Henley, his hands on my thighs, his lips against my pussy, his tongue inside me. He’s my everything, my stolen moment of happiness in a world filled with sadness.

I pump my hips, slap my heels against his shoulder blades, dig my nails into the hard surface of the table, seeking to make this exquisite moment last, to lose myself completely in his touch. Henley growls, his lips vibrate against my sensitive skin, and a soul-deep tremor rolls over me, rocking my control.

“Please,” I pant, not knowing what I’m asking for.

Henley looks up, his rugged face positioned between my pale thighs, his lips a breath away from my clit, and our gazes meet, the passionate intent in his dark eyes stripping bare my restraint. “Put your hands over your mouth, kitten,” he commands, his voice deep.

I obey him, slapping my hands over my mouth, watching my big behemoth with wide eyes. I don’t know what he has planned.

Henley’s smile is positively wicked. He cups my ass, his scarred palms firm around my curves, and he lowers his head.

As he fastens his lips over my clit, I jerk upward, my body hyper sensitive. Henley stills, his mouth engulfing the bundle of nerves, and I relax. I can do this. I can control myself, prove to him I’m strong.

Henley’s eyes glint, I tense, and he sucks hard.

I scream against my palms, my skin muffling the sound, and I lift off the table, levitating. Henley catches me, holding me still as the office swirls, the stream of gray, white, and black dizzying. My heart pounds. My body shakes. I cling to his neck and wrap my legs around his waist. He’s my constant, my anchor.

“I have you,” Henley murmurs into my hair. He runs his hands over my back, comforting, calming me. The spinning slows and stops.

I tilt back my head and gaze at him. His lips and cheeks glisten with my juices. I smile, pleased. “I tasted you all morning. You’ll taste me all afternoon.”

“You taste delicious.” He licks his lips. Laughter lines crease the skin near his eyes. He’s happy and that makes me even happier.

“Your turn.” I reach lower and cup his groin.

“My turn will have to wait,” Henley groans, placing my hand on his shoulder. “There’s a meeting I have to attend.” He smooths down my skirt and pockets my torn panties. His current tally is one wireless lavender bra, one pair of stained white lace gloves, and the panties.

“There’s shredding I have to do.” I clasp his hand, following him into the hallway. Heads pop out of cubicles and duck back down. Henley’s lips twitch and my smile spreads. “Double points for whacking blondes, triple points for redheads. You’ll win me that plush unicorn in no time.”

He chuckles. A thin-lipped woman wearing glasses raises her head and stares. I move closer to Henley as we walk, holding onto him. He’s my behemoth and I’ll protect him.

We enter the empty elevator car and the doors close. “We’re alone in an elevator.” I waggle my eyebrows up and down suggestively. “Should we test whether the cameras work?”

Henley captures both of my wrists. “The cameras work.” He meets my gaze, a promise for later in his dark eyes.

Chapter Eight

H
ENLEY AND
I reluctantly part. He attends his meeting in the Fortress and I return to the shredding room. I feed files one at a time into the machine, turning the pages facedown so as not to see the words or view the photos. The sheets of paper are chewed into thin manageable strips. I work and work and work. In my makeshift office I’m alone, isolated from the world.

I glance up at the camera and smile. I’m not completely isolated. Is Henley watching me? I pull the hem of my skirt higher, teasing him. He knows I’m not wearing any panties. My pussy is bare, open to him.

I exit the shredding room and retrieve another box. Camille sits at her desk, chatting into the phone, her voice low and sexy. She laughs and twists a green lock of hair around her pale fingers, not a care on her pale beautiful face.

She looks happy and innocent. I don’t interrupt her call or ask her about the security breaches. I march back to my noisy office and feed more files into the hungry shredder.

The early morning escapades in Henley’s office combined with my jet lag and sleep-interrupting nightmares make me really tired. I press a fist to my mouth, stifling a yawn. My eyelids grow heavy. I lean against the shredding machine, my hands slowing.

“Are you daydreaming again, Yellow?” Camille chirps and I jerk awake.

“I need my beauty sleep.” I open my eyes, sucking back another yawn. “I can no longer rely on the power of my perky butt.”

She laughs, hugging a white binder close to her bountiful chest. “The dragon lady wants to see your perky butt in her office.”

I brush my hands over my suit, smoothing the fabric. “And where is she sending you?” I follow Camille into the hallway. My friend has an unnerving bounce to her step.

“Miss Yen doesn’t know about this.” Camille looks to her right and then to her left and leans closer to me. “I’m testing something secret.”

I frown. “Is this something secret helpful or harmful?”

“Helpful, definitely helpful.” Camille twists her lips, appearing insulted. A man passing us scowls at her. “I’d never do anything to hurt anyone,” she insists. “I’m white hat all the way. Peace and love, baby.” She makes a V with her fingers.

“Then I don’t want to know anything more.” I shake my head. “Go. Test your something secret. I’ll see what our boss wants.” I trudge to Miss Yen’s office and knock on her door.

“Come in,” she barks and I enter. My boss is standing behind her desk, her phone pressed to her ear. “I know this
now
, but I should have been informed immediately.
You
should have informed me. You’re the head of security. That’s your job.”

Henley and Miss Yen are talking about me. I sit in the chair closest to the door, perching at the edge of the seat, preparing to flee if necessary.

“You of all people should know I’d understand about her needing a fresh start.” Raw emotion edges Miss Yen’s voice. She turns her back to me. “Of course. I’ll send her up when I’m done.” She lowers the phone.

Moments pass. I squirm in my seat, uncomfortable with the silence. “Miss Yen?”

“Are you in a rush, Yellow?” Miss Yen turns, frowns at me, and I relax. She’s the ballbusting dragon lady once again. “Of course you’re in a rush.” She plunks her tiny ass into the leather chair. “Yesterday you were my intern. Today you’re Mr. Henley’s security liaison. Is that your game?” She tilts her head, studying me. “Flash a bit of cleavage and get promoted?”

I look down at my generous chest and grin. “I wouldn’t call it a bit of cleavage.” I meet her gaze. “Mr. Henley thinks I can do this job, Miss Yen. He needs me.”

“Then you can do the job. Mr. Henley would never add anyone incompetent to his team.” Miss Yen presses her fingertips together. “But do you want to do this job, Yellow? You’ll be interacting with the employees at Blaine Technologies
and
the employees at Volkov Industries.”

This is a concern. I take a deep breath, count to five, and exhale. “Henley trusts me. I have to trust him.” I force a smile. “My father says the scariest risks are often the most rewarding.”

“Your father
says
. . .” Miss Yen drops her gaze, her voice choked. She stares down at the screen of her phone, her eyelashes fluttering against her golden skin. There’s more unnerving silence and I wiggle, waiting for her to continue. “You’re to meet Mr. Henley on the fourth floor.” She doesn’t look up. “Take your things.”

“Thank you, Miss Yen.” I hop out of my seat. “I won’t let you or Henley down.”

She waves her left hand, her head bowed, her gaze remaining fixed on the small screen. I’m leaving her short staffed, the mountain of files remaining unshredded. Miss Yen can’t be pleased with the situation. I sigh and leave, shutting the door behind me.

Camille hasn’t returned from her secret testing. I clasp my clutch purse and head toward the elevators. I pass an intense man in an expensive black suit and smile at him. He smiles back, his teeth stained pale yellow. The scent of cigarette smoke trails after him.

The elevator is empty and stops at no other floors, taking me directly to the Fortress. I don’t have time to worry, to have second thoughts, to question whether or not I can do this. I have to trust Henley. I
do
trust him.