Fool Like You (3 page)

4

Going
back to the office, I curse him in every way possible, then I curse my body
that betrayed me this morning.

Gathering
the files from my desk, I can
’
t stop but listen to other
female workers and how they admire Sebastian
’
s
beauty; how they all shared their secret fantasies about him making love to
them. It isn
’
t unusual to hear these things on a perfectly
normal working day. But today I can
’
t stand
them gossiping about how many girls, models, actresses he has slept with. Have
I become on of his girl toys today? It
’
s not
like he forced me to do anything. He was extremely assertive, yes, but I let
him
–
wanted
him
–
to
make me come high near the clouds.

I walk
to the conference room and stop before the door, check myself in a small mirror
in the hall, smoothen my hair and pull down my skirt while holding onto the
bundle of dossiers. This is supposed to be a meeting but I don
’
t hear
anyone inside, so I knock.

“
Come
in,
”
I hear
him say, trying to breathe steadily and calm myself down, because otherwise I
would just kick him where it really hurts and lose my job today
–
but I
would also feel good about it.

Opening
the door, I see that there is no meeting. Did he postpone it? Am I too late?
All I can see is him sitting at the head of the wooden conference table with
floor to ceiling windows overlooking New York behind him. He sits there with
his loosened tie, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He is also biting on a
pencil softly, tonguing it left and right while staring at me. He is looking
right through my blouse, through my soul, and I wonder how far inside me he can
see.

This
has to stop. What
’
s wrong with him today
–
what
’
s wrong
with me?

His
green eyes make me lick my lips momentarily. I lower my head to avoid his
stare, holding the bundle of files to my chest like little schoolgirls.
“
I
apologize Mr
—“

“
Take
off your cloths, Alice.
”
He interrupts sharply, but he
sounds as if asking me casually to turn on the TV. Nothing special about it.

What?
Did I hear that right?
‘
You damn well know you
heard that right
’
, I hear him say in my mind.

My eyes
widen with shock as I look at him like a cat trying to see in the dark. I don
’
t pull
my head up from the weight of moment burning in the back of my neck. Besides,
he makes me feel I want to submit to him.

I am
having a  little internal dialogue between the girl I used to be and who I am
now. I raise my chin up proudly and pursing my lips.
Not gonna happen, you
spoiled bastard!
But when I do that, he fumbles with papers on his desk and
starts writing things as he if hasn
’
t
dropped a bomb out of his mouth on me seconds ago.
Did he lose interest in
me?

I find
myself pulling down the hem of my skirt and feeling embarrassed and confused.
Then I fist one hand to my side, fire surging through my soul as I am really
considering punishing him in the face. But he has a beautiful face. I wouldn
’
t want
to do anything bad to it. This would have been much easier if he weren
’
t
beautiful.

I hate
myself for loving his gorgeous looks. Sexy as hell. But he is just another
selfish prick who women throw themselves at. Like most beautiful men, you just
have to wait until they open their mouths and here you go, you lose interest
instantly.

As
conceited and arrogant as he is, loved and chased by all women in this damn
office, I am the only one who never did such a thing
–
well,
before today
’
s morning encounter. I loathed him. I talked bad
about him. I laughed at him behind his back that rumor had it that my coworkers
told him all about how I hated him.

I only
respect him as a boss, and always do my job excellently. I do it for me, not
for him.

Still,
here I am, insecure when he loses interest in me. Even though I know it might
be an act, but something devilishly in me wants him as much as I hate him.

Then I
drop the file on the floor deliberately, making sure he hears the sound. I
think I see him smirk again, but he doesn
’
t look
at me. I start to unbutton my blouse with my chin up high. It feels like I am
preparing for a wrestling match inside me, not taking my eyes off him.

I see
him press a button on the table and I hear the door lock automatically behind
me. I understand that there is no meeting now.

What
the fuck are you doing, Alice?

“
Stop.
”
He
said, finally looking at me.
What the
…
?
I am
going to kill this man.
“
Slower,
”
he
demands and stands up, walking toward me. My eyes are fixed on the sure way he
moves his waist, firm yet swift and energetic.

But
wait. I can wake up from this trance. I can just pull back and be who I am and
not so out of character.

I am
too late. He pulls my hands as I feel hypnotized. He turns me around and stands
behind me and pushes me slightly forward toward the conference table. His hands
crawls down into my lower back, all the way to my ass. The heat from his hand
sends shivers through my body. I don
’
t have
to be naked to feel his intensity. He has a way to reach me inside. The muscles
in my body tense and I bite my lips, trying to roll my eyes behind me, curious
of what he is doing back there.

In my
mind, I am pushing him away and screaming at him to never dare touch me again.
But all the signals my mind sends to my body are rejected. My poor nipples
harden for the third time today, and they trigger the memory of the orgasm I
had a couple of hours ago by the same hands on my ass right now. Traitor
nipples. Traitor body.

Within
the silence of the conference room, and the way he slowly takes advantage of
me, I think I hear my heartbeats loud in my ears. Is that heartbeat too that
dances with mine?

“
Turn
around,
”
he
says with that same calm and assured tone, as if the possibility of rejecting
him doesn
’
t even exist. I will turn around as a matter of
fact, like the sun rises every morning.

I turn
around with closed eyes and a silent gasp. He moves his hand on my hip and I
feel his eyes looking at me. I am so hesitant to open mine. I know if I do, I
will lose my last hope of resisting him.

He says
nothing, but I pictures his gorgeous face with my mind
’
s eye.
Case lost. I can
’
t escape his beauty, even with
my eyes closed.

I
surrender and open my eyes, titling my head a little higher to look into his.
His chest is rising and falling, I could tell from the sound, unable to free
myself from the invisible light connecting our eyes.

He
takes advantage of my distraction and pushed his thumb inside me, and begins to
move it slowly back and forth.

I am wondering
if his intense eyes are waiting for me to stop him or resist him. I could have
done that this morning in the elevator already, or when he demanded me to take
off my cloths. He knows how much I hate him, yet enjoys how I can
’
t
resist his touch. How did this ever happen to me? How am I longing for his
touch like that while I loathe the bastard?

The
moister is beginning to seep into my panties. I let out a sigh as I grab his
muscle shoulder with one hand, not only for balance, but because I want to feel
his lean muscles.

He
slides his hands lower, his rough fingers carefully touching my sighs as if
inspecting them. It amazes me how his rigid fingers feel soft on my soul,
running all the way down my thigh and then clinging to the hem of my skirt. He
grips it as if wanting to tear it apart yet wanting to delay the pleasure for a
while. Finally, he loses control and moves it inside, touching the top of my
stockings and curling his hand around my thigh.

My body
is trembling as he takes all the time in the world to touch me and explore my
body. I am in a conflicting battle between despise and lust. I hate myself at
the moment as much as I hate him, but I can
’
t
persuade my body to leave.

Suddenly,
I find myself slapping him on his right cheek. What a slap! It clutches, and he
is astonished for a moment, but then the smug on his face returns.
“
Is that
all you got?
”
he nods proudly as if I am a child who slapped
him because it does not know what
’
s is
doing, and he is finding it cute. He continues what he was doing to my thighs.

Secretly,
I am glad that he does. The slow ache increasing in my legs is beautiful, and I
feel the wetness inside me as his fingers keep stimulating. Noticing how much I
like it, he slips his fingers under my panties, feeling my hairless lips. He
probes his finger slowly around my clit and I am aching for him to plunge it
inside.

He is
such a tease. The way he is looking at me, I can tell he is enjoying my
anticipation. My eyes pupil
’
s widen, staring at his until
he finally slides his finger inside me. I bite my lower lip and suppress a
smile. I still don
’
t want him to know for sure
that I like it. He can know, but never for sure.

Lust
shines in his eyes now. I see beads of sweat on his forehead. He wants me so
bad. I glance down and see has hardened against the inner fabric of his pants.
When he notices me glaring at his cock, he slides his finger deeper as if
battling the same battle like me inside his head. Somehow, his body is
betraying him too.

His
conflict becomes my victory as I manage to show a smug on my face, silently
laughing at his weakness toward me, but not for long. He presses harder, yet
gently inside me. He knows what his thumb is doing and does it well. Through my
pants, unable to paint a teasing smile on my face, I show it through my eyes
locked with his. He gets the message and it drives him crazy. He had never
showed weakness to anyone. He gets what he wants, when he wants it, sometime
without even asking for it. I remind myself of all the women he dated an
definitely fucked.

The
surge of light between our eyes cause him to close.

“
Fuck,
”
he
groans, pulling his thumb out and fisting the lace of my panties in his hands.
He holds onto it so tightly as if my panties will fly away. Then he opens his
eyes again at the same moment he rips my panties away.

I feel
the thin fabric leaving my skin, leaving me undone. He is slightly shuddering
now with lust in his eyes like two forever full moon looking down on me.

Roughly,
he pulls me even closer from my hips, lifting me up onto the cold table. I give
in, not taking my eyes away from him. There is a challenging grin in my face
that I want him to see. He has to know that I am not like the others.

Again,
whenever I challenge him he challenges me back, up a notch. He spreads my legs
in front of me with such a concentration I had never seen before on him. It
’
s like
he is buried in the moment and can
’
t miss
any flash of it.

Heat
spreads through my core before he even touches me. His slowness is killing me.
I want to zip up his pants and pull out his manhood in my hands but I pull his
fingers back to my clit instead. His touch lets me through my head back,
staring at ceiling. Thank God there is no mirror up there or I would have hated
myself more for not standing up to this man who has my body enslaved on its own
will under his command.

I never
knew that we weren
’
t close friends; me and my
body, that is. My body craves his fingers, his lips, and his member.

I let
out a painful sigh and bring my head back as his touch is roughing on me, not
in a bad painful way, but in animalistic beautiful way.

I feel
that I am close to orgasm, electricity running through my veins. My two elbows
resting on the table shiver slightly, and my thighs feel like jelly as his
moves intensify while looking into my eyes. But wait. As much as this coming
orgasm feels so good, I want more. More!
You can
’
t just
make me orgasm like today in the elevator and leave me undone, starting to boss
me around again you beautiful prick!