Pearced (8 page)

G, halt, immobility, salute. Thank goodness, the dressage is back, I'm going to need it.

He takes my hand as if to shake it, as two of my colleagues walk by to the sandwich shop, staring at this beautiful man at my side.  Probably wondering what the hell I am doing with him, perhaps he's lost and asking for directions.  I may have some self-esteem issues?

Note to self, call Dr Shrink for an appointment.

He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses me gently on my knuckles, quite old-school but I like it. Wonder if he likes the Walton’s?  "
Congratulations
Tharie,” his eyes lift to mine, blimey those eyes, what did he say? Is anyone taking notes for me, brain? “Dinner tonight? My treat?" He stares at me, his gaze not leaving until an answer is given, used to the power he exerts over people, I am determined not to be one of them.  Then I look back at him and of course I cave, well I’m still only a girl, and I do have to eat, Mum says so remember?

"Oh, OK." I answer, what am I saying OK to, not just dinner, brain?!!!  He's making me feel warm and horny, my sex trembles and my temperature elevates, my nerves start to shake, and before I can utter another word, he drops my hand and heads back to his car.

Connection broken. Exit at C.

Calling back over his shoulder, “I’ll pick you up from your cottage at 8pm tonight.” He smiles, a warm gracious sexy smile, “does that give you enough time with the horses?” Did he really ask that? Respect, I like it. He pauses, rushes back to me, stands close to my body, we are touching, I catch my breath, and whispers in my ear, so close that I feel his warm breath down my neck.  A chain reaction begins, and cascades through my whole body, “I’m hard for you Tharie.” He moves into me much closer, “right now,” and against my neck in a hot breathy whisper, “feel what you do to me.”  I can feel his cock, rock hard, as he moves into me closer still, lightly kissing my neck, before moving away in an instant. Bet he's glad for that Crombie today, my head says all to itself. True story. Plus, it
is
quite cold.

Almost without breath I feebly answer, not sure what to say, "
But I haven't given you my address!" Now slightly worried, and my body aches for him to touch it, but he's striding away in that purposeful manner, graceful and powerful.

"I know where you live Tharie, don't worry, I’m a resourceful type."  I bet you are. Snapping out of my funky mood as he speaks my name, I recall I have something I need to tell him. I leap up suddenly and try to catch him, just remembering, I have plans tonight with Pete, I’d totally forgotten.  Too late to catch him now.  She had said she needed to talk to me, I’ll make the call. Resourceful indeed I said to myself as his car slides off noiselessly down the road, a stalker type, but I liked it.

TC: “Help, I need help” I’m not exaggerating either.

PF: “Haven’t I been telling you that for years, what for now?” She’ll love
this
challenge.

TC: “Daniel, I can’t concentrate” I wonder if there’s a pill I can take, shake the thought away, nothing a cup of tea won't cure, or at the very least calm.

PF: “I’m sending over some Agent Provocateur by bike messenger, I’m guessing it's an emergency” she's good, very good.

TC: “You went lingerie shopping for me?” She’s very,
very
good. Next bottle is on me.

PF: “I always keep new underwear in my drawer at work, just in case” It's for that girl in advertising she likes? She’s good.

TC: “Is that Pete's ‘tip of the week’? She should write for Cosmo.

PF: “Most women do it Tharie” really? Bloody hell, all I have in mine is lip balm, a horse magazine and a box of extra strong plasters. Wonder why I’m single.

TC: “So why am I only now hearing about it?” I already know the answer, this is going to hurt isn't it?

PF: “Honey, you didn’t ever
need
this advice before” bloody hell.

TC: “Cheeky swine” true story, but she’s right.

PF: “You need all the help you can get honey, good luck” what does she mean? I won’t see him now until tomorrow.

TC: “Am I your new challenging project?” Do I really want to know?

PF: “One I’ve been planning for years!” What!!?

TC: “I need help don’t I?” True story.

PF: “Like no one else I know, just another way you’re so special babes” aaahhh, nice, I think?

I fetch myself a cup of tea, instantly feeling better.

Back at my desk I decide to send a text, and with my phone in my hand my fingers fly over the keypad:

TC: “Thank you for offering me a job Daniel” true story, plus he is so hot.

DP: “Welcome, you'll not
disappoint
I’m sure” that sounds leading, I decide I like it. Plus, he's very hot.

TC: “I aim to please Daniel Pearce” I mean it too.  Did I mention how
hot
he is?

DP: “What are you doing
right now
?” Bet you'll ask me what colour my underwear is next, suddenly I remember, god no! 

TC: “What are you asking?” Work for it.

DP: “Would you prefer I was just taking?” God yes.

TC: “Is this your idea of a sext?” Because I like it.

I have to sign for a package, it's from Pete, bloody hell.

DP: “Where are you?” Where do you think? I slurp my tea.

TC: “At my desk” need to make more tea.

DP: “I’m going to fuck you every chance I get” I confess to liking the sound of that.

I decide to try on my new lingerie, it fits perfectly, and isn't like any underwear I've ever worn, honestly, it's not a comfortable as Spiderman pants, but I won't fall at this first hurdle.  Its fine black lace, sculpted to fit under my breasts not over them, just covering my nipples, and matching high knickers like shorts, with little black velvet bows on both.  Probably to remind me to wear them together eh?  I feel different in them, and fold them delicately back in the little waxed pink box.

TC: “Romantic. Is this what it's going to be like? You always getting what you want?” I like the sound of that too, what's suddenly gotten into me?

DP: “Always” that’s so hot, I’m actually squirming in my seat.

TC: “Well. I'm at work” true story unfortunately.

DP: “I’ll have you over your desk” there’s too much on it for that, always practical, comes from being a Brownie.

TC: “Think my colleagues might have something to say about that!” They’d love it, who am I kidding?

Need tea urgently.

DP: “They can watch” it’d be on You Tube,
seriously
.

TC: “That sounds interesting” it really does.

DP: “You have no idea” but I can guess.

DP: “Yet” nice.

TC: “You'll have to wait” can I? How far in a cab to his office?

DP: “You won’t have to” I hear in stereo, bingo.

“Tharie.” And I turn suddenly at the sound of his close by voice, Daniel is standing in the design room phone still in his hand.  Everyone is looking at this handsome man, wearing a dark charcoal suit, looking gorgeous, and staring only at me. “Come.” He demands, well who am I to say no to my new boss? Without any preamble I get straight up and put my coat on, grab my bag, fail to notice all the faces agape around me, and hurry after him.  He grabs me around the wrist and leads me to the lift without another word.  Was I supposed to be in a meeting right now....? Don't care...

“You must have been in the building?” I ask as the door slide shut behind us.

“Close by.” He looks at me smoulderingly, and I melt inside and almost lose my footing and fall to the floor.  Luckily the lift has a sturdy chrome bar wrapped along the inside, and I cling to it all the way down. Like I intend to do to
him
the first chance I get!

We arrive in Daniel's car to a modern building 'Pearce Hotel', slipping into an underground car-park, and we drive up a gentle curving slope into a parking space, there's only four spaces, all with initials painted on them, we park in the DJP space.  Stan opens my door for me and I try to get out with a little glamour, but fail.  Daniel takes my hand and we head to a lift with only one button, 'PENTHOUSE'. Bloody hell.

We say nothing as the silver box transports us up to the top floor.  It stops with a hiss, I scuff my boots on the plush carpet, nervously, Daniel takes my hand and smiles at me.  The doors of the lift open directly into the lobby of the penthouse suite, it smells of Daniel here.  I take a lung full.

Dark wooden floor, a shiny polished round table in the centre, a huge vase of white roses sits on top, and a faint whiff of magnolia in the air.  Daniel leads me through the first room into the open space living room and kitchen.  We are on the roof, the whole side of the room is glass and beyond a decked terrace with olive trees, in huge grey pots swaying gently in the breeze, several huge glass lanterns sit around an intimate sitting area with table and chairs.  Candles, huge and vanilla sit everywhere over the planked dark surface, and unlit fairy lights in the trees and small Turkish ornate lanterns sway on branches ready to be lit.

“Wine?” Daniel asks, walking to the kitchen and taking a bottle from the rack.

The living space is down a few steps into a massive wide room, cream leather sofas sit in a semi-circle around an ornate low table, and at one end a white velvet Chesterfield studded chaise lounge, its ornately carved black frame is beautiful, as is everything here. At the other end a huge black Grand piano, with a simple silver candlestick sitting on top overlooking some sheet music.

“
Please
.” I'm still amazed by the place.  To the opposite side of where Daniel is pouring dark red into glasses with bowls so wide they could house a goldfish (thankfully not), is a bedroom with the double doors wide open so I can clearly see in.  Bloody hell.  I want this don't I?  The bed itself is huge, the sheets black, the floor dark wood again.

I wander over to the window and look out over Regents Park, nice view.  Daniel is silently behind me passing me a glass of wine. “Great view.”  We both sip from our glasses, saying nothing. Then I feel his hot breath on my cheek, he
hums to himself as he breaths me in, and kisses me feather-light on my neck just below my ear.  A cascade begins, unstoppable from my ears to my toes.  It feels like a warm liquid has been poured over me inside, delicate and divine, I tremble.

Daniel takes my glass from me and puts them both on the table, on coasters of course.

“Baby, are you sure you want this?” he whispers sincerely.  I'm a little confused, I'm here aren't I?  But he's just being respectful, and that makes it hotter somehow. He touches my hair, runs his fingers down my cheek slowly, always looking directly into my eyes, his pupils dilating to dark.  He cups my chin and tilts my face upward to him.  Holding me there, paused as if to give me the chance to react negatively to his question.  “I'm going to fuck you Baby.”

“I
want
you to Daniel.” Because he needs my permission.

Daniel closes his eyes momentarily, and kisses my softly on the lips. Our mouths fit to each other perfectly, our tongues wrapping around each other’s, we both relax and our kissing deepens.  He has the front lapels of my coat in his fists and is sliding the khaki twill from my shoulders, and it falls with a soft 'whoomph' to the ground where it's ignored.  He has my cheeks in his hands tenderly, smiling, he plants gentle soft warm kisses all over my eyelids, down my cheeks to me ear.  He bites my lobe gently and sucks me into his mouth.  Oh God, this feels
so
good.  My sex is scorching hot and trembling, the heavy feeling planting me to the spot so Daniel can work on me. 
Bloody hell
. He takes off his suit jacket and throws it to the sofa (well, it's
Prada
.) I wriggle his tie to loosen it, get frustrated and pull it over his head.  He grabs the hem of my padded shoulder sweat top and it's joined the parka on the floor.  “Daniel?”

“Yes baby?” Baby?  I decide I like that.  He's kicking off his pointy boots and undoing my jeans.

“Is this how you get girls to obey, bring them here to clinch the deal?” I close my eyes, his mouth is kissing my breasts.

“Will it work?” He gently clamps his teeth around my nipples in turn, and another, intense almost painful pull begins inside me, from nipple to
there
.

“I've already said yes, you didn't need to do this, for me.” My eyes are shut, my head tilted back, opening my frame for him to enjoy, a welcome, a permission.

“This has nothing to do with work baby, it's
you
I want.” His hands are in my jeans, cupping my buttocks, squeezing and lifting me toward him.  Our bodies bump together, and his cock is straining at the Italian wool.  I undo his belt and slide it through all the belt loops and add it to the pile beginning to build on the floor.  His shirt is next, one tiny button after the next, I pull the tails of the hem free from his waistband and let it fall.

Daniel kisses my nose, my lips, my chin, my breasts and bends to kiss my tummy, it's soft and seductive, my body alight and all my senses in play.  He takes my jeans off on his way down and plants kisses all the way.  His tongue flicks in and out of my navel as he grasps my buttocks hard, bringing me closer to his face.  My knickers and denim come off in a flourish and he lips fine the spot, my small mound and cleft throbbing expectantly, wet and ready.  He licks me agonisingly slowly, taking his time, flicking its clever end over my clit and I begin to build.  He sucks my flesh into his mouth and an incredible feeling continues unstoppable inside me, beautiful, sweet, warm. He blows hot air over my sex and I almost fall to earth with the feeling.  He reaches up and rips off my bra, my hands are in his hair, he is adding pressure with his tongue and my whole body bucks to him with pleasure, he
hums pleasurably to himself. Happily failing to notice a small piece of hay floating slowly to join the pile of clothes on the floor.