The Fighter's Secretary (2 page)

After playing with her pussy for a few minutes she took the chain connecting the nipple clamps and placed it in her mouth, giving a sharp jerk with her head that pulled at her nipples. His groan matched hers and he stroked himself, rubbing lightly along his shaft and trying to keep from coming too quick. Normally he had better control, but fucking hell she was the hottest piece of ass he’d ever seen. She reached out and grabbed his T-shirt off the couch and he wondered what she was doing with it before she brought it to her face and took a visible inhalation.

She trembled and the speed of her fingers between her legs increased. After giving the nipple clamps a good jerk she let the chain drop from her mouth and tossed her head back against the couch then whispered, “Dallas…Master…please…”

Fierce pride and determination filled him and he nearly laughed in surprise. His little prim, proper,
submissive
, secretary, who shot him down every chance she got, wanted him. Bad.

Amanda continued to whisper his name and spread her legs wider, the silk of her panties partially obscuring her sex as she lifted her hips as if she was being fucked while lifting his shirt to her face again. His climax threatened to spill at any moment, streaks of erotic fire burning from the base of his spine to his cock as he slowed his movements, wanting to come when Amanda did. She was getting close, panting now and dropping his shirt so she could pull at the nipple clamps, her needy moans and sexy whispers destroying him. The fact that she wasn’t putting on a show, that she was touching herself like this in private, made him practically rabid to have her.

Her face tensed and she sucked in a deep breath then let out a throaty cry that went straight to his balls and he barely had time to cup his hand over the head of his cock to make sure he didn’t get his come all over his pants. Amanda shuddered and cried out again, saying his name and calling him Master over and over, intensifying his own orgasm until he was groaning along with her recorded cries. Oh yeah, he fucking owned that pussy, she just didn’t know it yet. He’d make all of her naughty dreams come true, be the kind of Master she needed, give her everything her little submissive heart desired and love every moment of it.

Grabbing some tissues, he cleaned himself without looking away from the screen. Amanda had slumped back against his couch, her breasts trembling as she panted and he wished he could somehow reach through the monitor and gather her limp body against his, inhale the scent of her release mixed with her spicy perfume, take her long black hair down from the tight bun she kept it in and run his hands through it while he kissed her swollen, pouty lips. She let her legs drop from the table and sighed, then began to unscrew first her left nipple, then her right, wincing as the clamps were removed and revealing her swollen nubs. He longed to lick those no doubt sensitive tips, rouse her again so he could fuck her, maybe make her come just from sucking on her breasts, depending on how sensitive she was.

Despite the fact that he just had an orgasm his dick was still hard. Already the need to climax again was beginning to build. On his screen Amanda set aside the nipple clamps on his T-shirt and began to button up her blouse. Suddenly she jumped up and quickly shoved her jacket on and buttoned it. She then rolled up his T-shirt with the nipple clamps in it and shoved it behind the couch where it fell with half the bundle sticking out from the edge. As soon as she stood she stepped into her shoes then smiled at someone.

A woman’s voice came from the door. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here. You working late again, Amanda?”

Amanda smiled and walked over to his desk, picking up the folders and a stack of paper. “Yeah. His royal highness forgot to tell me about a big presentation until the end of the day, as usual.”

A middle-aged woman with a cleaning cart came into the room, shaking her head as she smiled at Amanda. “Girl, you need to put your foot down. I’m tired of seeing you here working late.”

“You and me both.” Amanda cleared her throat and stepped around the cleaning woman. “I’m just finishing up so I’ll probably be gone by the time you’re done. If I don’t see you, have a good night, Cora.”

“You too, honey.”

Amanda left and the cleaning woman went about straightening up his office. When she was vacuuming she found the rolled up shirt and placed it in his closet next to the extra suit and his workout gear. After dusting his work area for a few more minutes she left.

Pausing the video, Dallas quickly went to his office closet next to his bathroom and looked behind it, finding the rolled up shirt shoved behind some stuff. Sure enough, the nipple clamps were inside and he fingered the metal, wishing it still held the warmth of Amanda’s body. As he stared at the glittering links a plan began to form in his mind. He knew Amanda was single, knew she wanted him, but also knew that for whatever reason she absolutely did not want him to know she was attracted to him. Licking his lips, he set the T-shirt back into the closet with the nipple clamps still inside before returning to his desk.

She’d called him Master.

Shit, he was going to walk around with a permanent hard-on.

Once he sat down, he took a deep breath, then picked up his phone and dialed Amanda.

She picked up on the third ring and her husky, sexy voice spilled into his ear. “Hello, Mr. Ortega, how can I help you?”

“I need you to meet me down in the gym in fifteen minutes.”

She didn’t bother to hide her disgruntled sigh. “Now?”

“Come on, Amanda, you know I get my best inspiration while working out.”

He was pretty sure she was calling her some unflattering things under her breath, but she took in an audible inhalation then let it out, no doubt trying for patience. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“I’ll see you then.”

Amanda Dunham stood outside of the door leading to the private gym that belonged to her boss and tried to collect her scattered nerves. She was a professional, she was a grown woman, and she was not scared to be alone in the same room as her boss. Most of all, she would remember that Dallas was a complete and total womanizer who would never settle down with one woman. She should know, she was the one who had to send the flowers and gifts to his conquests, and then she was the one who had to field their angry phone calls when he invariably broke up with them to go chase after some new woman. Though she had to admit, things seemed to have slowed down lately for Dallas in the love department. It had been at least a couple months since the last irate girlfriend, dressed in what Amanda liked to think of as expensive slut, had tried to barge into his office.

Gripping her laptop against her chest, she took a quick glance down at her outfit to make sure she at least looked professional. Today she wore a navy blue pencil skirt that went down to her knees along with a pair of sensible black patent leather pumps. A fitted navy blue cardigan sweater coupled with a white lace mock turtleneck blouse completed the outfit. Her hair had been pulled back into its usual severe bun and she was about as buttoned down and conservative as she could get.

She opened the door to the gym and inwardly groaned at the sight of Dallas punching a speed bag—it looked like one of their prototype designs—while wearing a pair of silky black workout shorts with splashes of red and orange along the legs, another one of their new designs. While Dallas was a completely disorganized mess as far as business was concerned, he was also brilliant when it came to designing innovative new clothing and training gear for fighters. And he was so sexy it made her nipples ache and her panties instantly dampen.

Damn him.

He wasn’t aware that she’d come in yet, intent on working the speed bag with his thick muscles flexing along his shoulders, chest, arms, and oh-so-tight abdominals. His short black hair was already wet with sweat and the gleam of his naturally dark tan skin in the sunlight coming through the windows was awe inspiring. A tribal tattoo flowed from his shoulder, over his chest, and down one side of his torso before disappearing into his shorts. She knew the tattoo extended down over his hip and left buttock and her fingers twitched with the need to jerk those shorts down and trace the pattern with her tongue. Earlier this year Dallas had done a photo shoot for one of their new products, a super absorbent towel, with said towel only hiding his groin as he gave the camera an unabashedly arrogant smile. While he sucked at the day-to-day tasks of running a business, the man had enough charisma and good looks to sell a ketchup popsicle to a lady wearing white gloves.

Before he could spot her drooling over him, she schooled her features into a professional mask and made her way over to the small desk Dallas had installed in the gym for her. He really did get some of his best ideas while working out and she usually spent at least a portion of every day that Dallas was in the office down here with him. He’d retired from the UFC over a year ago, but he still trained like he was an active fighter. By the time she’d set up her laptop the sound of him punching the bag had stopped and when she looked up she found him watching her with an odd expression on his chiseled features.

“Good morning, Mr. Ortega,” she said in her best cool, professional tone.

“Good morning, Amanda,” he replied in his husky voice with just a trace of his Spanish accent seeping through.

The way he said her name, like he was relishing the words on his tongue, never failed to send her pulse racing, but she ignored it as best she could. There was no way she would let him know how much he affected her. Not anymore. When she’d first started working for him she’d briefly entertained the fantasy that he wanted her, but now she knew he just liked to flirt with anything female. Even if she made the terribly stupid move of sleeping with her boss, she’d be just another notch in his belt and she had too much self-respect to for that. Especially considering she really liked him. Being discarded after he tired of her would hurt too much.

She took a seat and looked up at him expectantly. “What would you like to work on today?”

His gaze darkened and the sexual heat he gave off would have melted a normal woman’s clothes right off her body, but she’d been around him long enough to give her a tiny bit of immunity to his natural animal magnetism. “Can you pull up the test shots for the new women’s line? I need to send the outfit choices to Donna so she can start fitting the models.”

“Of course.”

As she began to open the folders containing the different designs she couldn’t help but wonder how many of their models he’d charm into bed with him. On Saturday night they were unveiling their new women’s wear line and Dallas had rented out one of the hottest clubs in Miami for the reveal party. Amanda would be there as his PA and she did not look forward to a night spent trailing behind him as he both did business and selected which woman from his hordes of groupies he’d fuck that night. Her heart ached and she clenched her jaw, reminding herself yet again that she had absolutely no reason to be jealous, and that if she couldn’t get over it she’d be screwing herself out of a really well-paying job that she actually enjoyed.

Pretending she didn’t see Dallas approaching her out of the corner of her eye, she pulled up the designs he’d asked for. When she looked up he was toweling himself down, his hands moving in what was almost a slow caress over his thick arms, then across the perfectly sectioned squares of his abdomen. He approached her with a slow, stalking gait that had her fair trembling with need. Then she caught a whiff of him and had to look back at the screen, to tear her eyes from his perfect body before she tore off what little clothes he wore.

One of her recurring fantasies was to lick the V of his lower abdominals all the way to his big dick. When she’d first started working for him she’d done an Internet search on Dallas and had stumbled across some nude pictures the paparazzi had taken of him a few years back. He’d been swimming in a pool at what had been at the time his home, naked as the day he was born. There was an especially memorable photo of him climbing out of the pool and even at rest, his dick had been big enough to forever earn a starring role in her sexual fantasies.

Dallas shifted next to her and she swallowed hard. He smelled so damn good. It wasn’t any cologne he wore, but the scent he gave off when he worked out. The potent blend of pheromones always sent her body into heat for him, and it had only gotten worse after she’d masturbated in his office. God, as if he wasn’t a temptation already, to find those nipple clamps in his drawer had sent her over the edge. Of course he could have just had them there to play with, something pretty for one of his endless parade of gorgeous women to wear, but she somehow knew it was more than that. Dallas was about as dominant as they came and the hidden, submissive side of her nature cried out in longing to kneel at his feet.

An image of doing just that, clad only in those beautiful nipple clamps, flashed through her mind and she imagined nuzzling her face against the crease where his balls met his leg and drowning in his scent while he gripped her hair hard enough to hurt.

“Amanda?”

Startled, she glanced up and found he now stood right next to her, his abdominals within licking distance. “What?”

His full lips, marred here and there with small scars from his time spent as a professional fighter, curved into a grin. “You seem distracted.”

Trying to ignore the flush no doubt making her pale cheeks red, she returned her attention to the screen. “Here are the designs you asked for.”

To her horror, and delight, he placed one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the desk, leaning forward so that he was effectively caging her with his body. His scent overwhelmed her and she moved her hands off the keyboard then hid them beneath the desk, hoping he didn’t notice how they trembled. He was close enough that his heat bathed her and she squeezed her thighs together, trying to relieve the never-ending ache he started in her body.

For what seemed like hours he stared at the screen, then looked down at her. “What do you think?”