Unleashing the Receptionist: ...the Receptionist, Book 3 (3 page)

I groaned.

“Relax,” Ethan said, massaging my ass cheeks.

“Easy for you to say,” I choked out. His chuckle vibrated my breastbone. He smoothed my spine, arching it further. My poor nipples, which hadn’t forgotten our earlier session, poked against the hard muscles of his chest. I rubbed my breasts against him, frantic for the friction.

“That’s right, little kitty. Rub all you want. Just let Simon into your ass. You’ll like this, I promise.
We
promise.”

“Have we ever led you wrong?” Simon asked.

No. They hadn’t. I trusted Simon and Ethan with my life. Of course I could trust them with my ass. I let my entire body go lax. Simon shoved the unknown toy even farther in, so the entire thing sat inside me. Then he looped some kind of cord from it to Ethan’s hand. Ethan wrapped it around his wrist. It bit into my skin when he tugged on it. “I’ve got you leashed now.”

I couldn’t answer. All I could think about was the way my ass had been plugged, the way Ethan held the reins. All my awareness seemed to be focused
back there
.

Of course, I had a cock up my pussy, I hadn’t forgotten that. And a skillful man at the end of that cock who knew just how to move to nudge my piercing and stimulate my clit. My body began to pulse from all the intense sensations traveling from one part to the other. From deep inside my ass, to my clit, to my throbbing nipples.

A full-body flush heated my skin. I groaned and moved my hips toward Ethan’s. But that tugged the cord, which embedded the toy deeper inside me. “Oh God,” I moaned. “I can’t take it.”

“Yes, you can,” Ethan said firmly. “Simon, spank her.”

“Okay, boss.” I heard the wink in Simon’s voice, then his hand came down on my ass cheek. A light slap, but enough to make my body clench around the foreign object.

“Now turn it on.”

Turn it on?
I would have jumped if I hadn’t been so firmly fastened right where I was. The next thing I knew, a light hum filled the room and a scalding vibration filled me. Thrills cascaded through me. I shrieked.

“Spank her again.”

Spank. Vibrate.
Shriek
. Ethan thrust up inside me, as if trying to meet that vibrating intruder deep in the core of my body. Another shriek. I sounded shrill, hysterical. I wondered if I was going insane. This thing felt so different from a man’s hot cock. It was relentless, determined, insistent. It wouldn’t give in until I lost all dignity.

“Please,” I moaned. “Make it stop. I’ll do anything.”

“You want Simon up your ass instead?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know!”

“Then let me decide. Simon, turn it up.”

Turn it up?
The vibrations intensified. It felt like an earthquake inside me, everything trembling on the edge of an explosion. I clung tightly to Ethan, my lifeline in this world-shattering event approaching, threatening… He barely moved inside me, just small motions of his cock, up and down. I was already filled to bursting, and he seemed to know just how far to take me.

Another spank, and my body began to buck—completely out of my control. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, I existed in some limbo between heaven and hell, shaking, gasping.

“Come, Dana,” ordered Ethan in a tight growl. “Come now.”

One hard thrust of his hips and the volcano building inside me erupted. I shouted incoherently as I twisted on the two rods impaling me, fore and aft. Then the toy was gone, I felt a moment of emptiness, and Simon’s hot-velvet member took its place. He slid into me, my rear a tight, trembling glove for him. He panted in my ear. “Dana, Dana, so good, you have no idea…”

The tension of his thigh muscles braced around me told me how hard he must be fighting for control. He pushed slowly into me, each thrust a deliberate corkscrewing. Each movement snuggled me closer to Ethan, brought his cock deeper inside me. Spasms still rocketed through me—they’d never really stopped even though I’d orgasmed so intensely. And now their simultaneous fucking rocked me back and forth and I began to whimper and beg all over again.

“Ohmygod ohmygod, ohmygod,” I muttered like a crazy woman.

Then Ethan said the word and we all came at once. Each of them exploded inside me, and I went with them, all three of us shooting into a world of mindless, beautiful madness.

Afterward, they laid me out on the bed and Simon cleaned me tenderly with a warm washcloth. I watched lazily, legs apart for his convenience. Simon had a thing about cleaning; he loved that part. He tended to Ethan as well, wiping his cock with gentle swipes. And then, for the first time, Ethan returned the favor. He took Simon’s drooping cock in his hand and swirled the washcloth around it, turning it this way and that, surveying it with hooded eyes.

Simon, kneeling on the bed, tilted his black-haired head back and lost himself in the unusual caress. I loved seeing my sweet pirate so blissed out. Simon was always worried about other people, never about himself. He deserved this moment of tender loving care. I scooted close and ran my hands up and down his strong thighs.

I vaguely remembered there was something on my mind, something from earlier. But it faded away as I stroked my sweet Simon’s body.

“You two cozy up,” rumbled Ethan when he was done. He swatted Simon’s ass. “I’ve got work to do.”

“
Work
?” Simon and I looked at each other, then back at Ethan. Our boss and master stood up, stretching his shoulders, tightening the belly you could bounce a cufflink off. His magnificence took my breath away.

“Maybe you’ve forgotten the business plan, but I haven’t,” he said with a wink, shrugging on a white T-shirt. He found a pair of boxers and disappeared into the living room where he kept a laptop.

Simon and I cuddled on the California king-sized bed that virtually filled the room with its pillow-top luxury. He played with my hair until I went into a lovely swooning daze.

But I’m stubborn. As I drifted off, I said two things to him. First, “I love you.” Second, “Who’s Margo Lang?”

Chapter Three

Margo Lang didn’t take long to appear in my life. The next morning she walked into the office, though I had no idea who she was at first. She looked like a model in a designer-eyewear ad, or like a CEO being interviewed about a new hostile takeover. She wore a black suit cut perfectly to her perfect figure. If we had both been standing, she would have towered over me. A string of pearls glowed tastefully from her neck, contrasting with the sneer on her face. Her eyes were green, sharp and curious.

“Who are you?” Her glance felt like a scalpel, carving me up and down. Obviously she wanted to make me uncomfortable, but I stared back, refusing to give in to her rudeness.

“I’m Dana Arthur, the receptionist. Can I help you?”

“Receptionist of the month?” She said with a kind of lofty disdain. “Or of the week, perhaps? The boys always did have shocking turnover in their staff.”

Somehow she made both “turnover” and “staff” sound dirty. She made
me
feel dirty.

She tilted her glasses down her thin nose and gave the foyer a scornful look. “He hasn’t even redecorated. So like a man.”

“May I help you?” I asked again, through clenched teeth.

“That depends. Are you decent?”

“Excuse me?” I glanced down at my outfit. Knee-length gray plaid kilt, demure little sunshine-yellow twinset straight from the fifties. Literally—I’d acquired it at a thrift store.

“I mean, underneath.” She aimed her evil X-ray vision at me, or at least that’s how it felt. As it happened, I was dressed with uncharacteristic modesty. Stockings and old-fashioned garters to match my vintage theme, and a full-coverage teddy. No panties under the garters, but you can’t have everything.

“How is that any of your business?” If she thought she could intimidate me, she was in for a shock. I grew up getting yelled at by an alcoholic lunatic and Frankenstein’s bride. An eyewear model didn’t scare me.

“Didn’t you know? I own twenty percent of this business’s profits. And since the business is made up of the three of you, I prefer to think I own twenty percent of you.”

My jaw dropped. Literally. Just fell open.

“I wonder which twenty percent Ethan will assign to me?” She prowled toward the desk. I scowled at her, refusing to play into her tactics. “Your lovely face?” She chucked me under the chin as if I were a child. “Perhaps a nipple?”

Before I realized what she was doing, she reached to the front of my sweater and scraped her curved fingernail across my nipple. Her nails were long and red, like enameled claws. A shuddering sensation ricocheted from my nipple to my groin. Damn her. Damn my frisky nipples. I slapped her hand away in outrage.

She laughed. “Liked that, did you?”

“Keep your repulsive hands off me.”

“Or maybe Ethan wants to keep your tits to himself. He always was a breast man. Has he pierced your nipples yet? Led you around on a leash? Ethan and his pets, he’s so adorable with them. Well, so be it. He can keep your precious breasts. Maybe he’ll offer me your pussy, or better yet, your ass. I’d like to spank some sense into you. I’d like to see you spread bare-assed across this desk, awaiting the slash of my whip.”

“That’s never going to happen, you freak.” I stood up. “Ethan’s busy right now. Maybe you should come back some other time. Like when you’ve undergone a complete brain transplant. Personality too, while you’re at it.”

“Cute. Spunky. I like.” Again she reached forward and cupped my breast. But this time, before I had a chance to smack her hand away, she withdrew it as quickly as though my nipple had magic bitch-repelling powers.

“I’ll have you arrested,” came Ethan’s deadly voice. “Restraining order, sex offender list, the works.”

Ethan stalked toward us, blue eyes blazing with unholy fury. Margo took three steps backward.

“You can’t do that,” she said. “Have you forgotten my stake in the business?”

“Have you forgotten all common standards of decency? Not to mention federal and state laws against sexual harassment?”

Only a foot or so from the door, she took her stand with a snort. “You’re kidding me, right? You’re accusing me of sexual harassment?”

“Dana,” Ethan barked without looking at me. “Have you ever been sexually harassed on these premises?”

“Not until she walked in the door,” I said promptly. Only the truth. Everything Simon, Ethan and I had ever done together had been entirely, blissfully consensual.

“I know what goes on here,” Margo spat as Ethan kept advancing on her, one relentless step after the other. “I’ll put you out of business. I swear I will.”

“If you still want me, Margo, why don’t you just say so?”

She spun around in a black-suited whirl of outrage, but not before I saw the heat that flared in her eyes. So Ethan had fucked her. He’d had his cock in that intimidating, confident woman. Or maybe he’d just spanked her.

Her eyes, hard and green like a cat’s, sparked with outrage. Of course, I knew it was true. First of all, how could anyone be around Ethan and not want him? Secondly, a woman like her cried out for a firm hand. If you asked me, she was throwing a tantrum just so she could get Ethan’s attention.

He stopped when he was about two inches from her. She narrowed her eyes at him and raised her chin, daring him to touch her, challenging him to cross the same line she’d crossed. But Ethan was too smart for that.

“Out,” he said, simply. “When I bought you out I rid myself of any obligation to look at you again.” Ethan gave a dismissive motion with his hand.

She went even stiffer than before, from executive shark to offended empress. “Don’t treat me like that. I’m warning you.”

“Warning received and ignored. If you come back, keep your lawyer on speed-dial. Which, as I recall, he always was.”

“So you remember the old days after all?”

“I remember what I need to. And I don’t hesitate to use it.”

They stood chin to chin, willpower to willpower, but Ethan didn’t back down to anyone. Before long her gaze faltered and slid away.

“Just don’t…don’t be surprised when something bad happens. Something very, very bad.”

I shivered. Was she cursing us? Maybe she practiced black magic. It would explain her witchy attitude.

She backed off and hurried down the hallway out of sight. Ethan stood watching, hands in his pockets, every line of his body radiating tension.

“Okay, Ethan,” I said as he turned in my direction. “You owe me. I got groped by someone who told me they own twenty percent of me. I think I’ve earned an explanation. Or at least a stiff drink.”

“Probably both.” A grim smile ghosted across his rugged face. No one would call Ethan a pretty boy, but he had the kind of face you couldn’t look away from. “That was Margo Lang. She’s a snake and a rat all in one, like some sort of genetic mutation. She’s the former owner and chief executive officer of Lang and Associates, the name by which Cowell & Dirk was formerly known.”

It took me a moment to puzzle out the “formers”.

“She used to own Cowell & Dirk?”

“Precisely. It was her baby. She owned it. Simon was Vice President. Then she got into some trouble with the law.” Fascinated, I watched him stroll across the lobby, a prowling wild creature in a business suit. “Financial law, to be precise. She tried to blame it on Simon. She set him up to take the fall. He was arrested and almost jailed.”