C4 CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR

SMILE is gone and the intensity is back. Instead of my chest though, he’s watching my face. I look away, behind him at the distant Bay Area skyline. It’s a magnificent view. I can even see the Golden Gate Bridge in the background. Float away, Callie. You remember how this works, don’t you? Just float away and let him do whatever he wants to your body. I’m at the last button. I let my shirt fall slack.

“Hold it open.” Bryan ’s voice has gone deep.

I keep my gaze firmly on the window as I pull the shirt to the side. It’s still tucked into my pants. I have to tug to get it loose enough so that it pulls all the way around the curving edges of my breasts. I look at the floor, but watch Bryce with my periphery vision. Can always run when he makes tries to make a move towards me .

BUT will I?, when he tries to make his move on me I'll stop him right? Shit. I don’t know how far I’m willing for this to go. I need this job. That’s the only reason my breath is getting quicker. Right? I’m putting on a performance.

“Pull the cups of your bra down. Sit those fat luscious tits on top of them.” There’s a rasp to his voice now. Damn. Have I heard a man’s voice like that anywhere outside of a movie?

My breath hitches as I push down the left cup and pull my breast out.

“Mmmm, that’s right,” he says low. “Look at that nipple. So pink and pretty and getting hard just listening to my voice.”

Shit. I look down. My nipple is hard, but it’s not from what he’s saying. It’s not. It’s just cold in here. That’s all. That’s all.

Right, maybe I could believe that. If I weren’t sweating. What is wrong with me? After everything? After—

“Look at me, Penny.” My name doesn’t sound stupid or immature coming from his voice now. “Look at me, in the eye.”

And I do. My eyes all but snap up to obey and meet his gaze. He doesn’t have his hand on his cock like I expected. His hands are braced on the desk and he’s just watching me. Watching my face. Can he see how short of breath I’m getting? Did he see how I just twisted my legs together?

No. Oh my God, this is not turning me on. This is all so wrong. I’m disgusted by this. By this whole situation that he’s putting me in. I swore I’d never be in a position like this again. Ever again.

“Now pull out your right tit,” he says in that deep, growling voice of his, so low it’s almost like it’s mesmerizing me. That’s what it is. I’m not doing this entirely consciously. It’s some kind of spell he’s got me under.

“That’s riiiiiight,” he says slowly. “Pull out that pretty titty, and then roll the nipple in your fingers. Grab both your breasts and rub them. Grab them like you do when you’re touching yourself.”

This is the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done in my life. But I do it. I grab my breasts in both hands as he watches.

“That’s right, twist it.” He speaks through his teeth. “Like that, that’s right my pretty girl. Massage them. Gently at first. Eyes on me.”

I swallow even though my mouth is the driest it’s ever been in my life. He slowly moves from the desk. I see it but I don’t pull back. He’s closer. Just a step away.

“Now I want you to pull a little rougher. Squeeze your nipple between your thumb and forefinger.”

I do it.

He’s so close I can smell him now. Cologne, aftershave, I don’t fucking know what it is or how to describe it. But it smells manly and I can feel the warmth radiating from his hard chest.

And right then and there I decide that no, this is not like what happened before. It’s my choice to be here. I could leave if I wanted. I could jump off this desk and bolt for the door.

But as I pant even harder—oh God, am I really panting now?—I know that for better or worse, I don’t want to go yet. And not just because of needing the money. There’s a telltale heat that’s started in my stomach. It shoots to the place between my thighs and my panties. My cheap cotton Walmart underwear are wet. I can’t— How can—?

Mr. Stirling leans in and I think he’s going to touch me. But even though he’s so close my hands holding my breasts are near enough to brush his chest, he only runs his nose along my cheek, never actually making contact. Like he’s scenting me.

“Are you wet, pretty girl?”

Oh my God. I can feel the heat in my cheeks. He can’t smell that from all the way up here, can he? My hands freeze on my breasts. Everything freezes. What the hell am I doing? How did I get myself into this situation?But Bryan Stirling doesn’t freeze. He moves again, this time shifting around behind me. His breath is hot in my ear as he reaches around me from behind. His hands cover mine ... over my breasts. “Yes, you’re perfect. A perfect little slut, just for me to take out when I want to play.”

At the word slut, he pushes my hands gently away and squeezes my nipples.

What the...? Slut?

The haze of everything starts to clear. This is fucked up. I came