Submitting to the Boss (10 page)

She’d figured out that he hadn’t tried to set
her up with James, the apartment agent. Thank God she hadn’t done
anything. Ruby was no longer willing to risk pissing off Holt. He
was predictable at work, meaning he didn’t let a day go by without
showing her who was in charge of her orgasms, her body, her
emotions. And Ruby loved it. But when was he going to take it the
whole way? He hadn’t even gone down on her. Everything was
foreplay. She was crazy for the real thing.

Maybe it would finally happen on Saturday
night, after they took Mr. Gorton out on the town.

“Wear a cocktail dress,” Holt told her on
Friday.

He’d taken her on customer junkets before,
especially if the wife was attending, though this time, Mr. Gorton
was coming alone. Ruby was there to take notes, and if there were
any details that needed attending to, she did that, too. Holt
always introduced her as his secretary and was completely
professional, never looking, never touching. But it didn’t hurt to
have a little eye candy around. Ruby knew she made good eye
candy.

The limo would pick her up at a quarter to
seven. Though the distance to San Francisco was relatively short,
the traffic into the City on a Saturday night could be brutal,
hence, when booking the limousine, she’d allowed a full hour rather
than half an hour.

She’d had everything brought over from
storage, and Ruby spent Saturday arranging her furniture in the
apartment and unpacking some boxes. Then she took a long bath,
making sure her skin was silky smooth and sweetly scented.

Thong or no thong? In the end, she chose the
sexiness of going without panties, just the thigh-high stockings.
She paired those with an elegant black cocktail dress that didn’t
plunge too low or ride too high. She would be his perfect little
hostess. And his dirty little mistress under the dress.

The limo was on time, picking her up first,
and they made it to Holt’s house by seven. He gave her a
perfunctory kiss after he’d climbed in beside her. He wore his
business face and a black tux. He looked so yummy her mouth
watered.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked as the
limo hit freeway speed on Highway 101.

“Yes, please.”

The car had two big bench seats facing each
other, plenty of leg room, a privacy partition between them and the
driver, and a bar hidden in a console on one side. Holt popped the
champagne cork.

“Nice.” She raised an eyebrow. “Did you call
and arrange for that?” Because she hadn’t.

“The idea came to me today.” He handed her a
glass, then saluted her.

It was very good champagne. “So are you going
to debauch me before we pick up Mr. Gorton?”

Holt laughed. “No.”

Ruby pouted. “But I wore thigh-high
stockings, and I didn’t put on panties.”

He was on her in a flash, without spilling a
drop of wine, his hand up her skirt, finding the sexual dew between
her legs. “Slut, you’re already wet.”

“Then you better take advantage of me.”

He withdrew, sat back. “No.”

Ruby sighed. “When?”

“When what?” He raised a brow as if he were
completely innocent.

“When are you”—she leaned in to run a finger
down his chest—“going to do me?”

“You’re not ready.”

“God, Holt, I’m
so
ready. If I get any
more ready, I’ll burst.”

“I’ll tell you when you’re ready.” He sipped
his champagne.

He didn’t touch her for the remainder of the
agonizing drive. He was all business, telling her the game plan for
Gorton’s Monday visit to the plant, the tour and presentations. She
knew it all; she’d arranged it, for heaven’s sake. Holt seemed to
use the discussion to hold her at bay. The champagne, however, made
her feel very sexual, and his scent in the car drove her insane. He
could do
something
to her. Maybe she should take the bull by
the horns, so to speak, and stroke his cock...

Ruby lost track of what he was saying, her
mind wandering to erotic fantasies.

Then the limo was pulling to a stop at the
Westin. Their driver got out, the back door opened, and a man
climbed in, taking the seat opposite, his back to the privacy
partition.

Holt held out his hand as the driver closed
the door once more, shutting out the city noise. “It’s good to
finally meet you.”

Mr. Gorton smiled as they shook hands. “I
appreciate the special attention.” Then he glanced at Ruby.

“This is Ruby,” Holt said.

The man smiled. “She’s perfect.”

Which was kind of an odd thing to say. He was
on the high side of forty, possibly fifty, his hair graying, with
only flecks of his original dark color in it. A swarthy complexion
spoke of a Mediterranean heritage despite his name being generic.
He was fit, his tux forming nicely to his body. On a scale of one
to Holt, he was almost up there with her boss.

Ruby felt drunk on the testosterone in the
air.

The intercom made a soft warning noise, then
the driver’s voice filtered through the car.
“Where to,
sir?”

Holt pressed a button. “Just drive around the
area for a bit of sightseeing.”

The Westin was on Union Square. The streets
were teeming with sightseers, partygoers, and tourists still doing
a bit of shopping. The windows of the limo were smoked so that no
one could see in, but they could see out. People stared, perhaps
wondering if there was a celebrity inside.

Then Gorton said, “Do we have her for the
whole night?”

Holt shook his head. “I booked her for three
hours.”

“Then I suggest we get started. I wouldn’t
want to waste a moment of this lovely lady’s time.”

Ruby looked at them, shifting her gaze from
one to the other, then landing on Holt.

“Pull up your dress, Ruby,” Holt said softly.
“Let the man see what I’m paying for.”

She couldn’t believe it. He’d told Gorton she
was a hooker. A whore. And that he’d booked her for three
hours.

He’d said he would give her cock. He’d said
he’d choose for her. And he’d watch. But to tell his
customer
she was a whore?

For a moment, Ruby was so outraged she
couldn’t speak. Then Holt put his hand on her knee. Leaning in,
lips to her ear, he whispered. “You want to do everything I say,
don’t you, Ruby. You need to fuck him while I watch.” He swiped his
tongue along her ear. “Then maybe you’ll be ready.”

Just like that, a wave of heat rode through
her body. Clay had said he’d take her to a bar, find a man for her,
send her up to a room. Holt had gone several steps further. He was
pimping her out to his customer.

This was so much better.

Chapter Eleven

Holt pulled back from Ruby, her seductive
scent clinging to him. Her eyes were the color of the earth, and
stormy. Her nostrils flared, but he smelled the heat of her sex.
He’d planned it very carefully. He’d chosen this setting, this man;
he was perfect for her. Older, attractive, fit. And horny.

“Pull your skirt to your waist and let the
man see you,” he ordered.

Ruby licked her lips, making her red lipstick
shine. She wore her hair down and flowing. The black dress had a
scooped bodice that revealed only a hint of her magnificent
cleavage. The stockings were black and sheer.

There had never been a more beautiful or
sexual woman.

He still wasn’t sure whether she’d fight him
or not, until she slowly slid her hands down her abdomen and along
her thighs to the hem of her dress, which only just made it within
his three-inch limit.

Ruby raised the dress just as leisurely,
revealing luscious thighs an inch at a time. His breath caught in
his throat at the first sight of her neatly trimmed pubic hair.

He glanced at the man he’d called Gorton. His
gaze was fixed on the sweet triangle between Ruby’s legs as she
lifted her bottom and drew the black dress over her hips. A drop of
moisture pearled along her center.

“What would you like her to do?” Holt asked.
“She’s yours to command for tonight, and she’ll do anything you
tell her.”

Ruby gasped. The man said, “Anything?”

Holt gazed at her steadily. “Anything.” Then
he glanced across at Gorton. “Unless
I
don’t approve of it,”
he emphasized.

The man raised one dark brow. “And all you’re
going to do is watch.” It was half statement, half question.

Holt let his teeth gleam in the dim car.
“Yes. That’s what I enjoy.”

Gorton smiled, too. “I want her to touch
herself for me. But she’s not to come yet.”

They both looked at Ruby. Ruby simply stared
at Holt, a little bewildered, if the widening of her eyes meant
anything.

“Don’t speak, just do,” he said softly.

The car moved at a snail’s pace, trapped in
traffic. A few passersby tried to peer through the glass, yet all
the sounds were muffled, car horns and the clank of the trolleys
distant, voices and music a gentle buzz outside the windows. The
partition was up, so the driver couldn’t hear, and the glass was
darkened to obscure what went on behind it. He, Ruby, and Gorton
were virtually alone in the back of the limo as Ruby spread her
legs and slid a hand between her thighs.

“Her pussy is gorgeous and looks so sweet,”
Gorton said in a low and husky voice.

“It’s very sweet,” Holt agreed.

Ruby circled her clit, then tipped her head
back against the seat, closing her eyes to enjoy the feel of her
own touch.

“She loves to perform,” Gorton observed. “I’d
enjoy seeing her with another woman. There’s nothing like two
ladies touching each other. She needs a feminine mouth on her right
now.”

Ruby moaned. Because of Gorton’s scenario?
Holt had never thought of it, but the set-up was something to
explore at a later time.

“She’ll do anything.” He winked at Gorton.
“Perhaps the next time you’re out here.”

“I’ll bring my wife. She loves to lick a
woman as my cock impales her.”

Oh, this guy was good. Holt smiled, and his
cock surged in his tux pants.

Ruby slipped a finger in her pussy and
panted. Then she opened her eyes, and her gaze was dark and
dreamy.

Gorton leaned close across the expanse
between the two seats. “Let me taste her fingers while she keeps
her other hand on herself.”

As if Holt had issued an order, Ruby held out
one hand, her fingers covered with her moisture, her scent. Gorton
sucked them, closed his eyes, groaned, as Ruby went on pleasuring
herself.

Holt ached to touch her, taste her. But for
now, it was all about Ruby and Gorton. Whatever Gorton
wanted—within reason.

The man freed her fingers, licked his lips as
if he’d just finished a delectable meal, then let her hand slip
slowly from his as he moved back to his seat. “I’m ready for more,”
he said, his gaze hot on Ruby.

“What would you like?” Holt queried. He
wanted to watch Ruby suck the man. Knowing exactly how it felt, he
also wanted to drink in the sight so that he could replay it all
when they were alone and he made her suck him. It would be double
the pleasure.

“I want to bury my face in her pussy. Have
her get on the bench seat over here.” Gorton patted the luxurious
leather beside him.

Holt’s cock pulsed. He hadn’t taken that
pleasure yet himself. But it was such a good idea. When he licked
her, he wouldn’t be able to see her well. But with Gorton doing it,
he would have the image of her face in ecstasy burned into his
brain.

He snapped his fingers at Ruby and
pointed.

Her temper flared a moment, cheeks reddening,
her lips thinning. Then her indignation melted away, and she went
down on the carpet between the seats, crawling to Gorton’s side.
The dress didn’t quite fall over her ass, and the sight of her pert
bottom in the air was unbearably erotic.

He imagined taking her while she sucked
Gorton, just lifting the dress and pushing deep inside her. His
breath stalled in his chest.

Ruby lay back flat on the seat, not even
bothering to ask Gorton what position he wanted. She spread her
legs invitingly, turning her head to gaze at Holt. A fire burned in
her eyes. He couldn’t tell whether it was anger or desire.

Then she held her hands out to Gorton,
drawing him down between her luscious thighs. Exactly where Holt
wanted to be.

* * * * *

Don’t speak, just do.

Holt’s words echoed in her mind as Mr.
Gorton’s mouth nuzzled her pussy.

God, it was ecstasy, freedom. Not the man
between her legs, but Holt’s permission. She didn’t have to beg or
cajole or seduce or tempt or play any of her little sexual tricks.
All she had to do was keep her mouth shut...and
do
.

Mr. Gorton spread the delicate lips of her
sex and delved deep, his tongue wet and warm. But Holt’s gaze on
her was hotter, pushed her higher. He was selling her, and it was
the hottest thing she’d ever known. She wanted to watch his
expression, savor every subtle nuance—especially since he claimed
she
didn’t
savor—but the pleasure overwhelmed her. She put
her head back, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the mouth on her, the
tongue inside her.

“Oh God, oh God.” Her tension built, and she
pushed her hands through her hair, arching into the man between her
legs.

Then she needed to see Holt again. He sat
indolently in the seat, one leg crossed over the other.

She spoke to him, as if Mr. Gorton were just
an extension of him. “It’s so good, God,
so
good. Let me
come. Please let me come.”

“Make her come, Gorton. Make her come
hard.”

They’d talked about her, around her, not to
her. As if she was nothing more than a sexual object, there only
for their pleasure. It added an extra thrill.

And Mr. Gorton sucked at her wildly, licking,
teasing, adding his fingers into the mix. She’d been high from
touching herself, but between Holt’s voice and this man’s mouth,
she burned.