Fool Like You Read online

Page 2


  With a loud cry – a tinge of beautiful pain – I come hard. My forehead rests against the glass while shuddering, unable to stand on my legs, and almost drooling. I can hear him panting behind me, happy as I am, leaning his chin on my back and his hands clubbing my sensitive breast.

  Then suddenly his cell phone rings.

  What a perfect timing.

  I don’t feel I have the energy to feel shocked or to wake up from the thrill and feel of the moment. Lust has taken over me and him and any catastrophe that happens in the world right now would feel so trivial.

  He picks up the phone. I hastily rearrange my clothing as the elevator chugs back down the shaft. His eyes never stop looking at me while I dress up and he talks on the phone. It seems the office is asking about me. They say I was seen riding in the elevator but don’t know where I went. Arrogantly, he fakes being upset with me for not arriving on time.

  Billionaire Bastard.

  I will later tell them that I had to go to the bathroom, and then deal with this jerk. Right now, I am doing my best to catch my breath and get out of here. I fumble for the floor buttons, pressing every button within my reach. This seems to only amuse him.

  As I get out, he says something to me, “You taste even better than I imagined.” He muses, licking his fingers. The look he gives me makes my knees weak. I snort and walk away to the nearest bathroom. I couldn’t even let myself think about what happened, each step away replaying the scene in my head again. I decide I can’t think straight and take the stairs instead of the elevator forty floors down the garage. It is a crazy thing to do but each floor down gives me more time to rethink.

  I arrive at my car and call the office, pretending I am sick now, and that had a I have to visit the doctor, and that I might be back in two hours. I don’t care if he fires me. I can’t allow myself to think of what had just happened until I get far away from here. I don’t know why I feel this way. I think I want to be as far away as possible from him.

  Rearranging my hair in the rear view mirror, I stare at my reflection and wondered if that is me staring back.

  What. The. Fuck. Was. That.

  3

  “Shit,” I mumble to myself, driving aimlessly around eighth avenue. No matter how many times I ask myself, ‘What the hell was that?” I don’t have the answers. Looking at the cars next to me, I start feeling paranoid that I’d meet someone I know. However I think of it, there is no explanation to what just happened.

  Glancing out the window, I find a good looking man in his BMW looking back at me. I keep staring at him, wondering if my nipples would harden looking at a rich man who looks like he just came out swimming of a GQ magazine.

  But nothing happens. Why is this happening with Mr. Dyer then?

  I hate the bastard, hate him, but still fantasize about him. Did he know that? Is that why he approached me today? Am I such an open book?

  God. I am the one who always warns my friends from dating assholes who want nothing but to get in my pants. I had my share of bad boys in college already. I don’t need a man like Sebastian Dyer. What’s wrong with me? What happened today is so not like me.

  My cell rings. It’s him. The bastard.

  “Well, if you think that you can just leave the building and smell sunshine outside, forgetting you have a job to do, better sign your resignation beforehand, Alice,” He says with a demanding tone of a dead man with no soul. Fucker! “Because I have meeting to attend in 45 minutes. It’s enough time for me to hire a new lawyer.”

  Shit. I forgot. The meeting with the Lu Si Rare company. I am the one who has all the legal details. I could get fired right now. But should I tolerate him being an asshole about it? Paychek is a biiiiitch!

  “Yes, Mr. Dyer,” I grit my teeth and see the all the cussing words I want to call him in the reflection of my eyes in the car’s mirror. “I will be right there,” I play secretary, which means I play nice, obedient, and down to earth. These characteristics come with the job or you don’t get hired. Bosses don’t like secretaries who have strong opinions.

  “That’s not how I like you to respond to my wishes, Alice,” He says. “Didn’t we agree on how you respond to me?”

  Bastard. Fucker. I am going to kill you!

  I grit my teeth harder, my jaw tightens while trying to keep my voice playful, and then I say the words he likes me to say, “As you wish, Sir.”

  “That’s it,” He says. I swear I can see the smirk on his face in my mind’s eyes. “Now get me coffee with hazelnut flavor and a something sweet to eat on your way. You got twenty minutes max.”

  4

  Going back to the office, I curse him in every way possible, then I curse my body that betrayed me this morning.

  Gathering the files from my desk, I can’t stop but listen to other female workers and how they admire Sebastian’s beauty; how they all shared their secret fantasies about him making love to them. It isn’t unusual to hear these things on a perfectly normal working day. But today I can’t stand them gossiping about how many girls, models, actresses he has slept with. Have I become on of his girl toys today? It’s not like he forced me to do anything. He was extremely assertive, yes, but I let him – wanted him – to make me come high near the clouds.

  I walk to the conference room and stop before the door, check myself in a small mirror in the hall, smoothen my hair and pull down my skirt while holding onto the bundle of dossiers. This is supposed to be a meeting but I don’t hear anyone inside, so I knock.

  “Come in,” I hear him say, trying to breathe steadily and calm myself down, because otherwise I would just kick him where it really hurts and lose my job today – but I would also feel good about it.

  Opening the door, I see that there is no meeting. Did he postpone it? Am I too late? All I can see is him sitting at the head of the wooden conference table with floor to ceiling windows overlooking New York behind him. He sits there with his loosened tie, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He is also biting on a pencil softly, tonguing it left and right while staring at me. He is looking right through my blouse, through my soul, and I wonder how far inside me he can see.

  This has to stop. What’s wrong with him today – what’s wrong with me?

  His green eyes make me lick my lips momentarily. I lower my head to avoid his stare, holding the bundle of files to my chest like little schoolgirls. “I apologize Mr—“

  “Take off your cloths, Alice.” He interrupts sharply, but he sounds as if asking me casually to turn on the TV. Nothing special about it.

  What? Did I hear that right? ‘You damn well know you heard that right’, I hear him say in my mind.

  My eyes widen with shock as I look at him like a cat trying to see in the dark. I don’t pull my head up from the weight of moment burning in the back of my neck. Besides, he makes me feel I want to submit to him.

  I am having a little internal dialogue between the girl I used to be and who I am now. I raise my chin up proudly and pursing my lips. Not gonna happen, you spoiled bastard! But when I do that, he fumbles with papers on his desk and starts writing things as he if hasn’t dropped a bomb out of his mouth on me seconds ago. Did he lose interest in me?

  I find myself pulling down the hem of my skirt and feeling embarrassed and confused. Then I fist one hand to my side, fire surging through my soul as I am really considering punishing him in the face. But he has a beautiful face. I wouldn’t want to do anything bad to it. This would have been much easier if he weren’t beautiful.

  I hate myself for loving his gorgeous looks. Sexy as hell. But he is just another selfish prick who women throw themselves at. Like most beautiful men, you just have to wait until they open their mouths and here you go, you lose interest instantly.

  As conceited and arrogant as he is, loved and chased by all women in this damn office, I am the only one who never did such a thing – well, before today’s morning encounter. I loathed him. I talked bad about him. I laughed at him behind his back that rumor had it that my coworkers told
him all about how I hated him.

  I only respect him as a boss, and always do my job excellently. I do it for me, not for him.

  Still, here I am, insecure when he loses interest in me. Even though I know it might be an act, but something devilishly in me wants him as much as I hate him.

  Then I drop the file on the floor deliberately, making sure he hears the sound. I think I see him smirk again, but he doesn’t look at me. I start to unbutton my blouse with my chin up high. It feels like I am preparing for a wrestling match inside me, not taking my eyes off him.

  I see him press a button on the table and I hear the door lock automatically behind me. I understand that there is no meeting now.

  What the fuck are you doing, Alice?

  “Stop.” He said, finally looking at me. What the…? I am going to kill this man. “Slower,” he demands and stands up, walking toward me. My eyes are fixed on the sure way he moves his waist, firm yet swift and energetic.

  But wait. I can wake up from this trance. I can just pull back and be who I am and not so out of character.

  I am too late. He pulls my hands as I feel hypnotized. He turns me around and stands behind me and pushes me slightly forward toward the conference table. His hands crawls down into my lower back, all the way to my ass. The heat from his hand sends shivers through my body. I don’t have to be naked to feel his intensity. He has a way to reach me inside. The muscles in my body tense and I bite my lips, trying to roll my eyes behind me, curious of what he is doing back there.

  In my mind, I am pushing him away and screaming at him to never dare touch me again. But all the signals my mind sends to my body are rejected. My poor nipples harden for the third time today, and they trigger the memory of the orgasm I had a couple of hours ago by the same hands on my ass right now. Traitor nipples. Traitor body.

  Within the silence of the conference room, and the way he slowly takes advantage of me, I think I hear my heartbeats loud in my ears. Is that heartbeat too that dances with mine?

  “Turn around,” he says with that same calm and assured tone, as if the possibility of rejecting him doesn’t even exist. I will turn around as a matter of fact, like the sun rises every morning.

  I turn around with closed eyes and a silent gasp. He moves his hand on my hip and I feel his eyes looking at me. I am so hesitant to open mine. I know if I do, I will lose my last hope of resisting him.

  He says nothing, but I pictures his gorgeous face with my mind’s eye. Case lost. I can’t escape his beauty, even with my eyes closed.

  I surrender and open my eyes, titling my head a little higher to look into his. His chest is rising and falling, I could tell from the sound, unable to free myself from the invisible light connecting our eyes.

  He takes advantage of my distraction and pushed his thumb inside me, and begins to move it slowly back and forth.

  I am wondering if his intense eyes are waiting for me to stop him or resist him. I could have done that this morning in the elevator already, or when he demanded me to take off my cloths. He knows how much I hate him, yet enjoys how I can’t resist his touch. How did this ever happen to me? How am I longing for his touch like that while I loathe the bastard?

  The moister is beginning to seep into my panties. I let out a sigh as I grab his muscle shoulder with one hand, not only for balance, but because I want to feel his lean muscles.

  He slides his hands lower, his rough fingers carefully touching my sighs as if inspecting them. It amazes me how his rigid fingers feel soft on my soul, running all the way down my thigh and then clinging to the hem of my skirt. He grips it as if wanting to tear it apart yet wanting to delay the pleasure for a while. Finally, he loses control and moves it inside, touching the top of my stockings and curling his hand around my thigh.

  My body is trembling as he takes all the time in the world to touch me and explore my body. I am in a conflicting battle between despise and lust. I hate myself at the moment as much as I hate him, but I can’t persuade my body to leave.

  Suddenly, I find myself slapping him on his right cheek. What a slap! It clutches, and he is astonished for a moment, but then the smug on his face returns. “Is that all you got?” he nods proudly as if I am a child who slapped him because it does not know what’s is doing, and he is finding it cute. He continues what he was doing to my thighs.

  Secretly, I am glad that he does. The slow ache increasing in my legs is beautiful, and I feel the wetness inside me as his fingers keep stimulating. Noticing how much I like it, he slips his fingers under my panties, feeling my hairless lips. He probes his finger slowly around my clit and I am aching for him to plunge it inside.

  He is such a tease. The way he is looking at me, I can tell he is enjoying my anticipation. My eyes pupil’s widen, staring at his until he finally slides his finger inside me. I bite my lower lip and suppress a smile. I still don’t want him to know for sure that I like it. He can know, but never for sure.

  Lust shines in his eyes now. I see beads of sweat on his forehead. He wants me so bad. I glance down and see has hardened against the inner fabric of his pants. When he notices me glaring at his cock, he slides his finger deeper as if battling the same battle like me inside his head. Somehow, his body is betraying him too.

  His conflict becomes my victory as I manage to show a smug on my face, silently laughing at his weakness toward me, but not for long. He presses harder, yet gently inside me. He knows what his thumb is doing and does it well. Through my pants, unable to paint a teasing smile on my face, I show it through my eyes locked with his. He gets the message and it drives him crazy. He had never showed weakness to anyone. He gets what he wants, when he wants it, sometime without even asking for it. I remind myself of all the women he dated an definitely fucked.

  The surge of light between our eyes cause him to close.

  “Fuck,” he groans, pulling his thumb out and fisting the lace of my panties in his hands. He holds onto it so tightly as if my panties will fly away. Then he opens his eyes again at the same moment he rips my panties away.

  I feel the thin fabric leaving my skin, leaving me undone. He is slightly shuddering now with lust in his eyes like two forever full moon looking down on me.

  Roughly, he pulls me even closer from my hips, lifting me up onto the cold table. I give in, not taking my eyes away from him. There is a challenging grin in my face that I want him to see. He has to know that I am not like the others.

  Again, whenever I challenge him he challenges me back, up a notch. He spreads my legs in front of me with such a concentration I had never seen before on him. It’s like he is buried in the moment and can’t miss any flash of it.

  Heat spreads through my core before he even touches me. His slowness is killing me. I want to zip up his pants and pull out his manhood in my hands but I pull his fingers back to my clit instead. His touch lets me through my head back, staring at ceiling. Thank God there is no mirror up there or I would have hated myself more for not standing up to this man who has my body enslaved on its own will under his command.

  I never knew that we weren’t close friends; me and my body, that is. My body craves his fingers, his lips, and his member.

  I let out a painful sigh and bring my head back as his touch is roughing on me, not in a bad painful way, but in animalistic beautiful way.

  I feel that I am close to orgasm, electricity running through my veins. My two elbows resting on the table shiver slightly, and my thighs feel like jelly as his moves intensify while looking into my eyes. But wait. As much as this coming orgasm feels so good, I want more. More! You can’t just make me orgasm like today in the elevator and leave me undone, starting to boss me around again you beautiful prick!

  I bend forward and pull his loose tie aggressively toward me, his neck aching as he adjusts his neck to the movement. I can see his eyes saying, ‘What the hell!”

  As his fresh and clean breath closes on me, I push his fingers away. He gets the message and stares at me with a rectangular gaze; from one
eye to another to my lips and then back again. It’s as if he wants to read my face eagerly. Then he smirks in his own arrogant way.

  “You want more…” he says as a matter of fact. He sounds impressed and satisfied.

  I am burning here as I have pushed his hands away. He has to act fast or I will weaken and push his fingers back in me and just enjoy this orgasm without getting all that I want from the billionaire bastard.

  But I am not going for his teasing methods anymore. Forget about pulling him from the tie. I pull his shirt in my fists and clutch his lips roughly against mine. He tastes so good I can’t stop myself from biting on his lower lip. He holds my head with his hands roughly as his sucks on my tongue. Now this sends me to the moon. I start undoing his belt immediately.

  “Yes. I want more,” I give his lips access my neck and whisper in his ear, “You better finish what you started.”

  He pushes me slightly away, his eyes staring at my breasts, and then he rips my blouse open. He is not playing slow anymore. I think I got him to lose a bit of control. He cups my breasts roughly it hurts but it feels good too. The pleasure of his animalistic touch is sending surges of lightning through my body. I can’t wait until I finish unbuckling him. I zip up his pants and pull his hard length in my hand. I pleasure myself with looking at it for a moment, rubbing and squeezing it. It pulses against my palm as I hear him moan. This sound coming from him elevates my lust for him. He pulls my skirt up my thighs, and grips my hands and pushes me back onto the table. With my ankles in his hands, my shoes still on, I feel his unapologetic thrust of his member inside me.

  “Fuck,” I scream while his hips slam against me. Now, I am losing all control, moaning and screaming, grabbing for his firm arms as he pushes like an animal.

  “Enjoy the fuck of your life,” He pants with pleasure.