Dangerous Curves: Naughty Little Secrets (5 page)

“Excuse me?”

It was the following morning and Mariah was standing at the edge of my cubicle, tapping her heel.

“You created quite a stir with your column,” she repeated, in case I hadn’t heard her the first time. “Your naughty little secret.”

Uh-oh! She’d found out. But how? And, most importantly,
how much
did she know? Did she know what my column had sparked? Did she know about Nick and I?

“Um, could we talk about this in private?” I asked.

She winked. “Absolutely. Meet me in the conference room in a half hour.”

I spent the next twenty minutes nervously anticipating our meeting. What if Mariah had somehow found out about my night with Nicholas Colby? Not that we’d done much…I still hadn’t had an orgasm with him. Despite all the promises of all the ‘incredible pleasure’ he was going to show me, thus far, I’d really just been ‘showing myself.’

But if Mariah somehow knew, there was no way I could go through with this.

Fortunately, she did not. Despite my fears, it turned out that she had only found out about the column.

Thirty minutes later, when we were seated in the conference room, I asked her point blank how she knew.

“How
did you find out I wrote that column?” I asked. “I put Staff Writer on the byline, just like you always tell us.”

“I have my sources,” she said mysteriously.

“Nick Colby?” I blurted, without thinking.

“Who?” she seemed taken aback. “Oh…wait. You mean
Nicholas
Colby.” She burst out laughing. “Don’t flatter yourself, honey. The odds of Mr. Colby ever reading any of your work are slim-to-none. He doesn’t even read my column, and I’ve been writing it for five years.”

So Nick doesn’t normally read our magazine?
I filed this information away mentally. Well, then, how did he find out it was my column? How did he know I wrote it? Perhaps Mariah could provide some insight, without even knowing it.

“So who told you?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

“I was curious who wrote it, and when none of the freelancers took credit I had IT run a trace. It came back to your computer. I didn’t know for sure that you wrote it, but your response when I asked you basically confirmed it. Good job, Violet!”

Yeah, good job, indeed. How could I have been so
un
smooth? I couldn’t even bluff my way out of simple test from Mariah; what was I thinking getting tangled up with someone like Nicholas Colby?

As it turned out, Mariah’s “good job” had been literal.

“We’re promoting you to guest columnist!” she announced.

“Wow!
Really? Thanks!” I couldn’t believe it. After all these years, I was finally getting a shot at writing for the magazine.

“
Don’t thank me. You earned it. You got quite the Twitter response, my dear!” she said cheerily. “Lots of retweets with links to your article. Our naughty little secrets column was a trending topic all day yesterday. Let’s see if you can repeat the magic next week.”

“Next week?” I asked. Katie, who was already a guest columnist, usually only wrote one piece a month in addition to her editorial duties.
Was Mariah really asking me to write for
Brown-Eyed Girl
on a weekly basis?

It turned out that she was.

“I want to strike while the iron is hot,” Mariah continued. “Oh, and you’ve been cleared by HR to leave for the day. Something about taking off for extra hours you worked last week.

I thanked her for the opportunity, and exited her office to get my stuff together to go home for the day.

I couldn’t believe I was going to get to do another column! This was a dream come true. I had no idea in the world what I would write about next time, though. But before I could think about it for too long, a text message went off on my phone. It was from Nick.

It turned out I wouldn’t be going home after all.

My office. Fifteen minutes. Wear a skirt. Nothing underneath it.

I read the text three times, before replying that I’d be there.

I have a car waiting downstairs.
He shot back.

I wondered if he was really going to deliver the goods, or just tease me again? Fortunately, I was already wearing a skirt – I would have had no time to run home and change clothes. My apartment was at least an hour round-trip from his office building.

I stopped in the second floor bathroom of my work and slid my panties off inside the stall. Walking out onto the street without panties was surprisingly exciting. I felt free…heady with anticipation.

I had just made it downstairs to
dark black Lincoln towncar Nick had sent to fetch me when another text came through:

Where are you?

On my way!
I wrote back.
Be there as soon as I can.

Hurry up. I’ve been waiting all day to taste you….

Whoa! This was not what I was expecting. He had been so reserved the other night, so unwilling to take the plunge and try to pleasure me himself.

I wondered if this was more teasing?

As it turned out, he was not.

He wasted no time, either. As soon as Nick and I were securely behind closed doors, he steered me over to his huge mahogany desk facing the window.

Without so much as a word, he set to work on me. The suddenness of the scene surprised me. I had expected pleasantries, talking. But he had not even said hello.

Before I knew what was happening,
I was lying on my back on his desk. As promised, Nick was kneeling on the floor, his face buried between my legs.

I squirm
ed, parting my legs wider to allow his tongue better access, and a soft moan escaped my lips. The feel of his tongue was incredible, amazing.

I relaxed back against the desk, willing myself to stop thinking so much, to merely enjoy it. As I glanced down I see the bulge of his enormous cock pressing against his pants.

I tried not to think about it. The more anxiety I feel the harder it will be to come. I stare out the window instead.

Nicholas’s office has a breathtaking view of the
New York skyline. If I looked past Nick – his head bobbing up and down rhythmically between my legs, his tongue tracing patterns between my thighs – I could see a row of huge skyscrapers across the way. And if I looked past them…suddenly, I felt a jolt of electricity run through me. Who are those people? Watching us? A man and a woman in a building across the street, in a window on the same level as ours, were huddled close, staring directly at us.

Oh…my….God.

They’re watching as he goes down on me! I realized. I am not naked. In Nick’s rush to get started, he had not removed any of my clothing. The second I walked through the door, he flung me onto the desk, pushed my skirt up with both hands and began hungrily lapping at the space between my legs. No foreplay. No gentle easing in. In fact, I wonder now if this was all part of his plan? He had not allowed me time to take in my surroundings, or I would have certainly noticed the window blinds being open. My instinct is to tell him to stop, to tell him to shut them so no one see us…who knew how many others were out there in New York, watching the little show we were putting on right now?

But I was
too excited to tell him to stop. Arousal was taking over me, consuming me, my pleasure unfolding on stage before a captive audience. I imagined them getting turned on by what they were seeing…this man so eagerly, hungrily diving down between my legs. My body writhing and shaking on the desk, as I moaned in pleasure. My hands in his hair, guiding him into me…. I could feel myself getting wet, wetter than I’d been in so long.

I glance
d up again toward the couple across the way. They hadn’t moved an inch, but were staring, transfixed.
They are definitely watching!
I thought. Watching and enjoying, I think. Before I can talk myself out of it, I begin unhooking the buttons on my blouse until it is completely open. I’m still wearing my black-and-pink lace bra, and my nipples are rock hard beneath it.
Oh, God, how it would feel to expose myself right now!
It would be so wrong, so dirty, so naughty…but also deliriously exciting. Suddenly, the movements Nicholas is making with his tongue – the gentle lapping and tickling – feels electrifying. 

“Oh, God!” I cried
out. Nick responded by intensifying the pressure. I could feel myself getting closer. It wouldn’t happen, I knew, but it was so amazing, it felt so good to lay here, twisting on fire like this….

I
took both breasts in my hands, massaging them gently. Then, in a moment of daring spurred on my ecstasy, I unclasped the front hook of the bra and slowly pulled it off, allowing my breasts to come free.

I
groaned loudly as the cool air hit my nipples. My legs were hanging over Nick’s shoulders and I slid them together, gently squeezing his head between my thighs. I felt Nick’s hands move up my body, reaching expertly until they’d found my breasts. He cupped them in his strong hands and began rolling my nipples over between his fingers.

“Oooooh,” I moaned, squeezing Nick’s head harder between my legs. My hands were now tightly gripping his hair, pulling him into me with great force as his tongue worked between my legs.

I can feel my orgasm building. It’s really going to happen! Finally!

And then, suddenly, just like that, he stopped. He stood up, untangling himself from me.

I
reached for him, tried to push him back.

“I can’t
, Violet. Board meeting in five minutes.”

“Oh, God,
” I begged, grabbing his arm as he started to move. “Please! I was about to come.”

“I’ll be
late for my meeting.” He looked down at his bulging cock and smiled. “Now I guess two of us will have to be uncomfortable.”

“Please, just let me!” I was
whimpering. “I’m almost there!”

He considered
this for what felt like a torturously long time, before finally saying, “I’ll make you a deal. I will continue. But under one condition.”

“Anything!” I shout
ed, not caring what the condition was.

“You must say it.”

“Say what?” I asked, frantic.

“You must ask for it, beg for it. I need you to beg for it.”

“What?” 

“Say it and I will do it.”

I was red hot with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. I didn’t want to do it, but I didn’t see any other choice. I took a deep breath, and whispered the words.

“That’
s not very convincing,” he told me, smirking. “I really don’t have time for this Violet, if you don’t want it badly enough….”

“NO!” I said
hotly. “I do want it.”

He no
dded. “You want what?”

“I want you
to eat me.”

“Louder,” he commanded
. “Like you mean it.”

“I want you to eat me out!”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t make a move.

“Nicholas,” I said,
through gritted teeth. “Please, for the love of God, I’m dying here.”

“And, well….?”

“And, well,” I say, grabbing him by his arm, harder this time. “Get! On! Your! Knees! And! Eat! My! Pussy!”

“That’s more like it,” he smiled
, but he still wasn’t moving.

“Nick
! Do it! Please, will you just do it! Please, for the love of God, eat me out!”

With that, he bowed
, dutifully, and began a slow, painstaking process of trailing kisses up my inner thigh.

“Higher. Please!”

“Yes, that’s it,” he said, pausing to look up at me. “Tell me what to do, Violet. Just keep telling me. The longer you talk, the more pleasure I’ll give you.”

I’m ordinarily quiet in bed, even with
him, but dangling on the brink of an orgasm has made me desperate.

“LICK ME! EAT ME!” I scream
ed, no longer worrying if his office had soundproof doors. 

At first I’m cautious, but that soon gives way as I realize he’s making good on his promise – t
he more I talk, and the dirtier – the more he steps up his game. It was like a voice-operated vibrator, only ten million times better.

“
Harder!” I screamed, rocking my hips against his face. “Oh God, I’m so wet! I want to come all over your tongue!”

I feel his tongue find my clit and in one quick motion he’s wrapped his lips around it. He begins sucking on it with his lips while his tongue darts out and flicks against it.

“Mmmmmm! Oh God!”

It’s all I can take. I explode in an earth-shattering orgasm. My whole body quakes beneath him, writing frantically on the desk. His powerful arms grab hold of my thighs and hold me tightly in place, even as my body is desperately trying to squirm away. I don’t know how many times I come – I lose count as the waves of orgasm after orgasm wash over me.