Substitute (19 page)

‘My, my. It must have been good,’ said Richard, unaware that the moan concealed a painful memory, not a pleasurable one.

‘Stop talking, Richard,’ said Alexia, ‘just …’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said. And his mouth was on her. She moaned with the pleasure. She needed his warm tongue, his soft, safe attention. She needed it to block out the morning, to replace it with a happy memory, the way he had done last night on the speakerphone, when he’d brought her to orgasm with his voice, and her own hands.

He pushed his tongue over her clit and flicked and stroked it. She moaned loudly. Then quickly put a hand over her mouth. She didn’t want to wake Romy. Her flatmate had no idea about their nocturnal classroom.

Richard continued to work her with his tongue. It was so different from Tony. This was warm and comforting; the pleasure was not as acute but it was all-enveloping. She felt the tendrils of it reaching around her abdomen as he gently tugged at her nub with his teeth and lapped at her with his tongue.

She ran her fingers through his hair and held his head to her hips as he moved his chin up and down with his tongue, running it along her slit.

He placed his left hand flat on her lower stomach and pulled up, stretching the skin away from her cunt, exposing her clit even more and making it pop out. He flicked it with his tongue and this time she felt an electric jolt.

He ran his other hand up her thigh and wiggled his fingers in her lips, like an anemone fluttering against her.

She felt her juices coating his fingers. Then he slipped two fingers gently inside her, curling them forward against her G-spot.

‘Ahhhhh!’ The sound of soft pleasure escaped from Alexia as if her lungs were deflating with relief. She was losing herself in the delicious feel of Richard’s tongue. It was a soft, curling, uncoiling road to orgasm, not a steep, agonising climb as it had been with Tony. She had been close all day, ever since Tony had left her hanging. She felt as if she had been on the brink since she’d fled that bathroom.

Richard curled and stroked, his fingers working inside as his tongue worked on the opposite bundle of nerves on the outside.

The exquisite sensation filled Alexia completely and she held his head with both hands now, holding his tongue firmly against her. She was close; she didn’t want him to stop. Tony had kept stopping, making her wait, but Richard would not be so cruel. Richard was warm and tender and he was working for her pleasure.

He stroked and stroked and Alexia felt it, the encroaching flood of pleasure. She gripped his head and Richard felt the tension in her legs, felt her internal muscles grip his fingers as the contractions started.

She moaned a long, soft moan as the orgasm unwound in her, a slow uncoiling that turned her veins to liquid mercury.

She stood against the units, panting. It amazed her how despite making no movements, no effort, an orgasm could leave her so breathless, even if just for a moment.

Richard stood up, wiping his chin and lips, covered in her, covered in her wet passion.

‘Well, I don’t think you need any more revision. I think you have that one down pat!’ Richard chucked her chin. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever made a woman come that quick, someone must have set your motor running before I arrived …’

Alexia kissed him. She wanted to silence him. She wanted no reminder of earlier attentions, only Richard’s. She could taste herself on his lips.

‘What about you?’ she said, running her hand along his erection. It was still tucked in his trousers, but it wanted to be free.

She undid his fly and took him in her hand. He breathed in hard, holding his breath for a second as he adjusted to the pleasure of being in her hands.

She started to bend her knees, to go down, but he stopped her.

‘Use your hands,’ he said. ‘I want you to look in my eyes when you see me come. You need to know how to tell when a man is really close. That way you can …’

‘Control him?’ Alexia finished his sentence.

‘Top of the class!’ he said.

He gripped Alexia’s hand and guided her on his cock, showing her the pressure, the speed. She was shocked by how hard he wanted her to hold it, to run her grip over him.

She worked hard, and she watched his face as she pulled and clasped him.

She watched his face as his pleasure mounted, never moving her eyes from his. His eyes became cloudier, his breathing more rapid.

Harder she worked, moving her fingers in a rippling rhythm to draw out an orgasm, to milk it from him.

His breathing was rasping now, the air coming from deep in his lungs. On she went, the muscles in her forearm tensing and tiring, but she never looked away, she wouldn’t show him her tiredness. She was going to bring him to climax.

‘You’re going to come,’ she said, and it wasn’t a question. He had made no sounds, no moaning, tried to give her no clues, but she knew.

She gripped harder and wanked him as forcefully as she could.

‘Come for me!’

‘Aaaahhh!’ Richard exploded. She felt hot come spurt all over her hand, her nightgown; it seemed never-ending as it spilled out of him. He convulsed and his hips thrust forward, making her struggle to hold onto him. He shuddered, as the last drops left him. Then he stopped, breathing very hard. Her eyes never left his. It was an extraordinary intimacy.

His hands were either side of her, gripping the counter top. He sucked in hard, trying to bring his breathing back to normal. He stood back and grabbed a tea towel.

‘Don’t tell Romy!’ He laughed as he wiped Alexia’s hands.

They both giggled, then he wiped himself and threw the towel into the washing machine.

He leant forward and kissed her deeply.

‘I think my little chick is ready to go into the world,’ he said.

Alexia smiled. She hoped he was right.

Chapter Twelve

The alarm clock shook Alexia out of her slumber. She reached an arm out and hit the off button. Ten more minutes. She turned over.

She’d set the alarm early to make sure she’d have enough time to dress well and perfect her make-up. She’d be on show again today, at Wimbledon – with Nathan.

Which Nathan would she get today? she wondered. The cool professional or the gentle, concerned boss? He could switch so suddenly from one to the other. Jekyll and Hyde? No, that was Carter. Nathan was a mystery but she didn’t sense a dark side. Troubled perhaps, but not dark.

Her head was thumping. She had slept very deeply, and the wine had dehydrated her. She reached over and opened her bedside cabinet, fishing around with her hand to find her painkillers, when her hands fell on something unfamiliar. She pulled out a long box.

She blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the semi-darkness. She read the dark lettering.
Rampant Rabbit
.

She sat bolt upright. On the front of the box was a shocking pink Post-it note with a smiley face on it and one word. “Romy!” Followed by a large X.

‘Unbelievable,’ said Alexia out loud. Was the whole world trying to turn her into a sex addict?

She looked at the box again. She’d never owned a rabbit, though she’d certainly heard of them. Who hadn’t? She pulled the cardboard open at one end and the clear plastic tray that contained her new toy slid out with a scrape.
Her
new toy! The idea sent a small, illicit thrill through her. What was it about vibrators? Why did they seem so – well, naughty? Such an old fashioned word, but it fitted.

The rabbit was the same colour as the Post-it. Typical Romy. Even her sex toys had to be beautiful.

At the base was a slightly bulbous part in clear plastic filled with little coloured beads. Decoration? It sheath was long and thick, but not as thick as Nathan, thought Alexia, and she’d only seen him relaxed.

She felt a curling sensation in her sex. How could just the thought of him naked do that? She thought of his body, how the water had run down his torso, down around his long cock as he’d stood in the shower. Her fingers curled around the vibrator. Nathan.

She wished suddenly that Romy had warned her about the toy, told her to buy the batteries that would bring it to life. She slapped it down on the bed in frustration.

Alexia looked at the clock. Still plenty of time. She reached down to the floor and picked up her laptop. She flicked it on and surfed quickly to the pictures of Nathan she’d found before.

A new picture emerged. Nathan with Iorizzo, Lopez, and Carsten. All smiling for the camera. Alexia felt a strange tug of pride. Days ago she’d looked at his image and seen a stranger, but now … She was there, she was right there, standing just behind the photographer!

She reached down and touched her pussy, but it was too soon, she wasn’t ready. She looked at the rabbit with its delicious pink ears, soft jelly that could hum and shiggle to coax even the most reluctant clit.

Damn it! she thought. She looked at the useless lump of rubber and plastic. It’s no use like this! But as she stared at it, a slow realisation brought a cautious smile to her lips. Romy was a PA. And a good PA takes care of everything, leaving nothing to chance, nothing left undone. Every little detail …

Alexia picked up her rabbit and clicked.
Buzzzzzzzzzz.

She giggled. ‘You think of everything, don’t you?’ she said as if Romy had been in the room.

The pink beads swirled and jiggled around and around in their casing, as the head rotated. So that’s what they were for. She imagined the stimulation they would give, colliding against each other as they jostled in their casing, around and around.

Alexia breathed out and closed her eyes. She lay back and pulled her nightie up to expose her body. She was still covered by her quilt; she kicked it to the end of the bed.

She stretched out her legs and brought the lightly humming rabbit ears up to her nipples. She looked across the bed at Nathan; he stared straight at her.

The ears dusted the tip of her breast. A small sound escaped on her out breath. She let the vibrating jelly bring her nipples up to standing and breathed through the gentle pleasure as it warmed her body.

The rabbit was noisier than the bullet, and the colliding beads added a layer of sound to its motion. But she didn’t care. Romy and Richard would still be fast asleep at this hour. She was alone, this was private.

She moved her hand to stroke her now dampening curls, sliding her fingers along the tops of her inner thighs, just below the tips of her inner lips.

She looked at Nathan and imagined his fingers, those long, strong fingers she had studied when they covered her hand in the car. They were elegant fingers; they would be gentle at first, she thought, teasing and sensual. She moved her fingers in little circles as the rabbit’s attention was fixed on her nipples. Nathan’s mouth on her breasts? She looked into his eyes, at his lips, strong, smooth lips. She remembered the taste of him as she brought her fingers closer to herself. She felt her wetness increase.

His eyes looked into her, urging her on.

She moved the rabbit down, tracing the jiggling ears along her stomach. Nathan’s hands, Nathan’s fingers, running down; a straight line down the middle, down to the secret place she longed for him to touch.

She fixed on his eyes again. She could almost imagine the fire in them, watching her pleasure, the pleasure that came from his touch.

The ears whispered through her downy hair as they settled either side of her now straining nub. She felt the surge, a small gasp. Nathan, look what you do to me. Look at what I want you to do to me …

The rabbit ears were vibrating against her clit now, teasing it from either side, a flurry of buzzing and fluttering, filling her pussy with want.

She pinched her nipple with her free hand. Nathan’s teeth. Gentle nipping as the pressure intensified.

She rubbed her heels on the bed, lifting her knees to open herself. The bullet had pleasured her but her delicious little friend had been replaced by a better one, a pink and rampant one that had so much more to offer.

She turned the rabbit so the tip faced her now yawning cunt. She felt it rotate and coat itself in her juices, ready to plunder her, to slide into her.

She looked at Nathan. Why can’t this be you? This morning it
is
you, this morning I
will
have you, this morning you’re mine …

She pushed the base and felt the head as it swooshed inside her. Her breath halted. She paused and breathed out, relaxing herself to let the rabbit make its way in, all the way in. Round and round it went as it inched its way up, sweeping over her secret spot. She gasped.

She closed her eyes and felt the urgent motion curling inside her, against her G-spot, over and over. It swirled and curled and she felt herself gripping it. Without thinking, she pinched her nipple hard. She was long past thought, this was instinct now, a primeval, driving need, and she knew how to feed it.

The rabbit was up to the hilt, the beads circling faster as she turned up the dial. She bit her lip as she looked at Nathan. What would she look like to him? If he was looking down at her now, driving his cock into her now, what would he see? Would he see how she felt, how she needed him?

She rode the waves and closed her eyes. She had his face fixed in her mind, his eyes boring into her. The pulsating in her cunt grew stronger; she turned the dial again. Now the rabbit was racing, racing to the finish line. The head rotated against her G-spot as the ears trembled against her clit. A pincer movement of exquisite torture.

‘Nathan! Nathan!’ She voiced her need now, not caring who would hear. She grabbed the end of the vibrator and held it jammed into her with both hands. Two final circles and she came. She pushed her head back into the pillows as the first contraction rocketed through her pelvis. Then another and another, jerking, bucking contractions, followed by a flooding of warmth and peace.

She lay flat. She dropped her knees, her legs lying limply. Spent, exhausted, sated.

She opened her eyes and looked across at his face and felt a pang of regret. ‘But you weren’t really here!’ she said quietly. ‘It wasn’t really you.’

An hour and half later she arrived at the office, dressed as usual in tight skirt, beautiful blouse, and heels. Her morning’s fantasy was still fresh in her mind.

It was still very early, and there were only two staff in the office. She made her usual hellos, and found that they paid her a little more attention than usual. She was the boss’s right-hand woman now, even if only temporarily, and she was getting noticed.

She looked at her computer and saw a message blinking on the internal network.

Message: Nathan Fallon - Come and see me when you get in.

Message Sent: 6.45 a.m.

She felt her heart skip a beat. She knew she would see him today, they had to go to Wimbledon together, and yet a simple message could make her lose her composure. And why was he here so early?

Her hands were perspiring and her mouth was dry. She got up and smoothed down her skirt. This was crazy: if she couldn’t control the way she reacted to him, pretty soon her nerves would be in shreds.

As she moved through the office, she tried to breathe some calmness into herself. She went into the small kitchen. She would take Nathan a coffee; that’s what personal assistants do, she would anticipate his needs.

A quick examination of the shiny, complicated coffee machine made her doubt her ability to anticipate anything. No instant here; fresh ground, only the best. She’d only ever made herself tea; she had no idea how to work it. She picked up a cup. Where to start?

‘Need any help?’ Tony was standing in the doorway.

‘You always seem to turn up, don’t you –’ said Alexia coolly.

‘When I’m needed?’ He finished the sentence.

She didn’t respond. He was still very handsome, damn him. He stepped forward and took charge of the machine.

‘How do you take it?’ he said, his eyes dancing. His double meaning was obvious. Alexia fumed.

‘It’s not for me,’ she said. ‘It’s for Nathan.’

‘Ah, the boss man. Well, we’d better make sure he gets it just the way he wants it.’

Alexia couldn’t help but wonder what “the way he wants it” would mean. She pushed the thought from her head.

‘Strong and blaaaack,’ said Tony, exaggerating every syllable.

The coffee machine hissed into life under his expert hand. He took the cup from her hand and poured the aromatic, dark coffee into it. He put the cup on a saucer and handed them to her.

She took them without thanking him and turned to leave. He stopped her, holding her arm.

‘We still have unfinished business, you and I. Don’t pretend like we don’t. You weren’t running yesterday morning, not until Nathan showed up. You were loving it, you were about to beg me for it – and you know it!’

He had moved very close to her. She could smell his sweet aftershave; smell the fresh toothpaste on his breath. She wanted to slap him, to run out the room, but she was holding a cup of scalding hot liquid and she didn’t dare spill it.

He was right and she knew it. The memory of his cock tickling her pussy, the realisation that she’d been seconds away from begging him to fuck her, gave her a sickening feeling deep in her stomach. She thought about throwing the coffee in his face. But she realised too that she wasn’t feeling turned on by the nearness of him, not any more.

She wriggled free of him, mumbling an excuse that Nathan was waiting for her, and left the kitchen. But he’d unnerved her. Last night, Richard had helped her forget, but the memory was fresh again, disturbing. She had nearly begged him, she had certainly silently begged him. There was no doubt of that. She knew it – and he knew it. No blushing denials would work here. She longed for Nathan, but he had given his attention to another woman, and she had run for solace elsewhere. Solace? Is that what it was? Or just a need to disentangle herself from the “frigid” label that had hung around her neck for too long now?

Nathan’s door. She’d arrived all too quickly. She knocked gently, but heard no answer. She took a deep breath and opened the door, trying not to let the cup rattle as she steadied her nerves. She stepped in to find the room empty. She was putting the cup and saucer on the table when she heard his voice.

‘You’re early!’

She turned around to see him in his little bathroom,
that
bathroom.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt. He appeared to have been washing, and his chest was damp. The wet black curls clung to his skin. She wanted to bury her head in them. Had he been here all night? She watched as he towelled himself dry.

She stammered, ‘I just wanted to make sure everything was OK – for Wimbledon – and I brought you some coffee …’

He looked at her, studying her. She blushed. ‘Thank you,’ he said quietly.

They regarded each other, neither moving nor speaking. She looked into his eyes, the same eyes that had stared out at her from her laptop this morning as she’d fucked herself, when she’d imagined his hands and his cock pleasuring her.

She wasn’t quite sure how it happened, or if she’d made a conscious decision. But she found herself walking straight towards him, straight up to him.

She put her hands on his chest and looked up into his face. His mouth had fallen open; he was caught off guard.

His hands moved cautiously onto her shoulders, then something seemed to shift inside him, seemed to snap, and suddenly he was enveloping her, wrapping his arms around her. She felt a surge go through her abdomen and then his mouth was on hers.

She melted against him as his lips pressed against hers. She tasted him again, drank in the warm, masculine smell of him. He pulled her up to meet his mouth, as her heels came off the floor and she strained on tiptoes to accept his lips.

The kiss was endless, searching, tasting, probing. She felt his hand move up her side, tracing up her ribcage to settle on her breast.

She felt him pressed against her, felt his erection harden with the contact.