His Every Touch [The Complete Series] (3 page)

As he paced the length of his office, Vance ran
through the prior day's events, searching for any indication that he'd pushed
too hard.
“
Are things too hard for you, Ms. Bell?” He
stressed the word intentionally, all too aware of his erection threatening to
make itself known.
When her jaw snapped shut, he had to suppress a
grin. He straightened and circled around behind her, choosing his words
carefully. “You did well your first two years here. Maybe all you need is some
discipline.”
He was thankful she couldn't see the expression
that he knew crossed his face. There were so many ways he wanted to discipline
her. He had to touch her. Before he could second guess himself, he ran his
finger over the back of her neck, the heat from her skin blazing through him.
“
Mr. Forster.”
He smirked when his name came out as a squeak. It
was time to see just how obedient she was going to be.
“
Mr. Forster...”
He cut her off. “Stand up.”
When she questioned him, he stepped in front of
her, blood rushing straight to his cock. “Why? Because you need someone to keep
you in line, to provide discipline. Don't you?” He gave her a second to think
it over, letting his eyes show everything he wanted to do to her. “Now, stand
up.”
She did, and he permitted himself the luxury of
his gaze running over her, taking the time to appreciate the moment. He'd been
waiting so long for this, he wanted to savor the first time she obeyed him, the
first time he was able to look at her this closely and not have to hide what he
was doing. “Very nice.” But it wasn't enough. He wanted to see more of her.
“Take off your jacket.” When she started, he knew what she was thinking and
amended his prior statement, letting his tone soften. “Just the jacket.”
As she did what he said, he stepped behind her
once more, not wanting her to see the pure lust in his eyes, or the bulge in
his pants. He clenched his hands, fighting the urge to demand more, to tell her
to strip for him. He wanted to see what lay beneath those garments, the pale
flesh that had haunted him for years. He took a breath, regaining control.
“Hands on the desk.”
He watched her body tense and, for a terrible
moment, he thought she would refuse, ending all of his plans. Then she did it,
bending forward slightly so the fabric of her skirt molded to the curve of her
ass. He hadn't intended to touch her, but he found he couldn't stop himself, he
had to do it. If she rejected him, he'd never have the chance, and he had to
know what it felt like to have his hands on her body, even through a layer of
clothes. He gripped her waist, biting back the moan that wanted to come out.
When she didn't protest, he leaned forward, letting her feel him against her so
his intentions would be obvious. He wanted no misunderstandings between them.
She didn't move, didn't ask him to stop. He ran his hands up her ribcage,
barely daring to believe that she was letting him do this, and then he was
holding her breasts and he thought he'd come right there in his pants. Only the
realization that he needed to continue with her kept him sane.
“
You need someone to take a firmer hand with you,
Ms. Bell. Punish you when you're out of line. Make sure you're living up to
your potential.”
When she shifted against him, he forced a laugh
and took a step back. He didn't want to lose the contact with her body, but he
really didn't want to walk around with damp underwear and pants for the rest of
the day, and one more press of her ass against him and he wouldn't have an
option. The groan of frustration she made was still almost too much, and his
words came out a bit more harshly than he'd intended. “I think you need to
learn the value of patience, Ms. Bell.”
Vance returned to his chair just like he'd done
yesterday. Then, it had been as much to hide his erection and get Courtney out
of his office as quickly as possible so he could dart into his bathroom to take
care of his not-so-little problem. Today, it was because he just couldn't pace
anymore. Nothing in his memory told him that he'd misread her. It hadn't been
his imagination or wishful thinking. She'd wanted him.
Doubts and affirmations chased after each other
throughout the rest of the day. Just when he thought he'd refocused and could
finally get some work done, something would catch his eye and it would start
all over again. It was three o'clock before he realized that he'd missed lunch,
but he wasn't hungry. He forced himself to grab a handful of peanuts from a jar
in his desk, but he barely tasted them. When five o'clock finally arrived, he
bolted from his chair.
“See you tomorrow, Emma.” He ignored the open-mouthed
stare his assistant shot his way as he hurried past her. In all the years
they'd worked together, he'd never left before her and certainly never left on
time. He had a brief moment to consider what she'd read into it before he
decided that he didn't care. He had to see her.
Twenty minutes later, he was still sitting in front
of her apartment building, arguing with himself. He knew which one was hers,
could see the pale yellow curtains she'd hung. He desperately wanted to go up
there, apologize for what he'd done and beg her to forgive him. Or maybe he
wanted to go there to demand she keep the list of promises she so foolishly
made. But he knew that neither option was the smart one. He should just leave
and let nature take its course. Then the curtains twitched aside, and he caught
a glimpse of her pale face and he knew he couldn't just leave. He still didn't
know if he wanted her to forgive him or obey him, but he knew he had to find
out.
Vance took a deep breath and climbed out of his car.
When he buzzed at the door, she didn't respond but let him in. A faint hope
bloomed in his chest. She hadn't told him to fuck off, so there was still a
chance to salvage whatever this could be. He paused at her door, far more
nervous than he'd ever been before. Suddenly, he realized that he didn't know
what to say.
When the door opened, he improvised. “Hi.”

She
nearly passed out when he buzzed to come in. Why in the world had he shown up?
Wasn't it enough that she'd humiliated herself with that email? Did he think he
had to come fire her in person? For a moment, she considered not letting him
in, but she knew that would just make it worse.
When she opened the door, she couldn't quite stop her
heart from skipping a beat. Tousled blue-black hair that looked like he'd spent
all day running his fingers through it. Arctic blue eyes that somehow managed
to be cold and hot at the same time. Tall, lean frame that she knew was far
more defined than his well-fitted suits revealed. She waited for him to speak
first. After the day she'd had, there was no way she was going to initiate the
conversation.

***

In twenty-seven years, Courtney Bell had never been
so thoroughly mortified. When she'd read the attachment she'd emailed to her
boss – the CEO of the company where she was among the lowest on the totem pole
– she'd been so sure she'd be fired the second she walked in the door. When no
one said anything to her, she'd immediately opened her email, expecting
something, anything, from Vance Forster, the flirtatious CEO in question. Maybe
a summons to his office.
Her stomach tightened at the thought of the latter,
and she felt a pleasurable warmth in her belly. A squirming, nervous warmth,
but pleasurable nonetheless. What would he do to her if he called her up? With
a rush of heat to her cheeks, she remembered what she'd written in her
“assignment.” Obedience to whatever Vance told her to do. No panties and only
thigh-high stockings. Spanking with myriad objects. Fucking her.
Oh shit. Hadn't she said something about letting him
fuck her ass if she'd been really bad? And just how bad was “really”?
She'd been drunk. Courtney took a deep breath, slowly
letting it out. He couldn't really hold her to all of that, could he? Courtney
stood suddenly, needing to be alone. Ignoring the puzzled expressions of her
co-workers, she hurried to the restroom.
The water was cool on her fevered skin. She splashed
it again, desperate to dissipate the flush that had appeared. She smoothed down
her ash blond hair. The face that looked at her in the mirror was one she
barely recognized. Her dark gray eyes were wild, her normally pale skin nearly
translucent with the exception of two high spots of color on her cheeks.
She had to call him. She couldn't sit around all day,
just waiting for Vance to do something. She'd go nuts. Decision made, she
returned to her desk and picked up the phone, dialing before she could change
her mind.
“Vance Forster's office.” The professional but
pleasant voice of his assistant came over the line.
“Hi, this is Courtney Bell from Business Development.
May I speak to Mr. Forster please?”
“And what is this in regards to?”
Courtney silently swore. She hadn't thought what
reason to give. Might as well stick with as close to the truth as she could. “I
need to discuss an assignment he gave me yesterday.”
“Mr. Forster's in a meeting right now. I'll have him
call you back when he gets in.”
Courtney hung up the phone feeling even more
frustrated than before. As the minutes passed, her uneasiness grew. Why hadn't
she told the assistant that the matter was urgent? She was dialing before she
realized what she was doing, and then she was stammering her way through a lie
about how this assignment could cost her her job. Which wasn't entirely
untruthful when she thought about it.
When she hung up this time, Courtney found herself
feeling worse rather than better. She tried working, desperate to distract
herself, but every sentence she read turned into something else.
“
I'd like to take you up on that offer to fuck
your ass.”
“
Would you please strip and bend over the desk so
I can spank you.”
“
Your completely inappropriate email shows that
you have no place here at Asgard.”
“You started it,” Courtney muttered, ignoring the
glance the woman in the next cubicle gave her. “Stupid sexy abs.”
“Uh, Courtney?” Ellen Richmond was a sweet,
middle-aged mother of three and, despite their differences in age, was
Courtney's closest friend at the office. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine, Ellen,” Courtney tried to force her tone to be
normal. Based on Ellen's expression, Courtney sounded as strained to her
friend's ears as she did to her own. “How did Tyler do on his math test?”
If there was one way to distract a mother, it was to
ask about her kids. Courtney tried to pay attention, she really did. After all,
she'd been there for Ellen through the past few months as the youngest of her
boys struggled with the multiplication tables. But once Ellen started in on how
Tyler's teacher wanted him to receive 'professional' tutoring, Courtney just
couldn't keep her focus. Vance's words kept ringing in her ears.
“
Maybe all you need is some discipline.”
That one sentence was all it had taken to flip that
switch inside her, the one she never wanted to acknowledge. The one that liked
the way Vance had sounded when he'd told her to stand. The part of her that
longed for that relinquishment of control.
“Courtney, what's going on?” Ellen's hand on
Courtney's arm drew the younger woman back from her thoughts. “And don't say
nothing. I know you too well for that.”
Courtney considered telling Ellen the truth, then
remembered that she could get fired for what she'd written and any mention of
what Vance had done, what she'd allowed him to do, wouldn't end well for either
of them. She settled for a half-truth. “I'm not feeling well.” There was no
need to explain the reason behind the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Excuse me, Ellen. I have a project I need to check in with someone about.”
Courtney turned back towards her desk and reached for the phone.
By the time she placed her fourth call, her
desperation to reach Vance was almost palpable. She hated herself for how she
sounded when talking to his assistant, but her nerves were shot. Every time her
phone rang, an email dinged on her computer, or footsteps came their way, her
heart would stop for a second. Everything she read was from him. Every sound
was his voice, his step. And when it wasn't, a mixture of disappointment and
relief washed over her before it started all over again.
“That's it,” Courtney announced. She hurriedly typed
a note to Vance – to Mr. Forster, she amended. No more torturous waiting. She was
going to decide for herself what would happen next.
After sending it off, she pled out sick and headed
home. She wanted some time to write up her resignation and didn't think she
could handle the good-byes just yet. It wasn't until she closed the door behind
her that the full realization of what she'd done hit her. All of the strength
ran out of her legs, and she slumped to the ground. She clenched her hands
together, twisting her fingers until they hurt, wanting only to still their
trembling.
What had she been thinking? Why hadn't she just
waited for Vance to get out of his meeting? She was pretty sure he couldn't
actually fire her since she could just turn around and accuse him of
harassment. True, he had written evidence while she had nothing physical to
support her story, but the publicity alone could ruin his career.
Right. She just need to get things under control.
Decide what she needed to do next. Once she had a plan, a course of action,
everything would be all right. After all, wasn't that what she always did? Take
care of herself?
Courtney took a shuddering breath and then another,
drawing the air into her lungs until it moved evenly. Only then did she stand.
She could do this. Compared to what she'd already done on her own, this
situation wasn't anything she couldn't handle.
The thought took her back into the past, back through
years of having to be the adult when she shouldn't have needed to be. She never
felt sorry for herself. Too many kids had it so much worse. She'd never been
abused or really neglected. There'd always been more than enough food in their
house, clothes to wear. The only thing that hadn't been there was her parents.
While they were out making their mark on the world, Courtney had been left with
a series of housekeepers and nannies until age twelve when her parents decided
she was old enough to stay on her own. Every decision was hers to make as were
the consequences to bear. Courtney was no psychologist, but she understood
herself well enough to know that this was the root of her authority issues. She
hated other people making decisions for her, telling her what to do.
And yet, she'd always had a fascination with the idea
of someone taking away that control. Not in some domineering or misogynistic
way but because he truly understood that this was what she needed and that she
trusted him implicitly. When Vance had told her to stand, to take off her
jacket, she'd been surprised at how quickly she'd complied, how good it had
felt to not think, to just do. For once in her life, she hadn't spent hours
analyzing, weighing the pros and cons of each option. She'd just obeyed. And
the relief she'd felt had been indescribable. Not to mention the intensity of
the orgasm she'd had from fantasizing about Vance taking things further.
Courtney felt herself grow wet just thinking about
it, desire blooming in her belly even as she tried to push the memory from her
mind. She needed to focus on how she was going to regain control of the
situation. She wasn't entirely sure how she was going to do that, only that she
had to.