The Fantasy (8 page)

Frustrated, he pushed away from the window and turned, gripping his hair in his hands and looking around the room. He’d done this many times before—gotten himself to a state where he was searching for anything he could possibly use to get himself off. And though he knew it was the lowest of the low, his bed called to him.

The large, king-sized mattress took up most of the space, and the computer that sat on the desk against the wall cast a low light over the white sheets. He knew it would be a sure fucking way to relieve the tension that had built inside him, and at this point, sticking his dick between anything that was a tight fit other than his fist seemed like a stellar option.
 

He walked to the bathroom and took a small jar of Vaseline out of the medicine cabinet before heading to the kitchen for a Ziploc bag. As he headed back into his bedroom, he glanced at the computer screen and his cock jumped at the sight of her.
 

He knelt beside his bed and opened the jar, coating a thick layer around his semi-hard erection and sighing with relief as the balm eased his raw skin. Then he placed the plastic bag over his length and raised his mattress up slightly. Positioning his cock at the opening between the two mattresses, he slid in an inch and then let go of his hold on the top layer, letting the weight of it press firmly against him as he pushed farther inside.
 

He gripped the edge of the bed until his knuckles whitened and closed his eyes. The sheer relief from having such a restrictive clasp around his cock was enough to have him back to being fully erect. When he slowly pulled his hips back, the heavy pressure reminded him of times he’d sought this kind of raw fulfillment before.
 

As a boy, he’d discovered that, if he knelt in place and held on to the bed, he could fuck himself into a frenzy and still be hidden should someone walk in the door. As an adult, the activity wasn’t about hiding; it was much more salacious than that. It was about the clawing need in the pit of his stomach that reached down and grabbed his balls, demanding him to fuck whatever he could find to get off.

If that happened to be his mattress, then that was what he’d fucking use.

Pulling his hips back, he slammed them up against the side of the bed, his cock sliding inside the slick Vaseline grip of the bag as he imagined that it was a hot, wet cunt instead.

Fuck, that felt good
.
 

He pushed his hips harder before pulling them away and gradually easing inside, the slow, torturous slide causing him to shiver in anticipation. He stayed there, flush against the bed, as he jerked his hips back and forth in shallow thrusts. The high was rising, and his head fell back, opening himself up to the flood of ecstasy he knew was coming. His eyes glazed over as the pleasure rushed to his head, and he blinked several times, trying to clear it so he could hang on to that high before he passed the fuck out.
 

That’s when he saw her again, beckoning to him from the corner of his eye, and he briefly faltered before picking the pace back up. The image on his computer screen taunted him as he continued pummeling the mattress, his ass cheeks clenching with each piston of his hips.
 

Fuck her
, he thought as he pounded between the tight fit, tearing his eyes away. The orgasm he’d been chasing was slowly fading. Shaking his head, he gripped the sheets until his knuckles hurt.
 

No, no, no.

The rush he’d been feeling only seconds before subsided, and as the ache in his cock was replaced with pain, he groaned.

“Fuck you!” he shouted as he slammed his hips back against the bed. The sting made him wince, but still, he tried again, glaring at her as he cursed out, “Fuck you!”

The smile that had once been inviting now seemed to smirk at him as his hard-on waned. He tried desperately to block her from his head, to get back the high, but it was gone. Fucking gone.

“Goddammit!” he roared, clenching the bedsheets in his hands and ripping them off, the move causing his limp cock to pull out roughly from between the mattresses. He stood up and tore the rest of them off the bed before throwing them across the room, knocking over a lamp so that it all crashed to the floor. “Fuck!”

He was panting as he bent over and placed his hands on the bed, drenched in sweat and shaking from frustration. Clenching his jaw, he stood and stumbled before he moved away from the object of his self-destruction. Then he glanced at the image once more as his back hit the wall of his bedroom and he wondered what the fuck she had done to him.

Never had he been unable to find some kind of fucking satisfaction. Never had he consistently been drawn to one person the way he seemed drawn to her. And as he slid down the wall, dejected and exhausted, he tried to pinpoint the exact reason for his growing obsession.
His usual tricks weren’t working, and he knew that somehow she was the source of his inability to find satisfaction.
 

She was a gorgeous woman, but he’d had gorgeous women.
 

Was it that she was a challenge now after her firm denial of him? Was it because he knew she needed to be off-limits so he could keep his fucking job? Or was he simply trying to trade in one addiction for another?

He rubbed the back of his neck in vexation. The lights from the city seemed to shine on him now like a fucking spotlight as he pulled his knees up to his chest. He kept his eyes on the now achingly familiar face staring back at him and wrapped his arms around his knees, unable to stop the shame that started to trickle inside the cracks of his well-established armor.
 

Where he’d originally craved the eyes of an outsider to heighten his release, the eyes of a still image were now more than he could bear.
 

If he had to watch Reagan’s goddamn pert ass walk out of his office one more time that day, he was going to lose his shit. He shifted uncomfortably in his leather chair, wincing slightly from the shot of pain that ran up from his groin due to last night’s abuse.
 

He glared at the door again. She’d walk back through it in about five minutes. Just like she’d done all damn day, torturing his raw cock every time he had to look at her—a reminder of how fucking desperate she made him.
 

Disgust settled in the pit of his stomach every time he caught a glimpse of her, and it was starting to grate on his last nerve. It was bad enough that he’d had to put on the show of a fucking lifetime today, walking around the office as if he were perfectly fine. But to see her looking as polished and professional as always made him want to put his fist through a wall.

Thinking that that wasn’t the best idea, he decided it was time for him to make a quick exit. If he could pack his shit up and get to the door before she spotted him, maybe this day could end without—

Reagan pushed open the door without knocking and walked inside, her eyes still looking down at an open folder in her arms. “Hey, I was thinking that we could order some takeout or something since it looks like it’ll be a late night.” When he didn’t immediately respond, she looked up. “What?”

Evan just shook his head and bent down to grab his briefcase, laying it on the desk and piling the work he needed to take home inside it.
 

She raised her brow. “Going somewhere?”

“I don’t think late-night dinner dates at the office are a good idea, do you?”

“No, not usually on Tuesdays, but how about we make an exception just this once?” She gave him a cheeky grin.
 

“I don’t think so.”

“Evan,” she said, walking to stand directly in front of his desk.
 

The top of her thighs pressed into the edge of it, and the first thought that went through his mind was that she was at the perfect angle to bend her over and take her from—

“Evan,” she said again, louder this time, causing him to tear his eyes away from the blue, figure-hugging skirt that encased her shapely legs and back up to her eyes. “Deadline. Work. Dinner. The end. What’s the problem?”

Evan shut the briefcase with a resounding click and picked it up off the desk with a little more force than necessary. Then he walked around to where she stood and dared to step in a little closer than one should with their boss
.

“The problem is that it’s after hours and you’re here and so am I with all these flat surfaces. Do you think I’ve forgotten what’s under those prim and proper outfits you wear?”

For the first time since the day she’d interviewed him, he thought he caught a flash of attraction in her eyes as she shifted so they were now eye to eye.

“I’d hardly call an evening pouring over numbers and graphs and eating Kung Pao chicken a date, but—”

“I’d call it a tease,” he said, cutting her off. “It’s like waving a red flag in front of me and daring me not to charge.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t move away, still standing so close to him that he could feel her breath quicken. He wondered what she’d do if he touched her now. If he said exactly what he was thinking.
Fuck it.
 

“Maybe that’s what you want,” he said, his voice low and seductive like a vampire compelling its prey. She wasn’t moving, so he took that as a sign to continue. “Maybe you like the idea of me hiking that tight-as-fuck skirt up your legs, bending you over my desk, and shoving inside of you”—he paused and leaned a little closer—“just as I’ve been imagining all day.”

The tip of her tongue licked her bottom lip, and there was no way in hell he wasn’t going to let her know he noticed that. He wanted to see just how far he could push her...
 

“Or perhaps you’d rather a more familiar position: you on your knees with my cock in that flirtatious mouth of yours?”

“Evan—” she tried to interject, but her breath caught as he raised a brow.

“Deny it. Go on. I dare you.”

While she stared at him, her white teeth bit into her cherry lip as she stood there, not saying a word.

“That’s
exactly
why I won’t stay,” he said, letting his gaze drift down her body before he walked out the door, leaving her there speechless and watching after him.
 

***

Evan rapped on the door to Reagan’s office and waited for her to respond. It’d been a couple of days since their confrontation, and he’d noticed she’d been giving him a wider berth than usual. That was fine by him since he’d developed an unhealthy obsession with zooming in on the woman every time she was within eyesight, and he was not proud of the fact. So if she wanted to keep her distance, then she was doing him a favor in a way. Although his cock did not agree.

“Come in,” she called from behind the closed door.
 

After pushing it open, he made his way inside with the information she’d requested. “
You were right about Stein,” he told her. “If they’re willing to drop the price point on their major products, then it will likely increase their sales.” Stopping behind one of the chairs opposite her desk, he frowned at her. “The hard part will be making them see it that way.
”

Reagan leaned back in her chair and clasped her hands together. She contemplated his words for a moment and then gave an arrogant smile as she shrugged. “I don’t have to make them see it. I’ll just tell them the numbers and show the statistics and they’ll have no better option
but
to lower their prices. Win-win if you ask me.”

He gave a slight nod and turned to leave, but her voice stopped him.
 

“Wait just a second. Have a seat.”

Looking over his shoulder at her, he tried to gauge what the change in her tone signaled.
 

She cocked her head. “Please?”

Reluctantly, Evan turned, made his way to one of the seats opposite her, and sat. Then rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers in front of him as he waited for her to talk.
 

She crossed one leg over the other, but he refused to allow himself to look. He didn’t know if she was playing with him or if this was just her, but every little thing she did provoked him. Even the pen she was rolling back and forth between her fingers brought to mind her hands on him.

“Evan,” she said. “I wanted to take a minute and ask how you’re settling in.”

He hadn’t expected that to be the direction she’d take, but as he sat up straight and lowered his hands, he saw her eyes flick down to where they rested on his thighs before coming back to his own.

“So far so good, I think.” He stopped for a moment and then dared to ask, “As my boss, how would you rate my performance thus far? That, after all, is what counts, isn’t it? That you’re satisfied?”

He watched as the pen she’d been twirling between her fingers made its way to her mouth. She bit the end of the pen cap as she appraised him.
 

“I’d say I have no complaints,” she said, a slow smile crossing her face.
 

Evan frowned. “That’s not very good feedback, Ms. Spencer.”