Sitting back in my chair, I waited for a few minutes and wasn’t disappointed when I saw Jennifer perk up at her post behind the desk. John stepped into view with his casual, lazy gait that was sexy as hell. He spoke to her for a moment and when she turned away, he tapped his fingers on the top of the desk before turning and locking eyes with me. It was like he knew I’d be there, waiting for him, watching him.
One side of his delicious mouth tilted upward, but Jennifer returned and he turned back to face her.
For the first time all day, I felt the nagging thoughts swelling up and taking over, pushing at me. I needed to slip my hand between my legs. I had to. The longer I fought to deny it, the harder it was to breath.
As he continued to talk to Jennifer, I eased a hand up under my dress. Pushing my panties aside, I sank two fingers into my wet pussy. Angrily, I jabbed them in and out, lowering my eyes from John and Jennifer. I didn’t want to be doing it, but ignoring the thoughts and craving was nearly impossible. The faster I got off, the quicker I could move on. Roughly, I pinched my clit, biting down on my bottom lip to keep from shouting out at the pain that radiated from it, but the sweet, hot, burn that followed had me thrusting my hips against my hand. The welts on my ass and back, pressed harder against the chair, adding a new and delicious sensation to my forbidden play.
Just as I had nearly reached an orgasm, I glanced up and nearly fell out of my chair when I found John standing just feet from my window that looked over the lobby. His arms were crossed over his chest and an extremely pissed-off look flowed over his handsome face.
My hand pulled from my body and I wiggled my skirt down from where it had risen in my rush to ecstasy. My face flamed red as I tried to ignore the incredibly embarrassing situation. I’d been caught, no doubt about it. It was only a matter of time, I’d known that. Hell, I’d been fired before for masturbating at work and having sex at work, but that was before. I didn’t want to admit that my addiction was back to the same level it had been. It was too late; he would most likely tell management and I’d be without a job again.
Fighting back the tears and guilt, I grabbed my purse from the bottom drawer and quickly locked my door before fleeing out the employee entrance. I would have to walk all the way around the building to get to where I parked, but I didn’t have to face John or anyone else he might be sharing what he’d seen with.
Opening the driver door, I plopped down in the seat only to cry out from the pain that lashed through the welts on my ass. I was so stupid. How could I not have spotted it before? Not admitted how bad I’d gotten. Driving recklessly, I sped home as tears ran down my face. Sinking against the locked door, I finally let it all out. Screaming and crying, I slapped at my thighs angrily. It was my fault. My fault. No one to blame but myself.
I slapped and punched my thighs until I was too tired to carry on, but the tears continued to roll down my cheeks as I sobbed. Memories from the past came rushing out of the box that I’d locked them away in.
The cold, ruthless hand wrapped around my throat, his vile stench suffocating me while the weight of his body on mine made it hard to draw in a breath at all.
Shaking, I drew my knees to my chest and dropped my head down as I cried for an entirely different reason than only moments before. My heart felt like it was going to claw its way out of my chest while my lungs burned for a good, deep breath. It’d been over three years since the last time the memories had surfaced — since they’d last held me paralyzed in their grip.
My phone beeped in my purse next to me, but I couldn’t force my hand to grab it.
Time passed while I sat there; my butt had gone numb long ago. Nothing was more important than sitting there, arms wrapped around my knees, comforting — protecting— myself. Numerous times, my phone beeped, but my hands and arms refused to move to get it. As I slowly managed to push the terrifying memories back into their locked box, my heart slowed, my breathing returned to normal and I regained the use and control of my body.
Tugging my purse to my lap, I slid my legs out and leaned my head against the door as I blindly dug around for my phone. Of course, it was at the bottom under everything else in there. I had numerous messages along with a missed call, but no voicemails. Swiping across the screen, I found that all of them had been from Master J. Without reading any of the texts he’d sent me, I sent one of my own.
Can you meet tonight?
I knew it was late, but before I could put my phone down I had a return message.
Just tell me when.
I can be there in 15.
I’ll be there.
Making a quick stop in the bathroom, I wiped the makeup from my face and pulled my tangled hair into a ponytail before heading to the club. There was no one waiting out front or inside the door. I left my purse on the counter. If someone wanted to steal it, let them. I didn’t care. There was no one around that I saw. It had to be near midnight though so I wasn't too surprised, when I broke down it took hours for me to recover. I went to the same room I'd been left at during previous visits. Opening the door, I was surprised to find the door to the inner room open. He was waiting for me. I could feel it in the air. Indecision filled me — was I still supposed to strip or go straight in since the door was open?
"Come in and kneel. Now." Master J's voice came from the room.
Averting my eyes, I walked straight to my spot and lowered myself down to my knees.
"This is an unexpected surprise. What made you want to meet tonight?" His shiny shoes stepped into my view, standing shoulder width apart.
"Nothing, sir." I swallowed hard. I didn't want to open that part of myself to him — to anyone, ever. Some secrets are better off never shared.
"Don't lie to me, girl. You don't tell me you want to meet right away if there isn't something going on." Those shoes stepped out of my view and I strained to hear where he was going.
"I just needed the escape you gave me last time. Sub space or whatever you called it. I need it, sir." I didn't know what else to do. When his name had popped up on my phone, it was my gut reaction. Obviously I didn't think it through because he was asking questions I didn't want to answer. I should've just waited a day or two before setting up another meeting.
"What are you running from?" His palm smoothed over my head as he stepped behind me. "Don't say ‘nothing’ or I'll walk out right now."
"The past, sir." I shivered as tears filled my eyes. I didn't want to talk about it. I wanted to escape it. That was why I was with him.
"What about today made your past come up?" he asked before gently pulling the tie out of my hair.
"Sir, I don't want to talk about it. I just want to forget." I lifted a hand to wipe away the tear that escaped even though I was fighting to keep them back. I didn’t want to relive the embarrassment, the humiliation that came with the thoughts of the past. How undesirable I felt. The pain that had been pounded into me repeatedly by my rapist. The rapists that no one believed me about.
"Oh, Precious. I'll help you forget. If you tell me what I'm asking." His long fingers ran through my hair, delicately untangling it.
"I got caught masturbating at work by someone. That person will most likely tell my boss and I’ll lose my job," I sputtered out trying not to focus on it. It was the easiest, least painful answer.
"So you are upset that you might lose your job? Or that someone saw you doing something you knew you shouldn't have been doing at work? Or do you not care that you were risking your job for pleasure that you should've been getting from me?" His voice lowered an octave, letting me know he wasn't happy with me.
"I hadn't been thinking at all, sir. Not about you or my job. It's an impulse thing. A compulsion." I dropped my chin to my chest in utter humiliation.