Be a Good Girl

3. Alice

3

ALICE

I can barely keep it together during our Hong Kong conference call the next day. It has nothing to do with the fact that it’s at 5 a.m. I’ve had plenty of early calls before. It has to do with Damien, that son of a bitch.

Why did I even go out with him last night? I said I wouldn’t. But when I went home and got into my sweats, I couldn’t even focus on anything. I tried watching TV, but I couldn’t get images of Damien out of my mind.

His face. His eyes. That wolf-like stare…

The way he entered my office like it belonged to him, the way he circled my desk and moved in like he was going to kiss me. How I was going to let him…

It was all too much to handle.

I was dripping with so much excitement, I’d never been so turned on in my life. I took my waterproof vibrator into the shower and came twice thinking about that severe, predatory face. Then, panting like I’d run a marathon, I did my hair and makeup, put on one of my best dresses, and went to La Bernadin to meet him.

And all that did was raise more questions.

How did he have the balls to show up late on me? How did a bike courier pay for two at a three-star Michelin restaurant? And how could he just walk out on me at the end like that leaving me feeling abandoned, hollow, and discarded, like a piece of trash?

I should be furious. I should never want to see him again.

Yet somehow, just thinking about last night has me all hot and bothered right in the middle of a very important meeting regarding the opening of a new branch office in Hong Kong.

I’m surrounded by men of status who should be just my type, but I’m fantasizing about a younger bike courier who has me feeling flush between the thighs and dripping moisture into an ever-expanding wet spot in my panties.

I’m relieved when the meeting ends and I’m able to escape into my office and shut the door. I’m so hot I’m starting to sweat, so I slip out of my blazer, toss it over my chair, and go to my mini-fridge for a water, which is somehow empty. I buzz Joan and ask her to bring me one, then slump down in my chair and gaze out at the sun rising over the city skyline.

Moments later, the door open. “You can leave it on my desk, thank you, Joan.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I put you on your desk?”

Damien’s voice rocks me to my feet, and I spin around to see him standing right where he shouldn’t be: in my office, a water bottle in one hand.

If my body was hot a moment ago, it’s nothing compared to how I feel now. I’m having some primordial reaction to his presence. And why wouldn’t I? He’s beyond gorgeous. But it’s not just that. It’s how he acts around me–like he’s my boss and I answer to him. That’s just not something I’m used to. And it’s turning me on.

“What the hell are you doing here!?” I bark as I stride toward him. I reach out to grab the water, but he moves it just enough that I end up snatching thin air. I glare at him as he grins back at me. I repeat the gesture, but again, he moves the bottle as though we’re playing a game of keep-away. “Are you kidding me?”

He laughs and gently hands the bottle out to me as though he’s doing me a favor. I simply stare back, keeping my hands where they are, not willing to humiliate myself again. But Damien gives me a knowing glance.

“Take it.”

I pause but then reach out quickly and snatch the bottle from him. This time, he allows it. I twist the top off and take a deep gulp in an attempt to cool myself down. It doesn’t work. I was turned on already, and having Damien here has only amplified that problem. Aroused at the office? This can’t happen!

“Get out!” I snap, pointing at the door.

“Alice,” Damien chuckles. “We both know you don’t mean that.”

The spark inside me is pulsing at a billion watts and causing waves of horniness to sizzle throughout my entire body as my heart begins to pump faster and faster, hotter and hotter inside my chest.

“Don’t talk to me like that!” I want to scream at him, but then the whole office would hear. “You humiliated me last night! You were late, you walked out on me, and now you show up here at my office without an invitation? Without a package?”

Damien smirks and tilts his eyes down, indicating an obviously large bulge between his legs. I have to force myself to look away as I feel the heat between my legs pulsate and grow. “Well, I do have a package of my own, Alice…”

I turn back and glare into his gorgeous green eyes. “You did not seriously just say that.”

He laughs and moves closer. Like yesterday, I feel myself instantly freeze in place. What is this power this man has over me?

“Come on, Alice, it’s a joke,” he says. “And stop pretending like you didn’t have a good time last night. We both know you did.”

His sex appeal is like a drug. I’m blushing so hard it hurts, and my panties are soaked with arousal. I squeeze my thighs together but it’s not enough. I’m going to need some napkins to dry myself before he notices.

“Stop!” I snap. “Stop talking to me like that!”

The slight smile will simply not vanish from Damien’s lips. “Like what, Alice?”

“Like you know me!” My heart is racing, and I’m panting like an overly-excited puppy. “You don’t know who I am–what I want…”

Damien cocks his head to the side, stepping even closer. “That’s where you’re wrong, Alice.” He reaches out and takes my hand between his. The sensation of his rough skin and calluses enhances the sensuality that swirls around him like a vortex, just ready to swallow me up. “I know just what you want.”

My voice comes out in a stammering whisper. “Sh-shut up…”

“I really do.”

“Yeah?” I look up at him. I suddenly realize just how much taller than me he is. “Wh-what do I want then?”

I feel Damien circling my palm with his thumb–a technique that sends goosebumps up both of my arms. What else he can do with his hands? I wonder, as my eyes are drawn up his forearms, so muscular, so vascular. I’m panting quick and fast, but Damien’s chest rises up and down so slowly that I can barely tell he’s breathing at all.

“You’re sick of being in charge, Alice,” he says, so sure of himself as he strokes my hand. “So tired of bossing men around. Tired of the men in your personal life not being capable of giving you what you need. You want more.”

His words penetrate me deeply, straight into the core of my being. I look up at him with a pleading desperation in my eyes that I know he can see.

Please go on. Tell me more.

“You want a man who can tell you what to do. Take control so that you don’t have to be the one in charge.”

Confusion, embarrassment, and arousal hit me all at once like a star going supernova. I suck in a deep breath and open my mouth to speak, but Damien silences me with a finger over my lips.

“It’s okay, Alice. You don’t have to say anything. Just prepare yourself for me tonight when I show up to your apartment.”

And like last night at the restaurant, he turns to go, as if the world somehow revolves around him the way the solar system revolves around our sun. As he grasps the doorknob, I finally find the ability to speak again.

“You don’t know where I live!”

Damien turns back with that same charming smile that makes me feel so small and so aroused at the same time. “Alice. I’m a courier. We don’t only deliver to your office. Remember?”

This is even worse than last night. Last night I was waiting at La Bernadin for Damien, who was late, but at least then I could say I was there on business if anyone asked. This time, I’ve showered, done my hair and makeup, have on a gorgeous red dress (one of my favorites), and even matching lingerie beneath. And now, here I am, sitting in my penthouse, listening to jazz, just waiting on an arrogant, presumptuous, overly aggressive bike courier to show up because he said he was going to.

What am I even thinking?

It’s 9:45 and I have been ready since 8. Damien never said when he was going to show up, but by now I’m pretty sure he’s not coming. I feel…betrayed, which seems completely irrational, considering the lack of relationship I have with the man.

Why should I even care? All that’s happened between us is he showed up late once for a “date” and barged into my office twice completely uninvited. Betrayal is hardly what I should be feeling right now. Although I truly do wish I had his number in my phone so I could block it.

“Whatever.” I get up from the chaise where I’ve been sitting and head for the bedroom to undress and catch up on some sleep. But just as I pass the door, a loud knock nearly causes me to jump out of my heels.

After a deep breath, I call out, “Who is it?”

“Timothy Chalamet!” Damien replies from outside. “Now open up!”

My door has a buzzer and a door man. There should be no way he got up here on his own. There also should be no way that I want to let him into my penthouse at this point either, but the next thing I know, I’m walking over to the door and unlocking it.

Damien is standing there in navy blue pants, a matching blazer, and a white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone. He also has a pair of suede loafers on that look great on him. I’m furious at him, but I also can’t deny just how incredible he looks.

“How’d you get up here?” I demand.

He makes no effort to hide it as he drags his eyes up my body, from my feet to my hips, pausing on my breasts, then my lips, then finally landing on my eyes.

Damien smiles and holds out a package I somehow hadn’t even noticed. “Showed him my credentials. Told him I had an important delivery for Miss Dupont that must be delivered immediately.”

With a quick tear, Damien opens the package, reaches in, and pulls out a bottle of red wine. Before I can even respond, he brushes past me and heads for the kitchen.

“H-hey!” I call out, shutting the door and rushing after him.

“Where do you keep your glasses?” he asks, but he’s already found them. He removes one and sets it on the counter, and in the same amount of time, finds the corkscrew. I watch as he pours himself a glass and takes a sip, keeping his eyes on me the entire time.

“Well?” I ask.

“Yes?”

“Where’s my glass?”

Damien smiles. “Oh, you’ll get one. If.”

“If?”

“That’s right.” He nods, coming around the counter toward me. I feel myself beginning to tense up again. “If you’re a good girl and do exactly as you’re told.”

I gasp as something happens that I can’t quite explain. It’s like a spell has been cast on me, and although part of me wants to resist and lecture this man on my credentials and tell him why he has no business speaking to me that way, the rest of me feels as though I’ve fallen into the warm embrace of a golden hammock.

I hold his sparkling green eyes with mine for the longest, most mesmerizing moment of my life, then finally find the ability to speak again.

“Fine.”

“Good,” he replies, stretching his arm out with a powerful gesture. “Now take off your dress.”

I feel a tinge of sadness in my stomach; he didn’t even comment on how nice it looks. But I don’t put up a fuss. I do as I’m told. I want to be a good girl for Damien. I’m desperate to.

I reach behind and unzip the back and slowly let the dress fall, revealing my lingerie underneath. I’ve never been so aware of my own body, especially when Damien scours me with his eyes, drinking in every inch of me with his gaze.

“Lingerie,” he remarks with approval, stepping closer to me the way a lion moves in on its prey. “Turns out the big female CEO is just a sexy little slut expecting to get laid.”

“This lingerie,” I reply, pursing my lips as my body swells with heat. My panties are soaked and my nipples are so hard they’re starting to hurt. “Costs more than the average rent in New York Ci–”

“Dance for me,” he interrupts.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he replies, tossing his blazer aside, revealing more of his physique: the broad shoulders, the long, muscular arms, the sculpted chest–some of it visible through the gap at the top of his shirt. “Dance for me. Pretend you’re no longer Alice Dupont the Forbes Top 10 Businesswoman; you’re Alice Dupont the stripper who needs to impress her client so she can pay this month’s utilities.”

I feel my face go flush. Just the thought of doing what he’s asking of me has me dying of embarrassment.

“I can’t dance…”

Damien runs his tongue across his lower lip. “Alice, with that body, you don’t need to know how to dance. Just move your body to the music. And stop arguing. Do as you’re told.”

I’m in shock. No man has ever been this firm with me before. I’m beyond nervous as I watch him sit on one of my stools as I begin to move my hips, but I’m also reveling in his attention. His eyes are focused on me and only me, and I’m ablaze with excitement that’s overpowering my self-consciousness.

Damien sips his wine, reaches down and unbuttons his pants, then slides down the zipper on his fly, revealing a massive bulge in his briefs, signaling his own arousal for me.

“You’re enjoying this,” he tells me. God, he’s so confident. “Your panties are wet.”

My cheeks are on fire as he rises to his feet and moves toward me. Flashbacks of what happened at my office invade my mind as he circles me. I continue to move–somehow managing to not freeze this time.

“You are a little sexpot,” he whispers as he passes my ear, sending a shiver down my spine to my toes. He brings his mouth so close to mine that I’m absolutely sure he’s going to kiss me this time, and yet again he doesn’t.

Like a balloon, I deflate while yet my desire for him rises. I want to stop dancing and scream at him to stop teasing me and touch me.

But I don’t. I must be a good girl so I can be rewarded. That’s what he wants. So I keep moving as looks me up and down, a man checking out a sports car before he buys it.

“That’s good, Alice.” His praise fills me with joy in a way I can’t describe. “You may have your glass of wine now.”

With his strong, callused hand, he leads me to the counter and fills a glass halfway for me. I’ve been making progress at work for months now on this Hong Kong deal, and yet not one of those steps forward has made me feel as good as I feel now having just earned Damien’s approval.

“Cheers.” He smiles.

“Cheers.”

We clink glasses, and I take a sip of some of the best wine I’ve ever tasted. Damien’s erection is obvious, but so far, he’s playing it cool, like he has total control over his sexual urges. It seems to be only me that’s desperately craving more.

“You know, Alice,” he says, “I brought something else with me.”

“Oh?” There’s more? How could there possibly be more to this evening?

Again, with that knowing smile on his lips, Damien reaches back into his package and removes something. And if I didn’t see it with my own two eyes, I would never believe it: A black leather collar with a steel ring. Along with it, there’s a black leather leash.

He holds it out to me. “Put it on.”

A whirlwind of emotions whips me around with such force that I simply do not know what to do with myself. The sight of the leather in his hands does something to me that I can’t explain.

My body is only growing hotter with every second that passes, and I can feel that my panties are simply soaked now, as are the insides of my thighs, and I know Damien can see it too.

The thought of putting that collar on for him though…I simply don’t know how to process it, so I react the only way I know how.

“No!” I snap. “I’m not putting that on, are you joking!?”

I snatch both items from him and hurl them across the room, expecting a reaction from Damien. But to my surprise, he simply walks over to the collar and leash, picks them both up, places them back in his package, and walks to the door–but not before zipping up his pants.

I’m absolutely primed to be taken by him now. My entire body is quivering as I stand there in my lingerie and watch him as he stops, his hand on the doorknob. He looks back over his shoulder at me, not even allowing me to see his entire face as he speaks.

“You know, Alice. I thought there was more woman to you than CEO.” He sighs, genuinely seeming disappointed. “But I guess I was wrong.”

And with that, he lets himself out. And I’m not even able to say anything. I simply stand there, feeling as though I’ve failed miserably.

What have I done?