Chapter 4

Eva put her handbag and keys on the table in the hall and kicked off her pumps. She padded to her room and peeled off the office. She hung up her suit and laid out her clothes for tomorrow.

She took a hot shower and changed into her comfy cotton sweatpants before she headed to the living room. In all, she had a productive day. She made good progress on the birthday database, and she fielded ten phone calls while Matt was at the gym and taking his walk. No wonder he wanted someone to take over.

She collected the folders from her zippered case and flipped through the building permit application. Nothing out of the ordinary there. The workers’ apartment building was nothing special, either, except that the company building the factory designed it for their workers.

The day care center, on the other hand, was something special. The design reminded her of a spa or retreat center. Natural light and materials made it soft and inviting. The sleeping area for the younger children surrounded them with comfort and relaxation. Bright colors and plants decorated the play area, and all the toys were natural materials, too. Everything in the place was designed to enhance their comfort and development.

The recreation area for the older children contained science equipment, art supplies, building blocks and Legos, even a model train set running on an electric track around the walls. Eva wished she could go there after work. The children of the factory workers were lucky indeed.

Her phone twinkled. Just for an instant, her heart skipped a beat when she saw the notification: Riproarer. Then her heart sank. What did he want?

She couldn’t start up that RipRoarer stuff again. She left it all in the past. She could get on board with the company, but she couldn’t have a text relationship with her boss.

My Eve.

How are you?

Missing you.

I’ve only been home fifteen minutes. You’ll see me again tomorrow.

I miss my Eve, not my assistant.

Yeah, I miss you, too.

I watched the video. You look amazing bent over my bike.

Stop it. Don’t do this.

Why not? Didn’t you like it?

You’re my boss now. We can’t do this anymore.

Why can’t we? We’re both consenting adults. Neither of us is touching the other.

You touched me this morning. Was it really only this morning that he drove away with her? It seemed like years.

I wasn’t your boss then. I don’t want to lose what we have.

Neither do I.

I couldn’t tell you as your boss, but I feel the same way about Eve that you do about RipRoarer. This isn’t just a good time for me. I look forward to chatting with you at the end of the day. I look forward to your pics and your videos. You turn me on so much.

Why did you have to lie to me?

I didn’t lie to you.

You bastard. Don’t text me again.

If you really feel that way, I won’t, but I don’t think you really feel that way. You want to keep talking to me and I want to keep talking to you, so let’s keep doing it. No one has to know. I’ll be your boss during the day, but we’ll still have this to come back to.

She didn’t answer for a while. He was right, damn him. She wanted this more than anything. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but he turned her on in person more than by text.

The secret she cherished about his real identity burned in her heart. She kept his secret like a superhero’s wife. No one knew his secret, the secret that could destroy him. She carried his life in her hands.

What would it be like, to go to work every day with this secret haunting her every waking hour? What would it be like, to look at him across the desk and know it was him, her boss, who made her pussy tingle with unrequited lust? What would it be like to scream into her phone in orgasmic ecstasy, and know he would remember that screaming during business meetings and conferences?

He would sit next to her and dictate his notes, and he would know, as no one else in the world knew, how much he turned her on. She would be his assistant, and no one in the company would know what kind of relationship they had on the side.

Okay, I won’t text you anymore. See you later. Keep well.

Her hand hovered above the screen. She couldn’t let it end like this. She couldn’t let it go. It meant too much to her. All right. I guess we can continue with it the way it is.

I’m glad you feel that way. I loved seeing you this morning.

Which part? In your office or on your bike?

Both. I loved seeing you in my office and thinking about you on my bike. I loved having you both ways.

It is a very nice bike. Very sexy.

Did it turn you on?

Yes. Very much.

Did you like bending over like that?

Yes. You know I did.

Talk dirty to me, baby.

Daddy, fuck your little Princess. Fuck me with your hard cock.

You want it bad, don’t you, baby?

You know I’d spread my legs for you anytime, Daddy.

You horny little slut. You’re a bad girl. I always knew you were bad to the core. I’m gonna bend you over my knee and smack your sweet hot ass.

Yeah, Daddy. Bad girl needs her punishment.

Are you a filthy slut, baby? Don’t make Daddy take off his belt.

Oh, no, Daddy. Not the belt.

Yes, baby. You need it bad. I’m gonna make you scream.

Oh, please, no. Don’t hurt me, Daddy. I swear I’ll be good.

Oh, you fucking little Princess. You’re Daddy’s little piece of ass, aren’t you? Is your pussy wet right now?

Yes. Daddy makes me so wet with his dirty talk.

Send me a pic, baby. Send me a vid of you fingering your horny little cunt. I want to see and hear how wet you are.

Her heart leaped at the chance to show herself to him. Everything culminated in this moment. He made her so raging horny this morning. Then the crushing hurt of losing him, followed by the soaring thrill of getting him back, left her breathless.

She set her phone to video mode and raised her shirt above her breasts. She hitched up her bra so her tits stuck out. The nipples stood erect, and she squeezed them forward with her arms on both sides.

She slid her sweat pants down, along with her panties. She spread her legs for the camera, and her wet lips glistened. She dabbed her fingers into her steaming hole and moaned. She worked her fingers around her clit and beat herself to a screaming frenzy. Send.

He didn’t answer right away. Oh, my God, baby. That is one of the best ones yet.

Thinking of you. She slid her clothes on and settled back on the couch. This was the stuff summer evenings were made for.

He didn’t respond for a while. She got up and started making dinner when he texted back. I just had a raging cum over that video. You totally blow me away.

She stirred her spaghetti sauce and sucked the spoon clean. Glad you liked it.

Was it good for you?

Sure.

He took even longer to respond this time. Why was she giving one-word answers? She drained the noodles and set the table for one. So how do you feel now?

She put the food on the table and sat down with her phone next to her plate. She liked talking to him during meals. He kept her company. I’m a little sad since you ask.

What are you sad about?

I used to fantasize about meeting you, riding off somewhere on your Harley, and you fucking me senseless. That will never happen now.

I’m sorry, baby.

Stop saying that. I can’t stand when you say that.

Okay, I’m not sorry.

I know you’re not. You did this on purpose.

Maybe I did it on purpose so we could come to something better than texting and internet sex chat.

Something better like what?

I don’t know. Something better like fucking in person where we both know everything there is to know about the other person.

You’re talking about a relationship. That won’t happen now, either.

Why won’t it?

Because you’re my boss. That’s why.

Well, I’m not giving up on it just yet. Maybe there’s a way we can have our cake and eat it, too.

I’m having my spaghetti and eating it, too.

Is it good?

Yep. Lots of garlic just the way I like it.

Don’t forget your mints tomorrow morning.

I’m just joking, honey. I can’t stand garlic.

LOL. I gotta go now. I’ll see you in the morning.

Aww.

Kisses and hugs. Sleep tight.

She turned her phone off and slid it onto the counter behind her so she wouldn’t see it. She still couldn’t reconcile RipRoarer, her fantasy man, with her boss. In her mind, RipRoarer was bigger, rougher, louder, more muscled. Her boss was more refined, though maybe not any smaller.

Why couldn’t she see them as one and the same man? They talked the same, though not about the same subjects. Her boss’s voice had a different timber than the voice she heard on his videos and on the phone the few times she let him call her and talk to her while she got herself off. Maybe it was because she hadn’t seen his tats. He kept his shirt on at the office.

After dinner, she curled up on the couch again, but she put her phone on the charger in her bedroom. It wouldn’t keep her company tonight. Instead, she studied the project folders from the office. She went over the birthday lists and highlighted everyone in August. She was right about one thing. No one’s birthday came before her own. She would be the first employee to receive Matt’s acknowledgment, and she hadn’t done anything yet.

She fell into a reverie thinking about the company—and him. What would it be like to unbutton his crisp dress shirt and find that chest underneath, that sexy, inked-up chest that made her mouth water? What would it be like to slide that cool Indian cotton aside to reveal the rounded pecs, the tribal patterns stitched across his abs and around the distinctive angles of his sides?

What would it be like to kiss those patterns, to lick them and bite them and suck them? What would it be like to leave a trail of her saliva from his thick neck all the way down to the trail of black hair leading from his navel to the secret nest between his legs?

She leaned back on the couch and tossed the folder on the coffee table. She let her mind drift, and her hands explore her body. Thinking about him—her boss, not RipRoarer—turned her on all over again. He made her cunt ache and her juices flow like never before. She wanted him. She wanted Matt, her boss.

She closed her eyes and let her hands range over the same territory he covered in that alley, only this time, it was Matt touching her, not some mystery biker. He bent her over his desk with his big flat hand on her back. He hitched up her skirt and took a video of her begging him to fuck her.

God, he made her so hot! She straddled him on his office couch and dug her fingernails into his chest to pump herself against his rock hard prick. She got on her hands and knees and backed up to him to take his dripping shaft to its limit. She did whatever he told her to, and she loved it.

When she touched herself like this, when she imagined what he would do to his choice little assistant, she could appreciate him for what he was. He was everything RipRoarer was and so much more. She respected Matt in a way she never respected RipRoarer. Matt offered her a way to contribute, to develop, to be part of something larger. Maybe that’s what he meant. Maybe that’s why he did what he did.

Just one minor detail failed to reconcile in her new estimation of him. She couldn’t reconcile Matt, her boss, with the wicked Daddy who wanted to punish her for her sinful thoughts and deeds. She couldn’t imagine him dominating her like that or taking his belt to her.

On second thought, he did have a very nice black leather belt. Maybe that’s why he wore it, to keep it handy in case he needed it. Or maybe it turned him on to walk around in public, in his own multi-billion dollar company building, with his favorite sex tool wrapped around his waist. He announced his domination to the world, and no one ever got wise to it.