THE PUBLICIST

PENELOPE

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I stared at the subject lines of my most recent emails, unsure of whether to laugh or sigh.

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Subject: Never thought I’d see the day when “Ryan Dalton” was likeable. Good job!

Subject: Congratulations on making Mr. Impossible possible!

Subject: What type of drugs did you slip into his system?

Subject: Are you fucking him? (People are wondering if that’s your secret, but you can trust me with the truth. Are you?)

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Over the past thirty days, Ryan had tested everything I thought I knew about being a publicist. He was definitely stubborn, beyond arrogant, but he had a soft side that reared its head occasionally. A soft side that did nothing to ease the sexual tension between us.

He was now up fifty to thirty in our game of “Who Can Drive the Other Person Insane the Best,” but he made it his personal mission to drive me home at the end of every day. We went at each other’s throats during our morning strategy meetings (He still had problems refraining from saying the word ‘fucking’ in mock interviews), but he insisted on treating me to lunch every afternoon. And even on nights like tonight, when he was refusing to work on the “atonement interview,” he volunteered to pick up some dinner for us in the meantime.

It was moments like those that should’ve made me feel guilty about using him as a muse for all my late-night fantasies, when I often fell asleep with my fingers buried deep in my pussy. I should’ve been ashamed of picturing him fucking me in the middle of our mock interview sessions instead of giving him my complete attention. I was a complete and utter fraud by purposely buying real lingerie and wearing it under my dresses, hoping he would notice.

I stood up from the boardroom table and looked outside the window. There were only sixty days left in my contract and I was honestly wondering if the two of us could possibly be friends after it was all over.

Or at least have sex again ...

The sound of my phone ringing interrupted my thoughts and I looked at the screen. Sean.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hello, Penelope.” There was a smile in his voice. “This is Penelope Lauren, my supposed best friend, right?”

“It is.” I laughed. “I’m sorry I haven’t been returning so many of your calls and messages. “What’s going on?”

“Not much. The stock market has been kicking my ass, I’m still waiting on you to volunteer to buy me a Tesla, and Sarah and me had sex the other day. We’ll probably continue doing that with each other for awhile and um ... Yeah, that’s about it. Nothing new.”

“Did you just say that you and Sarah had sex? Is this another Sarah or my germaphobe roommate Sarah?”

“The second one.”

“What!” My mind was blown. “How?”

“What do you mean how?” He laughed. “There’s only one way to have sex. I was actually waiting for you to come home, but that was before you told me you were spending the night in your office. Anyway, she sat next to me while I was watching a marathon, and it kind of just happened. Okay, granted, she did get some weird, plastic paper for us to fuck on top of before we could go any further, but other than that, it was pretty incredible.”

“I can’t believe this.” I couldn’t stop laughing. “Well, good for you two. Maybe she’ll be more bearable now.”

“Outside of the sex? Doubt it.” He put me on hold to order a cup of coffee. “What about you? Have you fucked your boss again?”

“No, I have not fucked my boss again. Thanks for asking.”

“You’re welcome. Besides, after all the time you’ve spent together without crossing the line, I’d say you more than deserve to. You should just go for it. If you really want it, that is.”

“Trust me, it’s not that I don’t want to fuck Ryan Dalton,” I said, leaning against the window. “Because I totally do and I feel like every day I’ve spent here is a lost day of having him again. I just think we’re trying our best to fight it and remain professional. At this point, I honestly don’t think he would fuck me.”

“He would.”

I gasped at the sound of Ryan’s deep voice and slowly turned around. He was standing in the doorway with that familiar cocky smirk, holding the bags with our dinner at his side.

“By all means ...” he said, setting the food onto the boardroom table. “Feel free to continue your conversation. It sounds quite interesting.”

“I’ll call you back, Sean.” I ended the call and tried not to look directly at Ryan. “You know, since you’re not open to doing the atonement interview preparation anyway, I think I’m going to head back to my office and do some work from there.”

“Would you like me to drive you?”

“No.” My eyes finally met his. “I think I’d rather call a cab.”

“That’s a waste of money.” He stepped closer to me, tilting my chin up with his fingertips. “You know I don’t mind driving you anywhere after hours.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of that. I’m kind of hungry right now and need to get some dinner, though.”

“Then you really don’t need to leave.” He placed his other hand against my waist. “You were the one who insisted that we eat dinner here tonight. Unless you were only saying that to get me out of the room ...”

“No.” I stepped back, feeling like my cheeks were on fire. “It’s just that ...” I stepped back again.

He smiled. “It’s just that what?”

I thought my next move through for all of twenty seconds, knowing damn well it seemed like the most immature thing I could ever do.

Just do it ...

I grabbed my purse and my dinner bag, and then I rushed out of the room, heading straight for the emergency stairs. I took them down three flights, and then caught the elevator on the copy floor. When I stepped outside, I hailed the first cab that approached.

“Broadway and Fifth Avenue, please,” I said to the driver. “The Office Suites.”

He nodded and pulled onto the road, and as he passed the first stoplight, my phone buzzed against my lap.

Ryan.

I didn’t answer it, and he called five more times before I placed my phone on silent.

When I arrived to my firm, I didn’t bother walking to my own office. I plopped face-down on the entry room couch and groaned.

I can’t believe he heard me say I wanted to fuck him again ...

I decided I would deal with seeing him tomorrow, but ten minutes later there was a knock at the door. I knew it was him without even answering it, but I didn’t get up. Instead, I called his phone.

“Yes?” he answered. “Is there any reason why you can’t open your office door for me?”

“I’m in the middle of an important interview.”

“This late at night?” He had to be smiling. “I highly doubt that. Open the door or I will.”

I remained face down and seconds later I heard the lock on the door slowly turning.

What the?

I sat upright as he was pushing it open. “How did you get a key to my private firm?”

“The same way you got a key to my private office.” He shut the door behind him, locking his eyes on mine. “I don’t believe we were finished working on my atonement interview.”

“You said you had no interest in doing it, so I’m not going to push you.”

“I find that hard to believe ...” He walked over to the couch and I stood up, moving into the hallway.

He followed me and smiled. “I think you should at least ask me why I don’t want to do it.”

“It doesn’t matter since your mind is clearly made up.”

“Ask me, Penelope.”

“Fine. Why don’t you want to do the atonement interview, Mr. Dalton?

“Because I have nothing to atone for,” he said. “The interviewer was fucking my almost-girlfriend behind my back, and he knew damn well that she was my almost-girlfriend. He’d been bragging about it for weeks.”

“Almost-girlfriend?” I asked. “Between that and your random backwards countdown episodes, I’m beginning to think you really are a child.”

“She was the closest relationship I’d ever had, and the closest I’d ever come to asking someone to be mine,” he said. “I refuse to give her the official ‘girlfriend’ title since she was fucking almost all of my former friends behind my back.”

“That’s more than understandable ... Thank you very much for telling me that.” I realized he wasn’t going to let me get around him and leave. “Well, I’ll find a way to get around the atonement thing. I’ll try to find a way to prove that he has been playing the victim this whole time, and maybe I can work with that and restore the supplier’s relationship with your company that way.”

He said nothing. He just looked at me, turning me on with each second that passed.

“Well, if that’s all you wanted to talk about, Mr. Dalton ...” I managed to step backwards a few times, to make it all the way inside my office. I secured my hand firmly on the doorknob so I could shut the door in his face. “I think we can talk more tomorrow.”

“We can definitely talk tomorrow,” he said, moving my arm. “And we can definitely fuck tonight.” His lips covered mine in seconds and he pushed me back against the wall. His hands immediately went under my dress and he yanked off my panties—letting out a low laugh as he caught sight of the black lace falling to the floor.

“I take it you didn’t wear those for me today?” He bit my bottom lip. “That none of the lingerie you’ve been wearing to work recently was in hopes that I would notice?”

“Did you notice?”

“Every time.” He pinned me to the wall with his hips and continued his expert domination of my mouth. He was kissing me so wildly, that the folders on the cabinet next to me fell to the floor—leaving scattered sheets all over the carpet.

“Unbuckle my pants ...” He commanded softly, but I didn’t listen. Instead I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned his forceful kisses, fighting him for full control.

He slid his hands under my dress and squeezed my ass until I softened my kiss and gave in to him completely, returning the control to him.

As his tongue danced against mine, he lifted me up by my cheeks and carried me over to the desk, plopping my bare ass against the cool metal. Pulling away from my mouth, he pushed all my files and papers to the floor before laying me flat atop the surface.

Keeping his eyes on mine, he unbuckled his pants himself, quickly freeing his huge, hardened cock. He stepped forward, grabbing my hand and silently commanded me to stroke him.

He groaned as my hand moved up and down his length, as I leaned forward a bit and slowly took him into my mouth. I moved my mouth against his cock even faster and he fisted his hands in my hair and began to breathe harder.

“Fuck, Penelope ...” His voice was harsh. “Fuck ...”

I could feel his cock getting even harder between my lips, feel him on the verge of exploding right onto my tongue, but he gently pushed my head away before he could finish.

Looking beyond impressed, he kissed my lips and moved to the other side of me.

My breath caught in my throat as he suddenly pulled me forward by my ankles so my legs were dangling off the edge. I didn’t get a chance to ask what the hell he was doing before he knelt between my thighs and sucked my clit into his mouth, making me cry out his name in mere seconds.

With the soft strokes of his tongue, he teased me and brought me to the edge of an orgasm, but he never let me have it. Each time I was on the verge of coming, he simply stopped and blew against my clit—cruelly leaving me stranded between pleasure and an unbearable need to release.

Still teasing, he slipped two thick fingers deep inside of me and my hips began to jerk. I grabbed the edges of my desk for support.

“Please don’t stop, Ryan ...” I begged. “Please ...”

“I don’t plan to,” he said, his voice low.

He continued to torture me with his tongue until I could barely handle anymore, until I screamed his name and my pussy throbbed against his mouth.

Anxious to return the favor, I attempted to sit up, but he pressed his palms against my thighs—preventing me from moving.

“Don’t get up.” He warned, briefly letting me go so he could put on a condom. When he was done, he took a seat behind my desk and pulled me up, positioning me over his cock and lowering me onto him inch by inch.

“Ahhh ...” I cried out, as he roughly bit my bottom lip, as he attempted to distract me from taking the full length of him this way. “Ryan ...”

“Penelope ...” He grabbed my hips once he was completely inside of me, keeping his mouth attached to mine as he rocked my body against his.

“Come on my cock ...” He briefly tore away from my mouth and kissed my neck.

He planted wet kisses up and down my skin while still rocking me, and I felt tremors building inside of me.

“Oh, god ...Oh ...” I shut my eyes and bit his shoulder as my body convulsed for the second time in a row. I felt him go stiff seconds after me, heard him asking me something I didn’t quite understand.

We remained entwined and panting for what felt like forever. I didn’t want to move again, but he eventually lifted me off him. He set me on the desk and threw away the condom. Then he stood up to readjust his pants and headed to the door.

“You’re leaving?” I asked softly. “Now?”

“Not at all.” He locked the door. “We have thirty days of lost fucking to make up for ...”