Andie Devaux's Blog, page 7
June 18, 2014
Pushing the Limits
*ADULTS ONLY*
Faith had been waiting for this moment. Aching for it. And now that it was here, she could hardly believe it wasn’t a dream.
She’d been working at Lawrence and Associates for weeks. And for weeks she’d barely allowed herself to dream about her boss. He’d practically ignored her since her interview. Since hiring her for a job that required far more than filing.
Of course, he’d warned her. He’d explained quite clearly that she would have to earn his trust before he’d touch her. On some level, she just hadn’t really believed it would ever happen.
The man wasn’t only good looking and intelligent—simple human qualities like that wouldn’t make him so unattainable—he was also the most distant, difficult to reach man she’d ever met.
But she could reach him now. Reach right out and touch his lean muscles, his chiseled face. His hard cock.
She licked her lips.
Lawrence didn’t bother with his shirt. Instead, once he’d helped her back down to her knees, he simply unbuttoned his slacks and pulled his long, thick cock free. He didn’t close the short gap between them immediately. Instead, he gripped himself and pulled.
Her mouth dropped open and she gasped at the sight. It sent her straight back to the moment when she’d watched him jack off during her interview. After he’d spanked her. After he’d let his men use her.
When he’d instructed them to pull her to her feet so he could spill his seed on her naked breasts.
Just like that moment, his grip was hard, and his pull exacting. His eyes were locked on her body, which had once again been used at his discretion. And she was on the floor, on her knees, waiting to service him any way he wanted.
“Take off the bra,” he said, voice low and guttural.
She started at the sudden sound of his voice, but didn’t hesitate to remove the little bit of fabric that could be considered a bra only in the broadest sense of the word.
The material fell to the floor, revealing her breasts to him. Her nipples were hard and the peaks pointed to him, as if begging for his touch.
She was about ready to beg, too.
“Good girl,” he groaned, his hand moving faster.
She bit her lip to keep from asking him—begging him—to let her take his gorgeous cock into her mouth. To let her pleasure him. That would only dissuade him, convince him that she wasn’t ready. He had to be the one who decided when it was time. His dominant nature would allow for no less.
June 2, 2014
Website Update
You might notice the website has changed a bit, and the blog is brand new. I change the template and when things weren’t working, I blew the whole thing up and started over. Just the kind of gal I am. 
Customer Satisfaction
*ADULTS ONLY*
An hour after nearly everyone else in the office had left, Faith shifted on her feet just inside of Mr. Lawrence’s office, uncomfortable despite the softness of the rather scandalous-looking lingerie she now wore beneath her pencil skirt and blouse.
It was Friday night, so nearly everyone was gone by four o’clock. Lawrence and Associates demanded hard work from their employees, but they also seemed to expect them to have personal lives. A pretty crazy expectation in the business world, from what Faith had seen so far.
Lawrence greeted her with a silent nod, but the way his eyes raked over her body, it was as if he could see the garters, the tiny panties, and the thin, matching bra.
“Ready?” he asked, finally.
She nodded, unable to find her voice.
Without another word, he strode past her out of his office, and after a moment’s hesitation, she followed. He led her to the largest of the office’s three conference rooms.
The two clients were dressed in almost comically identical suits, but that was where their similar look ended.
“This is Tomas,” Lawrence said, indicating a large Hispanic man who gave her a warm smile and shook her hand carefully. “And this is Sean.”
Sean didn’t offer to shake her hand; instead, the smaller man eyed her up and down, his gaze calculating. An edge of something ruthless in his expression made her want to step closer to Lawrence.
She licked her lips and murmured, “Nice to meet you.”
Suddenly the weight of what she was doing hit her. Could she really let two total strangers take her in the way she’d allowed the men at the interview? For some reason, this felt different. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact they didn’t work for Lawrence and Associates that bothered her, or simply that one of them didn’t look at her like the men had during her interview—with reverence and delight.
Maybe it was because her interview sex had been spur of the moment, but this…she’d had time to think about this.
Breaths coming in short gasps, and her palms suddenly sweaty, she looked at Lawrence.
Concern immediately filled his expression and he stepped close to her. She looked down, and he slid his hand under her chin, prompting her to meet his dark gaze.
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he said, voice low for her ears only.
“Will you stay?” she asked, hating the high tone in her voice. She wanted to feel secure about this, dammit. Confident. But somewhere between her cubicle and the conference room, she’d lost her poise.
His expression softened further. “Of course. You’re still in your probationary period, after all.” His mouth turned hard. “That doesn’t mean I won’t push your limits in here though, pet.”
The Interview
*ADULTS ONLY*
“Why are you so desperate for this job?”
“I need the money,” she said honestly. “And more than that, I need to find a place where I can put in the effort and see something from it. A place where I can fit in.”
“There is a reason we don’t advertise, Miss Wilson. This job isn’t…typical. Tell me, honestly, do you like sex?”
She gaped at him, but he simply watched her. Shaking herself mentally, she forced herself to get a grip. This was a test, and she wouldn’t allow herself to fail it. “I like sex.”
He arched a brow at her.
Honesty. He was looking for honesty, she reminded herself. “I’ve had two boyfriends. One in high school, and one in college that I split up with recently. They were both my age. And the sex was…fine.”
“Just fine?”
“It was fun. Ish. Fun-ish. But, you know, nothing like you’d read in a book or see in a movie. Nothing earth-shattering.” She wasn’t even totally sure the mind-blowing sex she’d seen in fiction was actually possible.
“Thank you for your honesty.” He leaned forward. “How would you like to experience earth-shattering?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m risking a lot telling you about this, Miss Wilson. I’m counting on that ironclad discretion you showed me earlier. This job isn’t simply for an assistant—although most of your working hours will call for office tasks, the type you can use on a résumé later. This job also requires for you to make yourself available. Sexually.”
Mouth suddenly dry, she had to swallow hard before she could speak. “To you?” That idea didn’t sound half bad, actually. She was attracted to Mr. Lawrence, achingly so. He wasn’t just good looking and older, he had the aura of a man who was devastating in bed. Take charge. She’d never really experienced that kind of man, and the idea of it was…interesting.
“If you make it through your trial period, then yes. But not just me. You’ll be available to other employees. Clients.” His hard blue eyes narrowed. “You’ll spread your legs, open your mouth, for anyone I tell you to.”
She gasped, trying to ignore the sudden heat and wetness between her thighs at the thought of being sexually available at this sexy, strong man’s whim. “What are you? A pimp?”
“No. But I ensure that everyone in my company—and serviced by my company—is satisfied. That would include you.” He pushed up and walked around the desk, then knelt next to her chair and then swiveled it so she was facing him. The man was huge and she was petite, so it put them at eye level. “You’re innocent, Miss Wilson. Not my usual employee. But there’s something about you. About the way you blush.”
Half her mind told her to run. Was screaming this was a terrible idea. Wrong. Immoral. And downright dangerous.
But the other half wanted to see exactly what kind of satisfaction this man could offer her.
Office Heat
*ADULTS ONLY*
“You work too much,” Daniel replied.
I shivered at the low tone in his voice. Did he sound husky, like our small touch had affected him, too? No. That wasn’t possible. He had plenty of women chasing him, and he’d slept with more than his fair share from the rumors I’d heard. Such a small touch wouldn’t affect a man like him. Especially not with someone like me, a mousy woman at least a couple of years older than him.
“Well, these reports won’t finish themselves.” I kept my tone as light as I could, but couldn’t help the slight catch in my voice.
“There will be time enough for those after.”
“After what?” I turned to look at him, blinking in confusion as he pulled off his tie and tossed it on the conference table.
“After we both relax a little.” The shadows in the room cast his face in an odd light, making his grin seem more dangerous, his eyes darker.
“I don’t know what—”
“Stand up, Alison.”
I gaped at him, but found myself moving. Standing. Why was I letting him order me around? He wasn’t my boss. But the tone in his voice brooked no argument, and some part of me responded to it. A touch of fear swirled with nerves and desire, making me shaky and unsure of myself.
“Very good.” He stepped toward me, and I watched him, not certain how to feel. When he reached out and slid a long finger down the side of my neck, I flinched.
“This isn’t right.” The lightness in my tone was gone, leaving only breathiness behind.
“Oh, it’s right.” He tipped my chin up so I would meet his gaze. His green eyes were narrowed and his normal easy grin was gone. He looked deadly serious, and as close as he stood, I could feel how big he was. Probably five-ten, which was tall compared to my five-three, even with three-inch pumps on.
“Do you think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve looked at me, Alison?” he continued. “That needy hunger in your eyes. That desire you think you hide so well behind your professional facade.”
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His lips turned into a cruel grin, not an expression I’d ever seen on the easygoing man before.
“Lie.” His hand moved down from my chin, sliding softly down the tender skin of my neck to the swell of my breasts, just barely exposed by my button-up blouse. “A man can only take so much of that before he has to act on it. And I’ve hit my limit.”
Snowed In
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. All the time the four of us have been spending together the last few months. And now the weekend away to the romantic cabin.”
“They’re trying to set us up.” It all suddenly made sense, and Carrie burned with embarrassment that she hadn’t picked up on it already, like Bryan had.
“Yep,” Bryan said, but to his credit he didn’t add that she was slow for not realizing sooner.
“But that’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” he asked, but she could hear the smile in his voice.
“We’re like oil and water. If oil and water annoyed the crap out of each other in addition to not mixing well.” She drank down the rest of her wine and set the glass on the coffee table between them. “Sorry, but come on.”
“Don’t worry, the feeling is mutual.”
Something inside of her twinged at his words. It wasn’t that she expected Bryan to like her—they annoyed each other far too much for that—but her pride didn’t care to have it spoken aloud. And he was a very attractive man, well-built with a chiseled jaw and the sharp features of an old movie star. If he’d keep his mouth shut for five minutes he’d make good eye candy.
And if she was totally honest, she’d thought about him far too often. Not about being with him in any real way, but there was something about the cruel set to his mouth, the way his eyes watched her sometimes, that made her wonder what it would be like to be with him. Different, she was sure, than it had been with the other men—boys, really—that she’d dated in school.
“That’s not to say I haven’t fantasized about you.”
Her throat went dry when he voiced her thoughts as if he’d plucked them right out of her skull, and she wished she hadn’t drank all of her wine. She swallowed hard, but her voice still came out weak, hesitant.
“You have?”
“Oh yes.” His glass chinked as he set it on the coffee table. And even in the darkness she could feel his eyes on her. Watching. Waiting for her reaction.
Images ran through her mind. Bryan’s cruel grin replaced a look of ecstasy when she touched him. His body covering hers while he thrust into her heat. Bryan’s eyes, locking on hers as he whispered pretty words…or dirty ones.
It was a terrible idea to delve into any fantasies he’d had that she happened to star in. Terrible. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
“What have you fantasized about?”
“Do you really want to know?” His voice deepened, and she squirmed in her seat.
“Yes.”
Against the Wall
Great. Just flipping wonderful. Could her night get any better?
Michelle Thomas eyed the flashing red and blue lights in her rearview mirror and carefully pulled off to the side of the road. It took all the self-control she could muster and a few deep breaths not to smack the steering wheel to vent some frustration while the motorcycle cop took his sweet time approaching the window of her little Honda. With her luck, she’d hit the horn and he’d take her to jail for being a jerk.
Tonight just sucked. Not only had her ex-boyfriend Gavin shown up at her apartment—something she was on the edge of getting a restraining order to prevent in the future—but Kristy had called and changed their night out from a club near her house to some dive bar across town. At least, she assumed it was a dive bar. What other kind of bar could it be with a name like Tom’s Tavern?
Now, not only had Gavin once again creeped her out, she couldn’t even properly drown her sorrows. She’d have to take an expensive cab home if she did. Although the price of a cab might be worth it after her week from hell.
The cop tapping on her window wasn’t likely to give a crap about any of that. And she wouldn’t to grovel to avoid a ticket—that would just add insult to injury at this point. Begging out of a ticket had never worked for her anyway.
“Can I help you?” she said in a sickly sweet fake voice.
“License, registration and proof of insurance, please,” he said in a deep baritone, words so practiced he sounded bored. “Do you know why I pulled you over?”
Yeah, right. Like she was going to offer up ideas and get herself who-knew-how-many tickets. “You had nothing better to do?”
“I clocked you at seventeen miles per hour over the speed limit.”
“Of course you did.”
“Excuse me?” He leaned toward her window and pushed down his sunglasses. She caught a glimpse of a strong jaw and blue eyes against a dark head of hair that was mussed from his motorcycle helmet.
“I said, of course you did. Because that’s just how shitty my day is going.” She knew she shouldn’t mouth off, but she just couldn’t seem to stop the flow of words. Something inside of her had hit a boiling point. “Figures I’d get pulled over, too.”
Was it her imagination or did his mouth twitch just a bit at her comment?
“Well, your day is going to get even worse if you don’t find your license, registration and proof of insurance.”
She cursed under her breath and fished through her glove compartment. Three expired proofs of insurance later, she found the correct one. But her registration proved elusive. She handed him what she had and then peeked out the window.
“I have my registration from”—she scanned the date—”two years ago.”
“I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the car while I check these.”
Just her luck. Could the night get any worse?
She exited the vehicle and then watched the police officer walk back to his motorcycle. The flashing lights to warn oncoming traffic of the potential hazard did nothing to distract her from the tight ass of the man walking away from her, nor from the powerful width of his shoulders. He was tall—over six feet. And built. The officer knew his way around a gym.
She resisted the urge to lean back against her car while she waited for him to check her information. Dirt coated its surface from the last rainstorm. Washing it this week just hadn’t seemed important. She’d spent the week avoiding Gavin and doing what she could to enjoy her last summer of freedom.
Two weeks until she started graduate school. Until then, her only responsibilities were entertaining herself and showing up somewhat on time for her part-time barista job that was less than a hop, skip and a jump from her new apartment just off campus. Most of the summer had disappeared far too quickly, sucked away by Gavin and his dramatics.
What remained would be her one taste of real freedom from the constant stress of classes since she’d started college. Whoever thought you could graduate in four years without summer classes hadn’t double majored. But now she was done—free. For the first time in her twenty-three years. No parents to see on a daily basis. No classes to attend. No boyfriend to worry over or spend time with.
“Are you aware that your copy of the registration is expired?” His gravelly tone sounded neither sympathetic nor annoyed. He could have been talking about the weather, for crying out loud. She was sick of this. This was her two weeks. Her time. This guy wasn’t taking any more of it, no matter how well his uniform fit and how freaking stunning his features were behind his dark Aviator sunglasses.
“No shit, Sherlock,” she said. His jaw ticked, and her bravery faltered. “Look at my plates. There’s a sticker there.”
“Those can be stolen.”
“Doesn’t your system tell you that my plates are fine?” she bit out, taking a step toward him. She was so sick of bullies. This man wasn’t bullying her, too. Cop or no.
“Yes.” Was it just her imagination or did a glimmer of amusement touch his lips?
Her jaw dropped and she poked at his chest without thinking. “Then why are you hassling me?”
“Have had anything to drink or taken any drugs today, Miss Thomas?”
“What? Of all the stupid—”
“Turn around and put your hands on the car.”
Sweet Ride
Wind and rain beat against Emma’s body, the thin material of her blouse and skirt doing almost nothing to keep out the wetness and the chill. Struggling with the cold, she ran for the bus, her shopping bag beating on her calf as she half carried, half dragged it behind.
What the hell? Was the weather supposed to be so terrible? She should have checked the report online before she’d left for an impromptu day of shopping across town, but her phone app had shown a bright little sun only an hour before. Chicago weather seemed to change moods more often than her annoying boss. Not for the first time today, she wished she’d worn real underwear.
Stupid skirt that showed pantylines. Stupid shoe obsession. Stupid Chicago weather. It was May, for crying out loud.
The bus driver seemed to pause before taking off, a miracle in her experience, and she trotted up the steps. Giving the stone-faced man a tight grin as she scanned her card, she wondered why the hell she’d decided to make a trip to the other side of the city for a shoe sale.
Well, it had been quite a sale.
And she’d needed to get out of her apartment. She had been about two seconds from losing her shit due to pure boredom. Chicago was a new city to her, and she didn’t know anyone save her coworkers and her boss. She hadn’t yet made any friends that she felt comfortable hanging out with outside of work. Not to mention it had been a beautiful day.
So much for that.
The rain had rolled in quickly, soaking through her clothes in what seemed like a blink of an eye. The bus was more crowded than she was used to, probably full of people who would have normally walked a few blocks if not for the chilling rain. She made her way down the aisle toward the back of the bus, keeping her gaze locked on the floor as much as she could. She was pretty sure that total strangers could see exactly how cold she was, with her nipples hard as rocks against the wet material of her blouse, and the last thing she wanted to do was accidentally make eye contact with someone and see them smirk.
Like the rest of the bus, there was standing room only in the back, but at least there was room enough that she could find a place to settle. Doing her best not to glare at a man who’d fallen asleep on one of the benches—thus taking way more room than he needed to—she turned to face the front of the bus in and clung to one of the bars passengers used to keep their balance. She was in for a long ride.
Really need to figure out the L.
Shivering, she set her bag on the floor in front of her and then rubbed her arm with her free hand. So damn cold. The man behind her was wearing a suit and long wool coat. She hadn’t glimpsed his face, but she was almost chilly enough to ask the stranger if she could use his jacket. Or even better, huddle up with him under the warm material.
Yeah, ask a perfect stranger to cuddle with you or give you his coat. That would totally go over well.
To her surprise, the man seemed to move closer to her, as if he could read her thoughts. Or, more likely, her blatant shivering.
“Brisk out there,” his low voice murmured in her ear. Sexy and with a hint of gravel, the tones sent an immediate jolt between her legs.
Brisk? Yeah, he had to be a native. The people here were nuts. They wore shorts when it hit fifty.
He moved a little closer, but not unreasonably so on the crowded bus. She couldn’t help but to lean back just a smidgeon. He seemed to radiate heat. Wonderful, fabulous heat.
