Wrapped In My Wife(5)

“With all due respect, get the fuck out of my office,” I say, balling up her panties in my fist and seeing the handwritten note under them.

I don’t hear his response. I just know he does as I ask when the handle on the door clicks closed.

“What are you up to, Emily?” I ask as I pick up the note and read what it says.

Thought you might be hungry… Looks like I was wrong.

I have to work late, but don’t worry, I got the sitter to get the boys.

Love, Emily.

PS Don’t worry about paying her. She said you gave her plenty last night.





I curse as I ball up the note. The sitter didn’t know what I was up to yesterday, so my cover isn’t blown. But she knows I wasn’t at home like I said I was. Damn it, I should have told her to keep quiet about the cash. I had no idea how much I gave her. I just stuffed some bills in her hand and prayed she didn’t stay to chat with Emily.

Glancing down at my hand, I see the now familiar pale pink cotton panties I’d slid up her legs this morning. Which means right this second, my wife has her bare pussy wet and ready for the taking.

I growl as I stuff her panties into my pocket and then nearly yank my office door off the hinges before I stomp down the hall. I’m in a cloud of anger as I barrel down the hall, but I know I need to say something to Jonathan so he doesn’t just quit on me.

“Mr. Wallace, I’m so sorry—” He jumps up and tries to apologize, but I cut him off when I hold my hand up for him to stop talking.

“I knew when I hired you that you were a go-getter. I like that you’ve got initiative and you want to see the company grow. But you need to simmer down a few pegs and take a breath.”

He nods and I’m glad he’s silent.

“It’s my own fault. My last assistant did everything for me, and I let her. We’ll get there, it’s just going to take some time. For now, I need you to keep showing my calendar as full, but I’m not coming to the office. I’ll let you know when things need to change, and they will. I can’t keep working long hours like I have been. The whole point to building all this is so I could have the time I needed with my family.”

I take a breath and rub a hand down my face.

“Can I trust you to handle this place until I can get back?”

“Yes, sir,” he tells me without hesitation.

I believe him. Even though, I kind of have to, he’s capable of running this whole business without me for longer than I care to think about. He’s a great asset to the company, and if he can do what he says, then I think there will be a lot of room for him to grow here.

I tell him as much, and he beams with pride as I walk out and wave goodbye to him over my shoulder.

When I hop in my truck, I pull Emily’s panties out of my pocket and bring them to my nose. The smell of her pussy drives me fucking crazy. She knew what she was doing by coming here and leaving these. She’s waving a red flag in front of a bull, and she damn well knows it.

She might as well be goddamn Cinderella running all over town missing these. Good thing for her, I’m the handsome prince who’s going to hunt her down and slip them on. And even better, I might just have to spank her ass for it while I do it.





Chapter 7





Dylan





When I pull up at the library, I tuck my aching cock away so I don’t scare whatever gray-haired old ladies they’ve got working here. I’ve got Emily’s panties tucked away safe in my front pocket of my jeans and I reach down in there every so often to touch them.

When I get inside I walk to the circular desk in the middle. Instead of what I predicted to be an old lady wearing a cardigan, it’s a woman about the same age as my wife. She’s got on a polka-dot dress and her hair is up in a bandana. She smiles at me when she sees me and walks over to where I’m standing.

“How can I help you today?” she asks.

“I’m looking for my wife. Emily Wallace.”

“Oh,” she says, her eyes going wide. She looks me up and down then picks up a phone. “She’s in the back. I’ll page her.”

She turns her back to me as she whispers something I don’t catch into the phone. When she’s finished she turns back around and gives me a giant smile.

“I’m Nancy. It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I say, trying to be polite.

What I really want to do is stomp to the back myself and find my goddamn wife. But this is her place of work and I don’t want to cause her any trouble. I’ve already got a list of grievances on this place a mile long, so I try to focus on the problem at hand.

I pace around a little, but Nancy doesn't take her eyes off me. After what feels like forever, my bride comes around a corner looking like she ran the whole way here.

“Dylan.” Her voice is cool and completely opposite to the way she looks.

She’s in the dress she bought for our date night we had a few months back. “Why are you wearing that?” I say a little too loudly.

Emily shushes me and takes me by the arm. She leads me down a hallway and to an office in the back of the building that I haven’t seen before. Michael didn’t put cameras in here, and I’m already thinking about how he needs to fix that. I don’t want a place in this building where I can’t see her.

“What are you doing here?” she hisses at me, and then pokes me in my chest. “You weren’t in your office today, where you were supposed to be. And what’s this I hear about the boys being with the sitter last night? Do you have anything you need to tell me, Wallace?”

I know she means business when she calls me by my last name. Shit. I look down at her in that dress and I start thinking back to the last time she had it on. I fucked her in the bathroom of the restaurant, unable to make it home before I had her. Damn, how long ago was that date night? Was that really the last time I took her out? Sure, I’ve made love to her since then, but I can’t recall the last time I made a special night for us.

“Dylan,” she prompts, and I can see the impatience in her eyes.

“You asked me if I was hungry,” I say, taking a prowling step towards her. I move slowly, and her eyes widen. “Button, you know I’m always starving for it.”

She takes a step back, holding her hands up and looking over her shoulder towards the door. “Dylan, we can’t. Not here.”

“I’ll fuck you anywhere I want,” I say, taking another step towards her. My heavy work boots are loud on the tile floor.

“This is where I work,” she says through gritted teeth. Her fists are clenched at her side, but she knows better than to tell me no. “You can’t come in here and be all…all…you.”

I press her body up against the door and kick her legs apart. “You laid down the gauntlet when you threw your panties on my desk and sassed out of my office. You knew exactly what you were doing. Don’t try to deny it.”

Her cheeks burn red, and I know I’m right.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, but she can’t meet my eyes now.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about what I’ve been up to,” I say, and she snaps her eyes up to mine. “You wanted a good dicking down, so you’re about to get it.”

“Oh god.” Her voice trembles as I kneel down in front of her and push up her dress.

“Hold it,” I say, and she grabs the material. “Running around all over town with not a scrap on the one thing that belongs to me.”

“Dylan, I didn’t—”

“You’re done talking. You said all you needed to on that note, practically begging for a fuck.” I lean forward and lick her pussy just how she likes it. “Cover your mouth up. I don’t want a sound.”

“Shit,” she hisses, and I watch as she takes one hand away from holding her dress and puts it over her mouth.

The sweet scent of her fills my lungs as I push her legs apart and run my tongue between her lower lips.

“Goddamn, it still tastes just like it did the night I popped your cherry.” I run my tongue back and forth across her clit. “I had no clue what I was doing back then. Just knew I wanted to bury my face in it and drink it dry.” I play with her clit a little more and her thighs try to close on me. I hold them tight so she can’t get away. “I was fumbling and trying to do what I thought felt good. I was a boy then. But not anymore. Now I’m your man, and I know exactly what this pussy wants.”

I look up and lock eyes with her as I lean forward and cover her with my mouth as I suck. Her eyes roll to the back of her head and I can taste her orgasm getting closer.

“You come in my office with a bare cunt again and I’ll bend you over my desk and paint your ass red,” I say, running my hand up the inside of her thigh before I push two thick fingers into her soaked pussy. “And if I find out you’ve been waving it around to everyone with not a stitch to cover it up, then I’ll make sure you don’t sit for a week.”

I rub that sweet spot inside her, knowing it’s the one place that drives her fucking wild. Her whimpers get louder as my rough, work-worn hands press against her tender little G-spot. It’s no match for me and what I’m demanding. I’ve had years of practice in how to make her body sing, and I’m a goddamn composer.