Nate watched as Emily cleaned up and got dressed shyly. She smoothed down her hair and put on her bra and blouse, and then slid her skirt on over her bare bottom. She picked her torn, drenched panties off the floor and threw them away.
When she was fully dressed, she turned and stared at Nate. This was the man who had created such intense pleasure and pain within her, but he was still a stranger. She didn’t truly know anything about him, and she wondered what happened next.
Nate pressed a button on his phone, and put it on speakerphone. A male voice answered.
“Aaron. Please bring the car around. You’ll drop Miss Miller home and then come back here.”
“Sure thing.”
He disconnected the line and turned to Emily.
She started to protest, “You don’t have to – ”
“Nonsense. I don’t want you going home on the subway like this.”
He smirked and she couldn’t help but remember what he’d done to her, and smile back.
“It’s late,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You should go home.”
And then he pressed her closer, and brought his lips down on hers. Their mouths met, and she tasted his hot, minty breath, and explored with her tongue. He kissed her for what seemed like hours, passionate and with all the time in the world.
When he moved away she felt slightly dizzy.
“Aaron’s waiting for you.”
“Of course.”
She nodded and left quickly, not wanting to make things awkward.
***
As she passed by her desk, Emily noticed that Tiffany was still there. The blonde looked like she was in shock, and Emily wondered if she’d heard what had happened inside.
That would be funny, decided Emily. Especially since Tiffany was rumored to be telling people that she slept with Nate.
As the elevator went down, Emily wondered what would happen next. But she wasn’t too worried. After all, Nate would see her again, and then they could get to know each other better.
She wasn’t too worried that Nate had sent her home quickly. He probably had somewhere to be, too. Or maybe he was just concerned about her getting home too late. She definitely wasn’t worried.
Chapter Eight
As she stepped out of the car, Emily saw Isabel walking towards her. Great. This was just her luck. She strode up the stairs quickly, and Isabel caught up with her as she was fumbling with the key.
“Who was that?” Isabel’s eyes sparkled with excitement and curiosity. “Did you just have a date with some guy who has a chauffeur-driven limo?”
Emily laughed nervously. “No, don’t be silly. That was Nate’s car. His driver needed to drop off a parcel nearby so he offered to let me use the car to get home.”
Isabel looked at her suspiciously but Emily kept a straight face. She didn’t know why she was lying to Isabel, but she felt like this was essential. She didn’t know where she stood with Nate, and she really didn’t want to face any questions about it, let alone hear how she was going to be miserable.
“Hmm.” Isabel put her bags down and as she was heading towards her room she turned to Emily. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
“Of course.” Emily nodded and gave her a bright smile. “And if there’s ever anything to tell you, I will.”
***
Emily didn’t see or hear from Nate for a week. She wondered what was going on with him, when he would want to see her next. It never occurred to her that he wouldn’t want to see her – there was no doubt in her mind that they shared an incredible connection.
However, as the days went by, she alternated between hope and fear. She imagined Nate asking her out to dinner, and having a gorgeous, romantic time. She imagined them cuddling up under a blanket with popcorn, and watching a cheesy movie together.
And then she worried that she’d misread his interest in her. He had wanted her body, and after one use, he had tired of her. She imagined that he would fire her, and she’d be out of a job. But for once, the fear of not having a job paled in comparison to something else – the fear of not having Nate.
She began to replay that evening over and over in her mind, and when she was at home, she allowed herself to imagine another passionate punishment. She played with herself every day, but despite that she spent most of her time walking in a haze of arousal. She needed to be punished again, she needed Nate.
***
On Thursday morning, Emily got a text from Nate. Come to my office at 7.30 tonight.
She rushed through her work, trying not to think about what would happen, but she found herself remembering his touch and his lips, and was desperate for the clock to rush forward.
Finally, it was time, and she went up to his office. This time when she knocked on the door, she felt more confident. She knew that Nate obsessed about her body just as she obsessed about his, and when she stepped into the room, their eyes locked and the air between them smoldered unmistakably.