His Big Offer(11)

He groans at the first touch of my tongue, closing his eyes and bracing  himself against the desk. I take advantage, using my tongue as much as I  can. I tease him in that sensitive spot under the tip, and I lick along  his length and back.                       
       
           



       

I've always enjoyed this. I love the focus it takes to bring pleasure to  another person, and with Chance it seems deeper. Larger. I like the  feeling of him under my tongue, the duality of hard and soft, the way he  jumps when I do something unexpected. I use my tongue at the base of  his shaft, teasing his balls and the underside of his cock before  working my way back to the tip. Locking eyes with him, I take the head  into my mouth and suck. He's so big, that already he's filling my mouth,  but I take more of him anyway.

A guttural moan comes from Chance, and it spurs me on. I dive onto his  cock as far as I can take it. Circling the rest of him with my hands, I  stroke him in sync with my mouth so he feels like I'm taking all of him.  His hands land in my hair, so I know I must be doing something right.

Chance's breath is short now, quick gulps of air like he's fighting his  own arousal and making it last. I hum with him in my mouth. I know the  vibrations will feel good, and I do it again as I swirl my tongue around  the head of his cock.

"Caroline," he says, and his voice is rough.

I don't stop. I know he's close, and he's going to finish. His hands  tighten in my hair, and I take him faster, using my mouth on him like  he's fucking me. I push further, taking as much of him as I can, holding  him deep. Sucking back to the tip, he gasps again. "Caroline. I'm going  to-"

I feel him try to pull away, to stop me from taking him all the way. I  glare up at him, and instead take him deeper, holding him there,  stroking him with my hands, and satisfaction rolls through me as he  swears, coming. He spills into my mouth, hot and strong, and I swallow  as he comes. I want all of him just like he drank all of me.

He looks even more spent than I was, holding the desk for support as I  let him go, swallowing the last of him. The look of awe is still on his  face. It's my turn to smirk at him.

The intercom on his phone crackles, and Marcy's voice is loud and harsh  in the silence. "Mr. Montgomery, Emily is here to see you."

"Shit," I say, standing up and trying to get the buttons fastened on my shirt.

Chance reaches across the desk. "One minute, Marcy." He puts himself  away and runs a hand through his hair. I do too, after I manage to get  my shirt closed. Fuck. Where is my underwear? I glance on the floor but I  don't see it, and it's not on the desk-

"Emily, come in."

She enters, and freezes when she sees me. "Oh, hello. This is perfect,  actually. Mr. Montgomery, we want to get some pictures of Caroline to  run with the new article tomorrow. We wanted to run wardrobe by you? We  can shoot in the morning and have them in plenty of time to run."

My jaw drops. A photo shoot? "Do we have to?" I ask. "I really don't photograph well."

"Oh, don't worry," Emily says, giving me a smile that's overly sweet,  and I can't tell if she's actually happy or she's picked up on Chance  and me and is jealous. "Jeffrey is the best. He'll make you look good."

"If you can stomach it, Caroline," Chance says, "photos really help with  things like this. If people see who's giving the advice, it feels more  like it's coming from a friend than from stranger on the internet. It  helps drive up the traffic on the site."

I swallow. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Emily hands Chance a folder and he glances through it before handing it  to me. "They all look fine to me, but I think Caroline gets final  approval."

Looking through the photographs, there are five different outfits, all  adorable and perfectly styled. If I could look this good all the time, I  don't think I'd have a problem being photographed. "These are  beautiful," I say. "Did you put them together?"

Emily nods. "I did."

I hand the folder back to her. "I need you to style me every day because you've got fantastic taste."

"Thank you." Suddenly there's a slight blush on her cheeks. "When you  come in the morning we'll get you set up. The photo studio is a couple  floors down."                       
       
           



       

"Perfect."

As soon as she leaves the room, I turn to Chance. "That's what I was afraid of in the elevator."

He grins. "We didn't get caught."

"But almost!"

"Almost," he says, pulling me closer, "is just fine with me." He kisses  me, and it's hard to remember that I'm supposed to be mad, or  frustrated … or something.

When we break apart and I can suddenly think again, it hits me. "Where is my underwear?"

He gives me an innocent look. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You have them, don't you?" I ask, but I'm laughing.

"I suppose you'll just have to come see me at the end of the day to see if I've found them in this enormous office."

I give him a look that tells him I know what he's doing, but I'm fine  with it. "Fine," I say. "I guess I'll see you at the end of business."

"Looking forward to it."





Nine





"I know it may be cliché, but elevators … let's just say I know from  personal experience that elevators can be an excellent place to spice up  your relationship-even if the sex is still amazing. There's something  about the thrill that makes the risk worth it."

-How to Spice Up Your Sex Life, Heartmakers.com



The next few days pass in a whirlwind of writing and kissing and secret  exchanges. I have my first photoshoot, and even though I've never loved  photos of me, Emily was right. Jeffrey is a genius who makes me look  amazing. And Emily was sweet to me the whole time at the photoshoot,  without a hint of the weird jealously I thought I had sensed.

In between working on articles, Chance will pop into my office and sweep  me off to lunch, or into his office where we've nearly been caught  doing naughty things twice more. And once to the floor below ours to a  dark and empty conference room where he took me on the table until I was  screaming. He claims that no one works close enough to that room to  have heard me, but I'm not sure that he's not just saying that to make  me feel better.

And on top of that, the first article debuted to rather ridiculous  success. With Heart Makers being in the news and advertised everywhere,  the post went viral. The comments have been crazy, but mostly positive.  It's strange how everything has fallen into place. Part of me thinks  that because everything is so perfect, the other shoe has to drop at  some point. But for now it's great, and even though it's been barely a  week, I feel like I'm living a whole new life.

I do feel a little guilty that I still haven't told Alice about Chance. I  don't want to see the disappointment on her face that I did the exact  thing that I said I wasn't going to do. And even though Chance says  secrets never lead anywhere good, I want this to stay quiet for a little  while. I will tell her, but I've never had something like this before,  and I want to enjoy it for a little bit before I spill all the gory  details to her.

On top of that, now that I'm making money, I'm making plans to move out  and I don't know how to tell her that. I'm sure she'll be happy for me,  but as cramped as her apartment is with the two of us, and even with the  inconvenience it sometimes causes, we have a really good time living  together. I don't want to spring moving out on her along with the new  boyfriend. It might make her feel like I'm just moving on entirely,  which couldn't be further from the truth.

I grab some coffee from the break room, waving to some people hanging  around, and head to my office. The fact that I now have a routine is  really comforting to me. I've always liked structure, but I hadn't  realized how much I needed it until I started coming in here every day.  It settles my mind. I sit down at my desk and check the emails that came  in overnight. There's one from the PR department that immediately  catches my eye.

It's letting me know that someone is spreading a story about me, and  linking to Rock Bottom Caroline. They want to know if they should delete  the comment, even though the poster has spread it to multiple places.  We haven't been secretive about the fact that I'm the same writer. Views  for my blog have gone through the fucking roof since the first article,  and I've gotten a lot of messages from people praising how funny and  insightful it is. This person … doesn't agree.