Beautiful Bastard (Chapter 5 OVERDRIVE)

There were eighty-three vents, twenty-nine screws, five blades, four bulbs and a whole lot of dust on the ceiling fan above my bed. Great. I rolled onto my side, certain muscles mocking me and providing undeniable proof of why I was unable to sleep. Chills ran down my spine and my nipples hardened as I thought back to his words yesterday afternoon.

"No, I want you to look right there. I want you to watch me fuck you. And tomorrow when you're sore, I want you to remember who did this to you."

He really wasn't kidding . My hips and my thighs had never ached so beautifully as they had every time I moved tonight. Huffing a sigh and reaching under the blankets, I gave up and groaned in frustration as I pulled my soaking wet panties off, throwing them on the floor. This was getting old.

I'd never gone through so much underwear in my life…and that was without his help. With his help… well, that was an entirely different matter. My poor, poor panties. That man had destroyed almost $500 in lingerie. Good lingerie. My power panties.

Well, I guess we saw how far they got me.

The situation was so insane that I couldn't help but laugh in my silent room. I was fucked in a dressing room seven hours ago. And fucked well. With Mr. Ryan out of the office yesterday morning, I had finished my work and left early, hoping to escape the constant thoughts of him. What better way to distract myself than with some shopping? And even then, despite all my efforts to avoid him, there he was, browsing through lingerie at La Perla.

The man might be a complete bastard, but there was no denying he knew what he was doing. And despite the fact that I couldn't stand him, I was loving every minute of it. God, my body was such a traitor.

Without realizing it, my hand had traveled to my breast; absently twisting my nipple over my ribbed tank top. Closing my eyes, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding as the touch of my own hands turned into those in my memory. His long graceful fingers ghosting along the underside of my breasts, his thumbs brushing my nipples, cupping me in his large hands… damn it. I let out a loud sigh and kicked a throw pillow off my bed. I knew exactly where this train of thought was headed. I had done this exact same thing three nights in a row and it had to fucking stop now. With a huff I rolled over onto my stomach, and closed my eyes tight, willing sleep to come.

But twenty minutes later, I was still awake. Shit.

How had my life come to this? I still remembered, with perfect clarity, the day almost a year and a half ago when Carlisle asked me up to his office for a talk. Although I was close with the Ryans, he had sounded very formal when he'd phoned my office where I was currently working as a Junior Assistant, and frankly I was scared shitless. Upon entering, his secretary smiled and ushered me right in.

Sixteen months earlier

"Chloe." Carlisle greeted me with a warm smile and motioned to the large chair opposite him. "Please, have a seat. I have something I'd like to discuss with you."

"Of course, Mr. Ryan," I smiled back nervously, taking my seat.

"Chloe, I've called you in today because I have some big news to share, and an offer I'd like you to consider. I'm sure you're aware that my son Bennett has been living and working in Paris for the last six years. He's made quite a name for himself at Louis Vuitton, but I made him an offer to work here and I'm happy to say that he said yes. He'll be taking over as CFO, and I'd like it very much if you'd agree to be his executive assistant. You've been an outstanding part of this company for a while now, and I think that you and Bennett would make a great team. He's going to need your guidance with company policy and culture in the beginning, but I'm sure you'll settle into a smooth working relationship quickly. What do you say, Chloe?"

I sat there for a few moments, completely stunned. He wanted to promote me to executive assistant to the CFO. I replayed the words over and over in my mind, trying to convince myself that it wasn't a joke. This was beyond amazing. This would mean a new office, higher pay and… I almost gasped, more money to spend on La Perla.

"Chloe?" Carlisle asked, sounding concerned. I looked up, dazed, to see that he had walked around the desk and was now kneeling if front of me.

Shaking my head slightly to clear it I smiled. "I can't believe this is happening. I'm so honored that you would even consider me." Tears were welling in my eyes and I tried frantically to blink them away.

"Chloe," he said taking my hands and speaking softly. "Besides the fact that Esme and I adore you, there is no one I would trust more to work with my son. You do a fantastic job here and I've been so thrilled to watch your progression in this company and as a person over the last five years."

"Thank you. Thank you so much," I whispered back, trying to keep the tears at bay. "I just hope I can live up to your expectations." I had never met Bennett, but with a family like this, how could he be anything but wonderful?

"I'm absolutely certain you will." Carlisle stood and walked back around his desk to sit back down.

"I've told Bennett all about you, and he is very anxious to meet you."

"You and your family must be thrilled that he's coming home after all these years," I said, thankful for the change in subject. I was a bit overwhelmed and needed to distract myself.

"Oh, we are. He's been gone for so long," he said trailing off, a small smile gracing his lips. "You know, I always hoped that my sons would both work here, but Bennett…" he added shaking his head in good humor. "Bennett has always been his own man and a bit stubborn. He insisted he go out into the world and make a name for himself. He's extremely driven and quite independent, which is why I know that you two will be perfect together."

I gratefully accepted the position and left the office in a smiling haze. All my years of loyalty and hard work were finally paying off. Carlisle explained that I would move up to the eighteenth floor immediately and work along with the current CFO and assistant; they were both set to retire this year, so the transition would be a smooth one. I was relieved to know that I would have a full six months of training ahead before Bennett arrived. Carlisle also gave me an advanced copy of the memo that would be sent around the company telling of Bennett's background and arrival.

Wow. That was my only thought as I looked over the paper on my way back to my office. Senior Management Controller in Paris, youngest nominee ever featured in the Crain's "Forty under 40", published in the Wall Street Journal, and a dual MBA from NYU-Stern School of Business and HEC

Paris, where he specialized in Corporate Finance and Global Business, graduating summa cum laude.

All by the age of twenty-eight. Christ. What was it Carlisle had said? Extremely driven? That was an understatement if I'd ever heard one.

The six months seemed to fly by and I had to admit, I was made for my job. During that time, I tried to glean every bit of personal information about him I could. I knew quite a bit about Bennett the professional, but very little of Bennett the person.

Emmett hinted that his brother didn't quite share his jovial personality, but when I had acted concerned he quickly put my mind at ease.

"He has a tendency to be a bit stiff and completely anal retentive at times, but don't worry about it, Chloe. Just give him some time to loosen up and you guys are going to be a great team. I mean, come on," he said, wrapping his large arm around me. "How could he not love you?"

I hated to admit it now, but by the time he was set to arrive, not only was I extremely anxious, but I had developed a bit of a crush on Bennett Ryan. Not only was he beautiful, but I was incredibly impressed with all the amazing things he had accomplished in his relatively short life. We had communicated through email leading up to his arrival and although he seemed nice enough, he was never overly friendly.

On the morning of the big day, Bennett wasn't set to arrive until after the board meeting that afternoon where he would be officially introduced, so I knew I had the entire day to work myself up into a ball of nerves. Being the good friend she is, Angela came upstairs to distract me. She sat in my chair and we spent over an hour discussing the merits of the Clerks movies .

Soon I was laughing so hard, I had tears running down my face. I didn't noticed that Angela stiffened when the outer office door opened, and I didn't notice that someone was now standing behind me.

And though Angela tried to warn me with a swift hand across the throat, the universal sign for "shut the fuck up", I ignored her, because apparently I'm an idiot.

"And then," I giggled, holding onto my sides, "She says, 'Fuck, I had to take a fucking order off a guy I blew after Junior Prom, once.' And then he says, 'Yeah, I've waited on your brother, too." Another bout of laughter hit me, and I stumbled backward a bit until I collided with something hard and warm.

With a gasp, I spun around and was mortified to see that I had just ground my ass onto my new boss's thigh. "Mr. Ryan, I'm so sorry!"

Bennett did not look amused.

In an attempt to ease the tension, Angela stood and extended her hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Angela Weber, Emmett's assistant."

He simply glanced at her hand without returning the gesture and raised one of his perfect eyebrows.

"Pardon me, Ms. Weber. Don't you mean Mr. Ryan?"

Her hand slowly fell as she watched him, obviously flustered. Something about his physical presence was so intimidating, she was at a loss for words for a moment. When she recovered, she stuttered, "Well… we are fairly casual around the office here. We're all on a first name basis. This is your assistant, Chloe."

His eyes met mine sternly as he nodded. "Ms. Mills. You will refer to me as Mr. Ryan. And I expect you in my office in five minutes so that we may discuss proper workplace decorum." His voice was serious when he spoke, and he nodded curtly to Angela. "Ms. Weber."

His gaze held mine for another moment before he turned on his heel to stalk back to his office, and I watched in horror as the first of his infamous door slams took place.

"What. A. Bastard," Angela mumbled between tight lips.

"Beautiful Bastard," I replied, still in somewhat of a trance from his eyes.

I nervously made my way to his office door with a cup of coffee, made just the way he liked it per his email last week. My knock was followed by an abrupt 'come in', and I willed my hands to stop shaking long enough to enter the room. I curved my lips into a friendly smile, intent on making a better impression this time, and opened the door to hear him talking on the phone and writing furiously on the pad in front of him. My breath halted when I heard his smooth deep, voice speaking in flawless French.

"Ce sera parfait. Merci, mon ami," He ended the call, but never lifted his eyes from his papers to greet me. Once I was standing in front of his desk, he addressed me in the same stern tone as before. "In the future, Ms. Mills; you will keep all non-workplace related conversations outside of the office. We are paying you to work, not gossip. Do I make myself clear?"

I stood speechless for a moment until he lifted his emerald eyes to meet mine, cocking an eyebrow. I shook myself out of my trance, all at once realizing the truth about Bennett Ryan. Although he was even more breathtakingly gorgeous in person, he was not at all like I had imagined. And he was absolutely nothing like his parents and brother.

"Crystal… sir," I stammered as I walked around his desk to set his coffee in front of him. But just as I was about to reach his desk, my heel caught on the rug and I lunged forward. I heard a loud Shit! escape his lips; the coffee now nothing more than a scorching stain on his expensive suit. "Oh my god, Mr. Ryan, I am so sorry!"

I rushed over to the sink in his bathroom to grab a towel, and ran back, falling to my knees in front of him and attempting to lift the stain. In my hurry and ultimate humiliation that I didn't think could get any worse; it suddenly occurred to me that I was furiously rubbing the towel against his crotch. I averted my eyes and hand, feeling the heated flush of my face spread all the way to my neck as I caught a glimpse of the noticeable bulge in the front of his pants.

"You may leave now, Ms. Mills," he uttered in a tight tone, and I quickly nodded, rushing out of the office. That had most definitely not gone to plan. And I couldn't believe I had made such a horrible first impression.

Thankfully I had proven myself pretty quickly after that. There were times when even he seemed impressed with me, although he always seemed to be short and on edge. I just chocked it up to his being a giant ass, but had always wondered if there was something specific about me that rubbed him the wrong way. Besides that towel, of course.

By the time I was done with my trip down memory lane hell, it was 5:45. Wonderful, just in time to get up for work. But even as I showered and let the warm water loosen my aching muscles, my thoughts were still stuck on why they were in this state.

This really needed to stop. Seriously this time.

When I arrived at work, I bumped into Angela on my way to the elevator. We made plans to have lunch next week and said goodbye as she reached her floor. Arriving at the eighteenth floor, I noticed that Mr. Ryan's office door was closed as usual, so I was unsure if he was here yet. I turned on the computer, and tried to mentally prepare myself for the day. Why did it feel like every time I sat in this chair lately I was filled with a sense of anxiety? I knew I would see him this morning; we went over the schedule for the coming week every Friday. But I was unsure what kind of mood he would be in.

Though recently I noticed his temper tantrums had gotten even worse. Childish little prick.

His last words to me yesterday had been, 'Get the garter belt too'. And I had. In fact, I was wearing it now. Why? I had no idea. What in the hell had he meant by that? Did he think he was going to get the chance to see it? No fucking way. Then why had I worn it? I swear to God if he rips it…I stopped myself before I could finish. That was the most fucked up thing I'd ever thought. Of course he wouldn't rip it. I was never going to give him the chance to rip it. Keep telling yourself that Mills.

Answering some emails and making a few hotel inquiries took my mind off the situation for a bit, and about an hour later his office door opened. Looking up, I was met with a very businesslike and calm Mr. Ryan. No trace remained of the reckless and animalistic man who had taken me in the La Perla dressing room fourteen hours ago.

"Ms. Mills? Are you ready to begin?" He asked coolly.

"Yes sir," I answered in a calm collected voice. Okay, so that's how this was going to play out. Fine by me. I didn't know what I'd been expecting, but was somewhat relieved that things weren't different.

Grabbing my Blackberry, calendar, and notebook; I walked into his office and took a seat opposite his desk. Immediately I began going over the list of tasks and appointments that needed his attention. He listened quietly, jotting things down or entering them into his computer when needed.

"There is a meeting with E.C. Publishing scheduled for 3:00 this afternoon. Your father and brother are also planning to attend. It will probably take up the rest of the afternoon, so the rest of today's calendar has been cleared." Eventually, we got to the part I had been dreading. "We also have the IABC Financial Communication Workshops coming up in Seattle next month," I said quickly; suddenly becoming interested in what I was writing in my calendar. The pause that followed seemed to drag forever, and I glanced up to see what was taking so long. He was staring at me, a pen in hand tapping on the desk and his face completely void of any expression.

"Is that something you will be accompanying me to?" he asked in a flat tone.

"Yes." The silence in the room was deafening. I had no idea what he was thinking, not a trace of emotion in his voice or mannerisMs. "Make all the necessary arrangements," he said with an air of finality as he resumed typing on his computer. Prick. Assuming I had been dismissed, I stood from my chair and began walking towards the door.

"Ms. Mills," I turned to look at him, and even though he didn't meet my gaze, he almost seemed nervous. Well, that was different. "My mother has asked me to extend an invitation to you for dinner next week."

"Well please tell her I'll look at my schedule," I said, turning to leave again.

"She's also asked that I encourage you to attend." I halted all movement.

Turning back slowly, I saw he was now staring at me, and he definitely looked uncomfortable. "And why exactly would she do that?"

"Well," he said before clearing his throat. "Apparently she has someone she would like to introduce you to." This was new. I'd known the Ryans for years, but although she might have mentioned a name in passing, she had never actively tried to fix me up with someone.

"Why would your mother be trying to set me up?" I asked walking back towards his desk and folding my arms over my chest.

"I have no idea," he shrugged casually, but something in his face didn't quite fit his nonchalant answer.

"Why don't I believe you?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow. I was beyond curious now. He never looked uncomfortable. Something was going on. Suddenly, his brow furrowed in obvious annoyance.

"How the hell would I know? It's not like we sit around discussing you," he spat out venomously. If it wasn't for the fact that they were obviously planning something, I might have actually found his reaction humorous. "Maybe she's worried that with that sparkling personality of yours you'll end up an old spinster with a house full of cats." Oh no he didn't.

Leaning forward with my palms on his desk I glared at him. "Well maybe she should be more worried that her son will turn into a dirty old man who spends his time hording panties and stalking girls in underwear stores." Check and mate, asshole.

Jumping out of his chair, he leaned toward me, his face furious. "You know, you are the most-" He was cut off as the phone rang. We stared fiercely at each other from across the desk, both of us breathing heavily and for a moment I thought he would throw me down on it… and for another moment I wanted him to. God I was disgusting. Still glaring at me, he roughly reached for the phone.

"Yes," he barked out sharply into the receiver, his eyes never leaving mine, and then he pressed the phone to his chest. "That is all, Ms. Mills." Grabbing my things, I turned quickly and closed the door a bit harder than necessary behind me.

For the rest of the morning and early afternoon, Mr. Ryan stomped in and out of the office, slamming doors and being his usual charming self. By 2:00, I was inwardly weighing the risks of a personal injury suit if I was caught putting X-Lax in his precious non-fat-no-sugar peppermint mocha latte.

Looking at the time, I decided against it. I also noticed I had a text message from Mr. Wonderful himself, informing me that he would meet me downstairs in the parking garage to head downtown.

Thank God the other executives and their assistants would be going. If I had to sit in a limo with that man alone for twenty minutes, there were only two possible outcomes. And only one of them left him with his balls intact.

The limo was waiting right outside, and as I made my way to it our driver smiled widely to me and opened the door. "Good afternoon, Ms. Mills. How are you on this beautiful spring afternoon?"

"I'm wonderful, Jeffrey. How's school going?" I smiled back. Jeffrey was my favorite driver, and although he had a tendency to be a bit of a flirt, he always made me smile.

"Oh it's going great. I'm having a bit of trouble in my physics class, but other than that it's fine. Too bad you aren't a scientist, maybe you could tutor me," he said jokingly, wiggling his eyebrows.

"If you two are finished, we actually have somewhere important to be. Maybe you can flirt with Ms. Mills on your own time, Mr. Davis." Mr. Ryan was apparently already inside waiting for me, and he glared at the two of us as he retreated back into the car . Great. I grinned and rolled my eyes at Jeffrey before stepping inside.

Aside from Mr. Ryan, the car was empty, and when I heard the engine start and we began pulling away I became worried. "Where are the others?" I asked confused.

"They had a dinner meeting after and will meet us there," he responded while busying himself with his laptop. Looking down, I noticed that he was nervously tapping his foot. Okay, I could be wrong but something was definitely up.

Sitting on the seat opposite him, I eyed him suspiciously. He didn't look any different. In fact, he looked sexier than hell. He was wearing a perfectly cut designer suit in a deep chocolate brown, an expensive dress shirt in the same color and a beautiful striped silk tie. His hair was its usual sexy mess and as he absentmindedly lifted his left hand up to his mouth and put his gold pen between his pouty lips. I actually had to shift in my seat a bit to ease a bit of discomfort that was building.

When he suddenly looked up, the smirk on his face let me know I had been caught ogling him. "See something you like, Ms. Mills?" he asked mockingly.

"Not really," I replied back with a smirk of my own. And just because I knew it would get to him, I purposely recrossed my legs, making sure my skirt rode up a bit more than was appropriate. The scowl was back in an instant. Mission accomplished.

The eighteen and a half minutes left of our twenty minute drive were spent trading dirty looks across the car while I tried to pretend I wasn't fantasizing about having his pretty head between my legs.

Needless to say, by the time we got there, I was in a bad mood. Neither of us said a word during the elevator ride upstairs, and the tension did not go unnoticed by either of us. God, I didn't think I'd ever felt so constantly worked up. I wondered briefly if this was what it was like to be a guy. If it was… well, damn.

The next three hours passed at a snail's pace. The other Ryans arrived and introductions were made all around. A particularly striking woman named Moira seemed to take an immediate interest in Mr. Ryan. She was in her early thirties with a short dark bob, luminous dark eyes, and a body to die for.

And of course the panty dropping smile was in full force today as he nearly charmed her unconscious.

Everyone convened in a large board room to begin the meeting, and I really tried to pay attention; but memories of another conference table kept entering my mind. At one point, Mr. Ryan stood at the head of the table going over some numbers on a spreadsheet, and made a point to ask me a question when I obviously wasn't paying attention. I swear I could have killed him right there. The look on his face let me know he knew exactly what I was thinking. He was pure evil. Part of me wanted to ask Esme if there were satanic drawings on the wall and people chanting in the room when he was born. I spent the rest of the meeting shooting mental daggers at his balls and groaning internally as I realized we still had the twenty minute car ride to look forward to.

When we walked back into the office at the end of the day, after an even more tense drive back, it still seemed like Mr. Ryan had something to say. And if he didn't do it soon, I was going to explode. I swear to God, when I wanted him to be quiet he couldn't keep his shit mouth shut. But when I needed him to say something, he became a mute. A sense of deja vu and dread filled me as we made our way through the semi-deserted building and toward the elevator. The second those gold doors closed I wished I were anywhere but standing next to him. Did it feel like there was suddenly less oxygen in here? Glancing at his reflection in the polished brass doors, it was hard to tell how he felt. Other than the constant clenching of his jaw and his downcast eyes, he looked completely cool. Bastard.

Reaching the eighteenth floor, I let out a deep breath I hadn't realized I was holding. That had to have been the longest forty-two seconds of my life. I followed him through the door, trying to keep my eyes off of him as he quickly entered his own office. But to my surprise, he didn't close the door behind him. He always closed his door. I made quick work of checking for messages and wrapping up a few last minute details before I could leave for the weekend. I don't think I'd ever been in more of a hurry to get out of here. Well, that wasn't exactly true. The last time we were alone on this floor I had made a pretty quick getaway. Shit, if there was ever a time to not think about that, it would be now, in the empty office. Just me and him.

He left his office right as I was gathering my things, placing an ivory envelope on my desk and continuing to the door without pausing. What the hell was this? Quickly opening the envelope I saw my name on several pieces of elegant ivory paper. It was paperwork for a private credit account at La Perla, with Mr. Bennett Ryan as the account holder. Holy shit. He opened me a credit account?

"What the fuck is this?" I seethed, jumping from my chair and turning to face him. "You opened me a line of credit?" I was absolutely livid. How dare he?

Stopping midstride and hesitating slightly, he turned to face me. "I made a phone call today, and arranged for you to purchase whatever you… need. There's no limit on the account," he stated flatly, having wiped all trace of discomfort from his face. This is why he was such a master at what he did.

He had an uncanny ability to regain control of any situation. But did he honestly think he could control me?

"So you arranged," I said, shaking my head and trying to keep some semblance of calm, "to buy me underwear."

"Well, just to replace the things that I…" he stopped, possibly rethinking his response. "The things that have been damaged. If you don't want it, don't fucking use it," he said angrily turning to leave again.

"You fucking son of a bitch." I moved to stand in front of him, the crisp stationary now a mangled ball of paper in my clenched fist. "Do you think this is funny? Do you think I'm some plaything you can just dress up for your amusement?" I didn't know who I was angrier with: him for thinking of me that way, or me for allowing this thing to start in the first place.

He scoffed, "Oh yes, Ms. Mills. I find this absolutely hilarious."

I knew this was headed somewhere dangerous and had to get the hell out of there before I did something I would regret. "Take this and shove it up your ass." I shoved the papers into his chest and grabbed my purse. Glaring at him fiercely, I sneered, "I am not your whore, Mr. Ryan." Pushing him aside, I literally sprinted to the elevator. Fucking egotistical womanizing ass. Logically I knew that he hadn't meant to insult me; at least I hoped not. But this? This was exactly why you don't fuck your boss. God, I guess I missed that during orientation.

"Ms. Mills!" he shouted, but I ignored him and stepped into the lift. Come on, I said to myself as I repeatedly pushed the button for the parking garage. His face appeared just as the doors closed and I smiled to myself as I flipped him off. Real mature, Chloe.

"Shit. Shit. Shit!" I yelled into the empty elevator, practically stomping my feet. That was it. No more. He might be hotter than hell and have a dick that makes my body sing, but I was out of this fucking sick situation. That bastard had ripped his last pair of panties.

The elevator chimed, signaling that I'd reached the garage, muttering to myself I made my way to my car. The garage was dimly lit and I was one of the only cars left on this level, but I was too furious to even give it a second thought. I'd hate to see the unlucky prick who dared mess with me right now.

Just as that thought entered my mind, I heard the stairwell door burst open and Mr. Ryan call out from behind me. Just perfect.

"Holy shit! Will you fucking wait?" he shouted. It did not escape my attention that he was out of breath. I guess sprinting down eighteen flights of stairs would do that to a person.

Unlocking my car, I jerked open the door, throwing my purse onto the passenger seat. "What the fuck do you want, Ryan?"

"Will you just give me a minute? God, can you take it out of bitch mode for two shit seconds and listen to me?" he panted.

I spun around to face him. "Do you think I'm some kind of fucking toy?" A million different emotions flashed across his face; anger, shock, confusion, hate; and fuck me if he didn't look delicious. His tie was loosened, his hair a fucking mess and the bead of sweat running down the side of his jaw was not helping the situation. I was pissed dammit! Why is it that even with everything going on, I couldn't stop picturing him bending me over his desk?

Keeping a careful distance with one hand pushed into his hair he smirked and shook his head. "Shit," he hissed, looking around the garage. "You think you're my toy? Fuck, it was just in case…" He stopped, trying to organize his thoughts.

"What? You think it's actually going to happen again?" I said, unable to hide the disgust from my voice.

"God no!" he shouted, the sound echoing off the cement walls. "Maybe I'm just sick of you being such a cocktease and then handing me receipts," he added, glaring at me and waiting for some kind of response. The rage was coursing through me so strongly that before I could stop myself, I stepped forward and slapped him hard across the face. With a shocked and furious glare, he reached up and touched the spot where I had struck him.

"Well you don't have to worry about that anymore. You aren't getting anywhere near my panties.

Ever. Again. " It was sick, but even as I said the words, I could feel my nipples hardening.

The silence stretched before us; the sounds of the traffic and the outside world barely registering in my consciousness. "You know," he began with a dark stare, taking a single step towards me. "I've said it before but…I didn't hear you complaining."

Oh that smooth fucker. "In that dressing room." Another step. "When you watched me fuck you." And another. "I didn't hear one thing out of that fucking mouth of yours to convince me you didn't enjoy every minute."

My chest was heaving, and I could feel the cool metal of my car through the thin material of my dress.

Even with my shoes, he still stood a full head above me, and with his head bent, I could feel his warm, moist breath against my hair. All I had to do was look up, and our mouths would meet. "Well, it's not happening again," I hissed through clenched teeth, but each labored breath brought my aching nipples a brief moment of pleasure as they grazed his chest.

"No. Of course not," he answered back, shaking his head softly and moving even closer to me, his hard erection now brushing my stomach. Putting a hand on either side of me, he pressed his hard lean body closer to me, and I had to stifle a groan.

"Maybe," I growled, unsure if I meant to say it aloud or not.

"Just one," he said, his mouth moving achingly closer to mine.

Turning my face up, I sneered into his open mouth. "I fucking hate you."

"I hate this too." Our mouths hovered tauntingly close to each other, our lips barely brushing, each sharing the other's breath. I watched his nostrils flare slightly and just when I thought I would go insane, he took my lower lip roughly between his and pulled me sharply to him. Growling into my mouth, he deepened the kiss and pushed me forcefully against the car. Like last time, he reached up and removed the pins from my hair, letting it fall around us.

Our kisses were teasing and rough; coming together and pulling apart, hands fisting in hair and tongues sliding against each other. I gasped as he bent his knees slightly, bringing his hard cock roughly against me. "God," I moaned in a raspy breath, wrapping my leg around him, the heel of my shoe digging into his leg.

"Fuck, I know," he breathed heavily into my mouth. Looking down at my leg and cupping my ass with his hand, he gave it a rough squeeze and teased, "Have I told you how fucking hot those shoes are?

Such a naughty little girl, with a little bow on her fuck me shoes? Such a little tease." I instantly felt another wave of arousal flood through me, and my panties became even wetter. I should slap him again for saying things like that to me; but when he said it in that deep whispered voice, it only made me want him more.

"Oh yea, asshole? Well there's another bow somewhere else but you'll need some luck finding it," I snarled back, my mouth against his ear.

He pulled away, his lust filled eyes meeting mine. "Get in the fucking car," his voice rumbled deep in his throat as he pulled the door open roughly.

I stood glaring at him, willing rational thought to penetrate my clouded brain. What should I do?

What did I want? Could I just let him have my body like this again? Fuck. I was so overpowered with the emotions coursing through me that I was trembling. Rational thought was quickly abandoning me as I felt his hand run up my neck and into my hair. Gripping it tightly he jerked my head towards him and stared into my eyes. "Now." I knew in that moment, I was fighting a losing battle. As much as I tried to deny it, my body was his.

The decision was made, and once again I wrapped his silk tie around my wrist, pulling him into the backseat. Once the door closed behind him, he wasted no time tearing off his jacket and going straight for the ties on the front of my dress. I groaned as I felt him part the material and run his hands across my bare skin. Pushing me back to lie on the cool leather and kneeling between my legs, he placed his palm between my breasts, slowly moving down my abdomen to the white lace garter belt. His fingers ran down the delicate ribbons to the edge of my stockings and back up again, moving to run across the edge of my panties. The muscles of my abdomen clenched with every movement and I tried to control my breathing. Fingering the tiny white bows he looked up at me, "Luck has nothing to do with it." Fuck. Me.

I pulled him to me by his shirt and slid my tongue into his mouth, groaning as his palm pressed against my aching pussy, causing the lace to rub across my clit. Our lips searched; our kisses long and deep, gaining urgency with every inch of skin uncovered. My hands pulled his shirt from his pants and explored his muscular arms, and carved chest, leaving a trail of goose bumps in my wake. I needed him undressed, my only thought being that I wanted him naked and above me.

Wanting to tease him the way he was teasing me, I ran my nails down his abdomen, across his belt and to the rock hard bulge now straining against his pants.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned into my mouth. "You don't know what you're doing to me."

"Tell me," I whispered back. "Tell me and I'll give you what you want." I was using his own words against him, and just knowing the tables were somehow turned for the moment spurred me on. "Tell me what you want, you little tease."

"Fuck!" he moaned and bit his lip, his forehead pressed against mine as he shuttered. "I want you to fuck me," he growled out. Then pulling back to look at me, pure loathing twisting his features, he added, "And I fucking hate you for it." His hands were shaking as he gripped my new panties in his fist; and as insane as it was, I wanted him to rip them. The raw passion between us was unlike anything I'd ever experienced, and if this was the last time I would feel this, I didn't want him holding back. Without another word, he tore them from me, the pain of the fabric pulling across my skin only adding to the pleasure.

"You want me to fuck you huh?" I sneered, pulling my leg forward and pushing him back and off me.

Sitting up I shoved him against the seat back and straddled his lap. Gripping his shirt in my hands, I pulled it open roughly, sending the buttons scattering along the seat.

"You fucking bitch," he spit out at me. I quickly pulled my dress off my shoulders and cut him off by crashing my mouth onto his. His hands gripped me roughly pulling my hips against him.

My senses were overwhelmed, and I knew I couldn't last much longer. I wanted him inside me so badly, I was throbbing for it. I was lost to everything but him and this. The feel of the air against my skin, the ragged sounds of our breathing, the heat of his kiss, and the thought of what was ahead.

With frantic hands I undid his belt and pants, and with his help managed to get them down his legs.

Settling over him he brushed against me; the tip of his cock grazing my entrance. I pulled his hair forcing his eyes to meet mine and slid onto him.

"Oh, God!" I groaned, the sensation of him within my body only causing the ache to intensify. Lifting my hips, I began to ride him, each movement feeling more intense than the one before. The pain from his rough fingertips on my hips only fueled my lust. His eyes were closed and his moans were muffled against my breast. Moving his lips across my lace bra he pulled one cup down, and took my hardened nipple between his teeth. I gripped his hair tightly and elicited a moan from him, his mouth opening and taking my aching breast inside

With each thrust I lost more of my resolve. My body was so in tune with him; it reacted to his every look and touch and sound. I both hated and loved how he made me feel. I'd never been one to lose control, but the responses he elicited from my body could no longer be denied.

"Do you like it?" I taunted. "How do you like being fucked with, little tease?"

He gripped my hips tighter halting my movements and stared up at me. "You just don't know when to shut that pretty little mouth of yours, do you?" he snarled with a glare. And as I raised my hand to smack him again, he caught me by the wrist and shook his head. "You want to see being fucked with?"

Before I could answer he lifted me off and roughly threw me down onto the seat. Pushing my legs apart he plunged into me. I moaned loudly as he began driving into me. My car was too small for this, but there was nothing that could have stopped us now. Even with his legs bent awkwardly below him and with my arms braced above me to protect my head from the door, the pleasure was overwhelming.

Pulling himself onto his knees, and into a more comfortable position, he picked up one of my legs and placed it over his shoulder, forcing his cock deeper inside me. "Oh God, yes," I panted.

"Yes?" he groaned out, lifting my other leg to rest across his other shoulder. Reaching out he gripped the door frame and used it for leverage to deepen his thrusts. "Is that how you like it?" The change in angle caused me to gasp, as the most delicious sensations spread throughout my body.

With my hands pushing off the door, I lifted my hips off the seat to meet each motion of his hips. "Oh fuck, yes. Harder," I moaned loudly.

"Fuck," he murmured as he turned his head slightly; his open mouth leaving wet kisses up and down my leg. By now our bodies were glistening with sweat, the windows were completely fogged up and our groans filled the silent space of the car. The dim glow from the garage lights emphasized every carved indentation and muscle of the masterpiece above me. I watched him in awe; his body was straining with the effort, his hair mussed and sticking to his damp forehead, the tendons in his neck pulled tight, and he was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Ducking his head between his outstretched arms, he met my eyes for a brief moment. Our gazes locked and our breaths were coming out in gasps; we were both close. Closing his eyes tightly he shook his head. "Oh God," he panted. "Fuck… I can't stop."

"Me either," I gasped, mirroring his look of desperation. Lifting my head up off the seat, I placed a hand on each side of his face and pulled his lips to mine in a searing kiss. Every nerve in my body was begging for release and each rough plunge of his rigid cock inside me pushed me closer to the edge.

For one brief moment I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to have his body whenever I wanted, having him in my bed fucking me with wild abandon. The thought alone was enough to send an explosion ricocheting through me and I gripped his hair tightly.

"Aaghh…Fuck!" I screamed, my back arching off the seat and my pussy clenching hard around him.

"God…Fuck!…Fuck!" His voice was deep and raspy and with one last powerful thrust he tensed above me, his dick pulsing as he came. Exhausted and shaking, he removed my legs from his shoulders, gently placing them on the seat beside his hips and collapsing with his face against my neck. I couldn't resist the urge to run my trembling hands through his damp hair one last time as we lay there panting, his heart racing against my chest. A million thoughts raced through my mind as the minutes passed. Slowly our breathing calmed and I almost thought he had fallen asleep when he moved his head away.

My sweaty body was instantly chilled as he pulled away from me and started getting dressed. I watched him for a moment before sitting up and putting on my dress. This was the most passionate thing I'd ever experienced. The sex between us was more intense than I knew possible. I felt completely drawn to him physically, but that was it. How could I want someone so much sexually and want nothing to do with them in any other way?

"This can't happen again." He said, startling me from my own thoughts. I turned to look at him; he was shrugging on his torn shirt, his eyes fixed straight ahead, his jaw clenched tight. Moments passed before he turned to look at me. "Do we understand each other, Ms. Mills?" I knew what I had to do.

"Tell Esme I'll be there, Mr. Ryan. And get the hell out of my car."