Caught by the Boss

27

LEILA

As soon as I walk into the room, my eyes shift to my bags. I know I should pack for the cabin trip, but after that toe-curling kiss, I end up back on the bed.

I unlock my phone and open another incognito tab. And back at it I go, stroking myself and biting my lip as I imagine the pornstars in the video are Hector and I. My eyes haze over, and I lose focus of the video. My phone slips from my hand as the porn video continues to play. The low moans coming from the speaker mix with mine.

The memories of Hector are enough to get me going. I remember his warm lips, his impossibly muscular chest against mine, and the hard cock in his pants that nearly made me beg and embarrass myself. I can still smell him, still feel his fingers caressing me.

I stroke my sex roughly–how I imagine he would fuck me. After all the sexual tension, I'm sure there would be no space for gentleness.

I imagine him tossing me on that table, fucking me beside his precious helmet as it reflects our bodies wildly thrashing. Or maybe he'd fuck me while I wear a helmet and enter a virtual reality office. Pretending that I'm at work while being devoured. No, that's not it. Knowing Hector, though, he would take me to a real office and make the walls tremble as he rams into me.

A soft moan comes from my throat. I bite the back of my hand as my free one strokes my pussy angrily. My body pulses for his touch. It's taking harder to orgasm because now that I've gotten a taste of Hector, I've gotten greedy and want the real thing. Not memories or fantasies.

I bite down as I come, stifling my moan. I continue to fuck myself even as my sex is overloaded with pleasure. Then a second, louder moan rips from my throat like I'm subconsciously hoping Hector hears me and seeks me out.

My sex continues to contract even as I remove my fingers. I wonder if Hector would have pulled his cock out of me after I came, or stayed inside to enjoy my throbbing.

I study my mess on my hand. There are strings of wetness connecting my fingers. I've orgasmed twice, but it's not enough. The frustration in my womb will only be sated by semen.

I stand on shaky legs and go to the bathroom to clean up. As I wash my hands, I notice the bite mark. How pathetic. A week ago I was ready to bury Hector. And now that we've kissed, I'm ready to bury him inside me.

My eyes find the plan B in the basket. The scandalous pill. Maybe I should... No way. I can't fuck him.

I return to the room and pack a few things for the trip. It only takes me a few minutes. I zip up my bag, and find myself going to the bathroom to retrieve the plan B and slipping it into my bag.

I'll take it just in case I have a moment of weakness...

I sit on the edge of the bed and touch my lips, remembering Hector's kiss. That man can kiss demons into a woman. That's why there's hell between my legs. No amount of orgasming seems to exhaust the fire. I want him badly.

With a frustrated sigh, I pick up my phone and call my sister. We chat for a while. She's in her own little world, complaining about her annoying roommate.

"Yeah," I agree with her. "Roommates are tough to deal with." My eyes lock on the door as I think of the man walking the halls. The one sleeping in the other bedroom. I wonder if he's in his room, stewing in the same frustrations.

After I end my call with my sister, I pull out the engineering book I found on the nightstand. It's the only book here. At first I thought it would be boring, but then I started to learn a few terms and I figured I might as well finish reading it. Maybe I can learn enough to build a helmet that will erase the memories of Hector's touch.

I fall asleep within minutes, my body exhausted from the flood of hormones. By the time I wake up hours later, it's late. I sneak into the kitchen and find that Hector is still in his office.

I tell myself I don't want to disturb him, but honestly don't have the bravery to face him yet.

Since I skipped dinner, I grab a banana and return to my room where I pick up my book and occasionally glance at the packed bag on the floor.

– • –

The next morning, Hector and I have an awkward breakfast. I practically jumped out of my skin when he passed me a fork and our fingers touched. I curled them tightly around the utensil, afraid he could smell yesterday's activities on my fingers.

How humiliating would it be if he knew I've been masturbating since I got here?

He goes into his room and returns with two heavy duffle bags.

"Those things are massive," I say. "Don't tell me Grace's crazy ass is hiding in there?"

We laugh and smile at each other for a few seconds before we both dive for the bags. I rush off my chair and kneel. I pull one zipper, looking for red hair. Thankfully, his duffle bags are Grace-free. There are only two helmets and other technical equipment in here: I guess he wants to do some work while at the cabin. His other bag has clothes.

"Great. There is no sign of crazy in here," he says as he zips the bags.

I smile. "It's great to have someone to share my trauma with."

He offers me a hand and helps me stand. His thumb strokes the back of my hand, though I'm not sure he realized it. "I'm here if you ever need a shoulder to cry on."

Nope. Those wide, strong shoulders would provide no relief to my aching pussy. They would only distress me further.

As a matter of fact...

"You should put on a sweater in case it gets cold," I suggest, trying to put layers between me and those muscles.

He shrugs. "I'll be fine. Are you ready to go?"

I nod mutely, and he bends down to pick up my bag. This surprises me, because I'm not used to small gestures.

I clutch my phone and head for the door. His shadow casts over me and his footsteps are silent. I open the door for him and walk with my head low. The closer we get to the car, the more I regret my decision to come.

I have distractions here: my room, my book, the television. But out in the wilderness, I'll be stripped of those protections and forced to interact with him.

"Are you thinking about the kiss?"

My eyes snap to him. He's not supposed to talk about the kiss.

I clear my throat, not wanting to reveal how much of my thoughts he consumes.

"Not really." There. That reply is cool, calm, and collected.

We reach his car. He opens the trunk and sets our bags inside. I stand beside him, ready to help.

When he closes the trunk, I turn to leave, but his hand slams onto the car. His arm blocks me. I turn, confused, and he swoops in like a storm and kisses me.

I'm only standing because I'm pinned between his red sports car and his chest.

He pulls back after just a few seconds, leaving me slouched against the car.

"There. Now you'll definitely be thinking of my kiss." He chuckles and rests his wide palm on the small of my back. "Let's go."