Passions & Pleasures: A Collection Of Short Fiction

The One That Got Away (Pt 2/?)

    "I anticipated this moment would come a bit further into your training," said Christian, "but I suppose this evening is as good a time as any to conduct your first lesson."
    Her brows drew together in question as she looked across the car at him, her core throbbing, clenching, her inner thighs growing wet with unrestrained arousal.
    Damn it, why couldn't he let her keep her panties on?
    With a hard swallow and a rather uncomfortable clear of her throat, she shifted in her seat, attempting to cross one leg over the other and for the life of her, keep from making a mess on his expensive leather interior. "What do you mean, sir?"
    "We are going to be working on your manners this evening, my dear. You will learn how to walk, learn how to talk but more importantly, learn how to conduct yourself as a proper young lady when you are out in public. I will be surrounded by many of my colleagues, some of whom I answer to on occasion and since I have a reputation to protect in my profession, it is essential that I make a good impression. Whether you are aware of it or not, you are an extension of me, therefore I expect you to be on your very best behavior."
    She couldn't wear panties and yet, he still wanted her to conduct herself as a "proper young lady"? A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing. "Even without panties?"
    "Yes! Even without panties. Try thinking of it as an extra challenge."
    "An extra challenge?" She snickered. "Oh god." The smile on her face instantly vanished when he cast a glare in her direction, clearly indicating that he meant business. "Sorry...sir!"
    He heaved a deep and irritable sigh, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter as he focused his attention back on the road. "If you find this so amusing, I'm fairly certain I can come up with another challenge for you this evening, one that I guarantee you will not be."
    She froze, her eyes widening in horror with a stiff shake of her head. "No, sir. That's OK, I'll--I-I mean this will be OK."
    "That's what I thought."
    The car fell quiet as he continued toward their destination. Releasing the breath she hadn't realized she was holding in, she leaned forward and pulled her purse from the floorboard. She froze, realizing how stupid the bright hulking thing would look, not only on her arm but with her dress. Worst of all, she had no pockets to stow her things in. "Shit."
    "And that!" He snapped, startling and pointing a firm finger at her. "I better not hear that language out of you either or so help me God, I will take you into the restroom and personally wash your mouth out with soap. Is that clear?"
    Amy scowled, her stomach turning at the thought but nodded her head in understanding. "Crystal clear, sir. I'm sorry, I just realized that I brought the wrong purse. I can't take this thing in. I'll look stupid and it'll totally clash with my dress."
    He stole a glance at the object with a furrowed brow. "Don't you have some kind of a clutch?"
    "No, sir, I don't."
    He sighed deeply.
    "Maybe a tiny little purse that goes across my body, but I didn't bother looking for it. I don't even know if I brought it to your place with my other stuff. It might be back at Courtney's."
    "Is it absolutely imperative that you have it with you? You are a guest, my dear. The only items you should have in your possession are your wallet and granted there's an emergency, your phone. What more could you possibly need?"
    "Good point." She pulled out those two objects and returned the purse to the floor. "But like I said, I have no pockets for them. I'd stuff them both in my bra but..." Her voice trailed off and she leaned back as he quickly pulled into the crowded parking lot of the Burbank Marriott hotel. If he hadn't ordered her to pull her seat belt on before they left the house, she might have gone flying into his lap. Not that she would mind, but her ass would probably be red as a beet before he allowed her to return to her seat.
    A couple minutes later, he pulled into one of the few vacant parking spaces that surrounded the building. "You will not stuff them in your bra." He engaged the parking break and shut off the engine. "That is highly unfit for a lady. I will hold onto them for you." He held out his hand with an expectant expression.
    Gingerly, she handed him her pink Dooney & Bourke wallet, watching him tuck it under his suit jacket but clutched her phone protectively to her chest. "I'll h--"
    "Give it to me." He commanded.
    "I can find a place for it," she reassured him.