Red

CHAPTER THREE

Rhiannon

I'd spent my whole life being pampered, looked after, 'babied', and treated like a princess. No, fuck that, a queen. I just was never bought the fancy tiara, a castle, and will most likely never find my King.

I will always be treated like an incapable, like I'm some sort of doll that can be ragged around and thrown here, there, and everywhere. I was controlled. By my father and my mother.

"We only want what's best for you dear"

Mom said as they both shut the door in my ex boyfriends face, after telling him I didn't want him anymore. I did. I just couldn't have him.

"You will meet someone proper. A rich man to take care of you my darling" Dad said straight after.

Or the best one yet: "he's not good enough. He's not earning six zeroes" after I asked why I couldn't be caught even speaking to Mr Black. Jesus, I said speaking not marrying.

After I left dads office the yesterday, I went straight to my car to drive home so I could deal with my wet panties. Just one look at Mr Black and I was a goner. He was the hottest guy I'd seen in a while, and my heart almost sprung back to life when I realised he was a lawyer. A great career so my parents would approve, only he still wasn't good enough.

That didn't stop me wanting something though. If I couldn't wake up every morning to the hunk of man, I at least want to do the walk of shame out of his apartment. I've been fantasising all night about what he would look like under that suit, his abs, his biceps, his cock. The latter made a pool of wetness almost drip down my legs. Jesus, I'd have to retort to the ladies bathroom if I didn't stop these thoughts. Last night I didn't even make it home, I'd taunted myself too much that I couldn't wait. Fortunately, there was no one in the parking garage or I'd have probably been caught.

I stifled a giggle at how ridiculous I'd become over a single man. No man had ever made me this shook up with arousal. Yet, despite trying to control my thoughts and libido, I was bent over his desk biting my lip as I stared into slate grey eyes. They were dark and hungry for me.

His large hands were pushing through his thick strands of dark hair, and sweat was forming on his forehead. I made him nervous.

"Hi" I tried my hardest to sound as sexy as possible. Lord knows I didn't need to try, I had him wrapped round every one of my fingers, and my toes too.

I was wearing a low v neck blouse, and the position I was in meant he had full view of what was down my top. I'd purposely wore a white, laced, see-through bra in case I had the pleasure of 'accidentally' bumping into him and being forced to lift my top off and fuck him on his desk. As unlikely as it was, I still felt motivated to wear matching sexy lingerie. Looks like it was worth it.

"Hi" he replied hoarsely, his eyes slightly moving downwards. It sent a tingle straight to my core knowing he was looking.

Maybe it was being brought up in such a conservative household, and being forced to act like a 'lady' that I was against behaving like a sophisticated woman. I could stick my pinky out when drinking tea, where puffy knee-length dresses, and never wear red lipstick - because apparently father hated it - but I still did all the things they hated, and made sure I did the opposite of what they wanted.

The obsessive controlling, and over the top behaviour, is what 'led me astray' as mom would say. Funny thing is, that's just from the way I dress sometimes or the lipstick I wear, if only they knew the side job I worked while completing my degree. They'd hit the roof.

I was a dancer. In a strip club. On a pole. I did it most weekends, and not because I was a slut or a whore as some might call me, but because I felt free. There's nothing more exhilarating or electrifying than being able to do the one thing my parents would one hundred percent disown me for. Something that meant I could show everything I had, every little piece of me that was meant to be covered, and not be told I couldn't do it or looked upon with disgust. Those men - whether they be old or young - look at me like I'm beautiful, like I should be up there doing it, and I've never been looked at like that for doing something seen as so negative. The only time my parents ever look at me with pride is when I dress like a 1960s housewife, and that certainly isn't what I want to be.

I realised we were still staring at each other in silence when I noticed him shift in his seat. The movement had my eyes trailing further south than they should, eyeing the huge - and I mean huge - bulge in his smart black trousers. Black was usually good at hiding stuff like that, but damn he was too big to hide. As if I couldn't get any wetter, I actually thought I felt something trickle down my leg, but it was just a moment of panic from how wet I actually was.

Jesus, Rhi like that would actually happen. idiot.

"What can I help you with?" He asked, and I could see he was trying to get himself under control.

Oh boy, there was a lot you could help me with

But I refrained from saying that, avoiding embarrassment, and instead said "father wants you in his office"

I was shocked he'd even sent me after yesterday, and I'm sure after the time it's took me to tell him and have Mr Black in his office, he will know there was nothing innocent happening in this room. Only, technically there was. From outside it just looked like nothing, two people talking, but here - right now between the two of us - it was clear we were eyeing each other up, fantasising about the other. Yet there was nothing indecent happening.

He stood, buttoning his navy blazer jacket, and stepped towards me. I was perched on the edge of his desk, tits pushed out for emphasis, and biting my lip for added affect, as he breathed against the side of my face.

He waited a few seconds, heavy, laboured breathing, before he said, "We knock here, in case you wasn't aware"

As if the air had been swept completely out of my lungs, I realised then that I'd been holding my breath, waiting in anticipation for something more sinful than a simple, innocent whisper.

But I wouldn't be Miss Rhiannon Red if I didn't straighten my back, put on a fake smile, and pretend I wasn't affected by his sudden closeness and husky voice. So I did.

"Maybe that's what you do, but I don't"

Especially - In fact, only - when there's a hot guy behind the door.

But I abstained from confessing such thoughts, and swayed my way out of the room. Yes, swayed. I made sure his eyes were locked directly on my ass and legs. Ass and legs he wanted to roam his hands over, and I loved every minute of teasing him.