On His Desk by Mia Faye

Prologue

ELIZA

 

One Year Ago

The music was pumping - hard, fun, fast. Lights were spinning, but really it might have just been my head; I never drank as much as I did that night. But damn it all to hell, I was throwing caution to the wind. Tired of being Elizabeth Piquel, the boring accountant who did all the sensible things, I needed to party. I was a pretty girl, the kind you’d see on a cereal box selling moderately healthy breakfast foods to equally mildly health-conscious cereal consumers. I was someone you could pass by. Pretty, but not stop the world, end a war, pretty. So, at Ophelia and Asher’s Legende Party, a massive bash thrown every year to celebrate their anniversary, I let my crazy fly.

Ophelia had been my roommate for a while before she met the billionaire storage entrepreneur turned club owner, influencer, doting husband, and father. Harper, my best friend and college roommate, had just found her happily ever after with Reid, a local senator, which left little ol’ me sitting there drinking that night’s specialty cocktail.

“Oh my God, I am so drunk my drunk is drunk. Why did you leave me, Harper? I can’t be left alone. See, I make such bad choices.” I flopped into the chair beside Harper and Reid in a cozy dark corner of the club.

“You make amazing choices! You just drank too much of the famous Andromeda Fire on the rocks. It has absinthe in it, and that can really sneak up on you. Here, have some water ... drink the whole glass,” Harper said as I guzzled the glass before me.

When I absentmindedly finished, it made me feel woozy, like I was in an alternate universe.

“Maybe I should just go home and pass out on the couch,” I complained, seeing all the other people in the room paired up.

“Don’t. Ophelia slept on that couch for a year; it’s a beast.” Harper laughed as she tipped the water glass back up to my lips.

“Or, I can sleep in his bed.” My eyes wandered over to a tall, sexy man wearing designer jeans tucked into cowboy boots.

It was a weird look for DC, so I figured he wasn’t from anywhere local. As soon as Reid got up to shake his hand, my whole body was electrified. He knew the tall, dark stranger.

“Andre,” Reid was kind and welcoming. “Join us.” He then turned to us at the table. “This is my wife Harper,” Reid said, nodding to Harper, who was sitting beside me. “And her friend Pickle.” That made both Reid and Tall-Dark-and-Handsome laugh.

“Pickle?” The stranger’s face curled into a sexy frown.

“It’s actually Piquel, as in Pee-Kale, but everyone thinks it’s funny to call me Pickle so it stuck. I’m Eliza, short for Elizabeth.” I did my best to stand up and shake his hand, but found when I did the room spun all the more. I realized that instead of shaking my hand, he was gently holding me up. I offered an awkward smile.

“Nice to meet you, Eliza. I’m Andre, short for nothing.” His eyes smoldered, and I could feel myself getting wet and instantaneously regretting that I wore thong underwear with a too short, too tight dress.

Nothing about the Eliza Piquel Andre met that night was actually me. I had a heavy slather of makeup on that made me look like a supermodel, my hair had been professionally coiffed, and my clothes were almost painted on. My natural look is big brown eyes, the kind you could get lost in, and a tight, delicious body. I loved to walk as a workout and dance, but seriously I could thank my skinny-ass mom for her rockin’ genetics. She was the local beauty pageant winner three years in a row until my dad knocked her up. Boy, I never heard the end of it. I was the reason she was no longer sexy ... whatever. I got her body and my dad’s sensible face; the combination made a pretty mix of boring if not gussied up a bit. That night I was gussied up a lot.

Reid made small talk with Andre, but Andre’s eyes stayed on me. My whole body was on fire. Nothing felt better than that hot stare. He offered to get us drinks and we let him. Soon I was sitting with another wicked beverage in my hand and the dreamy Andre beside me, fully engaged in conversation. I knew better than to actually drink the dangerous libation before me, so I sipped and interjected my two cents when I had something to share. At one point during the night, which was mostly a euphoric haze of memory, Andre and I started dancing. He smelled like expensive booze and rich cologne. We slow danced even to the faster songs. We didn’t talk much, just danced in our quiet corner of the crazy club. I could feel his hardness pressed against my hip as we danced, and soon his arousal and mine were so evident it could no longer be ignored.

“I’m staying at the hotel up the road.” He caressed my face and then leaned in and kissed me with such intense passion.

I tasted him as his mouth was upon me, and I found him quite feral and rough under all that beauty. His kiss was hard and passionate, and I could only imagine that his cock would be the same. All I could think about was the fact that I’d been such a good girl all of my life. I played exactly by the rules and never once walked on the wild side, and so, with his tongue in my mouth and his cologne on my clothes, I committed to doing ‘it,’ whatever it would entail.

“Yes, sure. Let me just tell my friends.” I barely breathed as I got my purse and told the girls I was leaving with Andre.

Both gave me rather surprised looks followed by big-sisterly praises for deciding to dance with danger.

“Just text us if you need us,” Harper said. “But have fun. Reid says Andre’s an upstanding guy, so enjoy your night.” Her voice rose three octaves like she was talking to a three-year-old and I sort of cringed, and yet, it was just what I needed to solidify my resolve.

“I will,” I sing-songed back at her and rushed to join Andre, who already had his coat on and was paying the concierge to get him a taxi.

He leaned in, kissed my forehead, and brought me in for a hug as if we’d been dating for years. As soon as we slid into the back seat of the taxi, he was on me, kissing again.

“I cannot get enough of you,” he confessed as he pulled me onto his lap and we continued to kiss.

My way-too-short skirt rode right up my ass, laying me essentially bare with only my thong panties, so it was pretty much a given that he’d start playing with me the moment I was exposed. He was discreet seeing that we were in a car, and turned me to face him as his hand trailed up my skirt. I’d had sex before, one drunken night at a frat house where I lost my virginity to a guy I couldn’t even remember. It was one of those things where I was in a room with a bunch of people all drunk and stoned off their asses. It was the one other time I was wild. I did go in, at twenty-two years old, fully expecting I’d be losing my virginity. In fact, I was on a quest, so the fact that it happened the way I had planned it was a score in my book. I wanted it, I got it, I hardly remembered it, but I proudly handed in my V-card and entered the realm of sexually active adults pretty damn proud of myself.

The only other time was with a guy I dated in college for a minute, we fooled around a lot, a ton in fact, and when it came time for us to make it to home base, he wasn’t too thrilling. He was pretty small, pretty unskilled, and that was pretty much the end of it. I wanted to date more but just never found anyone that exciting. I wasn’t into any more meaningless stuff; I wanted the real deal but never found it.

I was back to being okay with just sex as I was horny as hell. So, having sexy Andre’s fingers lodged deep inside my dripping pussy was like having professional sex. Metaphorically I’d made it to the majors, no more sleazy nightclubs; I was going for the headliner. It was a blissfully short taxi ride, and before I knew it I was trailing behind him, walking through an ornate lobby with a chandelier, brocade chairs, and very good lighting. He swiped his keycard, and voila, we were in his suite with a view of all of DC.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked as he started to unbutton his shirt, and my pussy tightened.

“Actually, just some water. I think I should slow down a little on the alcohol.” I flashed him a grin as I stood there awkwardly.

He laughed. “Good call.” He went to the minibar and got us two cold bottles of water, opening each of them and handing me one. He then continued to take off his shirt and raised the bottle to me. “Bottoms up, then let’s hit the sheets.”

Shit! Okay.

I chugged my water to the best of my ability and was pretty impressed that I didn’t choke on it. We both finished drinking our water at the same time when Andre strolled over to me.

“Do you want to freshen up first?” he asked as his finger grazed over my nipple.

Freshen up? As in powder? Do my pits and bits? What?

“Um ... sure.” I shrugged my shoulders, and his look turned feral.

“May I?” he asked as he bent over to lift the hem of my skirt.

“Um ... sure,” I said a little quieter as he whipped my dress off, leaving me in my thong underwear and a push-up bra.

“Fuck, I love your tits.” He unsnapped my bra off, which clasped in the front, and dove ... literally dove for my breasts.

Perhaps he was a little drunk, too, though I doubted it. He sucked hard on my nipple while pinching the other; he was very enthusiastic like he wanted me bad. He then slapped my ass.

“Come on, let’s get in the shower. I gotta wash this DC grime and travel off me before I get to lovin’ on you.”

He had a fun way of talking, sexy, manly, dominant ... Um, yes, sir! At that point there wasn’t much of me left to undress. I stepped out of my thong, and he threw off his jeans, revealing a very hard erection saluting the air. It was thick, long, veiny, and had a hot purpling tip that seemed to be begging for sex. He stroked himself a little, not to harden himself any more because the man was jutting out stick straight, but I think he was rather proud of his package as he stroked himself and laughed.

“You ready for this, darling?” he asked in a sweet tone of voice.

“Wow, I am not sure.” And I wasn’t.

I’d never seen anything so impressive in my life.

“Don’t worry, I’m a good driver … you’re gonna love the feel of this inside of you. Come on, let’s get all hot and bothered.” He shuttled me into the bathroom, and I just thanked God I’d shaved and trimmed everything.

I was fresh and ready for whatever he had to offer. I was going to go the distance, no turning back. Elizabeth Piquel was having a one-night stand ... gloriously adult and consenting. I had my IUD firmly planted and was ready for a whole night of fun. He shimmied up behind me as he turned on the water and stabbed my ass with his love spear. The idea of it made me laugh as I rounded my hand behind me and grabbed it.

“So are we just divin’ in here? I mean, I’m fully consenting to have sex with you,” I said, and then asked, “but are you sure you even know my name?”

He kissed my neck and fondled my tits again. “Elizabeth Piquel, but everyone calls you Pickle, and you don’t like it, so I’ll call you Eliza.”

Holy fuck, I was in love. We kissed and fondled but mostly showered in the shower. He lathered and soaped me up, spending a lot of time on my pussy and my ass, and I did the same, spending a ton of time greasing up the gear shift.

“Ah, ah, ah.” He stopped my hand’s pumping. “Better slow your roll; I don’t want to cum in the shower.” He took the showerhead off the holder and rinsed us both off. “So let’s talk birth control. What are we working with?”

“I’m good. I’ve got an IUD, and I’m not due for a new one until next year, so um ... you can wear a condom or not.”

“I’m free and clear, just had a nice clean bill of health last week so… After you, madam,” he said as we stepped out of the shower.

We barely got ourselves dry before we were on the bed kissing, with his hands spreading out my pussy lips so that he could dive his finger into my wetness. His insistent fingers really worked me into a frenzy, but when his thumb pressed hard into my clit, I burst all over him. It was more of a stress orgasm than a euphoric one, but I’d take it. I guess my panting and whining was his cue to ram it on in cause in one hard thrust he was inside me, and my world blew apart.

“Oh my God,” I blathered, feeling so full of him with a pinchy ache at the back of my vagina that just needed more of everything. He had a monster cock and everything hurt as it went in, but also felt so damn good.

“I’ve been dreaming all night of doing that! Fuck, Eliza.”

And fuck ... we did.

He had me so rough and so deep I was seeing stars. My legs wrapped around his back as he grunted and came deep inside of me the first time. After that round it was more kissing, but his cock never really deflated. He rolled me onto my tummy and took me from behind, driving his cock into my raw, needy flesh, he lifted himself onto his elbows and pumped me ferociously from behind. I spread my legs out, trying to take as much of him as I could stand, and then he came again, collapsing on me as he did. He dug his fingers into my pussy and pinched my clit, and my sex-crazed brain rocketed to outer space.

After two rough, frenzied fucks we slowed down.

“Damn, Eliza …” He rolled me back onto him and kissed me again with his wilted cock sandwiched on my hot sweaty belly.

“You’re like an animal.” I laughed and snuggled into his chest, wanting to be near his warm body. “I hope I can walk in the morning.”

I wanted to play with him more, but after two vigorous sessions I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I should have at least rinsed all of our crazy love off, but I was just buzzing with him. We both fell asleep pretty fast, and sometime during the middle of the night I got cold and groped for the covers, which I discovered were laying in a heap on the floor. He had his leg flopped over me, and I found it hard to extract myself enough to grab the covers. His body heat was nice, but my ass was freezing. In my attempt to retrieve the comforter he woke up.

“Sorry, I’m cold,” I whispered as I pulled the heavy comforter up from the ground and put it over us.

“Right, yes ... me, too.” He rolled into me so that I could cover him.

I wanted to snuggle up on him again, so I cuddled into his arms which graciously brought me into his embrace ... but we were up, and neither of us really wanted to go back to sleep.

“I want you again,” he confessed in a soft, seductive tone.

“I want you, too, but you’ve made a pretty big mess down there.” I touched myself for emphasis. “I don’t think I can take any more apeman, but if you can be nice and do me softly, I’d be down for that. I like you, Andre.”

He laughed. “Well, you shouldn’t.” He leaned into me and kissed me sweetly. “Nobody does.”

I should have known then.

After that he did have sex with me gently with lots of kissing my breasts, belly ... And his cock was sweet and lovely as he positioned me so that I was riding him, calling the shots, until we both hit the big O together, collapsed on each other, and that was it for the night.

At god awful o’clock in the morning, he shuffled me off of him. I think I heard the shower, but after fucking him three times that night I wasn’t going to get out of bed unless he dragged me out. When I did finally pry myself awake at sunrise, I realized he was gone. There was a note with orange juice and a muffin next to the bed.

Thanks for the fun … Andre.

That was it. No phone number, no text, I didn’t even know where he lived in Texas ... I sort of felt like shit, but that was what I’d signed up for. I thought about staying until he got back, but the note was pretty self-explanatory: thanks for the fun ... and the fun was over.

So, I got dressed, tried to wrangle my hair into something that didn’t look just-fucked, and did the ride of shame home.