Page 8 of His Rise

“Yes?”

“Mr. Caine wants you back in the boardroom.”

Krista’s eyes flash. “Take care of yourself, honey.” Then, as she steps out of the car, “I work at the Magazine Street branch. Stop by some afternoon.”

I thank her as the doors close.

Chapter Five

Jackson

I can’t believe it’s taking her so long to come back up to the boardroom. Impatient, irritable, I pace. Back and forth along the windows, up and down the length of the room. The cityscape view usually grounds me.

Seeing the city spread below, it’s like I’m looking at a map of my territory. It lets me plan, plot, and consider what and where I need to conquer next. How to advance my coffee empire.

But now, I'm just angry and impatient.

She’s gotten into my head, fixed herself deep in my mind like an itch I can’t scratch.

I know the symptoms well enough. When it happened before, it was a catastrophe. It can’t happen again. It’s not possible. Not now, not ever.

Henry has a dozen branches with baristas in all of them. I don’t know why he sent you in particular, but I’ll tell him not to send you to represent him again.

That’s what I’ll tell her. She’s too beautiful. No, I won’t tell her that. I know she hears it all the time.

I’m not going to be like any of the men that roll over and beg for her, men that stand close behind her, inhaling the strawberry fragrance of her hair. Men gliding their stiffening cocks against the softness of her more than perfect ass. Connecting, just enough for her to respond. Then pushing to feel the soft warmth of her flesh against a rigid cock, and whisper into her ear, tell her all the things they plan to do to her.

She gets more than enough of all of that, I’ll bet.

I wonder how many men she takes home. How many leering brutes have held that ass and pulled her eager, squirming body against them, peeling her out of her clothes, licking and biting her golden skin. Squeezing and sucking her breasts and feeling the heat between her thighs.

How many men know the taste of her? How many men’s tongues have lashed her inside while their lips press and suck on her lips and her clit? How many pairs of hands have spread her wide, squeezed and lifted the cheeks of her ass to bring the honey pot of her pussy to their greedy mouths?

I want to know the rhythms of her bucking hips, the currents of her trembles and shakes, the sounds of her sighs and moans. Taste and drink the gushes of her climax.

Damn it, I knew this would happen. I shouldn’t have sent instructions for her to return. My pants feel too tight and my balls ache like hell.

I’ll tell Georgiana to send her away. I stride out of the boardroom. My receptionist’s eyes peek up for me immediately. She leans forward as her face tips up and her lips slowly part.

“Yes,” she says on a sighing breath, “what could I do for you, Mr. Caine?” Her voice always lowers over my name. I’ve no idea why. It’s quite irritating.

“Tell that girl,” the elevator bell dings, “Tell her she doesn’t need to come. I don’t need her.”

As the doors slide open, she stands in the golden glow of the car. My eyes are captured by her while I’m still telling Georgiana, “I don’t want to see her.”

Ms. Cyntia Brill stands still in the car, in no hurry. Of course, since she heard what I said, she can simply wait for the doors to slide shut and she can go back down. That’s what she’ll do. I can’t pull my gaze off her curves. Or her eyes. My palms sting, and I realize I’m clenching and balling my fists. My throat is tight.

Her eyes gleam, locked on mine.

The elevator bell dings again.

Her breasts rise. My cock pulses. I hadn’t realized how hard it is. The black skirt flares over her incredible hips as she moves, stepping out of the car just as the doors slide shut.

My pulse races as she strides up to me, bouncing her tits, waving her hips. Moving like a cat.

She says, “Tell her yourself, Joe. Nice to see you, too.”

She’s advancing. I retreat. I can’t be near her, I can’t.

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