His Valentine Treat Page 3

  Charles shakes my hand. A firm shake but not a power play.

  “So you’re the famous Robin Blake.” He smiles.

  “I’m not sure about that.” I laugh.

  “Well, I’ve heard good things about you, Robin. But I hadn’t heard how feisty you are. There are not many people who want my business that would open the conversation with me by making me look like a dick.”

  He doesn’t sound angry. He still sounds kind of amused. I decide to roll with it.

  “That’s because they’re all ass-kissing drones. I’m good at what I do. I don’t need to have my nose up someone’s butt to make them want to work with me,” I say.

  He grins. “And there’s also the fact I was kind of being a dick.”

  “Well, you said it,” I agree with a smile.

  “You know, I have a lot of people I have to pretend to be interested in today, and I like your style. I don’t want you to get lost in the noise. Maybe we could have lunch together tomorrow. I take it you’ve done your research, and you know the brand?”

  I nod.

  “Good. You can give me an idea of what campaign you would put together for us. Nothing too formal, just a brief rundown.”

  I debate it. Lunch tomorrow could be the defining moment between landing the whale or not. It could also be Charles’s way of telling me I have to sleep with him if I want his business. It’s something I’ve never done and never will do. To give the man his dues though, despite his first comment, he seems like a decent enough guy. He’s probably not a sleazebag, and if he is, I only have to walk away. The Beverly Wilshire isn’t the sort of place where people make a scene. Nothing can happen if I walk away.

  “That sounds great.” I smile.

  “Fantastic,” Charles says. “One o’clock out on the patio of the Blvd.”

  The waitress comes back and hands Charles his drink. She holds the other one out to me. I open my mouth to refuse and then I think oh what the hell. I’ve done the hard part. I’ve got a meeting with Charles goddamned Milton. How many people can say they’ve done that?

  I take the glass. Charles raises his glass.

  “To tomorrow,” he says.

  I clink my glass against his.

  “To tomorrow,” I agree.

  He smiles at me and moves away, instantly accosted by the next eager vulture. Charles makes a comment about the suit the man is wearing looking cheap, and I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing out loud. He knows full well that’s a ten-thousand-dollar suit. Just like he knew full well I wasn’t a waitress. It’s a test.

  “I … ummm. Sorry,” the guy Charles is talking to says, blushing profusely.

  Charles rolls his eyes and moves on. I was right. I passed the test, but this guy didn’t. The test isn’t to see who can crawl up his ass and impress him. It’s to see who is strong enough to stand up to him. I decide I rather like him.

  Now that I’ve landed a meeting with Charles, I could slip away. Colin would never know, and even if he found out, he wouldn’t care. If I get Charles, he’ll be happy. I decide that while I seem to be on a roll, I’ll stick around for a bit and see if I can line anything else up.

  I check my cell phone first. A text from Denton waits for me. There’s another photo. His hard-on is still clearly on show. He has balanced a coffee up on it.

  “I’ll keep it warm for you,” the caption reads.

  I laugh to myself. I circulate around the room for a bit. My fake smile makes my cheeks ache, and if I have to have one more conversation where I try to convince an old dinosaur that online influencers are the way forward, I think I’ll die.

  I text Denton again.

  “I need saving from this.”

  I wait for his reply.

  “It’s like one of those bad first dates where you text a friend to get you out of there. Want me to call reception with an ‘emergency’?”

  I am so tempted to say yes, but of course, I don’t. It’s worth a couple of hours of this torture to land some new and exciting clients. Generally, the dinosaurs come to these things to show their faces and drink for free for a day or two without their wives. But the actual work gets handed off to someone who actually understands marketing. And if I wasn’t so fucking horny I wouldn’t be so cynical about it all. I know that on some rational level that’s hiding behind the throbbing between my legs.

  “I think I can cope,” I text back.

  “Okay. How about a joke. Why did the ad executive cross the road?”

  I wait.

  “A potential client told him he liked that side better.”

  I grin and type out a reply.

  “Why did the CEO cross the road?”

  I type out the answer.

  “His PA was over there, and he was lost without her holding his hand.”

  “Touché.”

  Denton and I have a whole host of these cheesy work jokes that we pull out when one of us is stuck at a boring meeting. They are just our way of getting through a boring day.

  “Two ad executives in an elevator. One of them turns to the other one and tells him how he can put together a perfect marketing strategy for his company. The other one listens intently, nodding along. When he gets to the end, the other one says, ‘I can do the same package for 10% cheaper.’”

  I shake my head and laugh. It’s a lame joke, but it’s always funny coming from him. I’m still thinking about what I can say next when my cell phone pings again. Denton has sent me another message.

  “Now how about some real fun. Are you up to a dare?”

  “Always.”

  “Take your panties off and leave them off.”

  A shiver of excitement goes through me. Can I really do that in a room full of people? Especially at a work function? I smile to myself.

  “Done.”

  I head to the bathroom. My clit is throbbing again as I think about how it will feel to share a secret like this with Denton that no one else in the room knows about. It makes me feel wet just thinking about it.

  “Send evidence.”

  I feel a shiver run through me. I go into a stall and slip my panties off. I push them deep down into the bottom of my purse. I pull my dress right up around my hips and prop one leg on the toilet seat. I awkwardly fumble my cell phone into position and take a photograph of my spread legs.

  I send it to Denton before I can back out.

  “Is that enough proof for you?”

  “Fucking hell, Robin, I want you now.”

  I smile. I feel another rush of desire flood me. Why couldn’t he be here with me instead of all of those stuffy old farts.

  “I’ll be thinking of you if I bend over and my skirt rides up an inch or two …”

  “Don’t think too hard. I’d hate there to be a puddle on the ground.”

  He has a point there. I try to stop thinking about him, about what I want to do to him. I try to focus on something other than my semi-nakedness as I walk back out of the bathroom. I don’t have long to adjust my way of thinking. I walk out of the bathroom to find myself instantly pulled into a conversation with a couple of executives I know from these types of events. We talk a bit about the market trends and our current projects, and for a moment, I let myself forget I am pantie-less.

  My cell phone pings, and I excuse myself.

  “Ready for another dare?”

  No.

  “Yes.”

  “Go and talk to a potential client and use the words ‘blue elephant’ without them thinking anything is wrong.”

  I laugh and shake my head.

  “I swear you want me to be fired.”

  “I just have faith in you to be creative. If you were to get fired and were spending all day at home, I’d never get to work.”

  I put my cell phone away and scan the room. I spot my target, a guy standing alone and looking kind of out of place. He isn’t an executive. I’d recognize him if he were, and even if he were new, he wouldn’t look that lost.

  I make my way over to him. I smile an
d stick out my hand.

  “Hi. I’m Robin. First-timer?”

  He shakes my hand and gives me a grateful smile.

  “I’m Dave. Yeah. Is it that obvious?”

  I laugh. “Kind of. You look like I most likely did at my first one.”

  “Overwhelmed and wishing you were somewhere else?” He laughs.

  I nod. “Yeah, pretty much. Don’t worry though, it gets easier. So what brings you here today? Are you looking for a new advertising strategy or are you just scoping out what’s available?”

  “Both. I got brought in to fix someone else’s mess, so you can imagine how much fun I’m having with that. Apparently, the last guy working on the marketing side didn’t really know what he was doing. He hired a friend to shoot our TV ad. On a cell phone.”

  I wince.

  “Ouch. I remember that. You’re from Jacobson Accounting? Yeah, it was a really blue elephant, wasn’t it?”

  “Isn’t the phrase white elephant?” Dave says with a frown.

  “Technically yes, but I prefer blue. The campaign was so damned cold the elephant in the room went blue. You get it?”

  He laughs. “Yes. I like it. Why don’t you give me your card and maybe we can set up a meeting or something?”

  “That would be great,” I say.

  I fish into my purse for a card, being extra careful not to pull out my panties. I hand it to Dave. He thanks me, and I wander off into the crowd. I text Denton.

  “Done it. And scored a potential new client as I did it. You’re going to have to make them harder than this …”

  My cock has been hard since the moment Robin sent me that photo. I thought my eyes would drop out of my head. I was expecting a shot of the actual panties, but instead, I got the most amazing pussy shot. The timing was awkward, to say the least.

  I’m sitting in the back of my limo with a potential client who is talking about redesigning his vacation home. He must be starting to wonder why I am keeping a folder clutched so tightly in my lap. Even when we got out of the car I kept it held in place. Robin just drives me wild. I can’t help it. Just the thought of her pussy makes me crazy with the need to be inside of her.

  The client’s vacation home is out in Beverly Hills, and it’s going to be one hell of a project if we win the job. I forced myself to focus while we toured the house and he gave me some ideas of the kind of things he was looking for: something minimalistic yet soft, not too unlived in looking, but not too feminine. Man, it was hard to concentrate on finishes and soft furnishings when I knew I had that photo sitting in my cell phone.

  The drive out to Beverly Hills has given me an idea though. If Robin can’t be at home for Valentine’s Day, then I’m going to go to her. I can hardly wait for us to reach the client’s house so I can get him out of my limo. I have a need to take care of and then a few calls to make to make tomorrow night happen.

  I’ve set Robin a fun challenge this time instead of a sexy one. I really don’t think I could handle another distraction right now. All I can think about is last night. How she came so hard she almost blacked out. How she felt wrapped around my cock. How she …

  “Are you even listening to me?”

  Oops. Nope.

  “Yes, of course,” I lie. “I was just thinking about how to introduce some softness to your décor without it becoming too overly feminine. I was thinking maybe some silver-gray curtains at the windows.”

  The lie appeases him and he smiles.

  “That sounds great. I’ll just leave it in your expert hands. It sounds like you’ve got it all worked out.”

  “I have,” I agree.

  Another lie. I’m barely able to think straight at all right now. And I’ll now have to work in silver fabric at the windows to whatever design I go for. It looks like I’m setting myself challenges as well as Robin.

  We finally reach the client’s home, and he gets out. I promise to get his proposal over to him by the end of the week. As soon as the door closes, I press the intercom.

  “I don’t want to be disturbed,” I say.

  “Yes, sir,” comes the immediate response.

  I put the screen up and turn off the intercom. I open my zipper, finally letting some of the pressure off my cock. My cell phone vibrates in my pocket. I grin and pull it out. If only Robin knew the state she has me in.

  “Done it. And scored a potential new client as I did it. You’re going to have to make them harder than this …”

  I love how adventurous Robin is and how she’s up for anything. I smile to myself as an idea comes to me, and I tap out my reply.

  “Call me once you’re done for the day. I’m going to make you come so hard. And no cheating. No touching yourself until I say you can.”

  Her response comes in seconds.

  “Deal. But you have to do the same.”

  “Deal.”

  Reluctantly, I zip my pants back up. It’s incredibly uncomfortable, but she’ll be more than worth the wait.

  I shuffle around and adjust my pants a little bit, but it’s no use. There’s only one way I’m going to feel comfortable again, and I’ve just promised Robin I won’t do it. Trying to ignore the pulsing in my cock as I imagine Robin on her bed, naked, waiting to call me, I make a few calls of my own.

  Within half an hour I have booked the Presidential Suite at the Beverly Wilshire for tomorrow night, and I have arranged a very special delivery for Robin.

  Denton’s text message couldn’t have come at a worse moment. I am on my way into the ballroom, which has been converted into a lecture hall for us, as the text comes in. I feel an instant rush of wetness gush from me when I see what he has written. He wants to have phone sex with me.

  I love the idea of it. It’s not something I’ve ever tried. Denton and I have never spent a night apart since we got married. I can’t believe the first time it’s happened to us is over Valentine’s Day. I feel myself getting upset just thinking about it. I tell myself to stop thinking about that and to focus on what’s to come tonight. And to think about how much fun we’ll have when I go back home.

  I sit down in the lecture room, staying toward the back of the room. I can feel that my cheeks are flushed, and I want to stay as inconspicuous as possible.

  The lecture begins. It’s an industry expert who is here to discuss trends, customer acquisitions, and how to keep clients happy and foster long-term relationships with them. The part about the new trends sounds interesting, but the rest? It’s for beginners. It’s something I can do in my sleep. Hell, I could probably get up there and give a lecture on it myself.

  It’s a good thing because no matter how much I try to focus on the lecturer, all I can think about is Denton. How his hands feel on my body, how my pussy craves his touch. How I need him to fill me up and make me whole again. I imagine how it will feel to hear his voice in my ear, telling me what to do to myself. I almost break my promise when I think of that because I almost orgasm right here in my seat.

  I force myself to concentrate on the lecture, telling myself I’m a responsible adult and this is my career. It doesn’t work. All I can think about is what’s to come. Both of us hopefully.

  The very second the lecture is over, I spring up from my seat and practically run to my room. Once I am out of the elevator alone and unwatched, I do start to run. I reach my room out of breath, and it’s not from the running. I quickly take my dress and bra off, leaving them where they fall on the ground, and then I put on the robe I find hanging in the wardrobe. It’s thick and snuggly and I don’t think I ever want to take it off. I think of the phone call I am about to make. Oh, I’ll want to take it off alright.

  I smile to myself and fish my cell phone out of my bag. I pull my panties out of there too while they’re on my mind. I don’t want to forget about them and accidentally pull them out of my purse at some point tomorrow. I go to the bed with my cell phone and lie down, curled up on my side. I call Denton. He doesn’t waste any time with greetings.

  “Are you alone?”
/>
  “Yes, I—”

  “Did you orgasm?” he asks, cutting me off.

  I love it when this side of Denton comes out. The cool authority figure who barks out commands that I must follow in order to climax. It’s so thrilling handing yourself over to someone so completely and being one hundred percent at their disposal.

  “No, I know better than to break the rules.”

  “Good,” he says.

  “Did you?” I ask almost shyly.

  “I’ll be the one asking the questions, Robin,” he says. His tone softens a little. “But no, and it’s been hell.”

  “Same here,” I agree.

  “Oh, Robin, for you, it’s just getting started.”

  The commanding tone is back and I feel a shiver of excitement run through me. My nipples harden and I feel wet between my legs again.

  “What are you wearing, Robin?”

  The way he says my name sends another shiver through me.

  “A robe,” I reply.

  “Take it off.”

  I don’t need telling twice. I am aching with need just from hearing his voice. I sit up and pull my arms out of the robe. I roll to one side and pull it out from underneath me. I switch my cell phone to hands-free and leave it on the bed beside me.

  “Lie on your back,” Denton says. “I want you to imagine me running my hands over your body and then running my fingertips across your nipples.”

  I haven’t been able to think about anything else since last night, so this task is easy.

  “Now act it out. Run your hands over your chest and belly. Not your nipples. Just the smooth skin.”

  I do it, surprised at the goose bumps I feel coming to the surface from my own touch.

  “Now take hold of your nipples and work them,” he says.

  I gasp in a breath as I pinch my nipples in my fingers. They’re so sensitive right now. I don’t stop though. I roll them in my fingers, sending a pulse of painful pleasure through my body. My clit is throbbing so hard it takes everything I have to not ignore Denton’s voice and dive into my pussy.

  “Pull on them,” he says.

  My hands obey his commands almost without me telling them to. I cry out as another spike of pain and longing floods me.