Sedonia Guillone

This time, he has me tied down, wrists and legs. Not tightly enough to hurt but enough that I can’t move. A blindfold covers my eyes and I can’t see a thing. But I can hear him breathing, feel the warm tickle of it against my skin. The bedding underneath me is silky and soft against my naked body.

“Lynn,” he whispers, “I’m going to touch you, just how you like it.”

The mere sound of his voice sends ripples of pleasure through my whole body. He knows just what I want and he’s willing to do it all, even though I’m in his power. My pussy is throbbing and I can feel that it’s already getting really wet—

The loud click of the ladies’ room door made Lynn’s heart jump. She lifted the pen from her journal and closed it. Coffee break wasn’t the primo time to be writing down her sexual fantasies, but the inspiration had hit just at ten o’clock and well, writing about the fantasy man who brought her body to the ultimate heights of bliss was a hell of a lot more interesting than writing monthly reports for the control freak stockbroker she worked for.

She sighed and stood up from the closed toilet seat. Maybe one of these days she’d work up the courage to make some of these random writings into actual stories and try to sell them. The erotic stuff was quite popular these days with women like herself. She knew firsthand, having spent a certain chunky portion of her income on what Paul would call dirty books.

Which was why she didn’t tell him about them. He’d wrinkle up his nose and either tell her she should stop spending her hard-earned money on perverse trash or he’d say something like, Maybe we just aren’t suited for each other, Lynn. Either way, he’d be freaky about it. No way in hell he’d ever say, Hey, let’s try some of that. It might be fun. Oh well. Some things were just meant to stay personal.

Back in the office, Lynn poured herself a cup of coffee in the break room and went to her desk. She set her bag down next to her computer terminal and sipped her coffee while she stared blankly at the screen. Whispers of heat still spiraled through her body, especially between her legs. The fantasy image haunted her mind. Her naked body tied down, helpless under this man’s touch and kiss. He was so gentle, so teasing, like he knew her from the inside out and only cared for her pleasure…The image had just popped up there, unbidden, perhaps a product of what she’d been reading but just as likely from something else…

“Lynn?”

Lynn looked up.

Sandra, the stockbroker she worked for stood by her desk. “I need to talk to you about setting up a wire from Belgium for John Hoffenberger. Are you free now?”

Lynn suppressed a sigh. Of course only Sandra would ask her to do a wire converting US currency to Euros in the middle of monthly reports. But Hoffenberger was Sandra’s biggest client and the commissions she earned from his account made up the bulk of her income.

Oh well. Another night working until at least seven. Good thing the only people waiting at home for her were her housemate Andrea and the cat. Paul would grumble, but he’d be working just as late, trying to make partner in his firm. “Of course I’m free.” She stood up and followed Sandra into her office.

Takeshi watched Lynn follow her boss into Sandra’s office. His gaze stayed riveted on Lynn’s ass, outlined to perfection in the clingy skirt she was wearing. When she disappeared behind the closed door, he forced his gaze back on his computer screen, trying not to think about what that ass looked like out of the skirt. Creamy soft swells of flesh that melted into firm thighs. She just looked soft.

And she had that frustrated pout of a woman who wasn’t getting any. Or not enough anyway. She’d be better off with him. With someone who’d appreciate that satiny skin, rosy cheeks, her mango-sized breasts that teased his imagination through the silky blouses she always wore. How many times had he imagined what her nipples might be like? Tawny or rosy-pink? Large? Perfectly round? How tightly would they pucker when he licked them?

He chuckled to himself and shifted in his seat in an attempt to take pressure of his threatening erection. What guy didn’t want to be the heroic one who gave a woman what she wasn’t getting at home? She had a boyfriend from what Takeshi had managed to catch through office gossip, but from what he could gather, it wasn’t exactly a passionate romance.

He looked up again. Lynn was still in Sandra’s office, but her purse sat on her desk, the zipper undone. The sides gaped open and he could see the corner of the floral print of that journal she was always writing in. A million times he’d seen her hunched over that book, either at her desk or in the break room, her pen scratching furiously over the manilla pages. He couldn’t imagine what kind of stuff she was writing down but her rapt attention had certainly piqued his wicked curiosity.

Like an itch he couldn’t scratch, his curiosity nagged him. If she hadn’t been pretty, he probably wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But Lynn was a good-looking girl. She always wore her blonde hair in a neat bun, but it looked pretty long and he’d entertained quite a few fantasies where she let it down and the silky length of it curled down over her bare breasts. And she had a nice smile that lit up her blue eyes. Clear pale skin and soft dusky lips, not too full, but enough to make him want to taste them.

His cock twitched again in his trousers. He tried to force his attention onto his screen before he got a hard-on that leaked. He was behaving as if he had all the time in the world, as if he weren’t a junior broker trying to get good enough at his job that he could start as a full broker with a nice fat book. Wouldn’t that satisfy his parents even though he’d chosen to make a career here in the States rather than back in Tokyo? It would satisfy them, but not him. He was still compromising…

He glanced at Lynn’s desk again. His curiosity was wicked, potent, made him feel as if an oni had possessed his body and was forcing him to contemplate the crime he was contemplating.

Takeshi rose and picked up his empty coffee mug. Lynn’s desk was on the way to the break room and the place was relatively quiet. People around here were so involved in the financial world, they wouldn’t even notice.

He poured his coffee, heart pounding. No. They wouldn’t notice him. The quiet hard-working Japanese guy who sat in their midst, fantasizing about one of the assistants while he scratched his way up the ladder. Wouldn’t notice him slowing down by Lynn’s desk, or see his hand dip down, over the low divider that gave her a false modicum of privacy. He’d done a bit of pick pocketing in his youth back in Tokyo, just for dares and had gotten pretty good at it. Until his conscience had caught up with him and he’d gone straight. Well, apparently, his skills were still intact.

His fingertips closed on the corner of the book. He didn’t break a step as he tucked the thing under his arm and strode to his desk. He slipped the book into his brief case, sipped his coffee and started clicking away at the keyboard.

Though his heart pounded mercilessly and he could feel the sweat in his armpits, he typed away, wearing his poker face, the one that didn’t know a thing about who had stolen something right out of Lynn Miller’s purse while it sat on her desk…

* * * * *

Oh. My. God.

Lynn’s cheeks burned as if someone had poured gasoline on her face and lit it on fire. Her heart pounded wildly and her hands shook. She stared into her purse, at the cruel absence of her journal.

This can’t be happening.

She’d picked the bag up to rummage for a breath mint and immediately noticed the increased lightness of her purse. Holy crap! While she’d been in Sandra’s office, someone had actually reached into her purse and stolen her journal Fighting to keep her breath normal, she looked up and scanned the office around her.

Nothing out of the unusual. People at their desks, on the phone, tapping into their computers, walking around, the buzz of quiet voices. Her heartbeat sped up, a rapid thrum in her breast. Who here could possibly be a thief?

Her gaze lit on Takeshi Hamura, one of the junior brokers. Takeshi was on the phone, his head bent over his desk, deep in conversation no doubt with a client. He looked about as straight-laced as a guy could, always perfectly groomed in suits and ties, his short ebony hair brushed to a perfect shine. From what she knew about him in the little chatting they’d done, he was a decent guy. He was cute. Nondescript when you first looked at him but then definitely cute if you kept looking. He had clear golden akin and soft full lips. His dark almond-shaped eyes had a gentle glow in them too. He’d moved to Boston from Tokyo six years ago when he was twenty-four, worked crazy hours and went home, as far as she knew.

As if sensing he was being looked at, Takeshi looked up and their gazes locked. He smiled at her and waved then went back to his phone call, dark head bent again.

Lynn heaved a deep breath and continued to gaze around the office. She couldn’t pinpoint anyone and sure as hell couldn’t ask.

She rolled back in her chair and peered under her desk, in case the book had fallen out somehow. Not there. Damn.

She rolled in again and set her purse aside. How the hell was she going to concentrate on monthly reports when someone out there, only God knew who, was reading her innermost private thoughts and fantasies? There were things in there she hadn’t even told Andrea about, like that fantasy about two men at once, one kissing her and fondling her breasts while the other one went down on her…

Oh! Lynn rubbed her forehead. This was a really bad time to be getting a migraine.

She took several deep breaths then got up to refill her coffee cup. Served her right for keeping the journal with her all the time and writing in it so conspicuously. She continued to breathe deeply until her heart didn’t pound quite so horribly. After all, what was the worst that could happen? She could lose her job? No. In this firm, you had to go really far to get fired. A journal full of sexual fantasies wasn’t going to be her undoing. Besides, she was only writing the things down that lots of women thought about these days. The worst that could happen was whoever read the journal masturbated to it. Lynn hadn’t even written her name or phone number in it.

At least she could hope that was all that happened.