“Ask for it Steph, ask me for what you want?”
She knew he was enjoying this, her discomfort and decided that the power she had displayed as the aggressor in this was a distant memory and he was definitely in charge now.
“Please, touch me, touch my clit, make me come,” she added and his hand holding her hip quickly lowered further to cup her sex gently before finding her needy clit. “Thank you,” she cried out as he began to circle it as he pumped his finger in and out of her behind while still fucking her at a furious pace until seconds later in a sea of stars and loud shouts, she was coming all around him as he came inside her.
They lay together across her desk for possibly only a few seconds before Steph said, “Whoever said men can’t multitask really needs to meet you.”
“You’re welcome.” He laughed as he pulled free of her and began to redress leaving her still sprawled across her desk. “I welcome our next trip not onto the carpet, darling.” He gatheredher clothes and passed them to her to redress before he left her with a chaste kiss.
“Now, I have work to do and so do you so I will see you at seven. Don’t forget formal wear,” he called pulling his phone out and hitting dial. “Kramer, I’m going to need time frames,” he said as he left Steph alone in her office.
Fourteen
Steph had just slipped on a pair of silver, strappy heeled sandals and checked out her reflection in the mirrored wardrobe door and smiled. After visiting her dad earlier that afternoon she had made her way to a nearby department store and bought the dress that she now wore. She thought that she had chosen well as she looked at her reflection showing a lilac, full length, strapless, satin gown. She twirled round and smiled at the mock lace up back and rear split to the knee. Looking at the horizontally pleated front bodice again, she smoothed her hands over the straight skirt. Her hair was in a rather sophisticated up do with a few wispy strands around her ears and neck and her make-up was soft and natural, with just a hint of lilac and grey on her eyes and a slightly darker purple shimmer across her lips. She straightened the pearl choker that she wore with matching single pearl studs and bracelet before adding a final spray of perfume.
As the taxiheaded into Central London, Steph could feel the butterflies doing triple somersaults in her stomach; what if she ran into Lucy and if she was right and Mrs Brooker knew abouther, what kind of reception would she get? How would she cope with seeing Jon and Lucy together? This was a most bizarre situation she found herself in tonight and she really didn’t like it, so much so that she really felt like crying.
She physically jumped as the taxi driver pulled up in front of a rather grand and luxurious looking hotel.
Nervously she made her way up the steps and walked through the door that was held open by the uniformed middle aged gentleman on the door who tipped his hat towards her as he said, “Miss.”
Steph made her way to reception and asked where the Brooker Foundation Gala was being held. The thirty something dark haired, Mediterranean looking man smiled at her and pointed towards a very pretty young, blonde woman nearby wearing a very elegant, full length, black cocktail dress holding a clipboard. Steph approached the woman and realised she was a hostess of some sort and smiling she asked, “Can I help you, madam?”
“I’m here for the Brooker Foundation Gala,” Steph replied, still nervous at how the evening may pan out.
“And your name?” asked the woman looking down at her board.
“Stephanie Pryor,” replied Steph stammering now.
“You don’t appear to be on the list I’m afraid. Are you the guest of someone?” She smiled sympathetically at Steph’s painfully obvious discomfort.
“Mr Brooker, I was invited by Mr Brooker.”
“Sorry madam, but the only guest of Mr Brooker is Mrs Brooker,” the woman explained causing Steph’s blushing to multiply one hundred fold.
“This is ridiculous,” muttered Steph and considered her options, fight or flight? Flight was definitely the easier option, but she wondered what she would be fleeing, the gala or Jon.Decision made she thought, fight it is. “Can you contact Mr Brooker and tell him that I am here?” asked Steph suddenly bolstered.
“Unfortunately not, he is rather busy this evening,” was the slightly sarcastic reply that came now.
“Okay.” Steph could feel her irritation rising. “I’ll call him myself.” She pulled her phone from the glittery silver bag she carried, but before she had selected Jon’s number she felt an arm wrap around her waist.
“Miss Pryor, you made it, albeit a little late,” said Jon as she turned to face him and the woman with the clipboard gazed up at him doe eyed making Steph smile–was there nobody immune to his charm, or at least his handsome face?
“I would have been on time if my name had been added to the list.”
“Ah,” he said as he presumably realised his mistake.
“Quite,” Steph said, admonishing him with her tone.
“Should I add Miss Pryor as your guest, Mr Brooker?” asked the woman now.
“Yes please,” he replied before guiding Steph towards the ballroom where it appeared the gala was being hosted.
“I hope I’m not overdressed or under-dressed,” said Steph as they headed down the long corridor together.
As they reached the entrance to the ballroom Jon turned her to face him and took a very sharp intake of breath, then let out a low whistle.
“You look absolutely amazing, Steph. Really, really beautiful, darling,” he told her smiling.
