Surviving the Rich-Sunshine and Sir Ch. 05

To Be Decided

Rae was sitting at an extension of Stella's desk Killian had installed so they could comfortably share the space without being on top of one another. Stella was going over the hierarchy of the firm and where Killian fit. On paper, he was a founding partner in charge of the office in the burbs while the majority of the other senior partners were at their offices in the city. In reality, two junior partners ran the suburban office while Killian did his own thing, occasionally sitting in on meetings. But for the most part, Stella was his go between, and she was a marvel. Unflappable, she moved through the day with no sense of urgency while getting everything accomplished with ease. Killian's everything was a fairly apt description, without her he'd be lost. It was hard for Rae to imagine taking on the mantle when Stella left, but she was working hard to live up to the expectation.

A commotion stopped Stella short, and then two delivery men appeared. One carrying a couple boxes and another rolling a wrapped piece of furniture down the hall. Before Rae or Stella could say anything Killian walked out of his office. "Perfect timing."

He held the door open, and after the delivery men disappeared looked at them and smiled, then followed. Stella and Rae exchanged confused glances, and Stella said, "What is he up too?"

"Up too?" Rae asked, keeping her voice neutral.

Stella laughed lightly and said, "Always. That man is always up to something."

"Add it to the things to remember list?"

Stella nodded, laughing louder and Rae smiled in return, her instincts telling her without a doubt, the up to something, had to do with her.

The door opened and Killian thanked the delivery men, palming them some cash. After they left he said, "Rae, I need a word."

"Yes Mr. Laird." That looked flitted through his eyes and she suppressed a smile. She'd been there two weeks and while Stella called him Killian, she didn't, and it chafed. It was a tiny victory in the game, and she was going to milk it for all it was worth.

She walked into his office surprised to see a chaise lounge in the alcove between his desk, and private bathroom. Killian didn't strike her as a chaise kind of man, at least not in his office. He picked up one of the packages off his desk and handed it to her.

"Do I want to know what's inside?" she asked.

He smiled and said, "Open it."

The box was already opened so she pulled back the paper. Skin and hair care products, as well as a makeup bag filled with powders, blushes, lipsticks and other items. Now she was annoyed. Fixing a smile on her face she said, "Thank you Mr. Laird. This is very generous of you."

"And yet, you're not at all happy."

"Are you kidding?" she said, brightly. "When a man gives a woman such thoughtful gifts, there's no other way she could possibly feel. So again, thank you."

He scrutinized her closely, and said, "Try them, and I promise you actually will be happy." She nodded, her smile not faltering in the slightest. The side of his mouth twitched and he leaned on the edge of his desk. "That will be all Rae."

Can I leave this here so I don't have to explain the gifts to Stella?"

He nodded, so she placed the box on a chair and headed for the door. She could feel his eyes peeling away her clothing, and forced herself to walk calmly. He'd been completely professional so far, but that was about to change and she knew it. When she sat down at her desk, she did a quick search of the products and almost fell out of her chair. He'd spent a thousand dollars easily.

"Everything ok?" Stella asked.

"Mmhmm. Just a little nervous about being by myself is all." It was easily believable, because it was partly true.

Stella smiled and said, "You'll be fine. It's only for a few hours and you can text me with any questions."

For the next couple hours she focused on work, and when Killian and Stella left for meetings elsewhere, she tried to enjoy the quiet. But it was tough with, to be decided looming over her head. Thankfully the rest of the day flew by without incident and at five on the dot she gathered her things to leave. Glancing at his door she debated leaving the box, but after what he spent she couldn't be rude. She was just about to enter Killian's office when her phone vibrated. Killian reminding her not to forget her products, and wanting her to know the other box was for her as well. A gift for work.

She stepped into his office and saw the boxes on the new chaise. It was a beautiful piece of furniture, the carvings along the base reminiscent of Celtic knot work. She moved the boxes to the floor and walked around the chaise. Something seemed off. Running her hands over the brown leather she was amazed at the silky smoothness. She'd never felt leather so soft, and that, she realized, was one of the issues. The leather didn't fit the style of the base. She should be seeing tuft leather, but whoever restored it replaced that look and style with a modern one. The curves were more pronounced too, and the more she studied them, the more certain she became the chaise was designed for a plethora of sexual positions. She still had no clue what his appetites were, and leaving the boxes on the chaise was a calculated move to make her wonder, to keep her mind on him, and what he was going to do.

She looked at the other box and knelt down. He'd opened it as well, and she pulled the paper back, the bees in her stomach making her hands shake a touch. She sat back on her heels surprised. No whips, chains or cuffs, but an outfit. A red blouse, black skirt, backseam hose, and even heals. Another smaller white box was tucked inside and she pulled off the lid.

"Shit," she breathed, staring at red lace bra, panties, and garter belt.

Her phone vibrated and she fished it out of her bag. Of course it was Killian. Have a great weekend sunshine. I look forward to seeing you Monday.

She stared at her phone a moment, then texted, Thank you Mr. Laird, you too.

At least she knew that would take some of the wind out of his sails, not much but a little. Gathering her new things together, she headed for the parking garage.

*********************

Killian passed Rae's car as he pulled into his parking space and a smile spread across his face. Mondays she was his as long as he needed, and he had plans. He grabbed his briefcase and garment bag out of the backseat and strolled to the elevator whistling.

When he rounded the corner to his office and saw Rae he smiled. "Good morning. I hope you had a wonderful weekend."

Rae, wearing black pants and blouse, looked at him almost expectantly and said, "Good morning Mr. Laird. I did, thank you."

He walked into his office, waiting until the door shut before chuckling. Hanging the garment bag on the bathroom door, he settled in behind his desk. It was just the two of them, Stella had the day off, and he'd given himself a light load so he could spend quality time with Rae. He had a lot to learn about her tastes, and boundaries. His gaze drifted to the chaise and he shifted in his chair. He was looking forward to seeing her draped across it, the curves accentuating her curves. He shifted in his chair again, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. First things first. "Rae, I need a word."

She walked in the office a smile on her face. "Yes, Mr. Laird?"

He stood and looked her up and down. "We need to discuss your wardrobe."

"What about it?"

"While those clothes were just fine for the restaurant, they aren't right for my firm. Was there a problem with the clothing I gave you?"

"No Mr. Laird, everything is absolutely lovely," she said, her eyes much too innocent. "Thank you."

She thought she could play the game with him and win. Losing over and over would sharpen her skills, and with the right guidance she could become a formidable opponent. But not today. He walked around the desk and circled her, taking in her shabby clothing with a few tisks. "Your pants are too big and falling apart because of it." He crossed his arms and stopped in front of her. "Your blouse has seen better days as well. Appearance matters, to me and my clients. This outfit is unsatisfactory. Change into the clothes I bought you."

She was taken aback, and said, "I have to go home to do that. It'll be an hour, hour and a half round trip."

He shook his head, suppressing a smile, and said, "Completely unacceptable."

A touch of panic darted across her gaze, and he eyed her sternly for another moment then walked over to the garment bag. He unzipped it and stepped aside. The stunned look on her face was so satisfying arousal flooded his groin. He hadn't told her specifically she had to wear the outfit, so it was a given she wouldn't. Not because she didn't like the clothes, but because he bought them for her. So he'd gotten her a second set, down to the shoes.

She scanned the contents of the garment bag and said, "I, in no way, saw this coming." Suddenly she was fighting a smile, and the more she tried, the more it wouldn't be denied. "You got me. I..." She met his gaze and burst into laughter.

Of all the reactions he thought possible, surliness, resentment, annoyance, even defeat, laughter was completely unexpected. Her eyes sparkled with genuine amusement, her laugh big and full, and real. He'd heard her different laughs over the past couple years. Working in the service industry she'd perfected a few, but he'd only heard her real laugh through the coatroom wall. He founded himself chuckling in return, unable to help it. It was a completely different kind of victory, one that humanized him in her eyes. But mostly, it just made him feel good.

She wiped her eyes and said, "I'll get changed right away Mr. Laird." She crossed the room and reached for the bag. "No red lace undergarments though. Ah, well."

"You're wearing those sunshine."

She froze but recovered quickly, and grabbing the bag disappeared into his bathroom. He smiled and went back to his desk. Taking a seat he opened his laptop and read through emails, smiling every time he pictured her sparkling eyes.

Rae had never worn a garter belt much less attached pantyhose to one. She'd had the garter in her pocket as a tease, and he knew. She laughed under breath, he must wipe the floor with other attorneys. King of the mountain indeed. The red blouse was soft, and both loose and form fitting, with a wide collar and open neck. When she took the skirt off the hanger she examined it doubtfully. There was no way it would fit. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the skirt and pulled it up, surprised when it slid easily over her hips. She pulled up the zipper and put on the heels. Killian didn't have a large mirror in the bathroom, but it was tilted, giving her a clear view of herself. Appearance mattered.

The skirt ended a couple inches below the knees, the ruffle moving like waves when she turned. She didn't see any sign of the garter, everything was smooth and seamless. Rae's gaze travelled over every inch of the stranger staring back at her. Between the weight loss and the clothing she didn't recognize herself, and it made her feel uncomfortable and vulnerable. Her clothing was almost like armor, she chose it for a reason.

"Everything alright?"

He was just outside the door and her heart started hammering. Clearing her throat she said, "Yes. I'll be right out."

She folded her unacceptable clothes and placed them in the garment bag. Taking a couple deep, steadying breaths she opened the door. Killian had taken his jacket off, and was leaning against the wall his hands in his pockets. He straightened and silently drank in the sight of her, making her want to escape as fast as she could. She focused on his blue tie and black vest instead, trying to put on her mask of confidence and nonchalance, and having little success.

"Look at me," he said softly. She raised her eyes to his and he smiled. "The style suits you. Truly Rae, you're enchanting."

She dropped her gaze, her cheeks on fire, and said, "Thank you."

"Everything fits perfectly," he said, walking to his desk. "I'll confirm the rest of the order and we'll pick your wardrobe up later. Bring the other blouse and skirt back to the office and store them in the closet. It's good to have a change of clothes here for emergencies."

"Wardrobe?" That snapped her back. "What wardrobe?"

"Your wardrobe," he replied. "Your clothing has to reach a certain standard in cut and quality while working for the firm, so I took the liberty of ordering plenty of items from the same boutique. I just needed to know I got the sizing correct."

"This isn't Pretty Woman," she said, shaking her head. "I will not-"

He waved his hand dismissively and said, "It's a business expense, and a necessary one. You will be accompanying me to meetings, and like I said, appearance matters. Now you look like a stylish and professional member of my staff. End of the discussion."

Anger roared through her, and in a voice dripping with saccharine, she said, "Of course Mr. Laird. Whatever you say." He looked up from his phone and she smiled sweetly. She could play in the land of make believe if that's what his ego demanded. "Is there anything else you need at the moment Mr. Laird?"

His expression darkened, and he said, "Enough with the Mr. Laird."

"You're my boss," she said, widening her eyes like a fawn. "What would you like me to call you?" His annoyance grew, and it only spurred her on. He wanted to give orders, and treat her like a living doll, then she'd act accordingly. "It's a legitimate question. If not Mr. Laird then what?"

He sat down regarding her warily. "Sir will do for now. That'll be all."

"Yes sir," she said sweetly, and headed for the door.

Just as she was about to leave he said, "Do you like the chaise?"

She looked over her shoulder and said, "I hadn't given it any thought."

The corner of his mouth twitched and she shut the door. Her butt had just hit the chair when the phone buzzed. "Come back in the office sunshine."

"Goddamn it," she breathed, pushing herself to her feet. She opened the door and he was leaning on the edge of his desk, arms crossed. "Yes sir?"

He gestured for her to come closer and said, "I won't have us at odds over something as trivial as clothing. Do you like the outfit?"

Either he was playing dumb, which was out of character, or he really thought she was mad about the clothes. Everything between them was inside, outside, upside down. She had no clue what to say or do, or even how to act around him, and she didn't like it. Killian wasn't just a passing day dream anymore, he was a living breathing nightmare taking complete control of her life, and she'd given him that power. "They're beautiful Mr. Laird...I mean sir." Because fuck him. "I can honestly say I love the style. It's not one I would choose for myself, but then it's not one I see in stores. 40s and 50s with a modern flare, it's lovely and I do like it."

"Then you'll love the wardrobe Rae."

"What matters is that you love it," she said, brightly. "Was that all?" She didn't give him a chance to respond, she turned and headed for the door.

"Stop right there."

She froze the undercurrent of heat in his voice rolling down her spine. Then he was behind her, so close she could feel the coiled power roiling within him. He gathered her hair in his hands and pulled it over her shoulders, letting his fingertips drift down her back. She tried to suppress the shiver, but when his hands moved back up to her shoulders it wouldn't be denied.

"You're still angry with me sunshine," he said, burying his face in her hair and breathing deeply. "Your hair is soft and shining." The brush of his lips under her ear sent goosebumps racing down her arms. "You smell enticing, just a hint of mimosa. So you like the products." He ran his hands down her arms, and lightly massaged her fingers. The sensations were relaxing and titillating, and she closed her eyes focusing on the whirling waves of pleasure thrumming from her hands. "You like the clothes," he said, nuzzling her neck. "But you're still annoyed with me."

It was difficult to remain angry when he was massaging her entire body through her fingers. It was like a drug, and before she knew it she was leaning into him, his chest rising and falling against her back.

He raised a hand to his lips, while sliding the other around her waist. "End of discussion was insensitive. I saw the argument escalating and shut it down without considering your feelings. Let me make it up to you."

He gently kissed every finger and then moved to her knuckles, teasing them with the slightest flicker of his tongue. He splayed his hand on her stomach and held her closer, the warmth of his body coupled with his attentions igniting the heat within her own. She swallowed hard, and whispered, "Make it up to me?"

She felt his smile on her skin and he said, "I told you, your pleasure and happiness matter as much as my own. I meant that sunshine." The last was whispered into her ear, turning the word into a rush of arousal. She inhaled sharply, and he kissed his way around her ear. "So was I right?"

"About what?" she asked, her chest beginning to heave.

One hand slid down her hip to her thigh while the other slowly pulled her blouse free from her skirt. Curling his fingers into the skirt, he got a hold of one of the straps. He pulled it taut, and then let go, snapping it against her flesh. She jumped in his grasp, and he slipped a hand under her blouse and lightly ran his thumb along the bra. "You wanted me to wonder." He snapped another strap and stroked her breasts through the red lace. "You wanted to tease me. Didn't you?" She didn't answer fast enough, and he snapped another strap. Grabbing a handful of her breast, he growled into her neck. "Didn't you?"

"Yes," she said, barely above a whisper, the heat pulsing between her legs.

He tsked a couple times and in a low, husky voice said, "My sweet sunshine, I'm going to have make your pleasure punishing for that."

He snapped the strap again and it vibrated up her thigh like the strike of a bell. Moisture trickled down her skin and she arched her back a touch, wondering just what he meant. He took her hand and rested it on the back of his neck. "Do not move your hand. If you do I'll be forced to add to your punishment."

"Weren't you making something up to me?" she said, sliding her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

He turned her head to face him and said, "You're getting both, pleasure and punishment."

The hedonistic look in his eyes trapped her and her breath caught in her throat. She wanted both, and the realization tapped into a well of lust she never knew existed. He saw it all go through her eyes, and grasped her face more firmly. Kissing her hungrily, he pulled her skirt up inch by inch, until the garters were exposed.

"Now," he said, nibbling on her lips. "Hold your skirt and keep your other hand where it is. Do not move either."

She grasped her bunched up skirt, and closed her eyes as he devoured her neck and stroked her thighs, lightly snapping the garters. The heat simmering between her legs ignited, and the inferno raged throughout her entire body. His hand travelled up her thigh until her was caressing her through the lace, the sensation, almost tortuous in its teasing. Her hips twitched and she whimpered, aching for release. He increased the pressure and she let go of his neck. It was only momentary but he tsked into her ear and said, "Now you're up to three. I'm going to enjoy this sunshine."

Before she could ask what he meant, he shoved his hand under the lace and stroked her folds with nimble, skilled fingers, bringing her up on her toes. Noises she'd never made flew from her mouth, the swirling touch of fingers around her nipples only adding to the escalating pleasure between her legs. He pressed his thumb high and wiggled his fingers. Light exploding behind her eyes, and she cried out, the orgasm hitting her so hard she couldn't catch her breath. "Jesus," she finally managed to whisper. "What did you do to me?"