Free Purely Professional by Elia Winters Page B

thing,” he said as she opened the door. She turned to him, waiting, and his answering smile was wicked. “No touching yourself.”
    In a moment, her passivity vanished, replaced by indignation. “Hey, that’s not up to you.”
    “You want my help, you’ll do it on my terms.” He shrugged, no sign of mercy in his eyes. “Or you can find someone else to help you deceive your boss.”
    Bridget swallowed, knowing she had no real argument. He was doing this for her; she should probably at least play along. “How will you know if I do?”
    Max shrugged. “Maybe I won’t.” Then his look changed, and she saw the Dominant in him. “But if I find out you disobeyed me, this will escalate a lot more quickly than you expect. Do I make myself clear?”
    “Y-yes,” she said, surprised by how easily his demeanor could change, unsettled by its immediate effect on her. She wondered how she would sleep without relieving the ache between her legs.
    “Sleep well.” Max waved to her as she headed back home.

Chapter Six
    When Bridget woke up the next morning, her head throbbing, it took a moment for the events of the previous evening to come flooding back to her. She groaned. What had she gotten herself into? Setting up this arrangement with Max was, undoubtedly, the dumbest thing she’d ever done, and in the light of morning, her own stupidity seemed so obvious it was almost painful. She picked up her phone from the nightstand and considered texting him and calling the whole thing off, playing the drunk card; she even got so far as to open the message window. But then other thoughts came to mind: his hand on the back of her neck, holding her mouth pressed to his. The insistence of his lips and tongue. His deep voice, like sex and whiskey and naughty promises. She set her phone aside and licked her lips. This might be dumb, but damn it all if she wasn’t going through with it anyway, because honestly, she wanted him to show her what else she could feel.
    It took her a while to find her garter belt, but she finally dug it out from the bottom of her underwear drawer along with the accompanying thigh-high pantyhose. She had bought them on a whim and never really worn them. But oh, those stockings. She’d never realized how sexy stockings could feel, the constricting smoothness against her thighs drawing her attention to all the places they weren’t covering. She couldn’t help looking at herself in the mirror and admiring what she saw. The black garter belt and thigh-highs were striking against her pale skin and red hair, in all the best ways. Maybe it was her wicked thoughts, but her eyes seemed darker than normal, her lips fuller, and she actually looked sultry , studying her own reflection. She ran her hands down the front of her body, over the smooth skin and the lace of the garter belt, tracing the thin ribbons that held the stockings up.
    Still watching herself, she reached down between her thighs, her fingers hesitating over the puffy skin before drawing back. It would feel so good; she was still aroused from the night before, her folds slick and swollen, and she wanted to touch and rub and end the sweet agony. How was she going to survive an entire day of this? Or longer? Clenching her hand into a fist, she stepped away from the mirror and back to her closet.
    Max hadn’t specified the length of her skirt, and she certainly wasn’t going to wear anything short, so she selected a gray tweed that cleared her knees and paired it with a black button-down blouse and some short heels. Even with all these clothes on, she felt naked without underwear. No underwear, going to work, each step reminding her of Max’s dominance. This was what she had chosen.
    All day, she felt as if everyone in the office knew. Every time she shifted in her chair, she felt herself become more aroused. It was naughty , and she was ashamed to admit that a small part of her liked it. What was it about Max’s instructions that made her feel like a