Lockout Page 3

  Closing my eyes for a moment, I tried to regroup. Think of that night in the hotel. Think of the wonderful things Sebastian still has to show you, the things he'll do to you if you please him.

  And somehow, it worked. Slowly but surely, my muscles loosened and the plug began to slide deeper. It was a lengthy process, and I stopped twice to apply more lube, but eventually I buried the entire thing inside me, right down to the handle.

  I let out a deep sigh, followed by a wince. The toy was as painful as I'd feared. My ass burned with the fullness of it. I experimented, shaking my hips back and forth and applying gentle pressure to the plug with my hand. Every motion sent a sting coursing through me as my muscles stretched far beyond what had been asked of them recently. It was an invasive sensation, and far from comfortable, but it was done now. Stubbornness meant I would see it through, at least for a while.

  After checking that the room was empty, I slipped out of the cubicle and inspected myself in the mirror. I looked a little flustered, and somehow I'd given myself a perfect sex hair makeover despite the fact that I'd been playing solo. Also, you're walking like you've got a stick up your ass, which I guess in a manner of speaking, you do. On the plus side, that should make you a shoe-in for partner.

  I spent a minute washing the heat from my cheeks and collecting myself, before taking another deep breath and marching out through the door. I half expected Jennifer to have gathered the entire building to witness my walk of shame, so I was pleasantly surprised to find the corridor outside empty. Perhaps I really had gotten away with it.

  The walk to my desk seemed to last an eternity. Every few steps I found myself reaching out to smooth the back of my skirt, certain there was a large, plug shaped knob visible under the material. At one point, one of my colleagues decided to pop out of his office for a chat. It was one of the most excruciating conversations of my life. I could barely string two words together, and with every stumble I felt more certain I had given myself away. After a minute or so, I mumbled something about needing to go, and took off before he could stop me.

  I'd never been happier to arrive at my office. Slipping inside and shutting the door, I pressed myself against it and closed my eyes. Safety.

  A nervous laugh escaped my lips as I considered the lunacy of what I'd just done. Little Bell was one of the oldest and most eminent law firms in Australia. It was a company steeped in tradition, yet there I was marching the hallways with a pair of sodden panties in a box in my hands and a sex toy between my legs. It was crazy. For the hundredth time, I asked myself why I was giving Sebastian so much control, but of course I knew the answer. Because I enjoyed it as much as he did.

  The next few minutes were extremely uncomfortable. Having something buried in my ass was such an alien feeling that I could barely concentrate. Several times I came close to giving up. But gradually, as my muscles began to adjust, the discomfort ebbed away. That unwavering pressure was still there, but the longer I worked, the less it bothered me.

  At some point, I realised that I was actually beginning to enjoy it. It wasn't pleasurable in a direct way, but the sense of fullness was extremely satisfying. And beyond that, there was the psychological effect. Sebastian was right, the plug acted as a constant reminder of his presence. I'd be working through a dense case file, my mind utterly focused on the task at hand, when a sudden shift in position would send a wave of sensation curling through me. It was distracting, but also immensely erotic; as though he was stimulating me from across the country. The message was clear: even when we were apart, I was still his.

  It was difficult to work at my normal pace. I tried my best to focus, but I couldn't slip into my normal steady rhythm. The morning's activities had left me buzzing with energy. My latent orgasm still simmered somewhere inside me, and whenever I looked up from my work, I found my eyes wandering to the box that sat just a few inches from my keyboard. It was closed of course, and looked fairly innocuous, but nonetheless it was nerve-wracking knowing that such a thing was out in the open, just waiting to be discovered. It seemed so damned obvious. I swore I could smell hints of my earlier excitement hanging in the air.

  For a while it seemed like I might escape the day without any visitors, but around lunch time, I heard the dreaded sound of a knock at my door.

  It was Elle. "Feel like ducking out for a bite, Soph?"

  My cheeks instantly turned red. Just chill. She probably won't even notice it.

  "I better not," I replied. "I've got a ton of stuff to do here."

  She grimaced. "Bah. I guess it's me and the boys again then. I have to say, I'm getting a little tired of pretending like I give a shit about football."

  "Next time," I said, smiling sympathetically.

  She nodded. "Sure thing."

  I thought I'd gotten away with it, but as she began to turn away, her eyes suddenly lit up. "And what have we here?" she said with a grin. "A secret admirer perhaps?"

  Even though she hadn't moved, I found my hand darting out to clutch the box anyway. Good work, Sophia. Could you be any more obvious?

  I tried to remain composed. "I wish. It's just my sister trying to make up for forgetting my birthday."

  She frowned. "That was two months ago."

  "What can I say? She's a crappy sister."

  She studied me for several seconds, but eventually gave a short nod. "Fair enough. Get anything good?"

  I breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Movie vouchers and chocolate. Original hey?"

  Elle laughed. "Not really, but I wouldn't be complaining. Anyway, the others are waiting, so I better bail. I'll catch you later."

  "Sure. Seeya."

  Even after she'd gone, it took a few minutes for my muscles to unclench. That had been a lot closer than I'd hoped. I had to admit though, again, part of me had enjoyed the perverse thrill of coming so close to exposure. It was such a simple thing, but so naughtily creative at the same time. I had no idea where Sebastian's mind came up with such ideas.

  The afternoon passed slowly. As my excitement wore off, I began to find my groove again. At about two o'clock, my desk phone rang. The caller ID showed an unfamiliar number.

  "Hello," I said tentatively.

  "Hello, Sophia. I hope you enjoyed your present."

  I let out a little sigh. It was nice just to hear his voice again. "I did. I'm wearing it right now in fact."

  "How's the fit?" he asked, his voice playful.

  I laughed. "It was a little tight to begin with, but I think you got my size just right."

  "Excellent. How about my other requests?"

  "All done."

  "I'm impressed. Had any close calls?"

  "One, but I dealt with it."

  He chuckled. "I'm glad to hear it."

  I hesitated, choosing my words carefully, not wanting to sound too needy. "So how's the trip? Are you nearly done there?"

  "A few more days probably. There's still one or two things to take care of."

  "Good, because after this morning, I'm thoroughly in need of a good seeing to."

  He laughed. "I know the feeling. Christ, I'm hard just thinking about you sitting there with no panties on. But in any case, good behaviour deserves a reward. Since you did such a wonderful job this morning, I'm going to lift the rules. You're free to come as many times as you want until I return."

  I blew out a slow breath. Part of me wanted to run back to the bathroom that very moment and finish what I'd started. But I restrained myself. "Are you sure?"

  "Yes. You've earned it. But save a little something for me. I've got plans for you when I get back."

  "I'll do my best. And you should know, I'll be thinking of you the whole time."

  "I would expect nothing else," he said. "On another note, I saw on the news yesterday that your firm has picked up that big pharmaceutical class action suit. I bet that's pretty exciting."

  I sighed. What a way to kill the mood. "It is, for the people working on it."

  "And I take it by your tone that you're not o
ne of them?"

  "Not at the moment."

  "I'm sorry, Sophia."

  "Hey, it's okay, I'm used to it," I replied. "Anyway, I should go. I may not be working on Wrights, but I have a pile of other stuff to do."

  "No problem. I'll be in touch when I get back. Have a good night."

  "I most certainly will. Bye."

  Knowing I had Sebastian's blessing to relieve the pressure made the rest of the day a little easier. I got through everything I had to do by six o'clock.

  I think I was beginning to appreciate the new side of me that Sebastian was gradually teasing out, because I found the walk out with no underwear on immensely enjoyable. It was my little secret that nobody else knew, and it made even the simple act of saying goodbye to people sexy. Plus I knew that somewhere, a thousand kilometres away, it was driving Sebastian crazy, which made it hotter still.

  A few people tried to stop me on my way out to chat, but I politely excused myself. I had more important things on my agenda. Like a long overdue date with a battery operated friend.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The next night, I gave myself an early mark and headed home from the office at five on the dot. If they weren't going to assign me the work I wanted, I sure as hell wasn't giving them maximum effort. I decided a little me-time was in order.

  After taking a long, luxurious bath, I settled on the couch with a bowl of bolognese and a glass of wine, and flicked on the television. I couldn't remember the last time I'd gone full couch potato. Even those rare moments when I did find a little spare time, I usually felt like I shouldn't waste it on the likes of commercial television, but there's something to be said for just sitting down and zoning out occasionally.

  I channel surfed for a while, flicking from one terrible reality show to the next. Even by my vegging out standards, most of the stuff was truly appalling.

  At some point in my wandering I skipped to BBC News.

  "—been nearly a week and police still don't know the motive behind the killing, but a source inside British parliament says it could have been politically motivated."

  I froze. There was a picture of a shirtless man on the screen. He looked to be in his sixties, but was still fit, with a broad chest and thick arms that belied the wrinkles on his face. I'd never seen him before, but nonetheless there was one very familiar thing about him. Tattooed on his right bicep was a stylised letter A. The image was grainy and indistinct — it looked like a hasty camera phone holiday snap — but the mark appeared almost identical to the one Sebastian wore.

  The shot cut to a police man. "Our initial findings indicate that Mister Reynolds was tortured, possibly for several days, before eventually dying of his injuries. We're working closely with the government in our investigation."

  The program moved on to another story, but I was no longer paying attention. I'd never seen that symbol before meeting Sebastian. If the two of them had shared a different tattoo, a dragon or skull and crossbones or some other generic ink, I wouldn't have thought much of it, but this was a very specific image with very specific typography. It looked to be a different size, and was in a different place on his body, but still, it was a little eerie.

  Firing up my laptop, I began looking for more information. The man's name was Christian Reynolds and he'd been the environment secretary of state for the British Government. He'd been a British citizen his whole life and a government employee for thirty years. No one knew for sure why he'd been killed, but based on the extensive torture he'd suffered, it was suspected to have been about information. I couldn't find a better picture of him, but after taking a closer look at the one shot that was circulating, I was fairly convinced that the marking was the same.

  It had to be a coincidence. He and Sebastian were worlds apart. Different countries, different careers, different generations. Perhaps it was just a more common symbol than I realised.

  I knew the smart thing to do was just forget about it. I'd caused enough trouble already by letting my paranoia get the better of me. What was I going to do? Wander up to Sebastian and say, "Excuse me, but do you happen know this random dead guy from the other side of the world?" It sounded absurd.

  But as I flicked the television to another station and tried to focus on My Kitchen Rules, my mind continued to wander. Something about that ornate little symbol bothered me. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A few nights later I was once again out having drinks with the girls. My week had gone steadily downhill since Sebastian's call, and when Lou had suggested we hit the town, I'd jumped at the opportunity.

  "Nothing says 'Friday Night' like a tray of Mojitos," I said, setting our drinks on the table.

  "Hear hear," replied Ruth, raising her glass. She took a long sip and sighed appreciatively.

  "So now that it's had a few weeks to sink in, how's it feel to be the future Mrs Steven Page, Lou?" I asked.

  "No complaints. To be honest it's pretty much the same, but it makes Steve more comfortable. We want to start trying for kids soon, and his parents just wouldn't be able to stomach it if we didn't tie the knot first."

  "Bah, kids, weddings, I don't like all this growing up," said Ruth. "Pretty soon I'll be sculling cheap vodka alone in Jackson's on a Friday night, while you two host dinner parties and play charades, or whatever the fuck it is responsible people do in their downtime. It's selfish, is what it is."

  "Hey don't lump me in with that crowd," I said. "There are no nappies or white dresses in my future."

  Lou grinned at me. "That's not what I hear. I hear you might have a mystery gentleman of your own, now."

  I shot Ruth a look.

  "Hey, she dragged it out of me!"

  I glared at her for a few seconds, but eventually broke into a laugh. I'm not sure what else I expected. Once you told Ruth something it was as good as front page news.

  "It's not like that. It's strictly a casual thing," I told Lou.

  "So? These things always start out casual. That's what the first few dates are. Doesn't mean it can't go somewhere eventually."

  "With this guy, I think it does. He's not exactly the settling down type. I struggle to picture any woman keeping hold of him for very long. Besides, he's made his intentions perfectly clear, and I'm fine with that."

  At that moment, my phone started buzzing in my bag with Sebastian's name flashing across the screen. "Speak of the devil," I said.

  "He's back in town?" Ruth asked.

  I shrugged. "Let's find out." I answered the call. "Hey."

  "Sophia." The word sounded impossibly sweet off his tongue. He claimed he'd trained girls to come with a simple command, and the longer I knew him, the more I believed that might be true.

  "Back in sunny Sydney?" I asked.

  "Yes, I arrived this afternoon."

  "Good flight?"

  He laughed. "Flights are never good. Let's go with the word tolerable."

  "Fair enough."

  "I'd like to see you, Sophia. Tonight, if possible."

  "Aww, did you miss me?"

  "You don't know the half of it. I couldn't get the image of you playing with yourself out of my mind. I haven't been able to concentrate for days. I intend to make you do that again and this time I'm going to lick your pussy clean myself."

  I blushed. There was something so hot about discussing such intimate things with my friends just a few feet away.

  "I think I can arrange that," I said coyly.

  "Excellent. There's a little company gathering I need to go to now. Nothing like the other week, a small group, but there are some people there I have to talk to. Why don't you come with me? We can have a drink, and after we can see about that show."

  "I'm out with the girls at the moment," I said, although both of them were waving me on. "Also, I'm not dressed for a fancy party."

  "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't care what you're wearing? You look gorgeous no matter what. Besides, if I have my way, you won't be wearing much of anyt
hing for very long. Will your friends mind if I steal you away?"

  I glanced at their eager faces. "I think they'll cope," I said.

  "Wonderful. Where are you?"

  "Zeta bar, in the Hilton Hotel."

  "I know it. I'll be there in half an hour."

  "See you then."

  Ruth snorted as I stashed my phone back in my purse. "Yeah, casual indeed."

  "What?" I replied.

  "Look at you, you can't wipe the dopey smile off your face."

  "I can too!" I said, making a conscious effort to twist my mouth into a scowl. It was surprisingly difficult.

  "Lou?" Ruth said, turning to the other woman.

  She grinned at me. "If you'd been any more gooey-eyed, Soph, you'd have been melting onto the table."

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Sure, I was excited to see Sebastian, but that was purely my raging libido talking. "You can shut up, both of you. It's just fun because it's new, you know? That's all."

  "If you say so," said Lou, although her expression said she didn't buy it.

  "Anyway, he'll be here soon, so I'd appreciate if you two could do your best not to embarrass me."

  I was secretly looking forward to them meeting Sebastian. I'm not ashamed to admit that I wanted to show him off a little. I'd been with attractive guys in the past, but none had nearly the same visceral impact that he did. His sheer presence and overt sexuality were a sight to behold. I couldn't wait to see the effect he'd have on the girls.

  He didn't disappoint. A little while later, I spotted him sauntering through the crowd.

  "So somehow she thinks it's my responsibility because..." Lou was saying to Ruth, however she trailed off as Sebastian appeared behind me.

  "Sophia," he said, laying a hand gently on my shoulder.

  "Right on time," I replied. "Sebastian, these are my friends, Ruth and Louisa."

  "A pleasure to meet you," he said, shaking each of their hands. They returned the gesture dumbly, their mouths hanging slightly open like they'd forgotten how to speak. It was incredibly satisfying seeing them stilled like that, although I couldn't say that I blamed them. He looked good enough to eat. Somehow he'd managed to maintain that perfect level of rough stubble he'd worn the first night we met. That, combined with his wild black curls and roguish smile, gave him an exotic, devil may care look that practically screamed, "mind blowing orgasms!" I didn't think there was a woman in the room who would be immune to that.