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By *omptomp OP Man 9 weeks ago
Maidstone |
Victoria had been on edge all week. Every gift Tommy sent had worked its way under her skin, igniting her body and invading her thoughts until she could barely function. Today, as she sat in her plush office overlooking London, she was completely consumed by him. She drummed her manicured nails against the polished desk, legs crossed, lips painted the same deep red as when they had met. Her mind wasn’t on the emails piling up or the sketches strewn across her desk. It was on Tommy. On his mouth. On his hands. On the way he could unravel her with just a few words.
The ache between her legs was unbearable. She had been fighting the urge all afternoon to lock her office door, pull her dress up, slide her fingers into her soaked knickers, and let herself go. She wanted release, but more than that, she wanted him.
Downstairs, Tommy stepped through the glass doors of the building like he owned the place. Victoria had built this business on her own, an interior design company for the rich and successful, without Daddy’s money but with determination and grit. This was all hers and as Tommy took it in, he suddenly felt overwhelmed at how incredibly proud of her he felt.
He looked every bit the part. Sharp navy suit, crisp white shirt, dark tie, and an air of effortless confidence. His expensive watch glinted as he adjusted his cufflinks, his jaw set with power. The receptionist looked up and nearly dropped her pen. She wasn’t the only one, the younger assistants nearby froze mid-task, whispering and giggling like schoolgirls.
“Good afternoon, sir,” the receptionist managed, her voice wobbling slightly.
“I’m here about some potential projects,” Tommy said smoothly, his voice low, commanding, carrying the weight of authority. He let the words hang in the air, his presence filling the space.
The receptionist nearly tripped over her own words, cheeks flushed pink. “O-of course. If you could take a seat, I’ll get one of our team to speak with you.”
Tommy nodded once, dismissive, and sat back in the chair like a man used to waiting for the world to catch up to him.
Catherine, Victoria’s most senior designer, appeared moments later. Professional, composed, but the second her eyes landed on Tommy she faltered. He stood as she approached, towering over her, extending his hand.
“Mr. Chatterley,” he said smoothly, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her throat tighten.
She shook his hand, caught between being impressed and intimidated, and led him through to one of the glass-walled offices. Tommy deep in character told her that he had a portfolio of properties in London and was looking to refurbish them all. Catherine, excited by the prospect and her potential commission sprang
into action. “Let me explain a little about our process,” she began as they sat opposite one another across the sleek desk.
But Tommy wasn’t listening. He leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable, his eyes occasionally flicking to her but never really settling. The arrogance rolled off him in waves. Catherine felt her patience thinning.
“As you can see, we work with a range of high-profile clients…..
Tommy cut her off sharply. “I don’t care about any of that.” His tone was clipped, dismissive. “With the amount of money I’m prepared to spend, I don’t want to waste my time talking to a middle woman. I want to speak to whoever is actually in charge here.”
Catherine blinked, her jaw tightening at the rudeness. Arrogant prick, she thought. She tried to compose herself. “Our owner doesn’t normally deal directly with clients. She focuses on the overall direction of the business, while we handle the details of individual projects.”
Tommy’s lips curved into the faintest smirk. He stood abruptly, buttoning his blazer as if the meeting was already over. “Then I’m leaving. If I can’t speak to the person who makes the decisions, I’ll take my business elsewhere.”
Panic flickered across Catherine’s face. Losing a potential client who radiated wealth, even an insufferable one, was not an option. She gestured for him to sit back down. “Wait. I’ll… I’ll see what I can do.”
Tommy lowered himself back into the chair, his face carefully neutral, though inside he was buzzing with satisfaction. He was in complete control of the scene, bending it exactly how he wanted. As Catherine walked out of the room to fetch Victoria, a slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.
The game had just entered its next stage. |
