i can't quit you baby
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I can't quit you baby
So I'm gonna put you down for awhile
I said I can't quit you baby
I guess I gotta put you down for awhile

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Mr. White unexpectedly knocked on my office door on Wednesday afternoon. I was alone, so I let him in. "Mr. White. Paul is not here." I assumed he was looking for my boss because we usually didn't talk much at work.

"I wasn't looking for Paul." He smiled as I stood up, walked around the desk, and sat on it with my arms crossed. "I came to make sure you weren't avoiding me."

"I'm not avoiding you." I still sounded a little annoyed.

"Did Archer do something to upset you?"

"No, he's actually a lot of fun to be around."

He looked at me as if I had just said something he couldn't accept.

"What's upsetting you, then, Miss Carter?"

"Nothing is upsetting me."

He closed the gap between us and grabbed both of my legs, forcing them open. Luckily, I was wearing a dress that day, so nothing ripped. His hands wandered on my skin and squeezed both of my thighs. "You're going to break the rules, Mr. White." I could barely breathe. His hands left my body and grabbed the edge of the desk along both sides of my body as he positioned himself between my legs.

It took only that to make me wet and ready for him.

"Someone might come in and see us like this." I warned him. He wasn't speaking; he just kept looking at me like he didn't care about the risks at all. He seemed to be on the verge of pinning me down and disciplining me for pouting at him.

"I bet you do this to every woman." I almost whined.

He raised one eyebrow, puzzled by my words.

I clung to his pants with both hands, as if about to strip him naked, but all I was doing was drawing him closer. "Mr. White, you need t-to leave..." My stutter made his eyes sparkle with desire, and I could feel him grow hard against my groin. His grip on the desk intensified as he looked me straight in the eyes. I lightly rubbed against him, and that's all it took for him to interrupt the intense moment.

"Fuck." He groaned as he stepped away from me.

"I'm not mad at you, I'm just jealous." I breathed my words, unable to gain my composure.

"I want no woman more than I want you." He brusquely replied. "Not even my wife."

Those words didn't comfort me much. Even though he desired me, he didn't claim me, so I was trapped in his world without being able to be part of it.

"Maybe we should keep our distance for the rest of the week. You shouldn't come into my office..." He looked at me again as I spoke.

"That's not an option."

"Mr. White–"

"No. I can barely stay away from you for a few hours."

"That's exactly the point!" I was exasperated. "If we keep going like this, I won't be able to guarantee that we won't break the rules."

I could almost feel him going through his thoughts and looking for a solution as he stared at me in silence. There were no solutions; he knew this much.

"Stop looking at me like that." I nervously mumbled.

"I can't help it."

I moved away from the desk and tidied up my dark green dress. "I'll see you on Friday, Mr. White." I was bursting with passion and felt like I couldn't stop myself.

"Come over tonight."

"You can't be serious. Have you listened to me at all?"

"I just want to work on the novel and talk to you like usual."

"Do I look like I'm able to handle you tonight, Mr. White?" I didn't. I was a total mess. He could see my panting, my reddened cheeks, and my watery eyes traveling all over him.

"You've never looked more inspiring." He looked down between my legs. "Exactly how wet are you?" I instinctively rubbed my thighs together in response to his rhetorical question. He was driving me insane.

"Be there at ten." He ordered, still keeping his distance despite my condition. What a mean man. Before I could verbally refuse, he left the office. Alone again, I sat back at my place and made myself orgasm in a couple of strokes. It felt good to release the tension but I also felt greedy.

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At ten, I was at his door. He'd texted me, saying he'd be bathing and that I was welcome to make myself at home. I spent the entire time in his office because I didn't want to run into Archer again. I was sitting on the window pane with one leg on the ground and the other on the frame when Mr. White finally came in. I had removed my green dress and was wearing only my dark, plain underwear. It didn't match, since I hadn't planned to meet anyone before the writer decided to invite me over. My hair was styled in an improvised ponytail, and I was partially covered by a white blanket.

He picked up my dress, tossed it on the sofa, and stood there, observing me silently twirl a glass of wine while gazing out the window. I hadn't realized he'd been in the room for quite some time. It was his raspy, deep, manly voice that drew my attention.

"You look like one of those tempting nymphs from ancient myths." I turned my chin toward him and smiled sweetly. All my anger, my jealousy, my frustration—it all disappeared the moment he spoke to me in that caring manner.

"I'm here to tempt you, somehow, so it's quite fitting."

"Let your hair down for me."

I removed my hair tie and let my auburn locks glow in the moonlight. It was a poetic moment that I couldn't let go of. My lips parted, a sigh left them and I spoke once more.

"When you first met me," I began to say. "What was going on in your head?"

He finally moved in my direction, with a tender smile on his lips. His steps were slow, and I could tell he was afraid to touch me because he kept his hands in his pockets.

"A whole new novel." Mr. White took out one of his hands from his pocket and placed it on the frame, right beside my leg. "That's the only place where I can actually have you to myself, that's why I hired you." He leaned towards me and erased the distance between his lips and my ear. "Right now in my head I'm fucking you right here, in front of the world, where everyone can hear you scream my name." His cologne was making me dizzy and his warmth was catastrophically addicting.

"I shouldn't be here right now..." I made a huge mistake by accepting his invitation. The whole situation was impossible to handle for me. I couldn't help it. I lacked the strength that I needed to resist him. The tip of his nose brushed into my skin at the base of my neck. A shiver navigated my legs and my whole body was tense for a few seconds. "You're making this impossible for me, Mr. White." His hot, almost damp breath trembled as he reached my chin with his lips. I tilted my head and faced the street, just so he could explore me for a little longer.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, while straightening his back and running his hand through his gray hair

"Don't be sorry, please. Be anything but sorry." I rose from the window frame and held the blanket to my chest, almost creating the illusion of a dress. "It's okay, I can handle this." It was the point of my personal challenge, wasn't it? "I'm yours, Mr. White. There's nothing you could do to me that should make you feel sorry." Muses are supposed to shape the artist, inspire them. I wanted to be good at least at that. 

"Come here." He put out two fingers and gestured for me to approach. I obeyed and stopped just a few inches from him. "You're being cute." He reached for my blanket and quickly let it fall, revealing my body beneath it. Soon after, he grabbed my bra with both hands and ripped it in half, exposing me completely on the top half.

I was so aroused. My breath was short and I was shivering with desire. He was just looking, yet it had such an intense effect on me. My pale, small breasts were looking appetizing, so much that Mr. White stepped back to look at them. I never drifted my eyes from his face. Every reaction pushed me over the edge, because I could see how he was struggling just as much as I was.

I also took a step back, hitting my back against the cold wall. "I could breathe on you and you'd cum." His observation was absolutely correct. "It's interesting."

"You're not being fair." I hissed, overwhelmed by the pleasure. "If you leave me like this I'd have to find someone to fuck."

His eyes jolted to mine. He was not happy with my words.

"Don't look at me like that, Mr. White." I scolded him. "I'm not the reason you can't touch me, am I?" He was the married one.

"I don't want to think about other men tasting you."

"I don't want to think about you fucking your wife either."

He sighed, bringing his eyes back to my face. "I shouldn't have invited you."

"I'll stay with you while you write." I picked up the blanket and covered myself up. My breath was still short. "But let's stop this."

For the next four hours I sat beside him, watching him write. I only got up to make food, bring water and smoke.