Down n' Dirty Page 2

Callie grinned as she showed me the pocket mirror she had in her hand. “I was watching you.”

  Hot damn.

  “If you stand in front of a car I’m working underneath then of course I’m going to be able to see up your dress,” I said, trying my hardest to work my way out of the situation I was in. I could tell Callie was enjoying my discomfort immensely.

  “That doesn’t explain how long you were staring.”

  Well, fuck. If that was the case then I was as well using filthy humor to derail the conversation.

  I cocked an eyebrow. “I was just wondering how you weren’t cold wearing so little under there.”

  To my satisfaction, Callie blushed, and my dick only grew harder. I hoped she couldn’t see my hard-on in the shadows cast by the car.

  She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, bending down just a little lower. I could see down the top of her dress, to the equally lacy and barely-there bra that matched her panties.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “Maybe I’m just a little too hot and need to cool down,” Callie murmured, smirking when she saw the look on my face. Then she righted herself back to a standing position. “I’ll hide the pie in my dad’s office in the filing cabinet. He’ll never look there.”

  And then she was gone.

  “Did you see her ass?!” I vaguely heard David mutter under his breath to Jason. “What I wouldn’t give to—”

  “What I wouldn’t give to hear you stop talking about her like that,” I bellowed from beneath the car, though I couldn’t slide out to shout properly at the two of them while I still had an erection.

  Jason tutted in indignation. “Girl bends over like that is just asking for us to comment on her ass. It’s just the way it is.”

  But Callie had been bending low to talk to me. The sinfully perfect curves of her ass would have been on show for all who walked past as a by-product of her trying to flirt with me. The guys weren’t going to stop talking about her if she kept parading in front of me for my attention.

  I had to get her under control, for her own good.

  And for mine.

  Chapter Three

  Callie

  Two weeks had passed and, so far, I was fairly certain I was driving Desmond crazy.

  Okay, I wasn’t sure if that was in a good way or in a bad way. I might have merely been annoying him. But, either way, he was paying attention to me, and that was a start.

  Yet no matter what I did—bending low to talk to him beneath a car chassis, sticking my ass out as I rubbed wax into a car bonnet, dropping a French fry between my boobs and artfully fishing it out—Desmond simply wouldn’t take the bait.

  Maybe he really was gay.

  I could only laugh at the thought. Desmond Rivers definitely wasn’t gay, if his erection upon looking up my dress was anything to go by. But there had be no further physical reactions to me, involuntary or otherwise.

  Clearly I had to get a whole lot more drastic with my attempts at seducing him.

  “Callie, love, did you get the checking account balanced for last month?” dad asked me as he absent-mindedly filled out the crossword in today’s paper. “You know I’d do it myself, but—”

  “Don’t worry about it, dad, it’s already done,” I smiled, patting his shoulder when I walked passed him. “This month’s is up-to-date, too. By the time I’ve finished working here for summer I’ll have that app finished and set up to make the accounting so much easier.”

  “You’re an angel.”

  “I’m just a De Luca.”

  Dad loved it when I said that. When I glanced behind me before exiting the office I saw he was beaming at me, clearly proud. Though I’d never worked hard at school and college simply to impress my parents I couldn’t help but admit it felt damn good to know they liked the way I was turning out. Both of them had worked so hard their whole lives, after all, so it was only natural that their work ethic had rubbed off on me.

  “Keep this up and he’ll be begging you to quit college and take over the business side of things by the end of the year.”

  “Like that’ll ever happen, Desmond,” I replied, so quickly that I didn’t realize for a moment who I was actually speaking to. Resisting the urge to give Desmond my immediate attention, I sauntered over to car he was working on and looked it over, as if I were looking for a fault in the way he was servicing it. I knew the job he was doing was flawless, naturally. He wasn’t my dad’s best mechanic for nothing.

  “You never know, Callie,” Desmond said. He slammed the bonnet down on the car and sat on it, blue eyes twinkling at me outrageously. “He might make a small-town mechanic of you yet.”

  “Yeah, that sounds exactly like my life plan.”

  “We both know you know your way around a car better than half the guys in here.”

  “Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you have to pursue it as a career,” I countered. Desmond inclined his head in concession, which was gratifying.

  His overalls were half off and tied around his waist, leaving his top half covered by a white, oil-stained vest. Desmond’s arms were annoyingly on show; I wondered if he was doing it deliberately.

  Just who is playing who, here? I thought, cocking my head to one side to regard him suspiciously. He’s been actively avoiding looking at me for days, so what’s this all about?

  Desmond coughed and grabbed a wrench and a cloth and watched his hands as he cleaned off the tool. “I’m just saying, I’ve never seen Charles so happy as when you’re around to help him out. He appreciates it more than you know, Callie. Figured you should know that.”

  I waggled a finger at him, risking taking a couple step towards him. “Don’t you go emotionally manipulating me into dropping my future, high-flying city career, Mr. Rivers. That’s no very fair of you.”

  “Oh, and walking about like literal sex on legs is fair for me?”

  Desmond’s gaze was steady and sure on my face. I bit my lip. It was the most direct thing he’d ever said in response to what I was doing.

  I gave him just the smallest shrug of my shoulders. “Am I not allowed to make my attraction to you obvious?”

  Desmond chuckled. He continued to wipe down the wrench, though it was clean. “I guess there’s no law against it. Won’t you give up?”

  “And why should I?” I demanded, knowing I sounded childish. “It’s not like you’ve asked me to stop.”

  “Is this me not asking you to stop, Callie?”

  I hesitated. Was he really? Did I honestly have to stop trying to catch him attention? I shifted a little uncomfortably on the spot. “I know you like me,” I muttered, risking calling Desmond out on his attraction.

  “Of course I do, you brat. I’ve known you for years. You’re like a little sister to—”

  “No I’m not.” I moved forward another few paces until my legs were almost touching Desmond’s. I glanced down at his hands, wishing they were stroking something other than the damn wrench. I smoothed my hands over my silk shirt and down across the figure-hugging black skirt I was wearing. “I’ve never been ‘like a little sister’ to you. And I’m not a brat.”

  “Stop doing this, Callie,” Desmond growled, voice low and raspy. There was a glint in his eye I thoroughly enjoyed. His hands stopped moving; I could see the muscles tensing in his arms. “Stop trying to push me over the edge.”

  I pouted. “And why not? Don’t you want to know what kind of lingerie I have on today? You were very interested when I—ah!”

  There must have been a screw or a tool of some kind on the floor, but I slipped up on whatever it was as I took another step forward, sending me sprawling onto Desmond’s lap where he sat on the car.

  “This is why heels are stupid,” Desmond laughed, clearly enjoying watching me making a fool of myself when I was trying to be sexy. He helped me up to my feet as I scrabbled to regain my composure; when he looked down pointedly at my shirt I followed his gaze.

  The white silk was covered in oil and grease.


  “Shit!” I exclaimed. “That won’t wash out. Damn it damn it damn it.”

  I left Desmond’s side to head into the back room, where I kept a spare change of clothes just in case such accidents occurred. I might have been a brat but I wasn’t an idiot.

  “Do you need a change of—oh. Guess I am seeing what lingerie you’re wearing today.”

  I hadn’t expected Desmond to follow me through to the changing room. Clearly he hadn’t expected me to start unbuttoning my shirt without closing the door.

  He closed it for me.

  I quirked an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t interested in me?”

  “I’m standing guard to make sure none of the other guys get an eyeful,” Desmond replied, smirking as he inclined his head towards the door. “I don’t imagine you want them to see you in your bra.”

  I gave him a small smile. “Not particularly, no. I have standards.”

  “They must be pretty low, if you’re trying to catch my attention.”

  I didn’t reply.

  It turned out the oil and grease had embedded themselves in my skirt, too, though it hadn’t initially been apparent because the fabric was black. Sighing, I began to unzip the back of it and kicked off my heels, until a hand upon my wrists stopped me.

  “What are you doing taking your skirt off?” Desmond asked, He looked flustered, which set my heart racing.

  My lips curled into a small smile as I pressed up against him. Desmond’s hand tightened on my wrist. “You got oil on it. Guess I’ll just have to change my whole outfit.”

  He glanced downwards. “You’re only going to get more grime on your clothes standing that close to me.”

  Once more, I didn’t reply, instead choosing to grind slightly against Desmond just to see what he would do. I could see a flush of heat creeping up his neck and, against my legs, the obvious hardness of a growing erection.

  Keep your cool, Callie, I chanted. Keep your cool. Make him have to admit to being attracted to you.

  Desmond ran a hand through his hair and looked away. “Callie, we shouldn’t do this.”

  “Then walk away,” I said, before wiggling out of my skirt with his hand still on my wrist. When the material hit the floor with a soft thump Desmond instinctively shifted me so he was between me and the door.

  Looking out for my modesty, even now, I thought. It felt good to have him respect me enough to do such a thing, even as I was stripping in front of him.

  “Let me go, Desmond,” I ordered, very quietly, when he finally looked back at me. “I need to finish taking off my shirt…unless you’d take it off for me?”

  “I think you’d better take it off yourself,” he replied when he let me go, though the unevenness of his breath suggested otherwise.

  I kept eye contact as I reached up and finished undoing the buttons of my ruined shirt. One by one by one they came away, revealing the nude-colored lace underwear I was wearing. When my shirt joined my skirt on the floor Desmond stared unashamedly at my breasts.

  I fingered the sleeves of his overalls tied around his waist, playfully grinding against him while Desmond’s breathing got faster. And his erection was even bigger than before; when I slid a leg between his it pressed against my thigh. I thought about it being inside me and my own breathing got faster.

  “Fuck, Callie…” Desmond uttered. His hands were trembling mere inches from my hips, as if torn between pulling my hands away and pushing me on to the bench that lay behind us.

  I pulled him in as close as I possibly could, until my chin rested on his chest as I looked up at him beneath heavy-lidded eyes.

  “Won’t you touch me, Desmond?” I asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible. “I’ve been aching for you to do so for such a long, long time.”

  When his fingers brushed against the line of my panties my breathing hitched. I was already hot and wet between my thighs, wanton and waiting for Desmond to man up and run his fingers over my clit.

  He bent down until his mouth was by my ear. “And what do you do when you think about me touching you, Callie?”

  “I touch myself, of course,” I replied, so matter-of-factly I almost laughed. I put my hand over one of his and placed it over my panties, running his fingers against my clit until I moaned. “I touch myself there, and then I think of your cock inside me and put my fingers up my pussy, too.”

  “Fuck.”

  “You’ve been saying that a lot. Won’t you do it instead of say it?”

  When Desmond bit my earlobe I held back a gasp. His fingers began moving over my clit of their own accord, and we began moving until my back hit the lockers.

  Had I really done it? Had I finally broken Desmond’s resolve to leave me alone?

  “Callie,” Desmond began, his voice so rough it was barely audible.

  And then the doorknob rattled behind us.

  “Someone in here?” my dad called.

  Desmond jerked away from me immediately, and I thrust my hand inside my locker and pulled on my spare dress and grabbed my clothes from the floor just as he walked in.

  I smiled sheepishly. “Hey, dad. I got oil on my clothes.”

  He glanced at Desmond then back at me, though he didn’t say anything about the two of us being in the changing room together. Desmond exited the room without so much as a glance in my direction, though I had to wonder if his heart was beating just wildly as mine was. It felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.

  When I got home I couldn’t deal with how horny and excited I was. I’d gotten Desmond to surrender. I could do it again.

  He liked the idea of me touching myself, I thought, pulling out my cell phone as I eyed my reflection in the mirror. I had his number. I had all of my dad’s employee’s numbers.

  “Just thought you’d appreciate visual proof of what I do when I think of you touching me,” I murmured as I typed the same words into my phone, before stripping down to my underwear and sliding my panties away just enough that Desmond would be able to see my fingers stroking my clit in a photo.

  I took a few, just to be sure the one I sent him was perfect, of course. When finally I selected one I wasted no time in sending it away. I didn’t expect to get a reply. That was stupid. But when I saw that he’d read it I couldn’t help but smile as I continued to touch myself.

  He was mine, and he knew it.

  It was only a matter of how long he’d try and resist me after my dad almost caught us. Glancing at my photo, something told me it wouldn’t be very long at all.

  Chapter Four

  Desmond

  Here I was, jerking off in the storage cupboard for the fourth time this month like a creep. But what else was I supposed to do when Callie sent me a photo of her working in the office with the blinds closed, in her underwear, with the accompanying message of, ‘man, it’s hot in here today’?

  Charles was out working an on-site job and wouldn’t be back for another couple of hours, of course. Callie would never risk doing something so outrageous if her dad were around. But she knew I was around, and that’s why she was doing this.

  She really was killing me—and my right hand.

  This was the seventh photo she’d sent me, but only the first time she’d sent me one in real time at the office. Usually I’d get them late at night, or just after I’d gotten in from work, and my cock would be in my hand before I had time to really think things through.

  The sight of Callie disheveled and half-naked while touching herself was destroying me. It was the most painful kind of pleasure. What was even worse was that I longed for the next photo to be sent, though of course I hadn’t responded to a single one of them.

  But Callie knew I was receiving them. Going by the smug little smiles she threw my way in the shop, she also knew how much I was enjoying them.

  I wondered how long this dance of ours could possibly last. I was still scared out of my skin from her dad literally almost walking in on me feeling up his mostly-naked daughter. His only child. I was ashamed of myself.


  Except I wasn’t. Not really. I wanted Callie, now more than ever before, and going by how much she wanted me there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

  Except for the fact she’s my boss’ daughter, and technically kind of also my boss, and ten years younger than me, and…

  I could come up with a dozen excuses for why I shouldn’t indulge my insatiable impulse to screw Callie senseless, but that didn’t alter the fact that my resolve was failing. Crumbling away to nothing. All it had taken was for the girl to stand in front of me in her underwear and I’d been willing to fuck her at work, for crying out loud.

  What was she going to try next? I was both terrified and excited to find out.

  With a sigh of relief I came into the wad of tissues I was holding, which I promptly buried deep in the trash. When I walked past Charles’ office I lingered by the door, wondering if Callie was still sitting in her dad’s chair, half-naked.

  I didn’t expect her to throw open the blinds and then the door while I was still standing there. She was fully clothed once more—thank god—but there was an edge to the smirk on her lips which was far filthier than her being naked, somehow.

  “You spend an awful long time in the storage cupboard these days,” she mused, as if discussing the weather. “Funny how you never seem to bring anything out of the room, though. It’s almost as if you’re going in there for another purpose entirely.”

  I cracked a smile. “How observant of you.”

  “It must get pretty cramped in there,” Callie said, leaning against the doorframe as she did so. The top two buttons of her shirt were undone—something which she never did while working. Her tits were big enough that merely having two buttons undone allowed me to see quite a lot of cleavage; my cock stirred back to life despite the fact I’d only just come in the storage cupboard.

  Traitor, I thought at it while Callie looked me up and down.

  “I think you presume too much, Callie,” I told her, before glancing around to check nobody was nearby. Most people were at lunch; Callie and I were alone.

  She quirked an eyebrow, crossing her arms beneath her chest to lift her boobs up just that little bit higher. “I think I presume exactly the right amount, Desmond. Are you enjoying my photos?”