Rules are Made to be Broken Ch. 27

[Hello Lovers!

Ready for Chapter 27 of 29?...let's go then!

EG x]

The next morning, I wake up on my sofa, still dressed. I don't remember falling asleep -- the last thing I do remember was seeing the clock change to 4am and being relieved that I seemed to have stopped sobbing.

I grab my phone hopefully, but there's still nothing from Sam. For a moment I think I should just call him; at least to see if he got my package.

I scroll to his number and my finger hovers over the call button, but I stop myself before I hit it.

If he has received the package and still isn't calling then presumably it's too late? I've fucked it all up and I need to move on.

Besides, I'm going to be late for work if I don't get moving. At least I can bury myself in books and try to forget my troubles for a few hours.

* * * * *

'Jessica?' Mr Anderson's voice snaps me out of my own head and back to reality.

'Sorry Mr A, I didn't get much sleep last night. What did I miss?' I ask feigning a smile. He looks at me with concern,

'I was just saying, why don't you take an early lunch -- you look like you could do with some fresh air?' I'm pretty sure that's a kind way of saying I look like shit, but I'm grateful all the same, and fresh air does sound like a good idea.

As does a massive portion of Tina's patatas bravas, overloading on carbs is bound to make me feel better. I grab my coat and set off.

As I turn the corner and head for the entrance to Tina's; I look up and stop, frozen to the spot. I blink a few times, hoping that my over tired eyes are playing tricks on me but when I open them it's still true.

Sam is sitting in the restaurant and he's not alone.

He's sharing a table with a pretty blonde in a red dress. I catch a glimpse of the trademark Byron smile and my heart sinks before I finally find the ability to move again, turn on my heels and race back to the shop.

'That was quick!' Mr Anderson says as I get back.

'Not really hungry' I mutter vaguely.

'Jessica, you don't look well.' He continues, crossing to walk me over to the arm chair, putting his hand on my forehead to check my temperature. 'You feel okay,' he frowns, 'but you definitely don't look it. I'm going to call a taxi to take you home.' He continues, picking up the phone.

'I'm fine, really.' I protest. He looks at me in a way that reminds me of my dad

'You, Miss, are going home. And don't worry about Saturday either -- take a few days off and get yourself better.' His voice is firm but compassionate. I give him a half smile and a feeble nod.

'Okay, thank you. Don't worry about the taxi though, the walk might do me good.' Oh, how I wish a bit of fresh air and a few days off would fix the way I'm feeling.

* * * * *

I'm making my way home in a miserable daze when I hear a woman's voice call "Amber!" -- I scowl inwardly. Stupid Amber, cause of all my problems. "Amber!" it's louder this time, and closer too. I look up and see Crystal a few feet in front of me, elegant as ever in faux fur and oversized sunglasses, looking at me like I've grown an extra head.

'Darling, are you alright? you look absolutely dreadful.' She starts in her usual sensitive way. I try to come up with a sarky reply but instead burst into tears right there on the street. She rushes at me and holds me by the shoulders at arm's length 'Oh darling girl, let's get you to the office -- come along, Frank's parked on the corner.' Still sobbing, I let her lead me to the car.

Back at Crystal's desk she produces a box of tissues along with a bottle of Armagnac and two glasses. As she pours two generous measures, I can't help smirking at the irony --

'You know I still can't bear this stuff, right?' I tell her, taking a tiny sip.

'Yes, well -- it's an acquired taste -- you'll grow into it.' She replies. 'Now. I suspect there are two potential reasons for this uncharacteristic meltdown. Either you're pregnant, or you've fallen for a client. You're too clever for the former, so I'm going to assume this is about a certain young millionaire by the name of Sam Byron.'

Okay, I admit - she's good. I take a deep breath and tell her the whole sorry tale. When I'm finished, she doesn't say anything at first, just continues to watch me intently.

'So, you really do like him?' she asks at last.

'Crystal, I think I'm in love with him.' I reply honestly. Her expression gives nothing away.

'Well. A girl in love is really no good for me to have on my books; you'll be off your game in no time and you know how I feel about maintaining high standards.' She states calmly.

'Are you saying I'm fired?' my voice is unintentionally shrill.

'Don't be ridiculous darling girl, I'm saying let him continue to book you exclusively for a month or two and see where it goes.' She shrugs like it's no big deal, I shake my head firmly.

'I can't do that Crystal; I need to know if we work legitimately, not as a prepaid arrangement where I start off feeling like I owe him something. If I'm going to be with him, I want it to be on an even footing, not as an asset.' I reply sadly.

'Then take a sabbatical,' she shrugs again nonchalantly, 'you know I'll hold your job open; so, take some time off, live off your savings for a while. Who knows where you'll be a month from now? That saucy little book of yours just might explode and make you richer than him!' I laugh.

'That would be amazing, but unfortunately in the meantime, my savings barely cover a month's rent.' I sigh despondently. Crystal rolls her eyes at me in despair.

'Oh, darling girl. Did you actually read your contract when you started working for me?'

'Um, I mostly skimmed it.' I admit, 'To be honest, I just went with it at the time before I chickened out.' I add sheepishly.

She rolls her eyes again and opens a drawer in the filing cabinet behind her, pulling out a Manila folder and pushing it across the desk to me.

'Rule number one: I take very good care of my precious jewels.' She motions for me to open the folder. Puzzled, I do and look down at the contents.

It's a bank statement, for an offshore account by the looks of it. Suddenly everything goes into freeze frame and I hear myself gasp. The balance of the account is £128,651. And it's in my name. All of the information is in front of me, but I'm still struggling to join the dots.

'How... What?' evidently, I'm struggling to form full sentences too.

'Ten percent of everything you've ever earned working for me. Plus reinvested interest along the way.' Crystal offers by way of explanation. 'I do it for all of you girls - a pension come emergency rainy-day fund.' She adds dismissively as if it's no big deal.

'And I can use this to take time off?' I reply in disbelief.

'You can use it for whatever you like darling, it's your money.'

My head is spinning. It's like a golden ticket. I can explore the possibility of being with Sam; give him what he wants in terms of exclusivity, without needing to be financially dependent on him. It's perfect!

I can't contain my glee. I jump up and round Crystal's desk to hug her, much to her disdain. It's ironic really that she's not the touchy-feely type.

Once I've sat back down, still staring at the piece of paper that might be the answer to all my problems she's all business again.

'So, I'll arrange a cash transfer, shall we say twenty thousand?' I nod dumbly. I've never had that much money all at once in my life, 'and shall I clear your calendar for one month or two?' She's half smiling now.

'One.' I reply. 'There's still the matter of a mystery blonde I don't know what to do about - I don't want to count my chickens before they're hatched.'

'Darling, need I remind you that your Mr Byron once paid eight thousand pounds for two hours of your time? This blonde could be anybody, or nobody. She's definitely not another precious jewel, I can tell you that much!' no, I think, but she could easily be from another agency. I feel sick at the thought, remembering how angry he was, and knowing what his natural instincts lean to when he needs to regain control. Crystal continues 'As you wish though, one month, effective immediately; your job will be waiting if you decide you want it back, but much as it pains me to say, I doubt that's very likely.' She smiles warmly at me. 'Good luck Jessica, keep me up to date.'

It's not until after I've left the office that I realise she used my real name for the first time in three years.

As I walk down the street with a newfound sense of optimism and intention, I start thinking about the next stage of mission get my man back; hoping with everything I've got that he still wants me.

* * * * *

I glance at the time on my phone -- nearly seven o'clock. Far too early to be in the back of a black cab in a silk cocktail dress, really. I doubt I've ever looked more like a high-class call girl in my life! I giggle inwardly at the irony.

I've taken a lot of black cab rides in the last three years, but I've never been as anxious as I am right now. I try to breathe deeply to calm my racing pulse. I fiddle with my Jessica pendant as I run through in my head what I want to say for the millionth time.

As the car rounds a corner, Sam's building comes into view and my stomach flips.

'This the one flower?' The driver asks from the front, I nod & take a deep breath.

I see Sam and my heart leaps. He's standing in the doorway, illuminated from behind looking delectable in dark denim and a slim fitting white shirt, smiling warmly -- has it really only been a day since those lips were on mine?

Then I notice the red convertible parked outside.

And the petite blonde I saw him with earlier getting out and walking towards him. Then her hand on his shoulder as she kisses him on both cheeks before he ushers her inside. I feel sick.

'Actually, can you keep going please?' my voice comes out tiny and the cabbie looks puzzled.

'You alright flower?' he asks and I nod

'Yeah, fine -- just forgot something at home.' I try to smile then look at my phone for a distraction so he won't see my tears falling on his back seat.

* * * * *

I wake up on my sofa, curled up in a ball. I check the time and it's after ten - there's an old black and white movie on TV but I have no idea what it is. I only turned it on as a distraction when I gave up trying to read after staring at the same paragraph for twenty minutes.

I can't get the image of Sam and that pretty blonde out of my head. Who is she? My replacement? Is he getting over me by thrashing her in his playroom instead? Am I even allowed to care?

A knock at the door makes me jump.

I open it and half wonder if I'm still asleep. Nope, definitely awake, dream me wouldn't be wearing yoga pants and a vest top with no bra. Sam Byron is definitely standing at my door.

'Hey beautiful' he says quietly, tentatively almost. I burst into a fit of nervous giggles and he looks at me, confused, questioning my reaction.

'Bit kind' I squeak, pointing at the messy bun piled on my head and my generally un-beautiful attire.

'All in the eye of the beholder I guess.' he shrugs, 'I know it's late, but can I come in?' I nod and open the door wider to let him inside. I resume my position on the sofa and he sits cautiously at the other end.

'So, I got your package' he starts.

'And?' I ask, not completely sure if I want to hear the answer.

'And I'm sorry Jessica, so sorry. I was completely out of line. I was disrespectful and I said things I shouldn't have. I wouldn't blame you if you asked me to leave-'

'You're sorry?' I cut him off, 'I'm the one who needs to be sorry Sam! Sorry I wasn't up front with you and sorry you found out the way the way you did!' he locks me in with those amazing blue eyes as I trail off. He slides up the sofa so that he's sitting next to me, and takes my hand in his.

'Jess, you're freezing!' he says, shrugging out of his jacket and draping it around my shoulders, 'how long have you been sitting here?' I shrug as he pulls me closer and feel my breath catch in my throat as he wraps his arms around me, rubbing me for warmth. I fight the urge to burrow into his chest.

'I hate thinking of you in that -- situation.' He says quietly. He means what happened with Clarke, of course.

'I didn't tell you about the past so you'd feel sorry for me,' I start, 'I just wanted to be straight with you about how I ended up where I am.'

He stares at me with an expression I can't read.

'Sam, I'm fine. Really.' I smile brightly as if to prove my point and he noticeably relaxes just a little. He breaks away and strokes my hair gently.

'I still wish I could convince you to quit. I know you're not doing it because you want to -- if you'd let me help, you could concentrate on writing -- you're obviously talented,' he stops himself, knowing he's on dangerous ground, especially now that he knows about Clarke.

'I just wish you'd let me take care of you. I'd never let anybody hurt you, Jessica.' He finishes, and I can't help the small giggle that escapes by lips.

Realising the irony of what he's just said, he smiles and adds

'well, except me; and only ever in a good way.'

'I can handle that.' I reply with a smile,

'Really?' there's a crack in his usually unshakeable confidence, I nod.

'Really. Maybe we could even try things your way -- ', his eyes widen, then before I can say another word, his mouth is on mine, kissing me deeply and in that moment, nothing else matters.

His jacket falls to the floor as I move to straddle him, kissing him back for all I'm worth, locking myself to this maddening, wonderful man I thought I had lost.

I can feel him getting hard underneath me as his hands roam across my back, holding me tighter, claiming me as his own. I pull away a fraction to whisper in his ear,

'Take me to bed.'

Standing, he cups my behind and I wrap my legs around him tight as he stalks towards my bedroom.

* * * * *

Afterwards, we're laying in a tangle of sheets and limbs, his right arm holding me close to him, tracing lazy circles on my midriff.

'So, I guess you don't hate me then?' I whisper, planting a light kiss against his nipple.

'As if I ever could. I love you too much.' He answers, pulling me closer

'I love you too.' I whisper back

'Besides, I don't have enough friends to start throwing them away remember?' he replies, tightening his hold. 'So, you missed me?' he asks with a grin, blatantly fishing for compliments.

'Yes. I did.' I reply bashfully. 'I've gotten quite used to having you around.' I reply honestly.

'Oh, so it's just the friendly banter you've been craving then?' he teases.

'Not exactly.' I admit.

'What else then?' he asks, his hand moving to caress my behind

'Oh, I think you can guess' I whisper back.

'Maybe.' He counters, 'but I want to hear you say it.' Smiling, I move so that I'm straddling his chest and kiss him briefly.

'I missed you making love to me,' I kiss him again, 'and fucking me,' I brush my tongue against his, 'and Dominating me.' he kisses me hard before flipping me onto my back in one fluid movement, effortlessly pinning both my wrists above my head in one hand.

'Is that so, Miss Blake?' he asks from above me.

'Yes, Sir.' I reply in a whisper

'Would you like me to refresh your memory?' he smiles, eyes darkening as he rubs his free hand between my legs.

I lift my hips to meet his touch. In this moment, I want nothing more than to submit to the man I love. To let him take control, to get lost in his intentions and let all the stress and heartache of the last few days melt away in a blur of pleasure.

'Yes please, Sir.'

'Well, it's a little late to take you back to the playroom, but I'm sure we can improvise here.' he muses. Inspiration strikes and he opens my bedside drawer.

He takes out a long string of anal beads and smiles.

'These will do nicely.'

He lifts a silk scarf from my dresser too and repositions me on all fours, at an angle so that he can tie both my wrists to one bedpost.

'Perfect.' He states, landing a hard smack on my right cheek as he stands back to admire his work.

My pussy clenches at the thought of what's coming. There are ten beads in all, the smallest is the size of a marble, the largest a ping pong ball, held together with an inch of grey silk cord between each one.

'Where were we...', he murmurs, slipping two fingers easily into my wet pussy. I gasp as he uses my own cream to lubricate my tightest hole and pushes another finger inside. He trails the string of beads up against my spine.

'Would you like these inside you Jessica?'

'Yes please, Sir' I reply eagerly.

He pushes the first three beads inside easily, slipping a finger in too as if to prove a point. He leans forward and licks my puckered hole before pushing in the fourth and fifth. I moan in enjoyment of the fullness. The sixth bead starts to stretch me open, and I push back against it, inadvertently taking his finger again too. I yelp in shock rather than pain.

'Enough?' He asks

'No. I'd like more please Sir.' I reply over my shoulder, watching as he smiles and pushes the next bead against my opening.

I relax my body and breathe deeply as he eases the last four beads slowly inside me, one by one until I'm panting through my own desire.

'You really are incredible Jessica.' He says in a low voice, standing to get a good look at me, bound and displaying my full ass for him wantonly. 'Now let's fill up your sweet little pussy too.'

He kneels behind me and slides his hard cock easily into my wet slit. I push back to take him as deep as I can, moaning with lust, pulling against the restraints keeping my arms in place. He grips my hips, stilling me. Clearly, he plans to take his time.

He fucks me slowly, but deeply, giving me every inch of his cock so that I feel impossibly full. He groans deeply with each stroke; I imagine the beads in my ass are massaging him through my pussy. I feel his thumb nudge against the largest bead, keeping it place and pushing it further at the same time. I'm panting and writhing now, pulling against my restraints, pushing back against him, willing him to let me come.

'Are you ready to come for me Jessica?' He asks, reading my thoughts

'Yes Sir, so ready!' I wail back at him.

'Then do it, let me feel you come around me.'

His words are exactly what I want to hear and I push back against him one last time, taking his thick cock to the hilt and making his whole thumb slip inside my ass to join the beads. I scream in pleasure at the increased fullness as my orgasm rushes through me.

As my breathing starts to settle, he removes his thumb and gently tugs on the end of the string of the beads, making me writhe through a whole new wave of pleasure. As I think he's about to remove them, I hear him growl,

'Oh, we're not done yet beautiful' as he starts to fuck me harder, each stroke more urgent than the last, slamming himself into me deeply, faster, over and over.

Slowly, he starts to pull the beads out of me one by one, making me come again as he finds his own release deep inside me, moaning my name with desire.

As he composes himself, he covers my behind in soft, tender kisses that make me tingle before crawling across the bed to untie my wrists and take me in his arms.

We lie together for a few minutes, him on his back, and me on my side with my head on his chest, both breathing deeply. The arm that's holding me to him drops to my behind and strokes me gently.

'You okay?' He asks softly. I nod against him,

'Never better.' I smile. And it's true. I am utterly sated. He always knows exactly what my body needs.

'I think we might have to investigate the rest of your drawer of tricks at a later date.' He grins. As he pulls me in tighter, I can't help smiling contentedly as I feel my eyes closing.

I suddenly remember that I haven't told him about my meeting with Crystal yet, or asked him about the blonde. I consider asking him who she is, but I don't want to spoil the moment. Besides, I'm exhausted, and my eyes are too heavy to argue with right now...