Working With Cupid, page 8
part #1 of Chicago Sapphics Series
"There has to be more that I can do," she says harshly. Her face is locked with determination, erasing her earlier softness. "It's my job to deal with anything and everything that interferes with your work life, even if it's handling someone like Britney."
Her hands flex at her sides having said her piece, making my heart race. I do not deserve this level of loyalty after how I've treated her, yet she gives it to me anyway.
"You are different from the others," I whisper, awe coursing through my veins. Different isn't a bold enough word to express how far she separates herself from the rest; the past experiences that I would rather never think about again. Nicolette Richter is in a class of her own, and I am more than fortunate to have her on my side.
A teasing hint of pink stains her cheeks as she speaks, "Thank you, I think?"
"You are the only assistant who has been willing to stick around. I have my suspicions on why they left, but—I have no proof." I sigh, knocking my fist against my desk. The lack of proof, a careless oversight solely on me and my unwillingness to confront the actual problem. "I just want you to know that I see your effort, and I am sorry for my shortcomings. Britney brings out the worst in me and I let her do it."
"If you don't mind me asking, why?" she asks, worrying her bottom lip again.
The movement drives me insane. I don't want her to think she has to hold back for my sake, not anymore.
Swallowing what's left of my pride, I drop my shoulders. "Honestly?"
"Honesty is sexy." She winks.
Honesty is sexy, and she deserves mine despite how unsexy the truth actually is. "I hold a level of responsibility for her actions," I admit. My displaced anger and denials may have originated with Britney's lack of respect for my boundaries, but I let it continue, and that's on me. "She threw herself at me and I let my ego take over. How's that for sexy?" I ask.
"Accountability is even sexier." She laughs as her pink tinged cheeks darken. "We all make mistakes. You learned from yours and established boundaries. She keeps pushing for more. That's not healthy for either of you, Anastasia," she says.
Loyal, yet she still cares for everyone's health. If it were anyone else, I wouldn't believe it. But with Nicolette, I believe her words aren't manufactured to trick me or garner something more than what we already have.
My fingers ghost along her cheek as I whisper, "You really are too sweet for your own good, Nicolette." Her beautiful eyes widen, giving me a glimpse of the spark we've kindled lurking behind them, spurring me to continue. "You have a work ethic that rivals mine, which is a feat in itself. You are unbelievably kind, even when one does not deserve as much and…"
"And?"
"You are incredibly sexy when you meet my challenges head on." I smirk before pressing a kiss to her cheek.
The heat radiating from her face leaves a tingle on my lips that travels to every limb of my body. She melts against my touch, her body relaxing against mine. "I like it when you challenge me."
I dot several kisses down her jaw to the corner of her mouth where a tiny dimple I hadn't noticed before now sits. My fingers trail from her cheek, down to her neck, appreciating her quickening pulse. It does something for me, knowing that I do this to her; that I push her beyond what she expects.
"Like this?" I ask.
Her pulse flutters frantically against my fingers before she responds. "Y-Yes."
I pull away from her slowly and step back toward my desk until my ass hits the corner. I lift myself on top of the desk; an idea, a challenge swirling in my mind. "Pick a seat, Miss Richter."
Uncertainty passes over her face, the question burning in her mind on which chair to pick. Slowly, she steps toward my chair, the one I sat in as she made me come with her deliciously sweet tongue. "Sit and lift your feet to the desk," I direct, turning to face her completely.
"Yes, ma'am." She plants her heels firmly on the ledge of the desk. Her thighs press together, concealing the parts of her I want to see most.
My tongue clicks against the roof of my mouth, releasing an audible tsk through my office. "Touch yourself for me."
Her legs part for me immediately, revealing the sexiest, dusty pink lace thong I have ever seen in my life. Saliva pools under my tongue as I watch her run her fingers over the material before pulling it to the side. "Like what you see?" she asks teasingly.
"Fuck, yes," I rasp, mesmerized by the sight of her finger disappearing between her slit. Wetness coats the crease of my thighs as she spreads herself open for me, before moving her fingers up and giving attention to her swollen nub. It doesn't take long for her arousal to seep through, painting her pretty cunt glossy for me as her legs to stiffen. "Are you going to come for me, bunny?"
"Yes, yes, yes," she chants, lifting her hips slightly as she chases her pleasure.
I lick my lips and slip my hand down the front of my pants, rubbing my painfully swollen clit in the same pattern as her until my body trembles. Our heady moans meld together as pleasure detonates over her face. Her eyes roll back, forcing her long lashes to flutter and her mouth to part wide, giving me all I need to reach ecstasy with her.
"That was…" she huffs, breathlessly.
"Sexy," I offer, shrugging my shoulder as I slide my arousal coated fingers free from the confines of my now extremely wet pants.
She bows her head, shielding her shy smile. "Very sexy."
I glance at the clock on my computer screen, groaning when I realize it's nearly eleven. As much as I enjoy staying late for reasons as sweet as Nicolette, I know it's best that I get her out of the office. "Do you need a ride home?"
"I can take a cab." She yawns as she drops her heeled boots from my desk. A sigh of relief leaves me as she holds out her hand, seemingly unaffected by my not-so-smooth attempts to leave.
I place my hand in hers, lowering my feet to the floor. "I will see you in the morning," I whisper. Leaning forward, I press my lips to hers briefly. "Good night, Miss Richter."
Her smile brightens a fraction as she dips her head and walks away, leaving a teasing waft of lavender and honey in her wake.
Chapter fifteen
Wednesday, February 12 th, 2025
"Lettie," Sophie huffs. "Are you ready to go yet?"
I turn the corner from my bedroom, my ankle boots in sight on the shoe rack next to the front door. Flicking my eyes to our breakfast bar, I see her sitting on the stool, looking at her empty coffee cup in irritation. Sliding my feet into the boots, I’m pleased to see they fit well over my thick, wool socks. "Is Izzy letting you take her SUV? The roads are slippery this morning," I say. The annoying weather alert that pinged my phone until I bothered to look at it, let me know that the roads are awful. Not that it's any surprise. This week has had some brutal weather already.
She flips her long, blonde curls over her shoulder before giving me a firm once-over. "Yes, now let's go. I wanna get some coffee before dropping you off."
"Why didn't you make a cup while I got ready?" I ask, opening the front door.
"Because I want to try that cafe by your work."
Smiling, I follow behind her and close the door behind me as I recall the quaint cafe ran by the curly haired red head. "I stopped there the other day, It's a cute place. I like that Quinn opens early."
The bitter wind whips around us as we step carefully to Izzy's vehicle, masking her dramatic gasp. "What the hell, Lettie? Why didn't you tell me, you know I love cafés," she whines.
I shrug. "If it makes you feel better, I only got something for my boss."
"Speaking of your boss, how do you like working with Cupid?" she asks before clicking the key fob to unlock the doors.
The prospect of warmth spurs my need to open the door. My teeth chatter as another gust of wind billows past me while I slide onto the heated passenger seat. "Uh—it's good."
"Good?" she scoffs. "Oh my God, you hate it, don't you?"
"No!" I snap reflexively, ready to defend my love of the job. I'll be damned if I let anyone accuse me of hating my work. It may have only been a few days, but I can already tell that I want to be there for as long as Anastasia will have me. Seeing how Anastasia runs her company, the massive amount of work she does behind the scenes, and meeting people like Cameron and the twins who look to Cupid for guidance, has made me realize just how special the company is. How special she is.
Sophie pulls us out of the driveway cautiously, merging onto the poorly plowed road toward Quinn's Cafe and Cupid. "Woah, no need to get snippy with me."
"I like working for Anastasia—a lot," I say, soaking in the heat from the vents and my seat as they warm me from the outside in.
"That's great, Lettie." There's a hint of pride in her voice, and it settles my need to defend myself. "I know how much you've wanted this job."
Her words pull at my heart, a reminder that my sisters, no matter how much we get on each other's nerves, are always listening to my dreams. "What about you?" I ask.
I watch her eyes shutter briefly before she blinks the shadows away, pretending they were never there. Slushing ice against the tires fills the silence voiding between us for several minutes before she bothers to answer. "What about me?'
"How has work been?" I ask softly, hoping I haven't upset her. Guilt pangs in my chest. I've been so busy the last few months in preparation for my own goals that I haven't kept up with my sisters as much as I would have liked to. "I haven't seen your blog as active—"
"I'm considering taking a break from blogging." Her lips press firmly against each other before she continues. "I just want to enjoy the things I love again."
I quietly accept her answer, even though I can tell she's holding back on me. Burnout, especially during the holidays, is enough to sap the muse from anyone. Soph has always been the creative one in our house, making art in and out of the kitchen. Maybe Quinn's will be enough to bring her sparkle back. We sit in silence for the remainder of the drive, which isn't long surprisingly.
"We're here," she announces as she pulls into an empty parking space in front of Quinn's.
I open the door, slowly stepping back out into the cold before slamming the door behind me. Soph rounds the SUV quickly, making a dash toward the cafe entrance. Taking her lead, I follow her steps to the icy glass door. A subtle chime rings out as we make our way into the heated building, alerting Quinn to our arrival. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans and cinnamon filters through the air, warming me from the inside out. Walking into Quinn's reminds me of home, back when Mom and Soph would cook breakfast for everyone before school and special holiday celebrations.
"Good morning. Welcome to Quinn's Cafe," Quinn greets. "I'll be right with you."
"Good morning," I mumble, still lost in my memories of the past and wondering if this little café brings the same memories to Sophie.
Quinn gently clears her throat, pulling me back to reality. "Hello again, Nicolette—right?"
I smile at the cafe owner and offer her my hand. "That's me. I'm surprised you remember my name."
Her hand meets mine in a firm shake, pleasant, but does nothing for me like Anastasia's touch. "And who is the gorgeous woman next to you?"
She politely pulls her hand from me and turns her attention toward Soph, a deep shade of red decorating her freckled cheeks. "This is my older, but not oldest sister, Sophie," I introduce, lightly bumping Sophie's side with my elbow.
Her eyes flicker briefly, a hint of interest hidden in her stare as she extends her hand for my sister to take. "Pleasure to meet you, Sophie," she purrs.
"The pleasure is all mine." Sophie winks, matching Quinn's energy as she accepts the handshake with a light touch.
"What can I get started for you lovely ladies?"
I watch my sister's face turn a not-so-subtle shade of pink as her eyes canvas the menu listed on the streaky, chalk-marker stained blackboard behind Quinn. Swallowing the giggle that threatens to escape me, I volunteer our order. "We'll both take the house latte."
If I've learned anything from Sophie, it's that you can't go wrong with a simple latte.
Moving behind the counter, Quinn grabs what she needs to make our drinks. "Two house lattes, for here or to go?"
"One to go, please." I smile before giving Soph another nudge.
Quinn shakes her head while snorting a laugh, before spinning on her heel to face the elaborate, silver machine that I assume will make our drinks.
"Lettie, what are you doing?" Sophie leans toward me, whisper-shouting in my ear.
A teasing smile pulls at the corners of my mouth, making it difficult to mask my plans for her. "I am going to work," I say calmly, keeping my voice low. "You are staying here to talk with Quinn."
"I doubt she wants to talk with me," she scoffs, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder.
My smile widens at her immediate dismissal. I know my sisters better than anyone, and this deflection is a classic Sophie move. I snort a laugh. "Has the Sophie Richter met her match?"
"Shut up," she hisses, slapping my shoulder lightly.
Turning from the machine with our lattes in hand, Quinn places both drinks on the counter. Sophie's in an adorable pink mug with a matching saucer and mine in the standard to-go cup. "Two house lattes, one to go."
"Thanks, Quinn, how much do I owe you?" I ask.
She waves her hand, shooing my question away. "On the house."
"Quinn, I can't let you do that." I sigh, reaching into my jacket pocket for my wallet. Small businesses will always have a place in my heart and I really like Quinn's.
"Fine. I'll accept payment in the form of conversation with Sophie," she teases.
Grabbing my drink, I watch Sophie's eyes widen from the corner of my eye, clearly taken by surprise. "What—"
"Great!" I laugh before turning on my heel. "Have a good day, Soph. I'll see you at home tonight."
Well, maybe I will. I hope I don't. If I see her, that means Anastasia doesn't want to keep me late, and I've grown to enjoy staying late with my boss. Every minute I get alone with Anastasia is another minute I learn about her, and I've always been an eager learner.
"You're the worst, Lettie!" she yells back as I open the door.
The elevator dings, announcing my arrival to the top floor. Thankfully, Britney wasn't in yet to accost me about mine and Anastasia's closeness the last few days. As I walk through the doors, I notice the office is still dark with no one in sight.
Perfect.
My heart skips at the thought of being alone this early with Anastasia. I've managed to keep my hands to myself in the mornings, even if it's torture to not touch her. I don't know how she does it, how she manages to stay so calm and collected during the day. I'm slipping, wanting to be around her more. It's driving me insane, but I know I won't stop until she tells me to.
I shake my head, erasing the thought like an Etch A-Sketch. Anastasia and I are casual and will remain so until this—whatever this is—ends.
My hands shake subtly as I brush them down my knee-length, charcoal gray skirt before picking up my drink. Walking to Anastasia's door, I raise my hand and knock quietly, hoping that she doesn't mind that I'm earlier than usual.
"Come in."
Opening the door, I reveal her darkened office solely lit by the small lamp on her desk. I swear, the way that thing illuminates her like some sort of goddess while she works has to be some kind of magic. Her midnight hair is wrapped in a perfect messy bun, leaving two strands to dangle out on each side, framing her sharp face.
"Good morning, Ms. Graves," I greet breathlessly, closing the door behind me. How could I not when she takes my breath away every time I step within her proximity?
She lifts her head slowly, her gray eyes swimming with desire, pinning me in the doorway. "You're here quite early, Miss Richter."
"I-I," I stutter.
"Did you bring me a coffee, too?" she asks, the question holding a teasing lilt.
Fuck. I didn't think to order a coffee for her. I was too preoccupied with Soph and Quinn that I rushed out of the cafe as fast as I could. "I am so sorry, I didn't—you can have mine."
"Mmm," she hums, lightly tapping her maroon painted nail on her chin. "I can think of a better way to have a taste. Come here, bunny."
My feet move before I can think about it. She controls me in ways I can't understand, and I'm not sure that I want to. All I know is, I want her in any way I can have her—and she wants me, too.
"Take a sip of your drink," she commands, lust filtering through her words, leaving me no choice but to comply. I sip the milky coffee, letting the now cool liquid sit on my tongue before swallowing. "Good girl."
Hearing those two words does something to me. I know it's wrong given our positions, the dominant and submissive roles on and off the clock, but how wrong can something be when it feels so right?
A pulse flutters in my core while need burns in my veins. She stands from her desk, revealing her long, bare legs and the sleek, black skirt molded around her thighs as she sways her hips seductively toward me.
"Open up for me." Her demand is sharp, and my mouth parts instantly. "Let me taste the coffee from your tongue, sweet bunny."
My cheeks prickle from the pet name I've come to enjoy as her soft hand cups my cheek tenderly. Her warm minty breath coasts across my lips, driving the pulse in my core faster. Our tongues meet tentatively, slow and unhurried. I give her all of me, as her tongue laps against mine until I moan.
"Delicious," she whispers, pulling away. "Not as sweet as your pussy, though."
Chapter sixteen
Nothing will ever be as sweet as her pussy to me now that I have tasted her. Her thighs squeeze together, clenching underneath her skirt as she moans. "Feeling needy this morning?" I smirk, knowing she can't hide her arousal around me. "How badly do you need me, Nicolette?"
I want—no, I need—to hear her say it. Hearing Nicolette's desires, her pleas to be touched has become the highlight of my nights. The fact that she gives into me, allowing me to bring her pleasure while giving me the same in return is intoxicating. I know I shouldn't want this. It’s unprofessional. It's a risk. But with her, it's a risk worth taking.
