Lust Meter System: Conquering Beauties

Chapter 258: Elsa Welcome Gift

The shop looked exactly the way he had left it.

Same front display, same signage, same door that stuck slightly at the bottom when you pushed it open.

Liam stepped inside and the smell of the place hit him first, clean and familiar, the specific smell of somewhere he had spent enough time in to have it stored somewhere automatic in his memory.

He looked around.

Everything was in order. Better than in order.

Things were arranged with a precision that hadn’t been there when he left, the shelves straightened, the counter clear, the floor clean in a way that suggested someone had made it a habit rather than a one time event.

He heard the printer before he saw her.

It was coming from the side of the room, the steady mechanical sound of something printing out a long document. He walked toward it.

Elsa was standing beside the printer with her back mostly to him, one hand resting on top of it while she waited for the pages to feed through.

She was wearing a fitted grey suit jacket over a white blouse, the jacket sitting precisely on her shoulders, the blouse tucked into a short skirt that stopped well above the knee, dark and fitted, hugging every line of her hips.

Her silver-white hair was loose, falling past her shoulders in soft waves, the ends of it sitting just above the curve of her lower back.

The jacket was buttoned at the waist, pulling in there, and above it the blouse stretched across her chest in a way that the jacket’s lapels did absolutely nothing to conceal, her boobs pressing against the white fabric, the outline of them clear and present and exactly as he remembered.

’I forgot how sexy she looks when she’s busy,’ he thought. ’I forgot this entirely.’

She hadn’t heard him come in.

She reached over and took the first page from the printer and turned to look at it.

Then she saw him.

Her face changed completely. All at once, the composed professional expression dissolving and something much warmer and much less controlled taking its place, her eyes going bright, a smile starting.

She moved toward him fast, already reaching out, and he spread his arms.

When she got close enough, dropped her shoulder, and drove her fist into his stomach.

A full force punch, her fist driving into his midsection with enough behind it to make every piece of air in his body decide to leave immediately and all at once.

He doubled forward, his arms still spread, the oxygen gone, his mouth open with nothing coming out because there was nothing to come out with.

He went down to one knee on the office floor, one hand finding his stomach, his face doing things he had no control over.

"What was that for," he managed, his voice arriving in pieces, the words working around the absence of breath.

Elsa stood over him with her arms crossed and her expression doing the specific thing it did when she had decided something was justified and had no further questions about it.

"You disappeared for months," she said. "And you just walk back in here like that. Not even a flower. Not even a text first." She looked down at him. "I should have shot you if I had a gun."

Liam stayed on his knee for another moment.

"I’m sorry," he said.

"Apology not accepted," she said.

The office door opened.

A boy stepped through carrying a mug of coffee in both hands, wearing a striped short-sleeved shirt with a small tie knotted at the collar, the tie slightly off center.

He was young, maybe twenty-one, with the specific focused expression of someone concentrating entirely on not spilling what he was carrying.

He looked up.

He saw Liam still on one knee with his hand on his stomach and his face still recovering. He saw Elsa standing in front of him with her arms crossed.

He looked between them.

"Okay," he said. "I’m just going to hold this and go sit at my desk until you’re ready for it."

He turned around, walked to the desk in the corner, sat down, and placed the coffee carefully in front of him and then looked at his computer screen with the focused attention of someone who had decided to be absolutely elsewhere mentally.

Liam watched him do all of this.

"Thank you, James," Elsa said, her voice warming immediately.

Liam looked at her. "Who’s James."

"I hired him," she said. "For help. While you were gone." She looked at him with a particular smile that had smugness sitting comfortably at the center of it. "The business is actually doing well without you."

"Reasonable call," Liam said. "I can see that."

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Not really," he said.

"Good." She turned and picked up the printed pages from the printer tray. "Go wait in your office. I’ll bring you the quarterly performance file."

Liam nodded, then straightened up slowly, one hand still pressed to his stomach, and walked to his office.

His office was exactly as he had left it.

The desk sitting in the center of the room, dark wood, wide, the chair behind it the same one he had spent more hours in than he could count.

A bookshelf along the left wall, the books on it in the same imperfect arrangement he had always kept them in, nobody having straightened them in his absence.

The window behind the desk looked out onto the back of the building, the same view of the narrow street and the wall of the building opposite.

A filing cabinet in the corner, closed. A small plant on the windowsill that was somehow still alive.

He sat in the chair and exhaled.

’It feels exactly the same,’ he thought, looking around the room. ’Like no time passed in here at all.’

He heard her heels in the corridor.

She pushed the door open and came in carrying a manila folder, thick with pages, and crossed the room to the desk. She set it down in front of him with a precise flat sound.

"Quarterly performance summary," she said. "Revenue is up fourteen percent from last quarter. Supplier costs are down. James reorganized the inventory tracking system and it’s saving us about three hours a week." She looked at him. "You want to go through it now or."

Liam looked at the folder.

Then at her.

"What else do you have in mind," he said.

She looked at him for a second.

Then she smiled.

She walked around the side of the desk slowly, her heels clicking against the floor, and when she reached his side she kept going, moving around to the front of the desk and then down, lowering herself to her knees under it in the space between the desk and his chair.

She looked up at him from there.

"We’ve never actually done it in here," she said. "I haven’t stopped thinking about it."

Liam looked down at her. "Did you miss me that much."

"Shut up," she said, already reaching for his zip.

She worked it down, her hands finding him through his trousers, and then she pulled everything free. She looked at him for a moment from where she was kneeling under his desk.

"Hello big guy," she said.

Liam looked at her. "Are you going to just look at it or are you actually going to do something."

She held his gaze for one more second.

Then she wrapped her hand around the base of him and took him in her mouth.

She started slow.

Her lips sealing around him, her tongue pressing flat against the underside, her head moving in a steady unhurried rhythm.

Her free hand rested on his thigh, fingers spread against the fabric.

Under the desk her silver-white hair brushed against the wood on each forward movement, the ends of it swaying gently with the pace she had set.

He looked at his desk.

The quarterly performance file sitting in front of him.

He looked at the plant on the windowsill.

He looked back at the quarterly performance file.

"Mm," she said from under the desk.

He put his hand on the back of her head.

She went deeper.

Her throat opened around him and a muffled sound came from somewhere in her chest as she took more of him, her hand at the base tightening to steady herself.

"Mmph," she said.

She pulled back slowly, her lips dragging the full length of him, and then went back down, deeper this time, finding a rhythm that built gradually, each stroke slightly more committed than the one before.

His hand pressed down lightly.

She took more.

"Mm," she said, the sound arriving continuously now, low and muffled and deliberate, present through every stroke.

She changed what her tongue was doing without changing the pace, pressing differently on the upstroke, and he exhaled through his nose and his hand tightened in her hair without deciding to.

She felt the change and stayed on whatever she had just done, repeating it exactly, her head moving steadily, her hand working the base in coordination with her mouth.

"Elsa," he said.

She kept going.

His jaw tightened.

She went faster, her head moving more quickly now, less deliberate and more driven, her sounds getting louder under the desk, filling the small space between the wood and the floor.

"Mmph. Mm. Mmph."

His hand pressed firmer.

She went deeper and held there, her throat working around him, her hand gripping his thigh hard.

Then she pulled back completely and looked up at him from under the desk, her lips swollen, her silver-white hair slightly undone, her eyes carrying something that had been building since he walked in.

"I can’t wait anymore," she said.

She stood up.

Her hands went to the side zip of her skirt and she pulled it down and stepped out of it and it landed on the office floor beside his chair.

She turned around and bent forward over the desk, her hands pressing flat against the surface, her ass facing him directly at his eye level from where he was sitting.

She looked back at him over her shoulder.