Dirty Pictures

By Rachel Cray

Melanie, a legal secretary, is a key member of a team in a law firm that is head-hunted by a competitor. She falls in love with a senior associate who also is a talented artist with a portfolio of erotic pictures. She is invited to model for him and, when he is moved to their office in Germany, she finds herself blackmailed by a female lawyer who wants to use her for her own sexually perverted ends.

How can Melanie escape from the horrible treadmill that her nemesis has set up for her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rachel Cray
• Release date: Dec 2, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466183230

Rachel Cray

Rachel writes erotic romances to two sub-genres: the first she calls "law firm erotic", where her characters are the horny partners and employees of a U.S. law firm, and whose spare-time activities may best be described simply as sex-related. The second sub-genre she calls "village erotic", where the cast are the horny inhabitants of Maybourne, a fictional old market town in the heart of England with a number of olde worlde villages, Tudor buildings, a ruined abbey and other picturesque features in both rural and urban settings.She has worked in several European countries, first as a secretary and then as an executive assistant, before returning to her roots in Surrey, England, and close to London; for many years she was the director of administration at the London office of a large U.S. law firm before leaving to run her own recruitment company. Now in semi-retirement, she devotes most of her spare time to writing erotic romance novellas, drawing on her life's experiences in a variety of fields. She is married with children and grandchildren.

Book preview

Dirty Pictures

by Rachel Cray

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Rachel Cray

Rachel Cray’s home page

Discover other titles by Rachel Cray at Smashwords.com:

Law Firm Love series:

Interview for Love

Working Overtime

The New Client

Snatched

Maybourne series:

A Close Match

Village Accounts

Kate's Return

Lucy and Friends series:

Jack and Me... and His Lodger

One Man too Many

Needing Her, Needing Him

and

A Stranger in My Bed

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons (living or dead), actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission by the author, except for brief quotations for review purposes.

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

Smashwords Edition : Licence Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

CHAPTER 1

I’d worked at Brockbank & Taylor, the city law firm, for around four years and I had been promoted to partner’s secretary just six months previously. I was looking after Ted Barker, a specialist in corporate law, together with his sidekick associate, Ben Feldman, and we formed a good working relationship although I never saw much of either of them outside the office. So it was a surprise when Ted rang me at home one Sunday evening.

Melanie? I want to invite you to dinner at my home after work on Friday. Come around seven. Is there anything you don’t like to eat?

No, there isn’t.

O.K. I’m inviting Ben along as well, by the way. So the only person there that you won’t know is my wife.

That’ll be nice.

There’s one final thing I must tell you. Nobody at the firm must know about this meeting. It is seriously Top Secret, you understand. Not a word to anyone. Not even your husband. Understand?

Sure, but –

Good. So when we talk in the office tomorrow, we don’t mention this. O.K.?

And he hung up.

So now I knew just how well he knew me: I wasn’t married, and I didn’t even have a boyfriend at the time. Like most of the partners at the firm, he was totally absorbed in his work. And keeping his wife happy.

My parents were both dead, I had no family to speak of, and I inherited their house a couple of years back when Dad passed away; other houses in our street carried pretty high valuations when they were offered for sale, so I realised I was sitting on a pile of money. The girls at the office had identified me as an extremely eligible young woman, and attempted to fix me up with blind dates, but nothing really worked.

You know your trouble, Melanie? You just don’t try hard enough, one of my friends, Hannah, suggested. If you don’t do something about it soon, you’re going to finish up on the shelf. And that would be tragic, with your looks and your...

Wealth? I prompted, with a smile. One of the other secretaries here tried to fix me up with her brother recently. Without success. Are you trying to do the same thing?

No. I don’t have a brother who’s in the market. I’m just thinking of you.

O.K., Hannah, I appreciate it. But I can look after myself. All right?

Life at the law firm kept me so busy that, like many of the others, I didn’t have time for a crowded social life. And, at the end of my day at the office, I didn’t have anyone to go home to. So I was happy to put in the extra hours whenever required. I took the view that the man in my life would appear when he was ready, and I wasn’t going to be impatient – I’d seen so many other girls rush into marriage with the wrong guy that I was determined I wouldn’t make any mistakes.

There had been a great deal of unrest at the firm of late. We had lost a couple of major clients. There had been talk of redundancies and even the possibility of a merger; there had been speculation in the legal press that there might be the announcement of at least one merger between two or more firms in the current economic climate within the next four months.

Two secretaries had left in recent months – Barbara Edwards had gone to Evans & Carlisle, and Sandra Morris had gone to Sutcliffe’s; although I hadn’t spoken to either of them since their departure, I had heard through my grapevine that they were both happy in their new positions. I was content in my current situation, although occasionally I felt uneasy about my future with the firm after the redundancy programme had been started – my job was safe, I was assured – and each week there seemed to be a new rumour in circulation about our jobs.

Hi, Melanie, Ted called as he passed by my desk the following morning. Good weekend?

Not bad, thanks.

Liar, Hannah called across. She hates weekends, unless she’s got an excuse to come into the office.

Ted grinned, and entered his office, shutting the door behind him. There was a glass partition to his room, so I could see what he was doing most of the time. Conversely, he could keep an eye on Hannah and me. Hannah worked for another partner who sat in the adjacent office; although I got on reasonably well with her, she was forever talking about the good times she had in Sutcliffe’s, her previous firm.

Have you heard the latest? she whispered. Melody Warner has finished with Jared Baines. I’ve heard one report that he fancies you. Melody was a junior secretary who worked on the floor above ours; Jared was a third-year associate attorney who, I thought, rather fancied himself. I certainly wasn’t interested, and I left Hannah in no doubt about my feelings for him.

There was more tittle-tattle later that morning; Jasmine, another secretary, came to see Hannah for a routine session of gossip, and I was encouraged to listen.

I’ve just been down the basement to dig out a couple of old files, Jasmine began. I took them into the side office next to the storage area to examine them, and the place is in a terrible state. Her face displayed an expression of excitement, not of disgust.

What do you mean? asked Hannah.

There were two used condoms on the floor, she smiled. And the carpet smelled of... you know....

The two girls giggled. It had become well-known in certain circles that the file storage area in the basement had been used as a private place where couples could meet for a quick sex session.

David, the head of administration, had tried to put a stop to it but had failed; the reason, I was told, was because David himself had taken a couple of secretaries down there for sex when his marriage had been on the rocks. So he couldn’t really object if anyone else got horny and decided to make use of the place.

So, Jasmine, I said, did you just leave the condoms there? Or did you clean them up?

"Touch them? she squirmed. No chance. It’s a job for the cleaners, not for me."

So they’ll stay there all day, and it’ll stay stinking. Anyone else who goes down there for a quickie is going to get turned right off before they start.

They giggled again at the thought. Of course, Melanie can afford her own cleaner to keep her house looking tidy, said Hannah.

That’s not true! I do it all myself, I replied with indignation.

Jasmine moved on; that was enough gossip for her today. Shortly afterwards, Ben came to see me. He was a second-year associate, still finding his way around; in his early twenties, he came from Boston, Massachusetts, and I guessed this was the first time he had ever been abroad. He always looked so earnest, and this morning was no exception.

Melanie, I need these files. He handed me a written list of their serial numbers and client-matter titles. I think they’re in storage down in the basement. Do you think you can go and get them for me, please?

You must be joking, I gasped in surprise, after the news Jasmine had just brought.

What’s wrong? he asked.

I’ll get them for you, Ben, Hannah called, smiling broadly.

No, I’ll get them, I said firmly, reaching my feet. It may take 15 or 20 minutes.

I went down to the basement, keyed in the security combination digits, and opened the steel door silently.

In front of me were rows and rows of filing racks with files stacked high, carefully placed in alphabetical order by client name. I was able to locate the relevant stack with ease, but finding the relevant transaction was not quite so simple.

I pulled out a pile, and took it to the side room to select which files I needed. The place might smell, as Jasmine had explained, but I was prepared to endure that for a couple of minutes.

I reached the doorway – there was no door – and beheld the sight of Jared Baines, naked from the waist down, embracing Melody Warner; she too was naked below her waist. They were in a little world of their own, and completely oblivious to my presence. I made a mental note to inform Jasmine her intelligence source had got it wrong.

I stepped back a couple of paces and hid behind a rack; I could still see everything they were doing, without risking being caught. Melody drew back and I caught sight of Jared’s erect dick.

I hadn’t seen a man’s erection in some three years, and I felt my crotch stir. I put my hand down there instinctively and, before I realised it, I began stroking myself.

Jared took Melody’s hand and led her to the far wall in the small room, and she stood with her back to the wall; if I hadn’t been hiding behind the rack, she would have spotted me. Jared faced her – he had his back to me – and leaned back, bending his knees, and I assumed that he had plunged his dick up inside her.

Now he was pushing his butt forward and back and they were writhing together in this sex act, doing what Jasmine called a ‘knee-trembler’. I continued fingering my clit as they jerked