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All except the electric blue threads of cum erupting from my tarse.
Her wide eyes take in the scene, and to my horror, I moan out her name, sending another spurt of pleasure coursing through me.
Wyn opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. The air between is thick with tension and the musk of my release.
“Shit, Wyn, I…”
The words are ragged, torn from my throat as I scramble for dignity that’s beyond reach.
Quickly, I shove my tarse back into my pants while trying to reconcile the moment.
Wyn stammers an apology, the sound strangled, before she turns and dashes away like she just caught her boss in a compromising act.
Oh wait, she did.
“Wyn!”
I stand up to chase after her only to realize that there’s a giant puddle of cum all over my desk.
Banging my head against my chair, I groan at the catastrophic turn of events.
HR is going to kill me.
CHAPTER FIVE
WYN
The fluorescent light overhead flickers with an erratic rhythm, mirroring my pulsing anger.
I should send another email to maintenance to replace the bulb, but that isn’t why I’m unable to work.
No, I’m pacing my office like a caged animal instead of returning phone calls because of the rage threatening to boil over inside of me.
All thanks to my boss, Mr. Ettin.
This morning’s meeting replays on a continuous loop in my mind—how dare he question me and my work ethic!
Ever since I joined Boggleworks, I’ve done nothing but turn a pretty profit for Mr. Ettin, and yet, he singles me out of all the other department heads to pick apart every freaking meeting.
The man has an infuriating knack for riling me up—it’s like he’s got direct access to some hidden switch that instantly pisses me off every time he flicks it.
And fuck if Mr. Ettin doesn’t push my buttons.
Doesn’t he realize how hard I worked this weekend—how many late nights and early mornings I put in for this project and many, many others?
Instead, he thinks that I don’t know what I’m doing.
The absolute gall drill me in front of everyone in the conference room, delivering each blow wrapped in ‘helpful’ criticism.
My thoughts spiral out of control as I debate whether or not to confront him, but in my heart, I know that I can’t back down.
If I let this go, Mr. Ettin will just keep doing this kind of thing, and I’ll be miserable knowing I didn’t say anything.
No harm can come of me just bringing it up…unless he fires me.
My throat clenches at the thought. I need this job, but I also have my dignity.
It’s not fair that Mr. Ettin constantly questions me and not the others.
