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Denise Meyers is a petite little thing with a high blonde ponytail I’d like to wrap around my hand as I pull it back to expose the slender line of her neck for me to lick, kiss, suck, and travel down until my tongue knows every inch of her body.
A single breath of release pushes through my nostrils to tame the beast growing in my pants. I cannot fuck the temp. I must keep my lust in check because this is an HR conference about sexual harassment waiting to happen.
So imagine my surprise when the little minx sends a text message to me telling me she wants to feel this cock of mine hitting the back of her throat. This can’t possibly go anywhere.
I can see the youth in her face. The experience of long nights slaving over spreadsheets and controlling the livelihood of over a hundred employees is missing. The lack of worry lines or creases around her face tells me as much. She has goals, plans, and dreams I assume, and I don’t want to derail them in the slightest.
However, I’m being presumptuous. What if I get a single taste andIcan’t get enough? Then I’m the one derailed, aren’t I?
The text requiring her to come into my office is marked as read in my phone. So I push myself away from the desk and walk to the door to see if she’s actually going to oblige my request.
“Miss Meyers?” I ask with her back facing me. She’s white knuckling the desk, which means she undoubtedly sent that message to me by mistake.
“Mr. Daniels,” she practically whispers from those supple pink lips, lips I now want to see wrapping around my cock and enjoying the sensation-
STOP! I have to stop this.
“Can you please come into my office to discuss something with me? I’d rather not have the employees coming in overhear our conversation.”
I turn on my heels and head back inside, taking a seat and leaning away from the desk to give the appearance that I’m relaxed. In fact, I’m not. I’m on edge. My nerves are tingling because there’s a traitor working for me, and I’ve yet to single them out. I don’t have time for this kind of distraction, but stress relief or release?
I can pound away the anxiety into her walls, but I won’t do that. I don’t want to do that. My reputation is one of utmost professionalism, and I intend to keep it that way. I’ve never fucked one of my assistants, and I don’t intend to start now.
When Denise enters the room, I nod toward the door, gesturing for her to close it. She does so and as soon as it clicks into place, she rushes over to me. At first I think she’s going to dive under my desk to fulfill her text fantasy, but she slams her hands on top instead.
“If you think for one second that I’m going to stoop as low as sucking your dick simply because I texted you by mistake, you’re wrong. I mean, how dare you insinuate and assume I was even talking about you? So what if it was about you? I’m old enough to admit that I’m attracted to you. You’re an attractive man, and I may have inappropriate, no, unprofessional thoughts about you, but in no way was that ever meant to to be seen by you!”
“Take a breath, Miss Meyers,” I tell her with a smile.
“Sadist,” she huffs.
“Accurate,” I reply, still grinning.
I’m ready to stop her, but the fire in her eyes as she stands up for herself is alluring. I love the demand in her voice, the prowess of her presence. She’s addictive in a way because she has no ties to me. She’s a temp, and not even a legitimate temp, a friend of a temp doing a favor for us both apparently. Even so, she’s stirring something in me, something that goes beyond carnal desire.
She continues, her mouth pouty and kissable, “You like to see me twist in pain with the embarrassment of messages not meant to be seen.”
“If they’re not meant to be seen, then they shouldn’t have been sent in the first place, especially on a phone that I just told you records all of the activity.”
Her face pales, those stunning hazel eyes widen as she opens her mouth and then closes it. The center of her brows wrinkles as she considers her next words. I move closer to the desk, hoping to get a whiff of her. Something soft and flowery. Not at all what I was expecting, considering she hauled that tight little ass of her up those steps to the eighth floor.
“Should I pack up my things and call the agency to send someone else over?” She sulks and that I don’t like.
“Defeatist?”
“Never.” She scrunches her face like I just struck her. “Listen, let’s try this again because I’m no quitter, number one. And, number two, the agency probably won’t have anyone readily available until a few hours from now, if not tomorrow.”
“Well, my day goes on with or without an assistant. It’s just incredibly bothersome to tackle the minutia when I can be catering to the needs of my employees and customers.”
“Right. So, Mr. Daniels, you have my apologies for the unprofessional message I sent to you by mistake. It won’t happen again for the duration of my tenure as your assistant.”
“What if I liked the message?” The words come out before I can stop them. My cock controlling my mouth—that has never happened before, so even I am caught off guard by what I just said.
She backs up and folds her arms over her breasts, seemingly unaware that she’s pushing them up and out, cleavage peeking through the top of her shirt.
Her energy shifts as if her confidence is resurfacing. “Well then, I guess it’s a good thing that I’m simply a temp and not a permanent employee because then, you liking it would be frowned upon.”
“By whom? You don’t work for the temp agency, and you don’t work for me. You’re a complete stranger who could be lying to me about who you really are to gain my trust and steal more intellectual property.”
