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“When will my own office be ready?” she asks as she stands from her seat.
“I’m not sure. I don’t have the time nor the inclination to follow up with menial matters,” I reply with a dismissive wave of my hand.
FIVE
Ilook up at the clock on the wall for what seems like the millionth time in the last… ten minutes. It’s only ten minutes later than it was the last time I checked. 5:45 p.m.
It’s Friday, and I honestly can’t wait to hightail it out of this office and as far away from Nathan as I can get. It’s been one hell of a first week. I still don’t have my own workspace, and every time I ask about it, Nathan either grunts something or completely blindsides me by changing the topic. He’s good at that. I guess it comes with years of practicing law. I’ve watched him closely this week, closer than I’m willing to admit even to myself. He’s good. I already knew that of course. It’s the whole reason I worked so hard to gain a position in this firm.
I wanted to learn from the best. Work with the best. And here I am, wanting to sleep with the best too. Although that fact is yet to be discovered. Did Nathan make me come harder than I ever have using just his fingers Monday night?
Yes. A big, fireworks explosion yes.
However, being good at using your fingers is not the same as being good at using your dick. I think. I’ve never really had a boyfriend who was good at either.
Fifteen minutes. I can hold out for fifteen more minutes. I’m not a complete wanton hussy. Despite the protest of my vagina, which is currently begging me to be careless and jump on that man like it’s nobody’s business. Even if I wanted to, which I don’t. But let’s pretend I did. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do. I’m confident in many aspects of my life. Sex, sexual pursuits, is not one of them. So it’s probably a good thing I don’t want to follow through with my body’s desire to have Nathan Miller buried as deep inside me as he could possibly go.
I look back at the clock. 5:50. Ten more minutes. I catch Nathan watching me from the corner of my eye.
“The time doesn’t actually go faster by watching the clock,” he says.
“I know.” I return my focus to the papers I’m highlighting. I can’t lie. This sofa I’ve been working from is hella comfy. I’d just like to not be locked in an office with him. It’s like I’m being put through the ultimate test: is my will stronger than my libido? So far, my brains and self-restraint are winning out. I glance up as Nathan stands from his desk.
“I’ll be back. Don’t leave before I return,” he says.
“Wait… It’s ten to six. I need to leave at six,” I tell him.
“Why? Do you have somewhere more important to be?” he asks with raised eyebrows.
“No, I just—I finish at six,” I state.
He pulls a key out of his pocket. “That’s okay. You can leave. I just thought you might want a tour of your office,” he says.
“It’s ready?”Why did he wait until the end of the day to show me?
“It is, but if you want to wait until Monday to see it, that’s fine.” He pockets the key and walks out of his office, leaving me staring after him. Okay, my eyes are transfixed on his ass, on his firm ass, hugged by those custom-fitted dress pants.
Damn it!I internally scold myself and look away. Since he’s left the office, I pack up my work. I’ll take it home and finish it over the weekend. Grabbing my phone, I pull up the group chat I have with my sister and mum.
Me:
I’ll be late home and won’t make dinner. I got held up at work.
Jules:
Caught up with work, or caught up on top of #hotboss?
Mum:
What? Jules, not everybody thinks with their bodily needs.
I smile. If anyone could find a way to call someone a hussy and make it sound classy, it’s my mum. She basically just called Jules out for being ‘free’ with her vagina.
Me:
Thanks, Mum. I’ll see you both later.
Jules:
