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My boss took a step closer to me. His powerful frame was an electrifying presence at my back. We were in the middle of the busy cafeteria, but the excitement thrumming through my body was so distracting I couldn’t focus on my surroundings. He stood closer than any boss should, and I hoped no one was watching. A scandal would be disastrous.
His intoxicating masculine scent flooded my senses, and I clenched my thighs in response. I yearned to have him closer, needing to touch him somehow. The music and chatter surrounding me faded away to nothingness, and everyone in the room became a distant afterthought. I found myself rocking until my back grazed his chest. It was the barest of contact between our bodies, but pleasure tingled my entire being.
It was addictive. I wanted more. If I pushed myself more into him, would he wrap his arms around me?
I shook the thought from my mind. It was so wrong to flirt with my boss. The risk too great. I should walk away.
But before I could, he brought his head close, his breath teasing my ears. “Meet me in my office, Laura,” Steven said in a voice oozing with sex appeal.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Was he asking what I thought he was asking?
His hand caressed my ass.
I gasped and my feet were rooted to the floor. My body wanted the closeness more than my brain wanted to flee.
“I want you, Laura,” he whispered. “I can’t hold myself back anymore. And I won’t.”
The sound of my heart pounding drowned out my thoughts, but luckily, I grasped the last shred of logic in my conscious mind. “But…we’re at work.” My voice sounded far away as if I wasn’t the one speaking.
I wanted to say yes. But we couldn’t do this. Shouldn’t. What if we got caught? An intern and her boss. It would ruin our careers.
Was he even worth the risk?
6 weeks before.
Ipranced into Wealth Asset Group’s Manhattan high-rise, my enthusiasm bursting from me with every step. Sunshine flooded the massive lobby of one of the most successful investment companies in the US, illuminating the marble floor and creating a sparkle as bright as my mood. Today must be a lucky day. The sun never shone this bright in November in New York City.
Employees bustled toward the elevators—brown, blue, and gray business suits whizzed past me. At least a dozen monitors lined the expansive walls, each one displaying real-time market data for hundreds of stocks.
I reached the reception desk, my head whirling left and right, wanting to see everything at once and not believing I was now a part of it. This was the first day of my new life. New city. New job. New everything. Year one of my ten-year plan to success and riches.
Goal: To become the female version of the investment genius Warren Buffett, except with better hair and bigger boobs.
Strategy: Immerse myself in my career, work harder than everyone else, and climb the corporate ladder. Fast! And most importantly, not let anything or anyone distract me from my goal.
“May I help you, Miss?”
The voice broke through my thoughts, and I swung my focus to the elderly guard behind the counter. His blue security uniform hung loosely on his frail frame.
“Oh, hi,” I glanced at his name tag, “Jim. I’m Laura Bloom, and today is my first day.”
His knobby fingers scanned the paper on his desk. “Ah, ’ere it is. Oh, you’re Mr. Cox’s new intern.” He smiled apologetically.
That was weird. Was he feeling sorry for me? Couldn’t be. I was the luckiest graduate of all the Ivy League schools in the country. This was the most sought-after internship on Wall Street, and I was the one who earned it.
“Sign ’ere and go straight up to the top floor. That’s the executive floor. Then turn left to the CFO’s office.”
As I signed in, whispers broke out around me, some of them loud enough for me to hear.
“Poor girl.”
“Hope this one lasts more than a month.”
“Better her than me.”
What was going on? This didn’t make any sense. My enthusiasm sank a notch until Jim handed me my employee card. I reached out with both hands and closed my fingers around it as if he was bestowing me with a sacred scroll. This was what I had worked so hard for over the last eight years. I bit back a squeal of delight as I clutched my reward for never giving up.
“Scan your card at the gate o’er there to get to the elevators,” he said with another apologetic smile. “And good luck to ya, miss.”
