Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“I heard about the way you confronted the HR manager who was here before me. If you have a problem with someone’s performance, you should reprimand them in private, and you should give them the tools they need to improve.”
“Did you also hear that Josh’s lazy handling of the safety rules resulted in an employee being burned at one of the shops?”
This gives her pause, but doesn’t cool her heat. “That’s unfortunate, but doesn’t change the fact that you should have handled the situation differently.”
I shrug a shoulder. Maybe anger got the best of me that day, but I don’t regret it.
“So, what did you call me in here for?” Ana asks.
That’s a good question, but I’m not going to tell her that seeing her stand up to me had me so turned on that I wanted to pin her against the wall and fuck her right there in the hallway.
“I knew you’d have things you’d want to get off your chest.” This lights her eyes up with surprise. When I add, “Why don’t you come around to my side of the desk?,” those beautiful brown eyes go dark.
She stays put, though I don’t miss the way she uncrosses, then crosses her legs. “Why? So you can ‘interview’ me again?”
“Precisely.”
“I’ve told you that’s not happening now that I’m employed here.”
“I’m sure you’re a very truthful woman, Ana, but we both know you’re lying to yourself about this.”
I continue to relax in my chair. If she wants to leave, she can easily get up and do so. “You’re easy to read,” I tell her. “And your conviction on this issue is weaker than a watered-down cup of decaf.”
“Ha! A coffee analogy. How clever.” Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and if I’m not mistaken, she’s pushed her shoulders back, which puts her rack on display very nicely.
“C’mon over here, Ana.” I pat my knee, and her nostrils flare.
Her internal conflict is clear in her expression, but so is her desire. She frowns, but never takes her eyes off me, and after a long moment, she rises from her seat.
She doesn’t get into my lap as invited, but instead comes to stand right next to me, where I have easy access to slide my hands up under the bottom of her skirt. I find the thin straps of her underwear at her hips and tug them down, letting them fall to the floor.
She watches me the entire time, even as I slide a hand back up her inner thigh and gently stroke her center.
“Your pussy doesn’t lie.”
Her mouth drops open in a silent gasp as I slip into her sopping wet folds and then back over her clit. I meet her eyes, and hold that contact the entire time I rub her clit, slow and teasing at first, then, as her chest starts to rise and fall more quickly, I increase the pace.
My finger dips down for more of her juices, then rubs over her little nub at a rapid pace, until she reaches out for my shoulder and squeezes her eyes shut. Her head tips back and she starts to quiver. With my free hand, I hold her hip to steady her as my other hand makes her lose control.
She manages to stay quiet, no doubt worried about being overheard in here, though her pleasure comes across loud and clear in the way her face and body respond. I know she’d be screaming my name if we were somewhere more private, and that’s how I want it the next time I make her come. This brief interlude will have to hold me over until I can enjoy her more fully.
When her eyes open again and she’s catching her breath, I slide my hand free of her skirt and roll my chair back a couple of inches. “You’re free to go now, Ana.”
Her eyes go wide, bewildered. She glances down at my lap, where of course, I’m hard as a rock, but now isn’t the time.
“We’ll have another meeting very soon,” I say, swiveling toward my desk.
She opens her mouth to protest, but then looks around, as if remembering where we are. When she stoops to retrieve her panties, I stretch out a hand. “I’ll take those.”
“What?” Her question comes out on a puff of air. She’s dazed, and I love it.
“I’m keeping those.”
Quickly, she gathers her composure, and sounds more steady when she says, “You’re going to keep my underwear?” When I stare back at her, she asks, “What am I going to do? This is the only pair I have here.”
“You can go bare. These are mine now.” I tuck the scrap of pale orange lace into my pants pocket.
“But … what …?”
“Go, before I decide to take your bra, too.”
She stares back at me defiantly, her hand going to her hip, which only makes me wish I took the time to get her bra off.