He ran his hands up and down my back and whispered, “Are you sure that’s not a nice thing to do, Claire?”
He didn’t give me a chance to answer. He started sliding in and out of me, making me moan with each thrust, making me wish he would never stop.
“I...I...” I tried to catch my breath.
“You sure you don’t like standing them up and making them come after you?” He picked up his pace, thrusting harder and harder, gripping my hips so I couldn’t resist the tempo. “Forcing them to wait for two hours?”
“Ahhhhh....” My mind went blank. I heard him asking me more questions—something about him being upset, but I could only focus on how good this f**king felt. I shut my eyes and surrendered to his control, letting him make my body feel things it’d never felt before.
With his hands secured around my waist, he carried me over to the wall—still buried deep inside of me.
“Don’t move.” He pressed my ass against the wall and pounded into me repeatedly, making me cry out in unbearable pleasure.
I tightened my legs around him as he continued his reckless rhythm, digging my nails into his back each time he plunged into me.
He pressed his mouth against mine to muffle my loud cries, but his kiss only pushed me further to the edge. He thrust into me as deep as he could go, and my insides shattered into millions of pieces; my screams couldn’t be contained.
He found his own release seconds after, and we both slid down to the floor, panting.
I sat still and let the cool wall press into my back, wincing as he pulled out of me. I was trying to focus on something else other than what had just happened, trying to float back down to earth.
I can’t believe I did that...I just f**ked the CEO...
I moved past him and fumbled around for my robe, hastily tying it around my body. I ignored the wicked looks he was giving me as he stood up and re-adjusted his pants.
I took a deep breath and rose to my feet, trying to find my words. “I...I need to shower and you need to go to your meeting so—”
“You’re kicking me out?”
“Yes.” I walked over to the table and made sure his briefcase was closed before picking it up. “Here’s your briefcase. I picked ad stock number eighteen...Have a good day.”
He swooped down to kiss me, but I stepped back. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Statham.”
He laughed. “See you tomorrow, Claire.”
I sat at my desk and stared blankly at the computer screen. All I could think about was yesterday’s rendezvous with Jonathan and how I should’ve let him stay for another hour or two.
I wasn’t sure if it felt so amazing because I hadn’t had sex in such a long time, or if I should give him all the credit.
I called Sandra. “Hey. Are you busy?”
“Of course not, Miss ‘I-Gave-It-Up-Before-The-Third-Date’!” She laughed. “You never texted me back yesterday! How was it?”
“It was amazing...It was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. Hands down.”
“Really? Better than sex with your ex-husband?”
Hell yes! “Yes...” I was getting hot just thinking about it. “Do you think if I call in sick tomorrow he’ll come over again?”
“What a turnaround from last week!” She laughed. “Probably. I think he likes you.”
That’s exactly what I’m afraid of...
“Oh! Claire, I’ve got to go. I’ve got an emergency patient out front. I’ll call you later.” She hung up and I reclined in my chair.
Thanks to my constant fantasizing, I hadn’t done much of anything all day and I was considering going home early.
“Claire?” Mr. Barnes stuck his head inside my door. “We’ve finally got an idea I think you’re going to like!”
I highly doubt that...
“I’ll be right there. Give me one second.” I waited until I was sure he was gone, and slipped into another pair of panties under my desk.
That’s pair number two and it’s not even noon...
I walked outside my office, spotted the “idea I was sure to like,” and forced myself not to turn back around.
“Mr. Barnes, I told you this ad was racist last week. It’s still racist...”
“Ah, ah, ah! Look closer!” He brought the poster closer to my face. “It’s not just African American slaves now. We’ve got Caucasian slaves, Hispanic slaves, and Asian slaves—with chopsticks! Tell me that’s not diversity!”
“Okay. I’m going home.”
“Stop, stop! It was a joke. Show her the real poster, Tina.”
His assistant put down the atrocity and held up a simple ad of a sPhone blue floating amongst the clouds. It read, “Light. Airy. sBlue.”
“Wow! I like it!” I smiled. “We may have to play with the words a bit, but the visual is spectacular!”
“Finally! You actually like something!” He laughed. “Could you run this up to Mr. Statham? He’s in the art studio. He’s been nagging me about updates all day.”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“I have a recommendation letter to write for Tina.” He looked at his watch. “It’s due in two hours.”