"You wear glasses?" His brow scrunches as he tilts his head.
"Yes, normally I wear contacts but the dust from the basement irritates my eyes, so this week I'm wearing my glasses." I gave a slight smile. His eyes flickered from my glasses to my body for a fraction of a second before he returned my gaze and cleared his throat.
"I'm glad I caught you, Ms. Drake. Please come into my office there are some matters I wish to discuss with you."
He starts to walk past me when I blurt out, "But the cake?"
Mr. Payne stops in his movement and swivels to face me.
"Yes, I asked them not to do this for me, but Edgar and Jacob insisted. Do not worry about feeling you have to make an appearance because you are my assistant, they will understand."
But I won't, Mr. Payne! I need my fix!
"Cake ..." I half whine and half mumble as I follow him into his office.
He moves to his chair and makes himself at home while I stumble like a zombie to the seat in front of his desk, my brain repeating the word "cake" over and over again in my head.
"Mr. Shapiro has told me you have made an excellent member of his team this week. He likes your drive and dedication. Normally I would have you work two weeks in each department but you seem to grasp things quickly. So, as of Monday you will move to the fifth floor, which is Accounting. Ms. Jackson is the manager there, she will direct you as to what you are to do."
Accounting? Ugg! If ever there's a job that is the opposite of what I am to do in life, it is accounting. I took an elective accounting class in college and after two days the professor told me to drop the class. Two days! Even he could tell I would never get it.
"All right, Mr. Payne."
What am I going to say, no? I need this job so I have to suck it up and do a week of accounting. Hopefully it's only one week. What if I am so bad at it he makes me stay there for a month until I understand everything? I am starting to get nervous like one of those dreams where you show up naked for class and you find out there is a quiz that you never studied for.
"Good."
He stares at me for a moment, which is unusual for him, and then proceeds to reach over and open his desk drawer. Only his desk drawer won't budge. He gives a few good tugs and nothing happens. I hear him mumble under his breath as he gets up and puts all his weight into it.
"Here let me help you with that, Mr. Payne."
I get up and walk around his desk.
"If I can't get it open, what makes you think you can?"
He spits out the words while continuing to manhandle the drawer. I smirk and tap my foot. The mafia has ways of making people disappear; well I have ways of making things unstuck. It's one of my many talents. I would wink after that comment but that would seem inappropriate, especially in this scenario.
"Do you want me to try or not?" My arms are folded over my torso letting him know I am doing him a favor.
He lets go of the handle and chuckles. Mr. Payne actually laughs. I didn't think that was possible from him. The way everyone talks, especially the mailroom staff (they know everyone's business), you would think Mr. Payne was born with a hole in his brain where humor should be.
"Be my guest." He waves his hand at the draw and sits back into his chair, swiveling it around to face me for the show.
I give him a knowing smile and make a big show of trying to pull the handle, knowing my little wrist trick works every time. He will be amazed that a light tug from me dislodges the sticky drawer. I get ready to flick my wrist and pull ... nothing. I do it again and again. Still nothing. What the hell?
I am tugging and tugging at it, placing my healed shoe on the desk for leverage and yanking with all my might.
"I think that's enough, Ms. Drake. You can ..."
I got the drawer unstuck, but it caused me to lose my balance and fall over right into his lap, face first.
Chapter 7 - THE Holiday Party ...
I inhale, deeply. Big mistake. It just makes me moan rather loudly. He smells of spice and the aroma is so nice. His hand comes to rest on my head, slowly inching back until his finger tugs at the black rubber band holding my long red hair in place.
I raise my head looking up at him and can still feel the heat from his thighs on my cheeks. He reaches for my glasses, removing them from my face and gently placing them on the desk. As his hand returns he lightly brushes his finger across my bottom lip. My tongue darts out giving a flick as it passes by. He sucks air in quickly and when he releases the breath my name accompanies it.
"Morgana." Henrik moans.
It is my turn to move my hands. They both creep up his thighs and come to meet at the rock hard center. One hand starts to rub and I look up to see his eyes flutter close as his head falls back. He wants this and gods of THE I want this too.
My other hand unclasps his pants and then pulls down the zipper. I reach in and tug down his briefs just enough to release the engorged ...