TAKEN BY THE BOSS
“I’m not sure what’s going on with you lately, Isabelle, but your work is suffering.”
I look up as a manila folder lands in front of my face. The seductive scent of sandalwood flows around me and I know who it is before I look up. My boss, Sebastian Grey, is standing in front of my desk with his arms crossed.
Damn, he looks pissed.
I close my eyes. This isn’t looking good for six-thirty on a Friday evening.
“What do you mean, Mr. Grey? I separated the data by year and subcategorized by the type of unit, just as you asked. Residential, commercial, mixed-use…” I can barely continue. My boss, the enigmatic Mr. Grey, has a peculiar effect on me. Around him I instantly lose my powers of speech, hearing and comprehension. I become a big bundle of nerves. Nerves with very wet panties.
“Yes, Isabelle, I see that. But several columns are still missing. I need the current owners of the land parcels and the asking price. I’ll need this on my desk by morning.” His voice lowers with each sentence until he’s almost whispering. My body reacts as if he’s whispering in my ear instead of chastising me. Then his words sink in and I look up in alarm.
“But… But I have plans tonight,” I stammer. My on-again, off-again, sometimes-boyfriend, a lawyer on the partner track, has finally gotten a night off work. I’ve been horny for ages and I actually have a chance to get some and he wants me to work late?
“Going out with your boyfriend?” He practically sneers the word.
He’s only met Evan once but the two took an instant dislike to each other. I’ve never understood why. Most people adore Evan with his ready wit and easy charm.
“That’ll have to wait. This is top priority. Overtime is part of your job description, Ms. Wells.”
I slump down in my seat and nod. “Of course, sir.”
His eyes glitter in triumph. “Very well, then.” He stands watching me for a minute before he turns and strides into his office.
As soon as he’s gone I stick my tongue out. The childish act gives me little relief as I type out a quick text to Evan. The worst part is that I’m sure he won’t mind. He’ll probably be relieved. The next time I complain about his long hours, he’ll be sure to throw this in my face.
“I’m never getting laid again,” I mutter.
“What was that, Isabelle?”
I jump at the unexpected voice behind me. I swivel in my office chair to see Sebastian standing behind me. He’s changed clothes and is wearing all black. The suit looks like Hugo Boss and fits him perfectly.
“Did you need something, Mr. Grey?”
His eyes narrow. “I’ve told you a million times to call me Sebastian. Are you trying to make me feel old?”
“No, sir.” I look down at my hands, unnerved by the sudden blush that races across my face and neck. I cannot tell him the real reason I avoid saying his name, of course. I can’t tell him that saying his name, Sebastian, reminds me of all the times I’ve masturbated to thoughts of him. It reminds me of all the times I’ve screamed it out in my empty apartment, my pussy creaming all over my hand as I come thinking of him.
So I simply say, “Just trying to be professional, sir. Are you leaving for the night?”
He nods and turns to go. “Yes, I have tickets to the symphony. Don’t forget. I need that report completed right away.”
His footsteps echo down the hall and then a minute later I hear the telltale ding of the elevator. I lean back in my seat with a prolonged sigh.
Another late night working on the same stupid report.
I glare at the manila folder on my desk before snatching it up and pulling out the report I submitted to him that morning. It’s covered in red marks and I shake my head. It’s ridiculous to feel offended at the way he writes all over my work but it seems so elementary. So unnecessary . Especially since, wait, no it can’t be…
I root around in the bottom of my desk drawer for the photocopy of the last report I turned in. He
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