Hey readers!
Just taking a brief break from writing my multi-chapter story 'birdcage'. This will be a stand-alone piece and I hope you all enjoy :)
As always, feedback, comments, votes and favourites make my day, so keep them coming!
Happy fapping,
G
Emilia wanted to fucking kill Trish. She'd asked for help with a compliance report, but had forgotten to mention that it was due the next day...and that it was for Mr. Grayson...and that she'd already told him Emilia was 'on the case'.
She was still the new girl in the office, which meant she felt obliged to take that sort of shit. For how much longer though, she didn't know.
"You really could have given me a bit more of a heads up." She scolded Trish in the break room over a cup of crappy instant coffee.
"Oh I'm sorry love, you're a young go-getter, I thought it would be good for you! Show off to the new boss and all. I have every faith in you."
She plastered on a condescending smile and patted the back of Emilia's hand.
"Anyway, I'm off early today...Big date night with the hubby. Let me know how the meeting goes!"
"Wait...what meeting?"
"For the report. Mr. Grayson expects it presented. Didn't I say? Sorry! 4pm. You'll do great lovey. Oh gosh look at the time...got to catch my train. See you!" She sauntered out of the room, her handbag smacking into Emilia's back as she went.
"...Fucks sake."
Emilia spent the next 2 hours desperately trying to pull together her presentation. She hadn't formally met the big boss yet, but she'd heard he didn't take any prisoners. She'd seen one of the admin assistants coming down from his floor one day in tears. He'd called her a 'registered imbecile' after she'd deleted a whole of host of his emails by accident.
He had one thing going for him though; he was unbelievably attractive, and Emilia and the other girls in the office had been known to make the odd '50 shades' reference.
He was tall and an athletic build, muscular thighs that suggested rugby rather than football. His eyes were a dark chocolate swirl and his hair a short crop of dirty blonde curls. Emilia had been single for far too long to let him go unnoticed, but despite her wandering eyes as he passed her cubicle, she had no intentions of pursuing it. He was after all her boss, and she didn't want to start this job with the label of 'office slut'.
The alarm went off on her phone to remind her of the meeting, and she begrudgingly gathered her half-finished paperwork and headed towards the stairs.
As she ascended, she regretted her outfit choice. Had she known she would be meeting Mr. Grayson, she might have worn a slightly longer pencil skirt, or a shirt with a higher neckline. It was however 40 degrees outside and the only air-con the office had was the two inches you were able to open the windows.
She reached the large opaque glass door at the end of the hallway and she knocked.
"In." The clipped voice shouted from inside, and Emilia pushed open the door.
He sat behind the desk, brow furrowed at his computer. She waited politely, but it was several awkward moments before he looked up from the screen to acknowledge her.
"You're not Trish." He sighed impatiently.
"No. I'm Emilia. Trish asked me to take this on. It was a little last minute I apologise." She took the seat across from him, having given up waiting to be offered, and fingered awkwardly through her stack of paperwork.
"Are you new?" He crossed his arms across his chest and sat back into his chair.
Emilia flinched at his short snapping tone.
"Yes. A couple of months now." Emilia returned his tone, growing impatient at his obvious rudeness. She handed him the report and smiled politely as he leafed through it.
...She waited...the only noise in the room was the crisp turning of the pages, and he seemed content to let her stew in the silence. She watched his long fingers flick each page over, one by one. She could fucking kill Trish.
"This isn't really acceptable is it." He stated finally, throwing the report back towards her on the desk.
"There's nothing about the June board meeting, and it barely covers the complaints procedure. How long did you take on this?"
"Yes...well I didn't..."
"I haven't got time for excuses. Hand this back to Trish to finish please. I'll discuss this with your line-manager. That's all." He looked back to his computer and began typing.
Emilia stood to leave, but thought better of it.
"Trish gave me this yesterday. Yesterday! And I told her I hadn't done this before, but she clearly didn't give a shit about that..." He stopped to look up at her, aghast at her outburst.
"...and I get that you're the boss, but you don't have to be so fucking rude when all I've done is my best and..."
Grayson stood and in one swift motion, leaned over the desk, grasped the back of Emilia's neck, and pulled her mouth to his. The kiss was firm and passionate and it stopped as soon as it had started. Emilia stumbled back when he pulled away, stunned into silence.
"Go and lock the door." He commanded, unbuttoning his suit jacket and shrugging out of it.
Emilia stood motionless, her lips still tingling from his bruising kiss. His breathing was heavier and she watched his chest heaving gently in the crisp white shirt, the buttons at the front straining across his chest as he did.
"Unless you want to go back to your desk?"
Emilia turned and moved towards the door, her hand reaching out towards it as her heart hammered in her chest. She felt his eyes on her and she paused. She wanted him...desperately in that moment, and she steadied her breathing as she flicked the lock.
'What the fuck am I doing here?' Her mind raced.
"I've seen you." Emilia turned at the sound of his voice. He was at the front of the desk now, leaning casually against it. His eyes were full of promise and it liquefied her. She pressed back against the frosted glass for balance.
"You swan around this office in those tight skirts...perky little tits bouncing around. I've spent many afternoons picturing you bent over that desk. If you tell me you don't want this you can leave." He unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt and pulled off his tie, discarding it on the desk. She could see the dark shadow of chest hair curling over the collar.
After a brief moment convincing herself she couldn't possibly do this, Emilia stepped away from the glass purposefully and moved towards the desk. She reached out, pressed her hands to his warm chest and sunk into him, his arms coming around to envelope her. His mouth crashed down once more with renewed fire, his tongue pressing urgently against hers. His hands were demanding, untucking the shirt from her skirt and skating his fingers over the warm flesh he found there. Her skin burned at his touch, and goosebumps rippled down her arms.
Pulling away breathlessly he moved to bring his lips to her ear.
"Take them off." It was barely a whisper.