Kendra's POV:
I've been working at this office for three weeks now. Everyday, I fax, copy, email, make coffee, distribute memos, etc. I sit at my desk, surrounded by twenty odd other desks, separated by small cubicles acting as some sense of privacy. I work for a law firm. A very famous law firm that handles high profile cases. Divorces, business mergers, company law. You name it, they handle it.
I arrive early every morning. Almost an hour early, to be sure I'm not late due to traffic. I like organization and control. I feel like the day is going to hell without that. I'm the first to get here, and usually the last to leave. My life and home have now become this high rise office building. I'm not complaining. The money is good. People here are nice and polite. And the boss, isn't so bad. To work for or look at.
That is the first thing that occurred to me when I arrived for my interview for the position. I was shown into a large office with huge windows running from floor to ceiling offering a view of the city, sixty floors below. A massive mahogany desk took up the center of the room. A black leather desk chair behind it, was turned toward the window. It's occupant was on the telephone having a rather heated discussion. The low tones of his voice exuded both power and influence. I wasn't sure that I should be in the room just yet. I didn't need to blow this interview by eavesdropping. But the temp had shown me in. Suddenly he swivelled the chair around and hung up the phone.
He looked up. Catching my gaze, and I felt the breath seize in my throat. Sitting before me was a Greek God. Even sitting in the chair, I could tell that his shoulders were broad. His arms firm with lean muscle. His face was masculine and angled, yet contained a sense of beauty. His eyes were stormy sea swept grey. And his hair was black as night. He had a little stubble on his face, which I thought was a bit off to be an attorney. His lips were firm yet supple. The kind of lips that a woman would love to be kissed by. He raked his long fingered hand through his somewhat mussed up hair, and gestured for me to have a seat before him.
I sat down. My knees trembling. Afraid my words would not come out right and I'd sound like a bumbling idiot. What was the problem? It was as if I'd never seen a handsome man before. The city was crawling with them. I needed to snap out of this. Especially if I wanted this job. And I needed this job.
"So Ms. Walker, could you please tell me a little about your work history, and why you think you would be the best candidate for the office manager position." It was more of a command than request or question. Though the power and bite present earlier in his tone had dissipated. Now words flowed from his mouth in a honey sweet cadence. Making you want to answer any question he had waiting for you. I remembered that I actually could speak and answered him. "Well, Mr. James, I just finished an internship down the block at Holdings and Withrowe, where I completed the same tasks which I would be completing should I get this position. I have letters of reference for you, as well."
"Yes, I've read those. Normally we don't take on interns. Just starting out, they have so much to learn. But often think they know it all already. But I think I'm willing to take a chance on you." He stated, raking his eyes over me. I could feel myself blushing from my head to my toes.
His reply held a mixture of excitement at getting a chance, and annoyance that he would assume that I would be like all the other interns. And what gave him the right to assume anything about anyone? I was a bit upset, but hid it, rose from my chair, shook his hand, and was told I'd be starting on the following Monday. Then I was dismissed. In a cool manner. That was him. Alexander James. Cool, calm, and collected. Unless you were in his way, or on the opposite side of the courtroom.
So everyday since I was hired, he has passed by my desk. Not even noticing that I'm alive. Sure there is the occasional good morning. You're here early. Basic chitchat. But nothing substantial. But who am I kidding? He's my employer. Why would he take interest? He doesn't really take interest in anyone here at the office. So it isn't just me. But still, I agonize over it. Deciding what would be perfect to wear to work. How should I do my hair? Would he prefer it up? Or down in loose curls? Does he prefer natural make up? Or the dramatic look? Really, a woman can drive herself within inches of insanity trying to figure out the desires of the male species. And so here I sit at my desk, daydreaming and contemplating the impossible. How to have an affair with the boss..?
Alexander's POV:
I'm sitting at my desk, trying to read this mornings paper, and review briefs for this afternoon's court hearing, yet all I can think about is her. Kendra Walker. Three weeks ago she walked into this office. Stood in the doorway. I could feel her eyes boring holes into the back of my skull. Could hear her nervous shuffling and intakes of breath trying to figure out if she should remain inside or flee for her life. When I was on the phone I expected to turn my chair around and see a mouse of a woman, full of fear and trepidation. Instead, I found a warm, very attractive, and confident young lady. She was of average height. A bit curvy, in all the right places. As her knee length pencil skirt and white button down dress shirt clearly enhanced her assets. Her hair was shoulder length. Dark brown, and hanging in loose curls. Her eyes, wide and a bright blue, were filled with curiosity and anxiety when I spoke to her, inviting her to sit. I knew before the interview had begun that I was going to hire her. Her letters of reference were impeccable. But I had to complete the interview. Protocol you know. So the interview went on for a short bit. I told her she was hired, and dismissed her, cooly. Even though I felt anything but cool.
I try to never let a woman affect me like she did in the short amount of time we had known each other. Not that I don't have women who are friends. Or lovers. I just keep them at a safe distance. Not allowing them to become fixtures in my life. My relationships are very open. Expectations are made very clear at the onset. They have no ties to me, nor me to them. That way the break up, if you must call it that, is clear and concise. Clean. Not filled with drama and crying. That's how I like it. Reserved, and in control.
So now, why am I trying to get work done, and all I can think about is the woman sitting on the other side of my door. At a desk, typing away on a computer. Drawing up briefs and reports. Graphs and charts. Walking to my door, I peek through the rectangular window and can see that she is staring intently at her screen. A pencil eraser sitting on her full lower lip. And all I want is to be that eraser. On that lovely lip. I harden at the thought. My cock has a mind of it's own these days. I notice her hair is partly up, partly down. She's been changing it up lately. For me? I can only hope. But it makes no sense. And she is wearing more natural make up. Allowing her own beauty to show through. She's also beginning to leave an extra button undone on her shirts and dresses. That I certainly don't mind. Unless Fulton or one of the other partners takes notice. What the fuck am I thinking? I have no rights to her. We're not even in one of my nice clean clear concise "relationships." I rake my hand through my hair, close my eyes, and think of this morning before work.
I was in the shower, lathering up. I had closed my eyes to wash shampoo out of my hair. And there she was before me. All slick from soap. Naked. She came closer to me. Reached out, and grasped my cock. Trailing her fingers up and down the length of it. I cold almost smell her lavender scented perfume. Before I knew what I was doing, one hand was clutching my balls, while the other was pumping my shaft fast until I sprayed the wall of the shower with my cum. I felt like I was a teenage boy again. Not a 32 year old man, who was supposed to be in control of his desires and emotions.
The truth was, she was an excellent employee. The best office manager I'd had since I started with this firm. And I didn't need to go fucking up anyone's professional career. But truth be told. I wanted her. And usually, I get what I want. So I've been trying to figure out ways to steal time with her. Get to know her. See what makes her tick. What she does and doesn't like. But I've been too damn nervous to make a move. This is not me at all. I am usually so far from this. Why in the hell does she have this hold on me? We barely speak. Yet I know her voice. Can hear it in my head. It haunts me in my dreams. And now in my goddamned shower. I have to do something about this. Maybe if I do set aside the professional aspect of the situation and fuck her, I'll get her out of my system, and be back to normal. Here's to hoping.
Kendra's POV:
Fuck. I think to myself. I'm running late. I was having this awesome dream where I was being ravished by one Alexander James, and I hit the snooze button on the alarm. Which has now made me thirty minutes late for work. Which will turn into staying another hour or two at work this evening to get caught up. That's how it works. So much to be done. Most of it in the morning hours. If you come in late, you're swamped and buried in paperwork. It's ok though. I did it to myself. I should have just gotten up. Instead of trying to conjure up the dream again. In the dream, I was on my bed. Blindfolded and naked. Tied up. And filthy things were being whispered in my ears. His voice was still in my head. Telling me what all he wanted to do to me. Planned to do to me. He had begun kissing a path down my chest and stomach and was headed toward the promised land when the screaming buzzer from hell interrupted my piece of heaven.
I still am seeing flashes of that dream as I rush into the office and throw my purse and coat into the corner of my little cubicle. I take my seat, brush my hair out of my face, and try to appear to be hard at work. Not like I had just arrived. "Kendra. Mr. James would like to speak with you if you have a moment." Ashley, the blonde goddess from the next cubicle announced. Shit. I thought. Busted. My first time ever being late and I'm gonna get fired for it. What excuse could I offer? Sorry boss, you were about to go down on me and I simply couldn't miss it so I hit the snooze button? Please. I'd rather be fired than admit it. To anyone. Much less him.
