"Need a hand?"
Frustrated by the lack of height that meant she would need either a step stool or the help of the man leaning in through her office door, Melissa let her reaching arms fall to her side with a slap against her upper thighs.
"I don't know why they don't make these storage closets with lower shelves," she complained.
If it was up to Kendrick, everything Melissa needed would be stacked just outside of her reach. The woman had a spectacular little body and when he saw it stretched with her hands high over her head, his mind easily envisioned her lying in his bed with her small hands holding on to the rungs of his headboard.
It was an easy leap because he had spent the past eight months noticing how her suit skirts hugged the bubble of her ass, and how her short slender legs bunched muscularly as she walked in those needle sharp stiletto heels. Her shirts weren't as form fitting as those skirts, but more than once, he'd caught glimpses of an impressive cleavage that bisected two largely rounded breasts. Those brief glances had made him want to clear off the nearest surface, rip open the buttons of her silk blouses and bury his face in the bounty of her chest while he plunged his hard cock into her wet little pussy. Eight months of intense jack-off sessions two or three times a day, because she rioted every nerve of his libido.
As Kendrick moved behind her, Melissa forced herself to take the necessary steps out of the small utility closet. He was so big and she knew, knew, that he would smell like twelve sins for the price of one. She also knew that if she relaxed the casual business relationship that they shared even a fraction, she would be climbing his lithe body in one single bound. Or, that's how she imagined she would react, so she merely nodded her gratitude as he turned those smiling chocolate brown eyes toward her.
"You only want me around because I can reach all the good spots."
Hell yes! There were some nooks and crannies he would likely fill nicely, but she ignored those thoughts to add a few more feet to their distance. Once she was safely out of licking range, she silently admitted that there were hundreds of spots she wanted him to reach, so she briefly allowed herself a moment to wonder about the remote chance of seducing him into a steamy romp across her desk. He pulled down the client binder with hardly a reach, and his position gave the full view of his broad shoulders and a very tight rear end. She allowed herself another five seconds to ogle the younger man's body. Then she moved behind her desk to address her colleague in a respectable tone that relayed none of her inner feelings.
"I greatly appreciate your help, Kendrick. Thank you." She watched the dimples around his smile dip into view as he lifted an arm against the door jamb to lean against it. The ribbed edge of his short sleeved polo shirt revealed the black swirl of a tattoo, and even though Melissa wanted to trace the inked lines against his bicep with the tip of her tongue, she turned away from the gorgeous site in her closet's doorway to find something busy looking to do.
Kendrick watched passively while she straightened a desk planner and then restacked a pile of folders at the corner of her desk. He wondered if she was curious to why he was in her office, but she seemed so intent on reorganizing her already neat desk to even notice he was there. He supposed it shouldn't surprise him, considering she was a senior executive with a good fifteen years of age on him. But, thanks to the news he was about to divulge, he would quickly be moving the lines of separation, closer to meeting.
Straightening to his full height, Kendrick strolled purposefully across the plush carpeting to lower himself into a chair next to her desk. He wouldn't complain about the view she afforded by keeping her back to him, but he needed to deliver the news first hand, before she read it in a memo or sterile e-mail. He opened his mouth, but feared his voice might not come out as strong as he needed it to be, so he cleared his throat. "Melissa, I need you to have a seat." His tone was one that said she needed to start looking for another job, so he made sure to meet her gaze with a friendly smile to smooth out the scene. He chuckled when she turned widened eyes on him, with one lifted eyebrow, as if to ask if he knew who he was addressing. It was adorably hot, and it further fueled his raging libido, instead of the nonverbal warning intended by the look. He blinked heavily, but then met her gaze with a quizzical one that bordered on teasing.
She knew he hadn't meant any disrespect by asking her to have a seat, but his tone was one he never used and it surprised her to hear it. For the past eight months, he was nothing but sweet and helpful. Not that he was rude just then. But his tone just didn't fit with the image she'd forced herself to maintain when dealing with him. He sounded like a man that knew what he wanted, how he wanted it done, and how long it needed to take to get it done. Melissa wanted to maintain the same cool indifference she'd used in the past, but something about the way he was looking at her said he could see right through her.
On shaky legs, Melissa plopped down into the manager's chair behind her desk and folded her trembling fingers in her lap to keep him from seeing her raw nerves. Normally, she only dealt with him for a few seconds at a time, so it had been easy to keep herself cool and detached in his company. She was afraid her voice would come out as shaky as the rest of her body, so she nodded curtly to let him know that he had her unwavering attention.
Kendrick leaned back in the chair, crossed one leg at the ankle over his knee, and gazed directly into her blue eyes. He wanted to tell her everything he wanted to do to her, but was determined to let his hard earned plan play out. "I wanted to tell you in person, that we have been chosen to manage McCormandy's account." He watched her facial expressions shift from surprise, to joy. From confusion, and then to a look of accomplishment. When her head cocked slightly to the side, he knew it was the first sign of a brewing storm. "Thirty days, Melissa." He leaned forward in his chair to pin her with a fierce glare. "If you see any reason that I can't do this, I'll resign at day thirty-one."
This was happening way too fast. First, he told her that the promotion she was working toward was theirs, and that she would have to spend nearly every hour of the work day with him. He didn't say it out loud, but that's the level of commitment that the account would need. She had access to his personnel file, so she knew he graduated from the University of Texas at the top of his class with an MBA. He probably believed she thought he wasn't qualified to do the job. She knew he was more than capable, and wondered why he was wasting time settling for a co-management role when he should have his goals set toward higher management positions. It didn't make any sense, and she seriously worried that he'd mistake her previous treatment of him as a sign that she didn't believe in his talent.
Seeing no way out of it, she threw up her hands and collapsed back into her chair. When she was sure of what she wanted to say, she put aside her stuffy personality and made sure to look him directly in the eyes when she spoke. "You mistook my apprehension, Kendrick." She took a deep breath and continued. "You and I will be traveling extensively together. Have you had the chance to explain that to your girlfriend?"
She half expected him to laugh and then ask why she thought an old woman would make his girlfriend jealous or upset. He didn't. He blinked slowly, but maintained eye contact to deliver his nearly whispered reply. "No girlfriend, Missy."
Nobody had called her Missy in so long that the name sounded foreign and strange to her ears. She decided she liked it, but then wondered why her closest friends called her Melissa. He was likely used to shortening names for ease in texting, she supposed, but she couldn't help but wonder why nobody ever called her Missy.
Melissa was a woman who wore sensible clothing to earn respect in the business world. Her brown highlighted hair was gathered into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, and she most always put it up the same every day. Melissa, she understood, was the corporate woman. So, who was Missy? Caught up in her musing, she nearly missed Kendrick's return question.
"Are you trying to figure out a way to tell your husband you'll be traveling with his competition?"
She snorted and held out her left hand for inspection. "That, my dear boy, is a divorce ring not a wedding ring." She wiggled her fingers to display the rainbows of color shimmering from the cluster of diamonds and remembered the fire and determination she had the day she picked it out. Other than making sure the jeweler's inspection was met every six months, she hadn't really looked at it in a very long time. Then, as if she needed reminded that there were a lot of things she hadn't done in a long time, Kendrick's deep laughter caused the toes in her pointed shoes to curl.
He glanced to the clock behind her desk and noted that they were now dealing on personal time. It was a-quarter-to-six, which meant the past forty five minutes had been wasted on business manners he hadn't needed to maintain. Especially now that he knew she wasn't married. He heard that she was divorced, but had no idea how desperately he wanted to hear it from her mouth, before believing it as truth. A major weight lifted from him, and he moved with gut instinct to invite her to dinner to celebrate their joint promotions.
Of course, she turned him down. It wasn't a shock, but a letdown. He knew she'd need a little time to acclimate to his terms, but knew patience had gotten him this far already. Eventually, he'd win her over.
