Thick fingers grab my hair, pulling sharply, causing me to arch my back in hopes of easing some of his grip.
"Yes. Yes." With a roar, a warmth fills my core as Josh jolts with small twinges behind me, as if to bury himself further, his fingertips leaving new bruises along my skin.
Every muscle is still tensed, strung out, as I lay against the desk. Each breath easier to pull than the last as my heartrate begins to slow. The sound of wood sliding against wood breaks the silence as Josh opens the top drawer. The one on the left side, where he keeps a box of tissues.
“Make sure you clean up before you go get my lunch. Don’t want anyone to notice my cum sliding down your thighs when you walk past them,” he smirks, throwing a wad of used tissuesonto the tabletop near my face, before zipping himself back into his pants.
Then, without even a backwards glance, he walks out of the room, making sure to give the statue a brief caress before walking past.
Sighing, I reach for the discarded box of tissue, pulling out the last two sheets.
Of course the fucker would use most of them. At least he’s more like a dry well than the raging flood he claims to be.
With all my clothes straightened back to where they belong, I drop the used tissues into the small waste basket at the side of the desk, tying up the small bag to take with me.
Afterall, can’t have any evidence for any associates to find. I’m pretty sure used tissues being found, due to lack of proper disposal, is described somewhere in my contract as being grounds for immediate release.
Stomach rumbling, nerves still wound tight, I sigh as I leave the office, for once grateful for the walk to Jerrie's Diner.
Chapter Two
Kaitlyn
If there’s a level below “the walk of shame” I’m sure carrying cum covered tissues in a plastic bag and smelling like a brothel would be it.
Especially when you’ve been caught by Janine, the gossip queen of the company. Guard dog of the reception desk in the lobby. And the heartbeat of the gossip mill itself.
If you want information on anyone within a five mile radius of the woman, you talk to her.
Which means, everyone is already huddled in their little friend groups, whispering amongst themselves as I return from Jerrie’s Diner, white plastic bags of takeout in one hand, while balancing a cardboard drink holder in the other.
Head held high, I ignore the tittering laughter and sly glances as I walk past their little cubicles, to Josh's office.
Leaning my back against the office’s wooden door, I carefully press down on the handle, tightening my grip on the plastic bags as the Styrofoam shifts inside. Sliding into the room, the door closing with a soft click, I freeze as laughter fills the air.
Time seems to stop as I find myself trapped in the gaze of the most beautiful young woman I have ever seen.
Holy shit, she’s gorgeous…
And way out of his league…
Red hair with deep amber highlights cascade down her body in waves, like living fire, over black satin. Emerald eyes hold me hostage as she looks me over, a small smile gracing her lips, painted the deepest of red.
She's a goddess walking the earth among us mortals. A queen who has deemed us worthy to be in her presence. Her very aura calls to me, making me want to kneel down at her feet and bask in her calming glow.
A sentiment that Josh must feel as well as he leans even closer to her, his fingers--the very ones that had been all over my own body less than an hour ago--brushing along her golden skin.
With a small nod, she returns her attention to Josh, "And he fell... face first... into the other man's lap?"
Her voice is soft, lilting, with just enough croon in her voice to be warm like honey, just as one would expect upon seeing her, as she continues, "You don't say. Did he ever recover?"
Josh smirks, a hint of laughter within his voice, "Nah, he ended up committing industry suicide, trying to make amends but of course it wasn't enough. As if anything could ever make up for that mistake. Especially since there were so many witnesses and, being a Christmas party, there were quite a few snot-nosed, bratty hell spawns in attendance."
I can't help but cringe at his open opinion of the client's children. Thankfully he usually keeps those types of thoughts to himself, so to hear him say it out loud, to someone not under an NDA... I can't help but find his behavior confusing.
"If he didn't recover, where is he now?"
"I hear he's stuck at some fast food joint, throwing down those nasty frozen burgers, across town."