Sitting down at my desk, I press the pads of my fingers to my lips, and sigh. My eyes drop to the intercom, knowing I have to call Dalia in, and tell her about the change to her schedule.
You're her boss. Remember that!
This shouldn't be hard, but it is. I don't want to give her a task that my sister is willing to fire her over if it isn't perfect. And that's what Sandy expects; perfection.
It isn't fair, and I really don't like the thought of it. She just got here, let me enjoy her some before sending her away.
Pushing the button, I say, “Giada, can you please send Dalia to my office?”
“I'll call her now, Mr. Vox.”
Sitting back in my chair, I rake my fingers through my hair, and close my eyes. Taking in a deep breath, I let it out slow.
Don't let her get to you, stay in control!
Opening my eyes, she comes around the corner at the same time. My dick throbs just seeing her, pulsing and hungry for a taste.
Damn it, I'm not sure how I'm going to keep myself in control. So much for staying in control.
Her shapely curves are accentuated by her dress. It hugs her hips, fitting tightly around her tits, and pushing them up so her cleavage is busting out the top.
The buttons down the center bulge, threatening to snap off. She fumbles with her hands at her waist as she stands in the doorway.
“You wanted to see me?”
She looks nervous.
The idea is exciting, sending another surge of heat to my cock. Maybe she's nervous because she's thinking about the kiss that almost was. Or maybe she's thinking about how badly she wishes I had made a move.
Biting my bottom lip, I tug it in and smile. “Come in and take a seat. I want to talk to you about something.”
Timidly, she moves to the chair and sits. We're both quiet. I'm letting whatever she's thinking fester for a bit. Her thighs are rubbing back and forth as her hands keep clasping and opening around the arms of the chair.
Her eyes jump around all over. They're on my face, the ceiling, on the floor, and on the pictures on the wall. They don't stay in one place for long.
Finally, I rest my elbows on the desk and ask, “Do you know who Dylan Fergeson is?”
She thinks for a second, then shakes her head. “No, actually, I don't.” Her hands fall into her lap, weighing down the fabric of the dress. I imagine the outline of her panties, the thin straps that wrap her hips and convene as a single strip up over her pussy.
My dick jerks in my pants. She's breathing hard, breaths short and rapid as she waits for me to speak again.
“Well, he's looking for our help on a new project, and I want you on it. I just had a meeting with him, and we’re signed on to do all the graphics for his sneakers.” She tilts her head, listening more intently. “I'm assuming you've at least heard of D Sneakers?”
“Are you serious right now? You want to put me on the campaign for D Sneakers? The D Sneakers?”
Nodding, I smile. “Dylan Fergeson, D himself, just left a little while ago, and we start Monday.” Holding out my hands, I ask, “So, what do you think? Think you can handle it?”
I smirk, veering my stare, and making sure she sees my eyes move down her body. I hope she gets the double meaning. And I hope she gives it back.
She swallows, and I watch her neck bob as she licks her lips. Her lush lips look dewy and velvet soft. My mind starts to picture them around my cock. I can picture it clear as day. Her mouth forming an O as she sucks my crown into her mouth and her cheeks hollow.
Fuck, she's killing me.
“I know I can handle it,” she says easily, her voice clear and solid.
Clearing my throat again, I shift in my seat. “Good, we start Monday then.”
“Thank you, I really do appreciate this job, and you letting me take part in such a big campaign—”
Holding up my hand, I stop her from speaking. I don't want her kissing my ass, I want to fuck hers. Dipping my head into my chest, I smile. “If you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to ask.” Winking, my lips curl to one side. “Really, anything you need. I'm here.”
Her eyes blaze with understanding, and my chest burns as I see her lick her lips and cross her legs. She doesn't blink at all, her eyes imploring as she lifts her chest higher. Pebbled nipples poke out from under her dress, drawing my eyes down.
Is she doing this on purpose? Does she want me to look?
If she's trying to make me want her, it's working.
“I'll keep that in mind.” Her voice comes out smooth and clear. “Is there anything else?”
There is actually. . . I'm going to fuck you until you scream. I'm going to bend you over my desk and fuck you until you come all over my cock.
“No, that's all,” I say, my thoughts a hidden layer in my words. “I'll have Giada send you the details for the sneaker campaign.”
Dalia tips her head and leaves my office. I watch her go, unable to walk her out because I'm hard as a rock and tenting my pants. My dick is firm, my balls are tight, and my muscles are pulsing with need.
My cock hurts it's so hard. Standing up, I walk around my office, trying to get it to go away, but it's not working. I need to take care of this raging hard-on.
Closing the door to my office, I lock it, and flip the shades down on my windows. Sitting at my desk, I pull my cock out, relieving the tension. But my dick
