1. Thank You, Sir

1

THANK YOU, SIR

NICO

Since the AC in our office building had failed, I'd been in survival mode. On some floors, it worked partially, but we'd had to move the people from the twentieth and twenty-first because the temperature on those floors reached one hundred degrees Fahrenheit. The rest of the building sizzled between eighty-five and ninety—hopefully, we wouldn't have to cart people away in ambulances.

Mr. Toral, my boss, stayed with us. Like a medieval king at the head of his army, he was first in and last out, braving the cooking pot with his shirt's top buttons open and sleeves rolled up.

"What use is the service agreement when they can so easily pull out of it?" He sat at his desk, his darkest glower marring his features. The cityscape behind his back glowed with lights. We were working late again.

"Tuesday is the earliest they can solve it, sir. We can change providers anytime, but we won't be able to get anyone here sooner. With the extreme temperatures during the past few weeks, everyone in the business is swamped."

My formidable boss swore in a way that would make our interns scurry away like chickens. He wiped his forehead with a tissue and threw it into the bin under his antique desk. Then he eyed me, his eyebrows drawn together.

I used to be terrified of him, but that felt like a long time ago. Now I had to avert my gaze from his incredible physique before I got wet. It was grossly inappropriate, and I hated myself for it, but in the heat of the office, the scent of his sweat had permeated the room and to me… Well, he smelled like my wildest fantasies. Add to that the rolled-up sleeves, the stubble, and the messy hair because he'd kept running his fingers through it in frustration, and I was in a constant state of arousal around him.

I wished I could offer him to take his anger out on me. I could tug my pants down and lie across his lap…

Luckily, I'd learned to harvest the energy my desire gave me and turn it into efficiency. I was desperately attracted to my boss, dreaming nightly about all the things he could do to me, but he merely thought I was dedicated to my tasks.

"I apologize for keeping you here after hours, Nico. Do you have someone reliable taking care of Benjamin?" The question about my son surprised me. Mr. Toral rarely asked anything personal, and even now, it made him visibly uncomfortable.

"Thank you for your concern, sir. My papa is with Benji. We knew June would be busy, and I've made arrangements."

Blowing out a breath, he nodded. "Good. Good. Um. The leave you have in July. How long is that?"

"One week, sir."

His jaw tightened. "Make it two. Paid."

Yes, he was a grump on his best day, but I considered myself lucky. When I became a single father at twenty-three, I could have easily ended up slaving at a dead-end job. Instead, I had the best insurance, a fantastic daycare around the corner from here, and several weeks of paid leave a year.

"Thank you, sir. You're very kind."

His mouth curled in a grimace. "Sure. I'm a teddy bear. Let's take a fifteen-minute break. I need a cold shower before we review the project summary."

"Of course, sir. I'll be back in fifteen with my notes from yesterday's meetings."

He grunted in response, which meant I was dismissed.

I closed the door to Mr. Toral's office and let out a long exhale. The insufferable summer heat had one particularly unpleasant side effect—it aggravated my lactation problem. My son had stopped chestfeeding weeks ago, but the milk kept coming. My pecs ached, full and heavy, and if I let them be for a couple more hours, I'd start leaking milk. I needed to pump it out.

Fifteen minutes.

I grabbed my bag and hurried to the bathroom. Aside from the private bathrooms in the executive offices, we had three showers on this floor for us minions. They'd been occupied frequently this summer with people seeking a short reprieve from the inhuman temperatures, but at night, our floor was deserted. I locked myself in the closest one, took off my shirt, and pulled the pump out of my bag. I sat on a stool and laid a towel on my lap because accidents happened and I didn't need sweet-smelling milk staining my pants. Then I attached the suction cup to my nipple and pressed the button.

The soft buzzing sound filled the small space, and the pumping began. Pull, release, pull, release. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the cool tiles. The constant heat. Would I have time to take a shower as well? I set a timer on my phone, just in case.

It was nine already, and I'd have to spend two more hours with Mr. Toral in his office. Even after he showered, his scent would remain in the room. I loved and hated it in equal measure. I could taste it on the back of my tongue as if I'd been licking his skin…

God, the suction felt so nice. My other nipple started leaking, and I squeezed it.

I shouldn't think about Mr. Toral while doing this , but it felt so deliciously forbidden. During these overheated summer nights, his scent followed me everywhere. Pine, whiskey, salt, and something dangerous and exciting. My nipples tingled, my milk flowing freely, and I couldn't help the wetness gathering in my hole. I clenched it, afraid to stain my pants. The pressure in my left pec lessened, and I paused the milking. I needed to take off my pants, or they'd get wet.

Naked, I leaned on the wall in the shower stall and attached the pump to my other nipple. I moaned when it started pulling. Fuck . What was happening to me? This ritual had never been anything but a nuisance, but now my hole loosened and slick leaked out, smearing my crease when I shifted from foot to foot. I was shaking with arousal.

What if he walked in right now and saw me?

It was the wrong thing to imagine. My hard cock strained toward the door, and I upped the intensity of the electric pump. The rhythmical sucking that should have been about as arousing as the brushing of teeth suddenly felt like…masturbation.

I ached so much. He'd walk in and see me, smell me… Would he be appalled? Or would he want me like this? Dripping with slick and milk, horny, oh so ready…

Without thinking, I pushed two fingers into my hole. I couldn't reach deep, but together with the sensation in my nipples, it was enough. Cum spurted out of me and dripped down the glass of the shower stall.

And the pump still pulled on my left pec, prolonging my orgasm.

Moaning, I increased the intensity even more and squeezed my other pec. My right nipple was elongated and tender from the milking. I tweaked it with my slick-stained hand. I cried out, my voice bouncing off the tile. Could I come again so soon? I was a mess. What was I doing?

The beeping of my phone tore me out of my trance.

I needed to run back.

I didn't have time for a thorough shower. I rinsed my body, dried myself, and washed the pump before throwing it into my bag, wrapped in the towel. Then I dragged my clothes on, almost falling when my pants got stuck on my wet skin. Last, I checked my hair in the mirror. As good as it would get.

Already too hot again, I sprinted through the hallways. I dropped the bag under my desk and gathered my notes and laptop.

I paused in front of the door to Mr. Toral's office. Did I just make myself come while pumping milk, thinking of my boss? How sick was that?

No time to freak out. I had work to do, and I was already late.