Chapter 5

Chapter Five

I look up at the clock on the wall for what seems like the millionth time in the last… ten minutes. It’s only ten minutes later than it was the last time I checked. 5:45 p.m.

It’s Friday, and I honestly can’t wait to hightail it out of this office and as far away from Nathan as I can get. It’s been one hell of a first week. I still don’t have my own workspace, and every time I ask about it, Nathan either grunts something or completely blindsides me by changing the topic. He’s good at that. I guess it comes with years of practicing law. I’ve watched him closely this week, closer than I’m willing to admit even to myself. He’s good. I already knew that of course. It’s the whole reason I worked so hard to gain a position in this firm.

I wanted to learn from the best. Work with the best. And here I am, wanting to sleep with the best too. Although that fact is yet to be discovered. Did Nathan make me come harder than I ever have using just his fingers Monday night?

Yes. A big, fireworks explosion yes.

However, being good at using your fingers is not the same as being good at using your dick. I think. I’ve never really had a boyfriend who was good at either.

Fifteen minutes. I can hold out for fifteen more minutes. I’m not a complete wanton hussy. Despite the protest of my vagina, which is currently begging me to be careless and jump on that man like it’s nobody’s business. Even if I wanted to, which I don’t. But let’s pretend I did. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do. I’m confident in many aspects of my life. Sex, sexual pursuits, is not one of them. So it’s probably a good thing I don’t want to follow through with my body’s desire to have Nathan Miller buried as deep inside me as he could possibly go.

I look back at the clock. 5:50. Ten more minutes. I catch Nathan watching me from the corner of my eye.

“The time doesn’t actually go faster by watching the clock,” he says.

“I know.” I return my focus to the papers I’m highlighting. I can’t lie. This sofa I’ve been working from is hella comfy. I’d just like to not be locked in an office with him. It’s like I’m being put through the ultimate test: is my will stronger than my libido? So far, my brains and self-restraint are winning out. I glance up as Nathan stands from his desk.

“I’ll be back. Don’t leave before I return,” he says.

“Wait… It’s ten to six. I need to leave at six,” I tell him.

“Why? Do you have somewhere more important to be?” he asks with raised eyebrows.

“No, I just—I finish at six,” I state.

He pulls a key out of his pocket. “That’s okay. You can leave. I just thought you might want a tour of your office,” he says.

“It’s ready?” Why did he wait until the end of the day to show me?

“It is, but if you want to wait until Monday to see it, that’s fine.” He pockets the key and walks out of his office, leaving me staring after him. Okay, my eyes are transfixed on his ass, on his firm ass, hugged by those custom-fitted dress pants.

Damn it! I internally scold myself and look away. Since he’s left the office, I pack up my work. I’ll take it home and finish it over the weekend. Grabbing my phone, I pull up the group chat I have with my sister and mum.

Me:

I’ll be late home and won’t make dinner. I got held up at work.

Jules:

Caught up with work, or caught up on top of #hotboss?

Mum:

What? Jules, not everybody thinks with their bodily needs.

I smile. If anyone could find a way to call someone a hussy and make it sound classy, it’s my mum. She basically just called Jules out for being ‘free’ with her vagina.

Me:

Thanks, Mum. I’ll see you both later.

Jules:

If you saw the #hotboss, Mum, you’d be wanting to think with your body too.

Me:

OMG! Jules, stop. Now I’m going to have nightmares.

Mum:

I don’t know where I went wrong with you, Jules.

I drop my phone into my bag. That conversation could go on forever if I continue to engage. Then I kick off my shoes. As great as those heels look, they bloody hurt like hell. I’ve been waiting all day for the relief. Except it’s only going to hurt worse when I have to shove my feet back into them. I need to remember to pack a pair of sensible shoes. Now that I’m going to have my own office, I can keep things like that in there. Most importantly, I can lock myself away from the temptation of my boss.

Twenty minutes later, Nathan returns. “You waited?” He looks surprised.

“I want to see this office. Get a head start for Monday.” I stand and pick up my bag and shoes. I’m not putting my feet back into them yet.

Nathan looks down at my bare feet. An odd look crosses his face. Please don’t tell me the man has a foot fetish. I can’t deal with that. It would be a major turn-off for me. The idea of someone sucking on my toes is just a big, fat no . Not for me. I’m not kink shaming. If that’s your thing, then that’s fine. It’s just not mine. That being said, if it’s Nathan’s thing, maybe it would cure me of this insane crush I have on the man.

“Do you have a foot fetish?” I ask.

His head snaps up, and that icy gaze connects with mine. “I have many fetishes. Feet are not one of them. Come on.” He turns around.

I follow him through the offices. It appears mine is on the opposite side of the hall. I’ve walked past this door a bazillion times this week, except it didn’t have my name on it like it does now. Bentley Johnson. In gold cursive lettering on a black plaque sits in the centre of the door.

I pull my phone out and snap a photo. Nathan smiles at me. “You ready?”

“I’ve been ready since Monday,” I say. I wait for him to unlock the door. He opens it, holding an arm out and motioning for me to walk inside. It’s small, a quarter of the size of his office. But I’m a first-year associate. It’s more than what I expected. Honestly, I thought I’d be stuck in a cubicle somewhere. “Oh my god! I can’t believe it. This is mine?” I point to my chest.

“Pretty sure that’s your name on the front,” he says, crossing the threshold and closing the door.

I’m suddenly aware of his proximity in an enclosed space. Is it hot in here? Shit, I should leave. I know I should make a hasty escape. Even as I watch him take very slow, very measured steps towards me, I know I should leave. That look in his eyes… It’s not professional. The way my heart is beating erratically in my chest. Even less so.

“What are you doing?” My question is barely a whisper as he stops right in front of me.

“What I’ve been dying to do since fucking Monday,” he says.

“What’s that?” I have to tilt my head up to look at him.

“This.” Both of his hands reach out and cup my cheeks. “It’s past six. It’s officially the weekend. You’re off the clock, which means… I can do this.” His lips crash onto mine. My body involuntarily leans into him and my arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer. All while my mind is yelling ‘traitor’ at me.

The minute his lips touched mine, there’s no resistance. Not from my body anyway. His tongue slips between my lips, and my mouth opens willingly, greedily. My moan is followed by a guttural growl from Nathan.

I need more. I want more.

Like he has access to my thoughts, Nathan picks me up by the hips and sits me on the desk. His hands grasp my blouse, and before I can protest, buttons are flying across the room as he splits the fabric open.

“These tits of yours, fuck me. Glorious.” He stares down at my heaving chest. His fingers unhook the clasp in the middle of my bra, pushing the straps down my shoulders. Nathan takes my breasts in his hands, his fingertips tweaking my already-hard nipples. “I need a taste,” he says, dipping his head.

My back arches, and my hands land behind me on the desk as his mouth closes over one of my peaks. “Oh god!”

His tongue circles around my nipple, his teeth grazing ever so lightly. The sensations travel directly to my core, igniting me in the best way. His free hand pulls and twists my other nipple. It’s too much. It feels like I’m going to explode. Moving his mouth across my chest, he switches up, lavishing this one with just as much attention as the last.

“Fucking amazing,” he says around a mouthful of my breast, his eyes glancing upward and locking on mine.

His lips begin to descend as he takes his time, licking, biting, sucking the exposed skin on my stomach. Then he drops to his knees, his face front and centre with my pussy. His hands land on my inner thighs and he pushes my legs open wider. When the tightness of my skirt restricts my movement, he grunts and reaches behind me. I watch in horror as he brandishes a pair of scissors.

“Ah, hell no!” I scream. “You are not cutting this skirt.” I shove at his shoulders, causing him to sit back on his haunches. It gives me enough space to stand. Unzipping my skirt, I slide the material down my legs along with my panties. I shrug off the ruined fabric of my blouse, then do the same with my bra, before I sit myself back on the desk, exactly where I was. Opening my legs as wide as they will go, I gesture for Nathan to continue.

“Fuck me. So fucking hot.” Dropping the scissors, he picks up where he left off. “I’ve been dying to get a taste of you, Bentley. Fucking craving it.” His fingers caress my inner thighs as he stares at my pussy.

His gaze alone sends little bolts of pleasure right through me. “Well, are you going to just look at it, or are you going to taste it?” I ask him, shocking myself. I have no idea where this confidence is coming from.

Maybe it’s my need to have him, my need for another one of those amazing orgasms I know he can give me. Whatever it is, I just know I want nothing more in life right now than to have his mouth on me.

“You see, the problem is… if I taste it, I’m going to like it. And if I like it, one meal won’t be enough.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, his tongue slides between my wet folds.

“Fuck!” My head lolls backwards when he circles my clit before he quickly pulls away. I open my eyes and stare down at him. I’m about to ask him why he stopped when he halts my words with his own.

“Eyes on me, baby girl. I want you to see what I’m doing to you. What I’m giving you.” His tongue slides up again, his mouth closing around my clit.

Ever had to work on keeping your eyes open when all you want to do is shut them? It’s not easy. I feel his fingers enter me as they curl up and rub on that little hidden spot he found the other night. “Oh god!” I scream. My hands tangle into his hair as my hips start moving, and I grind myself against his mouth.

When he growls, I feel the vibrations run right through me. His eyes are darkened, hungry, lust reflected in them. I can feel myself climbing. I’m so close to the edge my legs are shaking. When I feel one of his fingers slide underneath me, poking at my rear hole, I lose it. I don’t know if I’m screaming his name. I do know I’m screaming something, but whatever’s coming out of my mouth, I can’t be held responsible for it.