Lacey.
Panties.
My panties.
5. Posing For APlayboySpread . . .
I gasped and then slapped my hands over my mouth in utter gut-wrenching shock. I closed my eyes tightly, hoping that when I opened them again, my underwear would not be laying on my boss’s table.
I heard a small chuckle and opened my eyes again. He was wearing his backseat look now. His eyes were doing that intense staring thing that had the power to make you feel completely naked. His lips were slightly parted and he was running his hand through his hair like he was posing for aPlaygirlspread.
Then the words poured out . . .
“I . . . I . . . can explain. I mean . . . I . . . I’ve never done that before . . . seriously. It wasn’t really me . . .well, it was me, but it wasn’t in a way. Someone else dressed me, I don’t even dress like that, so you can’t blame me . . . therealme anyway. Shit. I didn’t know who you were; I swear I had no idea that you were my boss. I’m not the kind of girl to sleep with my boss so I can get ahead or anything like that, if that’s what you’re thinking. If I had known, I would never have done it. Not that Ieverdo that! Ever. Please don’t tell anyone. Please don’t tell . . .” And then I caught myself and stuck my finger out at him accusingly, “Hey, it was sort of your fault too anyway; you plied me with vodka cocktails all night and—”
He cut me off with a laugh. “Well, I hope it wasn’tonlythe cocktails that made you do it. I wouldn’t want it to be like that next time.”
“What!” I half shouted. “Next time? Seriously?” I couldn’t believe the audacity of this man and it made me instantly angry. “Firstly—” I was fuming now. “Firstly, Mr. Pervert, there will be no next time and secondly, this is sexual harassment. I could report you for this, you know. Sexual harassment in the work place is a very serious crime. And don’t think I won’t . . .Jesus.” I slapped my hand over my mouth again and bit down on my lip. “I’m threatening my boss. First I sleep with him and then I threaten him . . .” I sat back down in the chair. I needed to, it felt like my legs were going to give way under me. I slumped down and put my head in my hands.
“It’s fine. You can fire me if you want. I’m okay with it. It’s okay . . .” I placed my hand over the envelope and slowly slid it toward me, then quickly shoved it into my jacket pocket. I wanted the floor to swallow me up and never spit me out again. My head was still down when I heard him laugh again. “Fine. Fine,” I said, “Laugh at me, too. Whatever. Ha, ha, ha.”
His laughing stopped. “No one is getting fired,” he said. He sounded calm. I looked up at him and noted that his demeanor changed to something that was completely businesslike. This waylaid my fears a bit.
“Really?” I asked, just to be sure.
“Sera, I’m not going to fire you.”
“Thanks.” I said faintly. “How did you even recognize me anyway?”
He leaned across the desk, coming in as close as possible. “I could never, ever, forget a face like yours.”
I shivered. Goosebumps ran up and down my spine and my skin pebbled instantly. I had to get out of there, before some uncontrollable force threw me onto his large,oh-so-largeand hard and perfectly shaped and . . . I shot out of my chair at the thought of it. Then I straightened myself and tried to look as dignified as possible.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Ben Black, and I look forward to a good PROFESSIONAL working relationship where we can become great COLLEAGUES and CO-WORKERS.” I shouted the words.
“Ben White.” He stood up and walked around his desk toward me. “White.”
“Doubtful,” I half muttered under my breath.
“I can show you my ID book if you like?” He continued his approach.
“No, no. That won’t be necessary.” My breath quickened and I took a step back as he suddenly extended his hand. I looked at it in horror, as the various body parts that had come into contact with that hand began to tingle . . . especially my breasts. I quickly folded my arms across them.
“Can’t we at least shake hands?” he asked, taking a step closer and looking at my folded arms.
“Sure. Okay.” I reached out tentatively and took his hand, but as I did, something incredible happened—you know how psychics have those clairvoyant flashes and visions when they touch something significant? The necklace of a deceased person, or a missing child’s toy?Well, it was like that.
Vivid, colorful visions of the two of us flashed through my mind. He was pulling off my panties with his teeth. He was running his tongue over my breasts. I was ripping the buttons off his shirt and unzipping his jeans with manic vigor. I pulled my hand away as quickly as possible and looked up at him. He had that look in his eye again, that look he’d had just before he’d kissed me for the first time in the club. He bit his lip and leaned in. Oh my God, was he going to kiss me? I couldn’t let that happen.
“I . . . I . . . I’m going now.” I leapt at the door and turned the handle, but it was locked. I jiggled it around a few times in a frenzied panic.He locked me in his office!The sick twisted pervert had deliberately called my name out last so he could get me alone in his office after everyone had gone home. My heart started beating fast and that primal fight-or-flight instinct took over.
“Let me out! Let me out,now.What were you hoping for? To have me on your desk?! Let me out—”
He cut me off by reaching out and putting his hand over mine. He turned the handle in the opposite direction and the door popped open, much to my relief and surprise . . . and utter embarrassment.
“You were turning it the wrong way.”
“Oh,” I managed pathetically. I looked at the floor quickly and didn’t say a word as I exited.
