Although I’ve assumed professional mode, my mind is working overtime, conjuring up all the other ways I want her body.
Bent over the desk, on the desk, pressed up against the glass and yes… she’s wearing heels.
“Joshua, Giselle is one of the brightest attorneys we’ve ever had I think you’d enjoy working with her. I’m sorry I can’t do it myself, but duty calls.” Dad eyes me with seriousness, but his face softens when he looks at her. “Giselle, my son is the next best thing to me. He’ll show you the ropes, and you’ll be in good hands. I’ll leave you two to get to know each other and discuss your plans. Let me know if either of you need anything.”
“Of course I say and he gives me that look of caution again.
I may act like I can deal with him and the way he’s arranged everything, but I know not to fuck with him. He’s serious. He’ll give Riley the opportunity to head the firm and I’ll just be here doing what I always do.
I love my job. That’s the reason I’m so good at it. But I want more.
Doesn’t mean I have to be a complete saint though in the process. How the fuck am I supposed to be the saint Dad wants me to be when I’ve already broken rule number one.
When Dad goes through the door, I return my attention to my little associate.
I didn’t just have sex with her one time; it was six and the seventh time would have been on the way if sleep didn’t take me.
The fact that I woke up with my cock hard as fuck, wanting more, showed just how much she interested me.
And she still does.
“I… didn’t know… who you were,” she stutters.
My gaze drops to the gentle rise and fall of her chest and I can’t hide the hint of a smile that forces through when I recall how much fun I had last night playing with her tits.
I climb back up to her face and relish in the soft rose color that’s tickled her cheeks.
“That’s probably a good thing, might not have had the adventurous night we had if you did.” I grin.
We wouldn’t have… or rather she wouldn’t. I still would. Had I known who she was last night, there’s no fucking way I would have seen her and spent my night any other way.
The first thing to intrigue me would have been that my little junior associate who’s supposed to be Miss. Goodie Two’s from Stanford has the same taboo as fuck tastes as me. Even if it was her first time at The Dark Odyssey, she still went.
“Um… maybe,” she breathes, still looking me over. It’s shock that’s taken her. I can see it in her eyes. While she’s looking at me like she can’t believe it’s me I’m looking at her and I love that I got to see her in the sunlight.
The sunlight spilling through the floor to ceiling window picks out the different brown tones in her hair. Variant and soft around her angelic face.
This is a woman who’s angelic, Not Jennifer. Being the devil I am, I know, and I’m going to use it to my advantage.
“Maybe? So you’re not sure if you would have still slept with me as many times as you did if you knew I was your boss?”
She stares at me, and then she actually looks like she’s going to faint.
“Oh my God… um, I’m sorry I really didn’t know and the way I behaved last night was not a representation of me. I really want this job. I swear I’m good at what I do.” Her eyes widen even more than they are as she continues to freak out.
I’m sure she means she’s a good attorney, but I think she’s also good with other things too. Like using that mouth of hers. It fit perfectly around my cock several times last night and I can’t wait to be inside her again.
“Let me be the judge of that.” I flick the coin over and hold it up in front of her. The color drains from her face as she looks from it to me. “I think things have taken a very interesting turn, don’t you?”
I’m so bad. The sex club and the whole encounter from last night isn’t her. I watch and observe people very well. That’s what makes me so good at what I do. My expertise at the firm here involve intellectual property, criminal law, and mergers. I prefer the first two because they always, always involve some piece of shit who decides he wants to screw people over. Just from one look I can usually tell someone’s as guilty as fuck.
My analysis of Miss. Giselle St. John is that she’s the good girl with a wild side, and I want it.
She takes a step back and her pretty mouth parts, worrying itself as she tries to think up some answer to say to me.
“I don’t know.”
“You say that a lot. The thing is, I think you do know,” I counter. “I think you know exactly what you want. What I don’t know is why you don’t just tell me. Like I think you know you didn’t have to leave my bed this morning.”