Page 4 of Playing with the Boss
TWO
Mason
She stood up there at the head of the table prattling off numbers, and all I could think was how those rose-red lips would look as they bobbed along the length of my dick. I’ve kept a strict no dating in the workplace rule, ever since my engagement blew up in my face two years ago, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have casual sex.
And boy oh boy, do I intend to have lots of casual sex with that girl. Lots of hard fucking, too.
My tongue tingles at the memory of her taste. I flew in a few days early with the intent of getting settled before I needed to focus my full attention on the restructure of the business. And after a three-hour flight delay and a wrong booking at the hotel, a night out seemed like an excellent way to unwind.
It was the merely the first place I came across after I headed out the hotel door and hooked left. But it was the best choice by far. There she’d been, playing coy at the bar with her friend. I can’t even remember why she said they were there—celebrating something. I was there to lighten the load between my legs, and she was there asking to be the one to give me that satisfaction.
I think she would have gone through with it, too, if it wasn’t for the sound of her friend vomiting in the stall two over that put an end to our evening rendezvous. I had my fingers buried in her sweet cunt, her throat in my hold as I brought her to the edge of orgasm. Another few minutes and I would have had those perfectly painted fingertips spread out on the walls of the stall while I gave it to her good and hard.
Instead, I was left with the task of having to do a walk of shame out of the ladies restroom; cock tucked into my waistband to hide my raging erection, while she attended to her friend. At least I had the sweet smell of her pussy on my fingers to ease the inconvenience.
“I’ve rallied up the finance team for tomorrow,” Alf warbles to my left as we stroll through the workplace.
I stare at the old guy, nodding in all the right places, yet in my mind, I’m fucking that Lisa girl in the stall every which way from Sunday. Doggy, face to face, one leg hooked around my waist as I drove my cock deep into her—
“Mason?”
“Sorry.” I jam my hands in pockets to hide my semi.
“I asked which team you’d like me to organize after you see finance.”
I drop the answer without a second thought. “Sales.”
“I’ll get onto that now.” He veers into his office, leaving me to scour the halls alone.
I find my way to payroll, and get to work. “How are we today?”
The middle-aged woman who I presume to be in charge peers over her glasses at me. “Fine.”
She probably would have been a fox in her day, but age hasn’t been kind to her. Shit. Maybe it’s the job here? Whatever the reason, I know her heart still beats red, the lust in her veins very real as she tries to covertly look at me out of the corner of her eye while she types.
“Can I help you with anything?”
I lean a hip into an empty desk near the door and cross my arms over my chest. Her eyes skim over the stretch of my jacket before she composes herself and swivels her chair to face me properly.
“I’d like to see staff turnover figures for the past year, and also a year-end report on employment agency costs.”
She frowns, lips pursed. “And you would be?”
“Mason Roberts, ma’am.”
Her face softens a little. No doubt the two of us have had email correspondence in the past, or possibly spoken on the phone. Clearly, she’s managed to connect my face to a name she knows.
“When would you require these by?”
I lay on the charm extra thick, ducking my head as though to act coy when all reality I peer out at the labels on the wall-to-wall filing cabinets. “Turnover figures by the end of the week, but if it’s not too much to ask, I’d like to see the year end sheet now.”
Her brow knits, yet one soft smile from my well-practiced lips and she sighs.
“I can dig that out from the hard copy stored down the hall. If you don’t mind waiting a few minutes, I can photocopy it for you. Or I could take it to wherever you’re working while you’re here?”
“I’ll wait.” I make a show of checking my watch. “I need to head out as soon as I have it.”
I can see the cogs work in her mind. Why would I need that particular sheet of figures, and why now? I can tell you why: because it gets her the hell out of this damn office.