Bang (Club Deep #3)

His laugh is almost a snort. “You have a poor way of showing how much you need this job. Anyone else in your shoes would have fought tooth and nail to perform without a single mistake.” I watch as he picks up a pencil and uses the eraser end to press buttons on his calculator. “Not looking at potential earnings loss, Vivian, you cost me over five hundred in lost wages and in travel expenses we paid for the client to come here. I can’t get those back. Someone else, probably anyone else, would work a lot harder to be worthy of being an employee here.”

The retort “I’m doing my best!” is on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t say it. I know better. I may have been doing the best I could today, but it’s not the sort of excellence he’s accustomed to from me and not what his father hired me to do, what he’s kept me on to do.

In an ideal situation, one where job security isn’t such a big deal, I would tell him what's wrong... why I'm so frazzled and making mistakes. But Kodiche could get any number of people to replace me. He wouldn't care that I need the money to help pay for medical bills. Everything I make eats up all but a fraction of my check each month. If I lose this job, I'm not the only one that suffers.

I fight down my pride. I hate begging, but if that’s what it will take to keep my job, I'll do it. “Please, Kodiche,” I start, hoping that using his first name will soften him.

Something, maybe the tone of my voice, breaks the icy wall between us. His glare, the one that had been full of restrained rage, is now thoughtful, measuring. His male associates would call him powerful, but the women in the office would go further; they'd gush about how sexy he is whenever there was a chance.

Between his dark eyes, chiseled jaw and broad shoulders that threaten to break his suits open, the man's a real treat to ogle in secret. When I first started working as his firm’s secretary, he consumed my dirty thoughts. He was already starting to take over for his father then, and I was trained on many of the tasks at the same time he was. They were just harmless fantasies; my boss has never been anything but professional and cold towards me.

“I need this job,” I repeat. “I’ll do anything to keep it. Please.” My fingers are white from pressure as I push down on his desk, leaning over it. “Please, Kodiche.”

His gaze turns curious. “You should really think about that before you make this offer, Vivian,” he whispers. There’s a warning rumble of a threat to his voice, and I don’t know what it means, but if there’s a chance to keep my job, I have to take it.

“I'm serious. I’ll do anything.”

His smirk is playful when it comes, and his lips shape the words carefully as he replies, “People better than you have begged much more elegantly.”

“I don’t . . . How can I prove that I deserve this job?” The way he's acting is creating goosebumps up my arms. I think it's nerves, but the longer I stand near him, watching his soft lips in their perfect smirk, the more I think the ripples in my belly are turning into something sinful. Is my boss actually flirting with me?

“Listen better; that’s a start.”

Oh, shit. He is flirting. I think over all his words, lingering on how he'd mentioned begging. He wants me to do it elegantly... and I can sense there's something growing between us in this moment. It's a dark tension that clenches at my heart; it makes my knees weak, and that makes what I do next more natural, though not at all easy.

Going around his desk, I drop down on my knees beside his chair. He's not facing me, which I'm grateful for. My face is already burning red, I don't need his open thighs level with my scrunched up mouth.

Hanging my head, I take a single, deep breath. He hasn't started laughing at me; that's how I know this is what he wants from me. “Please, Mr. Lamant. I'm begging you, let me keep my job.”

The squeak of his chair is my only warning before he spins to face me, his legs splayed out to either side. My eyes flick up; I’m inches away from the front of his pants. I don't know if it's worse to be staring at his hidden cock, or up at his mysterious expression.

I dare to look up, just once, because I need to know what he's thinking. But behind his richly dark eyes there's nothing but hunger. My boss is radiating with a wicked energy, like he's some ancient king ready to swoop down on me and take what he wants.