The Boss Crush

My eyes lick his torso, tracing hard ridges and sharp angles. He crosses his legs with thick thighs, and his package bulges behind the tension of his pants.

“Well?” he asks, moving the pen around as he talks.

My eyes jump back to his. He smiles, letting that second of silence linger as if he’s reading my mind. Did he see me looking?

Tapping the pen against his palm, he dips his chin into his chest. “This is where you give me some sort of story, something at least mildly believable.”

Biting on my bottom lip, I fiddle with the strap on my purse. Come on brain! Get it together!

Lyle’s brows raise to his hair line as he tilts his ear in my direction. I’m stuck, unsure if the truth is more believable than a lie.

I can’t lie, I won’t. I’ll tell him the truth, and he’ll either believe me or he won’t.

It’s a risk I need to take. I’m already on their shit list for being late, I don’t want to cement myself there longer because I lie about why.

Believing me, well, that’s up to him.

“Actually, it was something pretty serious. I was on my way here when I came upon a kid who was lost. The poor thing was only seven, balling his eyes out on the sidewalk. So, I did what I thought I should do, I helped him. And because of that, I ended up late my first day.” Clapping my hands together, I smile through thin lips. “I’m really sorry for being late, but to be honest, if I had to do it again, I would.”

Splaying my arms open, I stand still. I’m not lying, I’m not making up some elaborate excuse to get a free pass. I give him exactly what he wants, the truth.

“Really?” he asks, so I shake my head with a closed smile on my lips. “Huh, well. . .” He opens his eyes wide, looking back over his shoulder. “Let me get you familiar with our systems. At least let’s get you doing some work to keep Sandy off your back for a bit.”

Lyle walks around to the other side of the desk, drops the pen into the cup, then lifts his eyes up to mine. I just smile awkwardly, moving my purse to the other shoulder.

He flicks his eyes down, then back up. It takes a second to register that he wants me to come over there.

“Oh, yes, of course,” I say, taking quick steps to his side.

He pulls out the chair, and fans out his arm. “Please,” he says with a tender smile.

Sitting my purse on the floor, I take the seat, and he helps push me in. Lyle grabs the mouse with his huge hand, clicking it to turn on the computer screen. He leans over, his shoulder almost brushing mine.

My heart skips inside my chest, lurching into my throat. I can smell his cologne, and it takes me back to the night of the party when we were seventeen. A flutter skirts through my belly, coalescing into a heat between my legs.

Shifting in my seat, the side of my arm brushes against his shirt. I can almost feel how strong his muscles are beneath his blue button-up. Thick, firm, hard as stone.

I thought he was a man back when we were in school, how fucking wrong was I?

Lyle is definitely a man now. No doubt about it.

With his dirty blond hair tousled on top, and his jaw clean shaven, that little dimple in the corner of his left cheek really stands out. He stands up briefly as he waits for the screen to load, and rolls up his sleeves. His chest flexes as he moves, making his abs ripple like waves in a pool.

I’m trying not to get flustered, but he’s making it really difficult. I don’t even know if he realizes. He’s too close. And he’s too hot. Too fucking hot.

Swallowing hard, I keep shifting my eyes around his body, trying to maintain some form of composure.

My mind can’t grasp any real thoughts. I’m not thinking about the job, or the way Sandy threatened to fire me. I’m not thinking about making a good impression, or how badly I want this job.

All I can think about is letting him have his way with me. Bending me over this desk, yanking my skirt up, and kicking my legs apart so he can fuck me.

I want to feel his strong hands grip my ass, using me any way he wants. I want to feel his lips on my neck, and his tongue slip up the center of my chest, circling each nipple and plucking them between his teeth.

These thoughts flood my body, allowing old, buried feelings to bubble up in my gut. My cheeks flush the closer he gets, my nipples pebble as my breathing intensifies, causing my breasts to scrape the inside of my bra.