by Mac Flynn
I shook my head and still refused to meet his eyes. "I don't have a boyfriend."
"Really?" His voice sounded almost eager to my ears, or maybe my ears were eager to hear that tone in his voice. "No husband or boyfriend?"
"No, sir," I replied.
I heard his chair squeak, and I dared a glance up. He stood by his desk, and I watched him walk around and seat himself on the corner close beside me. His playful eyes looked into mine and his sly smile increased my lustful agony ten-fold. He lowered his voice so it was a soft, seductive whisper. "That sounds very enticing. You see, the position needs to be filled with someone who is willing to work nights and the occasional weekend. We wouldn't want outside distractions keeping her from duties to the company, and to myself."
Oh god. My body was on fire. All I could see, all I knew, was his wonderful eyes staring at me with lust in their depths. I wanted to fall into that heated gaze, fall forever and ever until it consumed my body and soul. His lips tempted me. I leaned towards him. Just a little kiss, a little taste of the lust in his voice. My body pleaded, nay, demanded I submit to him.
"Did you have any questions?"
His normal, louder voice snapped me out of my passion. I jerked back and fluttered my eyelids at him. "Huh?"
"I said did you have any questions about the responsibilities the job entails?" he repeated.
"Oh, um, no, I guess not. It's all-um, listed in the application. I think." I actually wasn't doing much of that at the moment.
A smile broke out on his face and he chuckled. He stood and gestured to the doors behind me. "I see. Well, if we choose you for the final round of interviews I'll have my secretary call you."
I stood and my jello legs wobbled after him to the entrance. "S-sure. I look forward to seeing you-hearing from you," I caught myself.
Strong opened one of the doors and led me into the small secretary area. "Have a nice night."
3
"T-thanks," I stuttered as I stumbled past him and down the hall.
I wasn't so dazed that I didn't catch the look of ire from Vitra. She could have melted steel with that ugly expression, so thankfully I wasn't steel. Her melting, scathing look only bounced off my flab and fell harmlessly to the floor. I walked to the elevator and stumbled inside. My finger pressed the button for the first floor and I'd gone down twenty floors before I remembered I needed to stay for work. I pressed the large 'B' and down I went into the bowels of the building.
I stepped off the elevator and moved to my room. Something made me pause in front of the entrance. The door was ajar again. My sweet thoughts were swept away and replaced with foreboding. This was getting creepy. I stooped and examined the lock. No sign of forced entrance. Whoever did it had a key, or some experience at picking locks. I stood and frowned. My eyes were ever on the crack between the door and the frame.
I shrugged and pushed open the door. It swung back and revealed my desk, cart, chair, and a large bouquet of roses. Nothing unusual there-wait a minute. Roses? I stepped inside and squinted at the tall, ceramic vase as though I expected it to vanish like any other mirage. It stayed put, but my imagination ran off with me. I had a secret admirer, I was sure of it. He was surely a handsome devil. Anybody who fell in love with me would have to be. Oh, and rich. He had to be that. It was the only way I could live the care-free lifestyle that fit the dreams in my imagination.
I paused, frowned, and glanced down at me. There was still the same pudgy me beneath my neck which meant whoever sent me these gorgeous flowers wasn't gorgeous himself. "You're always such a downer. . ." I muttered to myself as I stepped over to my gift.
There must have been three dozen in that large vase. I gave the roses a deep smell. Beautiful, and judging by their scent they were freshly delivered. I looked around for a card and spotted a white envelope on the desk beside the vase. I picked up the slip and turned it over. Nothing written on the front or back. I cracked open the seal and pulled out a small card with roses on the cover. I opened the card and gasped when out slipped a hundred dollar bill. My hands fumbled for the bill before I grasped it tight in one fist.
I opened my fist and inspected the bill. It looked genuine. I held it up to the single bulb. Transparent and with signs of security tapes and such. Yep, it was the genuine thing.
The money wasn't the only surprise. On the inside of the card was a note written in cursive. My cursive reading was a little rusty so I read it aloud. "For your secretary's suit, and a little something to enjoy." It wasn't signed.
"Sounds like ya got yerself a new job," a voice behind me commented. I yelped and spun around to find Tom leaning against the doorway with a wide grin on his face.
"Don't you know it's not nice to sneak up on fat people? You could give them a heart attack!" I scolded him as I hid the envelope, money and card behind my back.
He tilted his head to look past me. "Looks like you survived that surprise pretty well."
I blushed and stepped in his line of sight. "I-it's nothing, just a-um, a present from an old friend."
He chuckled and pushed off from the door frame. "Do all yer old friend's spoil you like that?"
"Um, we were really good friends, now don't we have a job to do?" I reminded him as I grabbed my cart. I wheeled it into the doorway and pushed him and it out into the hallway. I shut the door firmly behind me and smiled at Tom. "Don't want to keep those trash cans waiting."
Tom stepped in front of the cart and blocked me from sprinting down the hall. His wrinkled old lips creased upward in a grin. "Yer looking mighty red. Sure you're feeling well?"
"Y-yeah, it's just the-um, the heat in the building. It's pretty bad," I told him.
His eyes twinkled, but he stepped aside. "I suppose it is. Well, let's get going to work. Those floors aren't going to clean themselves."
I often find myself drawn to talking with Tom during breaks and when we happened to meet on the same floor, but that night was different. I couldn't clear my thoughts and my reddened cheeks of the image of Strong seated in front of me. His heated eyes still tugged at my feminine desire to be taken into his powerful arms and seduced by his sweet whisperings.
"Damn it. . ." I mumbled as my body ached for his touch. I leaned against the wall of a hall and set the side of my forehead on the cool surface. A soft sigh escaped my parted lips. "Why'd you have to go and fall in love with a rich guy who barely knows you exist?"
"Ya doing okay there?" Tom asked me. I yelped and spun around to find the old coot standing with a vacuum in one hand and a frown on his lips. His eyes scrutinized me. I brushed out the non-existent creases on the front of my clothes and sheepishly smiled at him. "Y-yeah, I'm fine, why do you ask?"
"Because yer not fine. I've seen a lot of love-sick people in my days, but you've got to beat 'em all," he commented.
My shoulders slumped and I sighed. "That obvious?"
"As obvious as the nose on my face," he quipped.
I ran a hand through my hair and shook my head. "I just-well, I have this crush on a guy-"
"Alec Strong," he interjected.
I scowled at him. "Who's telling the sob story here?"
He held up his hands, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that vexed me. "All right, get to telling yer story."
"As I was saying, there's this guy, who shall remain unnamed, who I kind-of-sort-of-like."
Tom snorted. "Yer pining for him like a pine cone pines for the woods," he quipped.
"You're interrupting again."
"All right, all right, get on with it."
"It's just that-well, we live in different worlds and I'm-well, I'm this way." I gestured down to my wide-load of a body.
Tom followed my hands and raised an eyebrow. "Different worlds is one thing, but I'm not seeing yer problem there."
I rolled my eyes. "I'm fat, Tom. I'm fat and I'm ugly. No guy would want to go out with this because they'd need two cars to drive me around."
Tom shrugged. "He's rich."
"That's not the point!"
My old friend folded his arms across his chest and frowned at me. "I think what yer problem is isn't yer looks but in here." He tapped his temple. "Yer thinking too hard about what ya think he wants and not what he's been telling ya he wants. If he's the one who sent ya that gift tonight then I'd say he doesn't give a hang about how big ya are. Maybe he likes a little meat on his bones." He took on a faraway look in his eyes and rubbed his chin. "Never hurt not to be lying atop. I remember this one woman down in Tucson who was a might large than you, but she had a way with her that left nobody wanting. Always knew just where to-"
I cringed and held up a hand. "Tom?"
"Yeah?"
"Please don't traumatize me with exploits of your love-life."
He straightened and coughed into his hand. "Well, as I was saying, I think yer making a big deal out of nothing. Wait for a while. You'll see what he wants."
I sighed and shrugged. A small smile slipped onto my lips. "All right. I guess I can take the advice of a grizzled old janitor."
Tom firmly nodded his head. "Yep, and this grizzled old feller is telling you we'd better get back to work or we'll be called out for not getting this mess cleaned up." He turned away to walk down the hall.
I held my hand out to him. "Tom?"
He paused and looked over his shoulder. "Yeah?"
"Could I. . .would you mind if I cleaned the top floor tonight?"
A smile slipped onto his lips. "All right, but don't take all night. There's plenty more floors where that came from."
My face brightened and I gathered everything onto my cart. I sprinted up to him and pecked a kiss on his wrinkled cheek. "Thanks! You won't regret it!"
His eyes widened and he rubbed the spot where I'd given him my thanks. "I don't know about that, but ya better get working on that floor before I change my mind."
4
I rushed past him, into the elevator, and gave a wave before the doors closed. My heart beat with excitement as I thought about entering that office again, his office. I could touch and dust anything I wanted and take in the scent of him. My body ached to seat itself in his chair. I could imagine myself leaning back and closing my eyes, and I would be surrounded by him. The only bittersweet part of the dream was he wouldn't be there.
Right then, though, that was all I could ask for and all I needed. After a painfully slow climb the elevator reached the fortieth floor and I stepped out. I tapped down the Long Walk, ignoring all the other cubicles in need of cleaning, and arrived at the secretary desks. Vitra's desk seemed to glare at me, so I stuck my tongue at it. Beside the desk sat the waste basket and a mischievous idea came to mind. I picked up the basket and dumped the contents onto the top of the desk. The crumpled paper, wads of food wrappers, and a slob of gum made for a nice Post-Modern piece of art. I couldn't leave it there, but I could enjoy it until I finished with the rest of the floor. Then I'd do a half-hearted job of cleaning the mess up.
I turned my attention to the pair of doors in front of me. There was the entrance to heaven, the domain of the one I loved. I wheeled my cart over and tested the knobs. Unlocked which was a good thing because I'd forgotten to ask Tom for the keys to the room. I pushed open both doors and pushed my supplies into his domain.
My enraptured mind was slow to take in the warning signs in the room. There was a small, lit lamp on the desk, and the chair was turned so the back faced me. A tell-tale briefcase on the floor hinted that I wasn't alone. All of these were ignored by my mind that was so desperate to enjoy the presence of him. I closed the doors behind me and turned to the seat which was then the focus of my lustful mind's attention.
That's when I heard the shuffle of paper and the chair swiveled around to reveal Alec Strong himself. In his hands was a few sheets of paper, and on his face was a frown. "Tom, you know I don't like to be disturbed-" His eyes fell on me and he stopped swiveling. A sly smile replaced his frown. "Hello again."
I let out an eep and hit the wall. "M-Mr. Strong! I-I didn't know you were going to be in here! I-I can leave if you want me to!" I shoved my cart towards the door, but it caught on a rug on the floor.
"Wait a moment." I turned in time to see Strong stand from his chair. He gestured to the seat opposite him. "We have some business to discuss. Why not talk about it now?"
"B-business?" The only business my flirtatious mind could conjure up didn't involve paper, but it did involve a lot of pushing.
He held up a piece of paper in his hand, and I recognized the wrinkled remains of my resume. "Your application for the job."
"O-oh! That business! Um, shouldn't we deal with this tomorrow? I mean, I'm sure you're still looking through that big stack and-"
"No, I've finished. I was only looking through the finalists when you entered," he told me.
I blinked at him. "Does that mean that I'm-well, that I'm-"
He grinned. "A finalist? Yes, but I have some questions I want to ask. If you would just take a seat we can get started." I reluctantly left my cart and the wall, and slipped into the chair opposite him. He leaned over the desk and set my resume on the top between us. "As we discussed earlier, you don't have very many qualifications for the job."
My hands fidgeted in my lap. I wished to be any place other than here. My body still ached for him to touch me, to take me with all the ferocity of a lover. "Y-yes, sir."
"And you seem to have the position of janitor with the company," he continued. His cool, commanding voice excited my feminine instincts. They demanded I blurt out my true feelings and beg him to take me, to ravish me. I bit my lip and nodded. Strong stood and sauntered around to the desk where he leaned his cute rear against the front before me. I felt his eyes on me as he watched my every reaction. "What would you rather be doing? What are your goals?" he asked me. I shrugged. "Surely you have some dream," he persisted.
I swallowed some of my desire and dared to speak. "I-I don't really have any. I'd drop everything if I could get married, but-" My god, I was babbling my secret desires to my handsome boss.
"But what?" he asked me.
I cringed and gestured down at myself. "I don't really see that happening."
He inspected-dared I hope, admired-my physique. "I don't see any problem there." Out of the corners of my eyes I saw him tap a finger against his temple. "Maybe the problem is up there."
I snorted. "You sound just like Tom."
"Tom's got a lot of sense in his head, but I want to know more about you," he argued. He paused. "Your hands are shaking. Are you cold?"
I shook my head. "No, just-um, just a-um, an uncomfortable chair."
He gestured to the couch against the wall behind me and opposite my cart. "Why don't we have a seat on the couch. It's very comfortable."
My eyes widened and I whipped my head up. "No!" I yelped. He started back, but there was a teasing ghost of a smile on his lips. I cleared my throat and shook my head. "I mean, no, that's fine."
He chuckled. The sound rang through me like the din of wind chimes on a hot summer's day. "It won't hurt to sit there, I promise. Here, let me show you." Strong grabbed my arm and pulled me from the chair. He led me to the couch and seated us on neighboring cushions. "See? Isn't that comfortable?"
"Y-yeah, but I should really be going. Work to do and-" I tried to stand, but he grabbed my hand and gently set me back down on the cushion.
He looked into my eyes and I saw the same intensity as earlier. "We both know that's not what you want?"
"W-we do?" I squeaked.
His smile widened. "I have a confession to make. It wasn't by chance that you came upon the application, and I know who sent you those flowers tonight."
I furrowed my brow and studied his face. "It was. . .it was really you?"
He bowed his head. "Yes. I've been watching you for quite a while. You and Tom aren't the only ones with late hours." He reached over and cupped one of my cheeks in his firm palm. "You have no idea how beautiful you are. Your body, your mind, all of you drives me to distraction."
> His words tossed fuel on the fire of my lust. My body warmed with each soft whisper from his sweet lips. His heated eyes warmed me to the bone and ignited a desire neither of us could control, nor did we want to. Unfortunately, there was still so many divides, so many differences.
"M-Mr. Strong, I-I-" He leaned forward and captured my lips with his own.
I groaned as his tongue pushed into my mouth and fought with mine. His hands clutched my wide hips, and one dared slip beneath my shirt to fondle my breast. I gasped and pulled us apart. I looked into his eyes and saw a reflection of my own desires, my own need for a pleasure only he could appease.
His voice was a whisper filled with lust and cool, dominant demand. "My god, you're beautiful," he whispered.
He lunged at me like a wild animal and I fell back against the cushion beside me. His hands were everywhere over my body. He swept over my thighs and hips with the intensity and softness of a lover. His fingers toyed with my bra until it fell away, and then his hands captured my soft, luscious mounds in his grasp. He teased me, fondling and pushing my mounds together. I squirmed and encouraged him by pushing myself into his hold, into his power.
His lips were no idle. They blazed trails along my neck and collar. He pulled my shirt off me and paused. His eyes looked on my nakedness with such a burning desire that I was afraid I would be consumed by the heat. I tried to cover myself, but he pulled apart my hands. He leaned down and teasingly captured a bud between his lips. He suckled and pulled. I leaned my head back and bit my lip.
I whimpered when he pulled his soft, warm lips away. "I want to hear your moans," he growled.
My heart quickened and he returned to making love to my breasts. I moaned and squirmed beneath him. My thighs were soaked with my juices.. The ache between my legs begged to be satisfied. He knew it, and one of his hands reached down and unbuttoned my jeans. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband and touched the sensitive nub beneath the folds of skin. My eyes widened and I jumped into his fingers. He slipped a leg over mine to keep me down and began working his magic on the bundle of nerves between my legs. His finger slipped to and fro. Each stroke sent tingles of pleasure rippling through my body.
I couldn't take it any more. "Please," I pleaded.
