Meeting Munroe

by Danelle Nelson

  “Sorry about that,” Tim said, breaking my thought process, “I needed to send that email off. How was your first day, Ms. Fox?”

  “Good, really good,” I shook my head, “Vicki is awesome.”

  “Yeah, she is. I’m glad things are going well,” he stood, walking around the desk and sitting directly in front of me. “Do you have any questions or concerns for me?”

  “We never spoke of pay, Mr. Munroe,” I pointed out. I’d meant to ask this morning, but I got busy with the spreadsheets.

  “Right,” he reached back, grabbing a document printed on fancy Munroe Enterprises letterhead and handing it to me. “That’s the salary package we offer our administrative staff. If it looks good to you, please sign the bottom,” he also handed me a pen.

  “There’s a non-disclosure clause in this,” I mumbled as I read over the document.

  “We like to keep our business operations under wraps, Ms. Fox,” Tim replied, “It’s like every other disclosure you’ll find in the business world, especially when dealing with a large, successful company.”

  I peered up from the paper and locked eyes with him, “Understood.” I looked back down at the document and continued reading. It was all non-disclosure and company policy, but the salary made me stop, “Administrative assistants shall receive one-hundred thousand dollars per calendar year,” I exclaimed.

  “It’s a decent number, especially here in New York. If you believe you deserve more, it’s something we’d need to sit down and discuss with HR,” his foot tapped wildly on the floor below, the leather dress shoes causing a barely audible thump.

  I watched in fascination, the rhythmic tapping putting me into a slight hypnosis, “No..." I replied rather slowly, "The pay is amazing, I’m not complaining. If anything, I’d like to point out that you’re overpaying for this position, but to each their own.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Ms. Fox,” he laughed, “If you don’t have any more questions, please sign the document so that we can go home.”

  “Oh, right,” I signed it quickly, handing it back to him, “Thanks again for this opportunity, Mr. Munroe, I look forward to working with you.”

  “Back at you,” he replied, while setting the piece of paper onto the desk. “Have a wonderful night, Mrs. Fox.”

  “You too, Mr. Munroe,” I stood, making my way to the breakroom to grab my belongings. Small purse in hand, I made my way to the elevators. I was going to like this place. Hell, no one could make me leave with that salary.

  As the elevator doors closed, Timothy stuck his hand into the door frame, allowing him to join me on the ride down. He stood beside me, our bodies almost touching. The new electric current was back, and more alive than ever. “You know, you can call me Tim,” he said, turning to me.

  “I know, it just feels weird, I guess,” I bit my lip out of nervousness. His eyes transfixed on my mouth. I wanted to pounce on him, claim him as my own, but thought it better if I didn’t. One failed kiss was enough rejection.

  The elevator dinged, announcing our arrival at the lobby and causing us to break our gaze. "Have a wonderful night," Tim said, while ushering me out of the elevator. His hand rested on the small of my back, causing me to lean into it a little more than I should have. He didn't flinch, nor did he remove it. Instead, he guided me to the revolving door of the building, pushing me out into the open before giving me a grand smile. I stumbled onto the sidewalk, where I stopped to catch my breath. This man made me lose all sense, without even trying. I stood, paralyzed by the heat between us, and watched him as he walked to the sleek black SUV that was sitting on the curb. After he got in I walked home in a daze, my mind rhythmically going over the last part of my day.

  Fifteen-minutes later I was walking through the door of our apartment, where I came face to face with Nate. He was sitting on the couch with Anastasia. The two turned towards me as I walked into the living room, “How was your day?” Nate asked.

  “Good,” I slung my purse onto the breakfast bar, “I lost track of time, but it was great. I didn’t realize how much I missed having something to do.”

  “Did you work with Mr. Munroe at all?” Anastasia asked, her eyes shimmering at the mention of his name.

  “I didn’t, no,” I replied, shrugging. I walked over to the couch and sat next to Nate, “How was work?”

  “Baby-cakes, you know work was good. We aren’t sitting here to talk about me though,” he scoffed.

  His attitude caused me to laugh, and I stood, “Alright, Mr. Priss, I’ll be going to bed now. You two have a safe night, you hear?” I winked, before walking down the hallway towards my room.

  “Lameo, it's only seven!” Nate called out as I was shutting my bedroom door. While I wanted to talk with him, I didn’t want to share the experience of my day with Anastasia. Nothing exciting happened, I just didn’t quite get along with her the way Nate expected me to. I crawled into my bed, getting as far under the covers as possible. Just as I pulled the blanket over my head, my phone dinged.

  “What in the,” I flipped the covers back, looking at my nightstand. I hadn’t paid my bill, not yet.

  “Hope you made it home safely,” a text read from an unknown number.

  “Who’s this?” I replied quickly.

  “Tim,” holy shit.

  “Did you pay my phone bill,” I hesitantly replied.

  “I wanted you to have a way to contact someone should you need,” he responded quickly. I set my phone down on the nightstand, staring blankly at the texts. He’d crossed a boundary; I hadn’t asked him to pay my bill, nor did I ever express the need for him to help me. I felt like he was using his power as a self-righteous prick to do as he pleased. Instead of replying, I read a book before I went to sleep, allowing my anger to disappear at least until the morning, when I could confront him face to face.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I walked off the elevator and into the office the next morning ready for a cock fight. The anger within me had been boiling since the night before, fueled by fire when I re-read the texts this morning. Vicki sat at the front desk, her eyebrows shooting up in question as I stormed past the desk and into the break room. I placed my things in my locker before making my way back to Tim’s office, “He’s rather busy this morning,” Vicki tried to interrupt. I ignored her, walking into the office with purpose.

  “Good morning,” I stated, looking Tim square in the eye. He peered at me from behind his desk, a look of confusion and annoyance on his face. “You had no right paying my cellphone bill,” I started, my arms crossed.

  “I was only trying to help,” he stood, walking around the desk towards me.

  “It was rude, and an invasion of my privacy. If I had needed someone to pay it, it would’ve been paid.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Fox, I didn’t mean to offend you. I simply wanted you to have a way to contact someone should you need it. The streets of New York are no joking matter,” he pointed out.

  “Alright, dad,” I sneered, “Please don’t breach my trust like that again, it’s not something I will tolerate,” I finished.

  "I understand, my apologies again," he stood, staring at me momentarily before continuing, “Will you join me for a luncheon this afternoon?” His question threw me off guard, and I stood there, mouth wide open, “Ms. Fox?”

  “A luncheon?” I questioned.

  “It’s a fundraiser for the local fire department, I was invited and forgot I’d accepted. Be my guest?”

  “Is this for work?” I raised an eyebrow; this man was confusing.

  “No, it isn’t,” he replied rather bashfully, “I’d be honored though if you joined me.”

  “Alright,” I said slowly, “I’ll just be out at the desk, when you’re ready.” I walked towards the double doors, turning back momentarily to find Tim watching me leave, “Is there anything else, Sir?”

  “That will be all, Ms. Fox,” he replied.

  I made my way out to my spot behind the receptionist desk, sitting down and logging in. I�
�d been so upset about the cellphone bill that I’d forgotten to clock in this morning. Vickie stared at me wide eyed, “How’s your morning.” I asked her, pulling her from her gaze.

  “Interesting to say the least," she replied, "I've never seen someone address Mr. Munroe in that fashion," her voice was devious, she wanted me to tell her what was going on.

  "He paid my phone bill last night, which was upsetting and a rather large breach in privacy," I stated.

  Her eyes widened, "You've got to be kidding me," she blurted out, "I've never seen him do that for anyone."

  "Well it wasn't welcome," I said angrily.

  "Oh, no, I agree. I've just never seen him care enough," she finished.

  "You take that as caring? I find it rather imposing," I replied.

  "Mr. Munroe does things differently than most men," she started, "I've been here ten years, and while he does kind acts, he never steps over boundaries. For him to do so, it was for a reason," she raised her eyebrows.

  "What are we working on this morning," I questioned, changing the subject.

  "Right," she sighed, "Mr. Munroe needs a speech prepared for a firefighter luncheon he's attending today. I've got the jist of it, just need you to read over and edit some if you don't mind."

  "Alright," I replied.

  "Emails sent," she mumbled, “That dress is killer, girl, by the way,” she finished, as she turned back to her computer screen, leaving me to my own devices. I’d picked a maroon thigh high dress, one of the nicer pieces in my wardrobe. It had a rose gold zipper that zipped up the back, with partial sleeves. It screamed sexy, yet sophisticated. I’d purchased it while I attended Harvard, for business meetings.

  The morning passed by uneventfully as I finished editing Tim’s speech at ten. The rush of work that I'd completed the day before barely present. It felt like I was being paid to sit and look pretty, except without an audience. At exactly noon Tim walked out of his office, strolling up to our desk, "Good afternoon, ladies," he said, smiling.

  Vicki's eyebrows raised, but she responded, "Good afternoon, sir."

  "Hey," I said, rather short.

  "Are you ready?" He questioned.

  Vicki turned to me rather quickly, and I tried my hardest to hide a small smile, "Yes," I replied, standing.

  "We'll be back after the lunch, Vicki," Tim said, while placing his hand on the small of my back and leading me towards the elevator. I hadn't the nerve to look back at her and instead stood staring at the doors, waiting for them to open. "You look beautiful today," Tim whispered into my ear.

  His hot breath on my neck caused my nipples to contract, sending a tingling sensation down the whole of my body. The door opened and I walked inside. "Mr. Munroe," I began, "Tim, I feel like we're crossing a bridge that we shouldn't," the door to the elevator closed and we started our descent. Instead of answering Tim pushed the stop button, causing the elevator to abruptly halt. He pushed me suddenly against the wall and passionately kissed me, his hands roaming up my body, grabbing and gripping with intense need. Unable to resist, I kissed him in return, our tongues massaging and taunting. I reached my hands behind him, grabbing his ass and pulling him into me. Before I knew it my legs were around his waist, his own hands supporting my weight. Realization of what was happening sank in, and I pulled away, "Stop," I panted.

  His forehead rested on my own, allowing our eyes to lock, "Are you okay?" He questioned.

  "We can't do this, you're my boss," I started. He set me down and backed up momentarily. “I don’t even know you, really.”

  "I'm sorry," he said, before pressing the stop button once more. The elevator sprang into action, causing me to reach out for support. My hand caught Tim's, steading me. He gave me a show stopping smile before pulling it away. The elevator dinged, announcing our arrival to the lobby. The doors opened, and he ushered me out, his hand once more placed on the small of my back. My mind was running wild, my emotions insane. We'd went from me yelling at him about boundaries, to making out in an elevator in a matter of half a day. The thought of it all was causing my head to spin. While my mind raced, Tim lead me out of the elevator, through the lobby, and into a limousine that was sitting on the curb outside. "Ms. Fox," he said, holding the door open.

  "Thanks," I replied absentmindedly, while getting inside. The inside of the limousine was exquisite, its soft black leather meeting my exposed thighs. Tim joined me a moment later, privacy around us once more. "I'm sorry, but you're seriously confusing." I blurted out.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, when I tried to kiss you at the club you turned me down, but just now you jump on me in an elevator. Don't get me wrong, I want you, bad, but I can't do these mind games."

  He leaned forward and grabbed a bottle of champagne, popping it open and pouring two glasses, "Here," he said, handing me one. He took a large sip from his, "The night at the club," he started, "I turned away because I have rules. Never get involved with someone who works for me. There's something about the energy between us though, Ms. Fox, that I can't ignore. I've never felt anything like it."

  I bit my lip, trying to hide my emotions, "I feel it too," I whispered. As much as I wanted to deny it, I couldn't. This man drove me insane.

  "I haven't been able to get you off my mind since the day of your interview," he finally finished. The limousine cruised slowly down 1st avenue, towards business boulevard. We had twenty minutes, at the most, to see where this could go. I couldn't help it any longer and pounced on him. I kissed him, hard, his hands resting lightly on my thighs. The energy between us quickly heating. I used my hand to pull my dress around my waist before reaching down and undoing his belt. I exposed him, his hard manhood pulsating against my thigh. My body quivered in response, the amount of passion between us making the wait unbearable. He breathed heavily on my neck, "I need you, Vanessa," he whispered into my ear.

  I nodded, “Do you have a condom?” He pulled one from his suit pocket and placing it over his throbbing manhood. I pulled my panties out of the way and slowly sat, his throbbing cock filling me. I moaned out, throwing my head backwards, allowing him to fully enter.

  I slowly moved up and down, savoring the feel of him. My body quivered with need, my mind blank with pleasure. His scent drove into my nose each time I sat, rewarding me. "Please." I wanted a release. His hand found its way between our bodies, his thumb lightly rubbing on my clit. The sensation slowly driving me towards the edge, slowly building. My body wound like a clock, tighter and tighter, seeking release. His free hand slowly pulled the zipper of my dress down before pulling the shoulders forwards, exposing my breasts.

  His mouth closed onto my nipple, the warmth sending waves of pleasure inward. My entire body convulsed, the excitement and built up tension finally releasing. “Yes,” I moaned out, while my mind went blank.

  “I need you to cum for me again, Vanessa,” his voice rasped into my ear. I nodded in response, unable to verbally answer. He flipped me onto the floor of the limo, his body taking over and ramming into me. My hips gyrated into him, each thrust taking me closer to the edge, closer to another release. My clit ached with blood, my body not used to continuing so quickly after release.

  “Harder,” I mumbled, his body answering. He continued, harder and harder, ramping my body up and bringing me to the edge once more. “Yes,” I yelled, as my body convulsed over his.

  “Fuck,” he quivered as his body emptied. He laid on top of me for a moment before pulling away and sitting back onto the seat. I watched as he grabbed a napkin from below the champagne glasses, slowly removing the condom before cleaning himself and pulling his pants back up. He threw the rag at me rather indifferently, looking out the window. He’d pulled away quickly, his emotions hidden.

  Feeling rather used I wiped up, sitting beside him quietly. I had emotional whiplash. “Are we going to talk about this?” I finally whispered, the silence being too much for me to handle.

  “We’re here,” he replied, the limo coming to an abrupt halt outsid
e a large convention center. Before we could speak any further, the door opened, and Tim slid gracefully out. He stood there patiently, holding his hand out for me to grab. The cameras were flashing wildly about us, snapping away for the media. I hadn’t realized we’d be under such scrutiny, and immediately regretted every decision I’d made that day. “Let’s go inside,” Tim whispered, his hand falling to the small of my back as he guided me in the front of the building. The paparazzi yelled behind us, trying their hardest to find out who Mr. Untouchable had brought to the luncheon.

  The lobby to the convention center was decorated elegantly, flowers where strategically placed around the area, a large poster hanging before the entrance to the assembly area, showing a firefighter pulling a child out of a burning building. Under the picture read ‘Saving more than just buildings’. Tim ushered me into the assembly room, where at least a hundred tables sat scattered about a large podium. There was a man standing with a small tablet, which we walked over to, “Good afternoon, sir, ma’am, names?”

  “Timothy Munroe,” Tim answered rather emotionlessly.

  “Right, Mr. Munroe, glad to see you here today. You’re at table eleven, near the front,” the man replied, pointing towards the left.

  We were mid-center to the podium, Tim’s name sitting at the center of the round table, facing the stage. We took our seats, the tables around us almost filled already. Unable to keep my emotions at bay I decided it best to excuse myself to the restroom rather than have a meltdown in front of everyone. “I’ll be back,” I whispered, while standing. Tim nodded, not looking at me.

  I tried my hardest to keep the tears welling in my eyes at bay, keep them from running down my face until I was hidden behind a bathroom stall. I hurried back to the man who’d pointed us to our table, “Restrooms?”

  “To your left, ma’am, right outside these doors,” he replied.

  I made my way back into the lobby, taking my immediate left. I found the bathroom down a small hallway, hidden from view. I sat behind the bathroom stall, breathing as deeply as I could to stop the tears. I took my cellphone from my purse, texting Nate.