Dirty Laundry

by Lauren Landish

  Elena sticks her head in ten minutes after I finish, a folder in her hands. “Here’s the building inventory report Tom wanted to give you,” she says, setting it down on my desk.

  I glance at it, knowing I’ll need to read it over but not wanting to. It’s just not that important to me. “Thank you.”

  “Is there anything I can get for you, sir?”

  “Get me the Hendricks report and the projections for next quarter. I’d like to review those before lunch.”

  “Right away,” she says, walking briskly to the door.

  My next words fly from my lips before I can stop them. “Oh, and Elena? Send Miss Price in, if you would.”

  Once again, she looks at me with confusion in her eyes. Roxy is supposed to be an assistant but not my secretary. She’s not even high enough up the ladder to be talking with me at all. I can see Elena wonders what the hell I’m doing. But she doesn’t question me. “Of course, sir.”

  When she leaves, I sit back in my chair, inwardly shaking my head at myself.

  Was there any reason for that? I don’t need anything from her right now. But I can’t help myself. I just want to see her, hear her.

  Several minutes later, there’s a knock at the door, and I set down the pen that I’ve been spinning across my knuckles. I quickly adjust my tie and turn to my laptop, trying to look like I’ve been working and not daydreaming. “Come in.”

  The door opens, and Roxy walks in. I have a hard time keeping my jaw from dropping as she closes the door. She’s so beautiful dressed in her tight skirt and blue blouse, her curvaceous figure seeming to taunt me with the promise of paradise. Under my desk, my blood warms my crotch as I think of the things that I want to do to her. That I almost had.

  “You wanted me, sir?” she asks softly.

  Sir. All business now. None of that playful spark I’ve noticed since first meeting her. I see how it is. She’s trying to put a barrier between us by being professional. I don’t like it. I want her spread out on my desk, her legs wrapped around my hips as I fill her with my cock.

  “Sir?” she repeats when I don’t reply, breaking me out of my reverie. My cock is twitching in my pants, and I take a deep breath before replying.

  “Yeah. How’re things going?” Damn, I sound like a moron.

  “They’re going fine, sir.” She continues to hold her facade. But beneath, I can tell it's hard for her too. “Elena told me I had to get some projections ready, and I’ve already pulled the data. It’s printing now.”

  “That’s good,” I reply, still feeling like an idiot.

  “Is there anything else you need from me, sir?”

  Yeah, I need you in my lap with your tits in my face as you ride me in that skirt. It’s almost criminal the thoughts she invokes in me.

  I part my lips to tell her that I want to see her again. That the night before, she awakened a need in me that I haven’t felt for a long time. But then I think twice. “No, thank you. That is all.”

  She nods respectfully to me and turns away.

  “Roxy,” I call.

  She stops and turns, one graceful hand on the door handle, and the words dry up in my throat again.

  Tell me you want it, I think to myself. Tell me you want me to take you, bend you over my desk and fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. Her lips are parted, and I imagine her saying yes if I just say the words. “Enjoy your day.”

  Something flashes in her eyes, so fast that I can barely register it. “You too, sir.”

  Then she’s gone, the door closing softly behind her. I drop my head to the desk, thunking softly on my blotter, feeling a cauldron of emotions swirling in my gut. I know I shouldn’t be doing this. Maybe I should have her transferred to another floor so this doesn’t get out of hand. But when I think about actually doing it, I know I can't. Looking up as my email dings softly with another request from corporate, I realize one thing.

  “I’ve got to get myself under control,” I mutter.

  Over the next several days, I do my best to juggle work, overseeing the night club, and basically being both Mom and Dad for Sophie. During the work day, I spend my time concentrating on staying busy and settling into my new role of playing house-cleaner for the company, keeping thoughts of Roxy from my mind. I even use my lunch hours to use the in-building fitness center, hoping to bury my desire under a giant pile of sweaty tank tops and a couple of thousand pounds of iron.

  After work, I drop by the nightclub to check in with Nathan. So far, Mr. Creepy Bastard hasn’t popped back up, and Andre is itching to get his hands on him. Nathan, too, and I’m not sure which of them would be preferable.

  Even with all I’ve got going on, my thoughts constantly return to Roxy. I can’t help but wonder what she’s doing, if she’s thinking about me, and how I can spend more time with her. She’s a sweet distraction. Throughout the morning, I find myself looking at her through the big window of my office whenever she’s moving around the room.

  She’s bedeviling, that’s all there is to it. The sway of her hips as she walks, the way she parts those sweet, luscious lips . . . it’s maddening. My cock is begging to have them wrapped around it, sucking and licking till I explode down her throat.

  “Will that be all, sir?” Elena says, pulling me from my reverie. She's just finished giving me the files I asked for earlier, and I realize that it’s nearly lunch time.

  Thank God the weekend is finally here. I’m ready to relax and release some tension. I need something besides the constant distraction of Roxy.

  “That’s all. Any weekend plans, Elena?”

  She beams at me, backing up. “Nothing much, sir. I can say it’s been a good week with you here. I won’t have to drink half the amount I thought I’d have to.”

  I laugh, and this time, I don’t tell her to come back and call Roxy. I haven’t seen her all morning. But I’ve been trying to stay away, avoiding looking out my window on purpose. The sexual tension has grown so much between us you could cut it with a knife. People are going to notice if I keep it up.

  I go back to my laptop, looking at what I was supposed to be doing for the past hour, which is the damn manager evaluation report. It’s nothing formal. Corporate will grind through this for weeks before they do anything, but I still need to get my recommendations right. I start pounding away at my keyboard, knowing exactly who I want to get rid of, and just as I hit Send on the email, my cellphone buzzes. It’s Nathan. “What’s up, Nathan?”

  “Remember when I said we should have theme nights?” Nathan asks immediately, no ‘hi’ or ‘what’s up’. “Well, you know the bartender, Sarah? She thought it was a good idea to start a karaoke night. And I thought tonight would be a good time to do a sort of short test run. It’s Friday, and a lot of people will be here to test the reception. Hell, I might even get up there and make some bitches’ ears bleed.”

  I think, shaking my head. I’m really not sure about karaoke. But then it hits me . . . Roxy. I know I shouldn’t be thinking about seeing her, but a part of me knows that she needs this. “Let’s do it. Book it, Nathan. In fact, later tonight, let’s talk. Maybe we can do an open mic night or maybe a singing contest, find some local talent that’ll kick some ass.”

  “My fuckin’ man! I like the way you think,” Nathan says. “All right, I’ll book it and see if we can get some social media marketing going on. See you later.”

  I get up from my seat, putting my phone away. It’s near lunch time, and I see my workout bag sitting on my spare chair, ready for me, but first . . . I look through the glass into the main room. I don’t see her at her cubicle, which until now, I thought was cursed since I could see directly inside.

  I grab my bag and walk out into the main room, looking around. Finally, just as I’m about to give up and head downstairs, I see Hannah, her close friend, coming out of the bathroom.

  “Hello, boss,” Hannah says, all business when I walk up, though I see the mischievous spark in her eyes. I can see why she and Roxy are good frie
nds. There’s a lot of smarts in that wiseass look.

  “Have you seen Roxy?” I ask, trying my best to keep my voice neutral.

  Her eyes furtively flit back, and she looks me up and down but doesn’t push it. I wonder what secrets she’s hiding. I know they have probably talked about me. “She went down to the mail room to get something for Matt.”

  “Matt?”

  “Yeah, you know . . .” she says before pointing. “The guy that works over there.”

  I look over, seeing whom she’s talking about. I’ve seen him around. He’s got a smug countenance that puts me off. “And does Roxy report to him?”

  “No, just—”

  “Then that’s going to have to stop. Matt can get his own stuff, don’t you think?” I ask, glancing back at Hannah.

  Hannah nods, smiling a little. “That’s what I always say, but he tries to use his seniority to get her.”

  ‘What’s his position?” I ask. “I don’t know the full chain around here just yet.”

  “I honestly have no idea. He’s Byron’s buddy, that’s all I know,” Hannah says.

  I’m going to have a talk with Matt, I think inwardly while shrugging. “Thanks. You have yourself a good weekend,” I say, holding back my grin. If things go right, I’ll probably be seeing her tonight if I can convince Roxy to come to the club.

  “You too, Mr. Stone.”

  I leave and take the elevator to the second floor, where I see the signs for the mail room. I don’t see her when I go in, and I wonder for a moment if Hannah’s lied to me. But then I see her, down the hall with a stack of papers in hand. I pick up my speed and catch her just before the elevator doors close.

  I stick my foot in the doors before it can close completely and step inside. Roxy’s lips part in surprise when she sees me, and she practically stumbles back against the wall. “Mr. Stone,” she breathes. “What . . .?”

  I grin as I press the Close button, then the button for the fitness center. As soon as the doors meet, I turn and advance toward her, caging her in with one hand on either side of her. She shrinks further against the wall as nerves pulse from her in waves.

  Her perfume wafts to my nostrils. I love the fragrance, a serious yet still light tone. She even has sultry makeup to go with it. I can’t help it—being this close to her and looking into her beautiful eyes, my cock grows in my pants.

  “You’ve been avoiding me,” I say. “Why?”

  She ducks her head. “We agreed that we’d be professional.”

  “I didn’t agree to anything,” I counter. “You said we should be professional.” I know I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m her boss and I am dangerously over the line on sexual harassment if she wants to nail my ass. But I don’t think I can abide by the rules. “I don’t agree.”

  She’s panicked, her eyes darting back and forth as I move in closer, pressing my hard body against her, letting her feel me. All of me. “But, sir . . .”

  “Stop calling me sir,” I growl, staring into her eyes. “You’re too innocent for that . . . unless you want me to give you a reason to call me sir.”

  I tug on a wisp of her hair, moving my lips down to her neck, tasting her sweet skin again, my body throbbing with need. Usually, I can’t wait for the elevator to make it down to the gym, but this time, I reach over blindly, hitting the Stop button with my free hand, not caring about the dinging noise. “Oh, gawd,” Roxy groans, nearly melting into me as my lips trail her flesh. I can feel her heart pounding so hard in tandem with the blood pumping through my dick. “Yes . . .”

  My whole body screams for me to take her. Right here and now, to hell with the consequences. If we got caught, the whole world be damned. It’d be worth it. She’s worth it.

  I reach down, grabbing her ass and pulling her skirt up, squeezing her ass with my right hand as I nibble and suck on her lips, feeling her submit to my insane desire. And it is insane. Seeing an employee is one thing. But fucking her in the elevator is a good way to find myself fired.

  Still, I slide my knee between hers and spread her legs. She moans, grabbing my head and kissing me fiercely, gasping as the bulge of my cock in my pants rubs against the satiny slickness of her panty-covered pussy. “We can’t . . .”

  “We are,” I growl, staring in her eyes. “You wanted me . . . you got me, Angel.”

  I grind my cock against her, staring into Roxy’s eyes as her hips start taking over, riding the bulge of my cock. Even through the cloth, her pussy is white hot, and I thrust against her, dry humping her. Grinding against her, I can feel my cock throb, and I don’t care. I’m tempted to pull back, undo my pants, and bury myself inside her. Our tongues twist and taste each other as I pin her against the elevator wall, our bodies needing it.

  I can feel her start to tremble, shaking as I push her harder and faster, and I thrust harder, staring in her eyes as she digs her fingers into the back of my neck, moaning thickly. “Jake . . .”

  “Come for me, Angel,” I growl, grinding into her. It’s all she needs, and she bites her bottom lip, shaking and whining softly as she comes. “My turn.”

  I let her down to turn her around, pushing her lush body up against the wall of the elevator so I can free my cock. It’s throbbing, and I can feel the precum soaking my boxers. I need her so badly. “Bend over.”

  She does, and I realize I don’t have a condom, but I’m so fucking hard that I don’t care. I’m going to fuck her anyway. I almost do, but she’s saved by the phone ringing. Fucking cockblocking Building Security. I pick up the phone. “Is everything okay?” a voice asks.

  I step away from her, straightening my tie and fighting down my desire. My cock is raging hard in my pants, and I know that my underpants are ruined. Fuck it, I’m going to the gym anyway, and right now, I’ve got some extra motivation for my workout. “Yes, just a bit of nausea, thank you,” I say, hanging up the phone and starting the elevator again. I turn to Roxy, who’s still gasping. “Tonight is a special night at the club.” I omit telling her it’s karaoke night. “I expect you to be there. And wear something flashy.”

  Her eyes seem to scream, But what about our agreement? despite the fact that we almost just fucked in an elevator. The car reaches the gym level, and with a ding, the doors open. Finally, Roxy speaks up. “What time?”

  With one last look, I step out, grinning victoriously. “Make it eight thirty. I’ll see you then.”

  The doors start to close, and just before they do, she flashes me a bit of her saucy grin. “Yes, sir.”

  Oh, she’s gonna get it.

  Roxy

  “What happened to strictly business?” Hannah scolds me as we walk into our apartment after work and I toss my jacket on the couch. Squatting, I pull off my work heels and toss them onto the floor before I sag into the couch, exhausted by the half hour of bickering.

  “And I have been!” I argue. “But I can’t help that he cornered me and ordered me to go.”

  “Ordered you?” Hannah says, pulling off her heels and throwing them across the room and nearly hitting Mr. Felix, who goes scrambling away with a feline yowl of outrage. “What is he, your daddy?”

  “No, but he’s my boss!” I groan, laying my head back on the cushion, hoping to keep the headache that’s threatening to break out behind my eyeballs from turning into a migraine.

  “Yeah, but this isn’t something you had to say yes to!”

  “He didn’t give me time to say no,” I half lie. “He walked off before I could say anything.”

  Besides, the truth is, the way he made me come left me breathless. I still haven’t gotten over how good it felt to feel that big, hard cock rubbing up against my . . .

  “You just want to go,” she accuses with a smirk on her face, pulling me out of my lustful thoughts. “Admit it.”

  It’s true. I can’t even work up the energy to disagree. All week, I’ve been avoiding him, trying my best to do what needs to be done. But after that move he pulled in the elevator . . . shit. I have to go. He dropped in on me
and tempted me. Now I’m like a bee that's going after her honey.

  “Anyway, I’m going to get ready,” I say ending the conversation without admitting anything, but my eyes give it away. She’s right and she knows it. “Tonight, yes, I’m going,” I say when I’m not facing her. I laugh. “Don’t worry! I won’t overdo it.”

  Hannah yells, “You lowdown, dirty tramp!”

  I laugh, going into my bedroom. Wear something flashy. Jake's words come back to me. Flashy? Oh, I know flashy. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve still got some of my club wear somewhere in here. I never throw anything out. I go plunging into my closet, reminding myself that someday, I have to clean and organize all this shit, when I see it. My dress. It was a gift from some of the guys at Trixie’s when I was getting scouted for a record deal. Thigh-length and sparkly, it’s flowy and flirty but still clings to my curves, molding itself against my breasts and making me look hot. Quickly stripping, I wish the dress had space for a bra, but there isn’t. I’m just going to have to go all-natural. It makes me feel sexy, my nipples hardening in anticipation before I go hunting for my naughtiest silver and white thong and let the dress pour over my shoulders and down.

  I find the matching heels for this thing and slide them on, checking myself in my mirror. A quick tousle of my hair, and I look at myself again, stunned. “Damn,” I murmur, grinning. Here is what I’ve been missing. Here’s the Roxy who used to make people scream my name, and not just the few lucky men in bed. I do a quick little touchup of my makeup around my eyes and walk out, twirling as I do, showing off with a spunk I haven’t felt in a long time. “All right girl, whatcha think? Will I blow up the club or what?”

  “Okay. Fuck this shit!” Hannah, who’s sitting on the couch, yells when she sees me. Without another word, she disappears into her room. I can hear her mumbling that I’m making a huge mistake and should listen to her, and I can tell she’s getting dressed. In minutes, she comes back in a similar sparkly getup and heels. “Take that, bitch!”

  She struts in front of me, popping a hip in my direction. “As you can see, you’re not the only one with an ass around here.”