Made In America

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Made In America Page 5

by Jamie Deschain


  As if sensing my stare, she looks up and meets my eyes. Grinning, Raven purrs, “Like what you see?”

  “Very much,” I growl, shifting slightly in my chair to give my dick more room to breathe.

  “Remember,” she teases. “I’m not going to fuck you.”

  “No fucking,” I repeat. “Got it.”

  I shake off the gaze, feeling the pulsating ache in my cock abate ever so slightly before I stand up and file away the signed papers to send down to HR. Raven stands along with me, looking a little nervous as I make my way around the desk.

  “What’s that perfume you’re wearing?” I ask, taking in a whiff of her scent.

  “I don’t know. Something cheap.”

  “I actually kind of like it.”

  She laughs, “Well, I’m glad I got that part right. Imagine, you liking something cheap. What a shocker.”

  “Speaking of cheap, after work you’re going to go out and buy yourself some new clothes to wear.”

  “I told you I don’t have any money for clothes. Not until my first paycheck.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll give you an allowance.”

  “An allowance? What are you, my father?”

  “If I say yes, will you call me Daddy?”

  She tries to hide her amusement, but I can see it all over her face before she buries it in the palm of her hand and shakes her head. “You’re insufferable,” she groans.

  I like that I can make her laugh, even if it is with my pervy comments. I want to keep talking to see what else I can make her do, but time is money, and she needs to be shown the ropes around here.

  “Come on,” I urge, moving forward. “Let’s show you to your desk.”

  She takes a hesitant step forward, nervously biting her bottom lip.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  She nods, but says, “No. I’m scared. What if I fuck up? I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  I see the genuine concern on her face, and soften my posture. Placing a hand on her shoulder, she flinches underneath my touch, but I grip tighter to reassure her my contact means nothing more than understanding.

  I’ve been where Raven is before.

  We all have.

  “You’re going to do fine,” I say. “It’s natural to feel nervous. Try not to let it get to you. If you fuck up, it’s okay. I’m not going to bite your head off.”

  “No?” Raven smirks. “I bet you like to bite, though.”

  I clench my teeth together. It takes everything I have in me not to bury my face in her neck and show her just how right she is. I’d nibble her all over if I could. Her neck, her tits, her pussy. She has no idea just how much I enjoy biting.

  “Is that your way of releasing tension? Making naughty comments to see me squirm?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t mind seeing you squirm, Mr. Huffman.”

  I release a long, deep sigh, and guide her forward. “Come on, let’s get you settled in.”

  Pushing her onward, she steps in front and I follow, taking the opportunity to look at her ass as it sways from left to right underneath the fabric of her tight-fitting pencil skirt.

  If I don’t get slapped with a sexual harassment suit before the day’s through, I’ll call it a miracle.

  Then again, something tells me that Raven likes all this attention.

  Good thing for her, I like giving it.

  By the time twelve o’clock rolls around I can physically feel the hunger pangs shooting through my stomach. Normally I eat a hearty breakfast, but with Raven coming in this morning I felt too nervous to keep anything down. Now I’m paying for it by way of starvation, and food is the only thing I can think about.

  I pick up the phone and ring her desk. I realize that in showing her around this morning and popping off the cuff sexual innuendos like they were Pez, I forgot to tell her where I like to have lunch from when I’m in the office to actually eat lunch. Normally I go out, but today I thought it best to stay in for Raven’s sake so she’s not left alone.

  At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

  The phone continues to ring but there’s no answer. Five times. Ten times. “What the hell is she doing?” I mumble, slamming the receiver down. I take a deep breath and compose myself, getting control of my hungry temper before making my way out into the hall. I told her I wouldn’t bite her head off if anything goes wrong, and I meant it.

  But that doesn’t mean I won’t bite the heads off the people crowding around her desk.

  “What’s going on here?” I bark.

  Several junior executives scatter, giving way to Raven, sitting behind her desk with her legs crossed and a glowering expression on her face. One suit in particular catches my attention and I grab it by the shoulder, spinning it around.

  “Alan?” I question.

  “I thought you said he was suspended?” Raven scolds.

  “Relax, Princess, I am. I was just coming in to pick up a few things from my office I left here.” He raises his briefcase to prove his innocence.

  “You should’ve called first, Alan,” I say.

  “What? And miss out on this little display?” He nods toward Raven, who glares up at him like she’s going to walk out any minute now. I can’t let that happen.

  I know he sees her as nothing more than a piece of meat, and the truth is, I did too, at first. But now I realize she’s so much more than that. Not only can she match me comment for comment, but her work this morning has been impeccable. Not at all what I expected. For someone who’s never worked in an office before, especially in an office of this caliber, she catches on quick. Quicker than any assistant I’ve ever had before, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Alan fuck this up.

  “Get out of here, Alan,” I say sternly, making sure Raven sees the dark shadow pass over my face.

  He looks at me, and then back at her.

  “Come on, Grant, you can’t be serious?”

  Taking a step forward, I get in his face and say, “Oh, I’m very serious. You’re under suspension, which means you’re barred from this building. Don’t think your position here warrants you any special treatment. You were given an order, and I expect you to follow it. If you don’t, then your suspension will turn into something more permanent.”

  He scoffs. Thinks I’m joking. But the harder I stare, the more serious his expression becomes as he realizes I am anything but joking.

  Alan clears his throat and smooths out his suit jacket. Taking a step back, he nods and catches Raven’s eye. She looks back at him with a gleam of smugness on her face, making me feel proud for having stood up for her.

  “Fine,” Alan chirps. “Fine. I see how it is. You get yourself a hot little piece of ass and suddenly the rest of us are—”

  “I wouldn’t finish that statement if I were you,” I growl.

  And he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything else, and that’s good. For him.

  Instead, he backs away and leaves with a slight shake of his head. Raven and I both watch him go, and I unclench my hands, which have been balled up into tight fists this entire time, ready to strike should the need have risen.

  “Wow,” she says. “I guess you told him.”

  I turn to her and say, “I meant what I said. He is suspended. The way he treated you was abominable, and I won’t have him leering over you while you work.”

  “What happens when his suspension is lifted?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  She nods, satisfied with that answer, and I catch her giving me the once over as I stand there and look at the spot where Alan was just standing. The adrenaline surge I felt while confronting him begins to diminish, and I’m reminded of the ever-growing hunger coursing through me.

  “It’s lunch time,” I say. “Can you run down and get me something from Panera Bread. Just tell them it’s for Mr. Huffman, they’ll know what to give you.”

  “Panera Bread?” Raven cocks an eyebrow. “How about just a bu
rger and fries?”

  “How about you just do what I say?” I don’t mean to sound harsh, but fuck I’m hungry.

  “Sure,” she says timidly, and before I can apologize, she storms off around the corner toward the elevators.

  Great, Grant. Real great.

  - 7 -

  Raven

  There are so many conflicting emotions running through me as I step out of the office building and make my way across the street.

  This day was going so well. I was kicking ass at that desk, taking calls, holding calls, routing calls, booking and cancelling appointments left and right. I wasn’t sure I’d be up to handling the stress of it all, but once I found my groove, it was all systems go, and I was feeling pretty damn proud of myself for keeping up with Grant and his demands.

  And then Alan showed up. Alan fucking Danziger is the last person I expected to see during my first day on the job, but there he was, brining with him a horde of other employees to gather around my desk for show. At first the attention was sort of flattering. Being the new girl is never easy, especially in an office so big. I was happy to be able to get to know some of the people I’d be working with, even if I could feel Alan leering over me as we all spoke. His beady little eyes wouldn’t stop looking at my fun bags, and it was starting to creep me out.

  I didn’t want to make a scene on my first day, otherwise I would have told him to fuck off.

  Then Grant showed up, making a scene all his own. My God, what a display of testosterone that was. The way he stood up to Alan, who I know is one of his favored employees, was incredible. Seeing him go all alpha male like that was kind of a turn on, and by the time Alan shrunk away with his tail tucked between his legs, I thought for sure the day was back on track.

  Then he had to go ruin it by being all rude to me.

  How about you just do what I say.

  I get that he’s hungry, so am I, but that’s no excuse.

  How about you just do what I say.

  How about you just take my foot and shove it up your—

  “Great,” I mumble, stepping in line outside Panera Bread. The place is crowded, with the cue going out the front door. By the time I even get up to the counter to ask for Grant’s lunch, it’ll be one o’clock and neither of us will have gotten to eat before the afternoon chaos starts.

  I tap my foot, thinking of the way he looked when confronting Alan. Stern and hard, it was damn sexy from my vantage point, if not a little scary. For the first time, I saw his dangerous side, and while a part of me wants to believe it was all for my benefit, most of me believes the Grant Huffman hiding beneath that suit isn’t as cut and dry as I first pegged him to be.

  The line moves, an inch. My stomach growls, and I grow more impatient by the second. Looking around to see what other restaurants surround me, I step out of line and make my way through the lunch crowd to grab something other than Grant’s specified meal.

  I’ll teach him to be rude to me.

  By the time I have our food in hand and get back upstairs, it’s nearly 12:45. Not much time to scarf down lunch, but I’ll be damned if I’m getting through the rest of this day on an empty stomach, so if scarfing is what I have to do to fill my stomach, so be it.

  I knock on Grant’s door.

  “Come in.”

  Entering, I close it behind me as he says, “What took you so long?”

  “Have you looked out your window lately? It’s a zoo down there.” Dropping a greasy bag on his desk blotter, I say, “Here,” and plunk myself down across from him.

  He stares at the fast food bag. “What’s this?” he asks cautiously.

  “This,” I say, snatching the bag and reaching in to it, “Is a Big Mac.” I take the container out, followed by a hamburger of my own, and some fries, and a pie.

  The look on Grant’s face is priceless, and more than makes up for him being rude to me. You’d think I’d given him a bag of cockroaches to eat by the way his nose turns up at the scent of the burger and fries.

  “This isn’t Panera Bread.”

  “Yeah, well, should’ve thought of that at 11:30, otherwise I’d still be waiting in line to get your food. Besides, why have a stuffy old turkey sandwich, when you can have this bad boy tantalizing your tastebuds.” I take a huge bite of the Big Mac. Lettuce and sauce plops down into the container and I roll my eyes back as I chew. “Mmm, heaven,” I mumble.

  Grant looks on in horror. “You don’t actually like that, do you?”

  “Have you never had a Big Mac before?”

  He shakes his head. “No, actually. I haven’t.”

  My eyes go wide with shock. Who the hell has never eaten a Big Mac? Oh, right. People like Grant.

  Dropping my burger, I shove his forward, urging him to try it. He sighs, giving in to his hunger and opening the box to reveal a sloppy mess of carbs. He hesitantly picks it up, trying to be as polite as possible, but Big Macs aren’t meant to be eaten politely. They’re meant to be stuffed in your face hole and consumed in three gigantic bites.

  I laugh as he takes his first nibble. His eyes are shut tight as he chews and I can tell his brain is trying to process what his taste buds are experiencing.

  “Not bad, right?”

  “Not good, either,” he says, refusing to admit he might actually like the food. “You know,” he adds, wiping his fingers on a napkin, “I don’t normally allow people in here when I eat.”

  I look around the office and back at him. “Is that supposed to make me feel special?”

  “Do you?” he asks.

  “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Are you going to apologize for being rude to me earlier?”

  “Depends,” he grins.

  “On what?”

  “Are you going to apologize for bringing me this horrendous offering called lunch.”

  “You first,” I wink, watching him pick up his burger.

  “Shit,” he shouts, suddenly jumping back from the desk, but not before a glob of sauce drips down his shirt.

  I know I shouldn’t laugh, but it’s the funniest thing I’ve seen in a while, and as I sit here giggling my skirt off, Grant stares daggers through me in the nicest way possible. My laughter quickly fades though, as he untucks his tail and starts to unbutton himself.

  Oh.

  Oh my.

  “Um, what are you doing?” I ask.

  “I can’t very well walk around the office with this on me all day, can I?”

  Now fully unbuttoned, his dress shirt hangs open to reveal a chiseled set of absI wasn’t expecting to see. A thin line of hair trails down from his navel, disappearing into his pants, and when he removes the shirt completely, I notice the pronounced V-cut of his lower abs, and then my eyes trail up his hard body, landing mesmerized on the tanned pectoral muscles of his smooth chest.

  I uncross and recross my legs. Christ, it feels like there’s a fire in my crotch that no amount of friction can satiate.

  “Like what you see?” he purrs.

  It takes me a moment to register Grant said anything at all, but when I do, I shake off my fascination with his body and meet his sultry gaze. “Very much,” I smile, echoing his words from this morning.

  He goes over to the wardrobe and pulls out a fresh shirt, and I’m disappointed when the silky material hides my view of his muscular back and shoulders.

  God damn, what a physique. I could have fun with that, for sure.

  After buttoning up and tucking in, he returns to the desk, sitting down with his half-eaten hamburger forgotten about for the time being. He laces his fingers together with purpose and says, “Now, where were we? Oh, right. I’m sorry I was rude to you, Raven. I was hungry and that whole thing with Alan pushed me over the edge. I had no right to take it out on you. You’ve been doing a stellar job this morning so far.”

  I lift my chin, beaming proudly at him. “Thanks,” I chirp. “That means a lot. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle it, but so far, so good. Aside from jerk face sho
wing up, this day’s been a whirlwind, but in the best way possible.”

  “Yes, well, Alan won’t be showing up again like that, trust me.”

  “By the way, thanks for sticking up for me like that.”

  “Did you expect anything less?”

  “I don’t know what I expected, to be honest with you.”

  He smirks, and leans forward to take another bite of his Big Mac. “You know, if we’re being honest then I have to admit I didn’t expect that, either. When I saw him standing there I just…saw red.”

  I blush slightly, turning my head in the hopes that he doesn’t notice. “Aww,” I mask, “you feel protective of me.”

  “I do,” he agrees.

  “Why? I mean, we barely know one another.”

  “I know enough.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah,” he nods.

  “What do you know when you look at me?”

  I brace myself for an inappropriate sexual comment, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, Grant surprises me.

  “I know you’re confused about your life. You have no idea what you want or where you’re going, but you’re okay with that for the moment. I know you like to pretend you’re carefree and full of life, and maybe a part of you is, but that other part is terrified someone might come along and see the real you. The you who’s afraid and insecure living far away from your security blanket across the pond, in a city that could eat you alive at any second, but at the same time is determined to prove everyone wrong. I know when I look at you, Raven, I see a woman who has depth to her, and isn’t the materialistic, shallow sort I’m used to dealing with. You’re a complicated woman. That’s what I know.”

  Silence cloaks us both when he finishes speaking. I can’t even hear myself breathing, because I’m not. As much as I hate to admit it, Grant just sucked the air out of my lungs by reading me like an open book, and like his display of masculinity earlier with Alan, it’s sort of terrifying. Yet at the same time I’m amazed because no man before him has ever been able to do that. No one’s ever been able to just look at me and tell me what’s inside. They’re too busy ogling what’s on the outside to notice.

 

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