Naughty, Dirty, Cocky

by Whitney G.

  “Have a seat.” He motioned for me to sit in front of his desk.

  I sat down and he picked up his coffee, taking a long sip.

  “You know, Miss London,” He emphasized every syllable of my name. “I honestly thought you and I were on better terms, especially after working together for over a year. But it seems I was clearly mistaken.”

  He looked as if he was waiting for some type of explanation in regards to my email, and I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to go for Plan A, B, or C. As if he could sense that I was weighing my options, his lips curved up into a smirk.

  I tried to avert my gaze, even for a second, but I couldn’t look away from him at all.

  “Are you going to say something?” he asked. “Or are you going to continue sitting there as if you have no idea what I’m talking about?”

  “Is this about me leaving early yesterday?” I settled on Plan A. “I was feeling a little ill, that’s all.”

  “This is about a particularly inappropriate email where you make a mention of me fucking you.”

  My cheeks were on fire and I knew he wasn’t going to let me avoid this at all.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, the words rushing out. “I had no idea that I’d accidentally—”

  “This is also about ...” he said, cutting me off as he raised his hand. “Me possibly needing to go to human resources and file a complaint. A sexual harassment complaint.”

  What?

  Slowly standing up, he walked in front of his desk—keeping me pinned to the seat with his angry gaze, making me soaking wet with every slight lick of his lips.

  “Sexual harassment is a very serious offense here at Leighton Publishing, Miss London.” He looked me up and down. “I’ve had people fired for far less egregious offenses, and I technically should be doing the same to you right now, as that would only be more than fair.” He didn’t let me get a word in. “Especially since I don’t think you fully understand why what you did was so offensive.”

  “I do ...” My voice was a whisper.

  “Oh really?” He raised his eyebrow. “Can you imagine if I accidentally sent a similar email to someone about you, the way you did me?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Let me put this in perspective for you.” He leaned forward, so close his knees were touching mine. “If I sent an email to you—accidentally that is, and it said that I’ve wanted you to sit your pussy on my face since you started working here ... Or that I’ve wanted to bend your ass over my own desk and fuck you until you begged me to stop every time you wore a particular shade of dress, don’t you think I would need to be reprimanded somehow?”

  I was speechless at his words, and I wasn’t sure if he was simply giving an example or if he’d really thought about me the way I’d thought about him.

  “Answer me, Mya.” The way my name fell from his lips made me suck in a breath. “Don’t you think there would be an uproar with serious consequences?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe? No, definitely.” He adjusted his tie. “In fact, there would be such an uproar that I think the IT Department would be forced to go through all the emails I’d ever sent on any company device since nothing sent on a company server is ever truly deleted. In fact, they’d probably have to investigate and see if this was a one-time offense or a particularly interesting pattern....”

  I felt my jaw dropping and struggled to keep my lips together.

  “I mean,” he said, looking somewhat serious, “depending on what they found, they’d have to personally address me and assess the damages. And if the person I was talking about ‘fucking’ in my emails wanted to, I’m sure she could make my life very miserable.”

  Silence.

  He picked up a folder from his desk and slowly set in on my lap—somehow managing to turn me on even further without even touching me. “Three hundred and sixty-seven emails between you and your ‘bestie’, Amy.”

  That’s it?

  “That’s this month alone.” His voice was clipped. “I didn’t have time to read more than a few of them, but I’m assuming we won’t be seeing any more of these in our IT database. Or will we?”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Good. I had them all permanently deleted. You’re welcome.” He stood up and glanced at his watch. “Those Roberto files are due before our morning meeting with Lockwood.” He walked over to the door and held it open, waiting for me to leave.

  Avoiding his gaze, I stood up and headed into the hallway.

  “Oh, and one last thing, Miss London,” he said, making me look over my shoulder.

  “Yes?”

  “For the record, per your email with the subject heading, ‘I Wonder If He Eats Pussy’ ...” He looked me up and down. “I do eat pussy, and if I ever was going to eat your pussy ... If that thought had ever been filthy enough to cross my mind and certain circumstances between us were different, you wouldn’t be able to walk for days after I was done with you....”

  THE BOSS

  Michael

  Manhattan, New York

  I’d read every single email I pulled from the IT Department. Every. Single. One.

  They were easy to track since apparently she and her friend labeled all the ones in regards to me as “Ass-holery Report,” “My Boss,” or “This Man Today....”

  It was quite apparent that she “hated” me and I almost regretted taking out my sexual frustration on her by demanding so much. Almost.

  Her mind was damn near as naughty as mine when it came to sex, and it was slightly gratifying to know that the attraction wasn’t one sided, even if there was little I could do about it.

  I’d never mixed business with pleasure before, and I wasn’t going to start now. I just needed to get through all eight of our meetings today without thinking about what I’d seen in her emails, without thinking about the fact that maybe it wasn’t mixing business with pleasure if she was so hell bent on leaving soon.

  If I was ‘letting’ her leave soon, that is.

  Fuck....

  THE ASSISTANT

  Mya

  Manhattan, New York

  Subject: What I Need In Two Hours

  The Lexington files. Transfer papers on the acquisition of Lerner and Taylor. Your front-list report. The notes from this afternoon’s meeting.

  Michael Leighton,

  CEO, Leighton Publishing

  I closed his email and sighed. I was starting to wish that he’d simply fired me. Ever since that meeting in his office two days ago, he’d been twice as domineering. Twice as unbearable.

  It’d taken everything in me not to walk out on the all-staff meeting when he purposely put me on the spot and asked me several questions about a book he knew I hadn’t had the chance to read yet. Then again when he chastised me in front of everyone for submitting incomplete reports that weren’t even due for another four weeks.

  There was no way I was going to complete every objective in his most recent email within two hours, so I wasn’t even going to try. I grabbed the work I’d already finished and headed up to his office, sending Amy an email on the ride up.

  I didn’t care if he caught this message on the company server or not.

  Subject: Horrible Boss+ Typical A*hole Behavior + Long Day = Wine. Stat!

  I’m leaving work early today. Can I come over and drink wine at your place for the night?

  Your bestie,

  Mya

  Her response came through in seconds.

  Subject: Re: Horrible Boss+ Typical A*hole Behavior + Long Day = Wine. Stat!

  Of course.

  I’ll head out now and buy your favorite.

  Your bestie,

  Amy

  The second the elevator doors opened, I headed straight for his office and I didn’t bother knocking.

  I opened the door and saw him reading a book at his desk.

  “May I help you with something, Miss London?” He looked up at me.

  “Here is my front-list report.” I slammed a
huge binder of paperwork on his desk. “The Lexington report, the part I managed to finish anyway, should be in your inbox within minutes.”

  “You didn’t need to come up here to say that. You should’ve just sent me an email....” His gaze went to my lips, but then he narrowed his eyes at me. “You know I hate when people come into my office without permission.”

  “You hate a lot of things.” I shrugged. “Maybe you should just learn how to deal with them like everyone else. I’ll be bringing my notes from this afternoon’s meeting up here when I finish—without knocking, since I’ll probably have to bring you a late lunch, and then I’m officially done for the day.”

  “No.” He flipped a page in his book. “You’ll just think you’re done for the day. I need you to stay until eight o’clock today.”

  “I can’t,” I said firmly. “I have plans.”

  “I know,” he said, putting down his novel. “Your plans involve staying here until eight o’clock.”

  “Mr. Leighton ...” I looked him right in the eyes. “With all due respect, which you deserve none of after the way you’ve treated me this week, I’m not staying today. I don’t have time. And actually, you know something else?” I knocked the folder I’d just set on his desk onto the floor, sending hundreds of loose report sheets to the floor. “I’m not going to pick that up, and I’m not going to do anything else today. I’m going home. Now.”

  “Miss London ...” He gritted his teeth. “Don’t make me—”

  “What? Fire me? Please do.” I turned away from him and rushed out of his office with my blood boiling and my frustration at an all-time high.

  Seething, I took the steps down to my office and slammed the door shut. I logged into my scheduling portal and sent email cancellations for the remainder of my meetings. I also sent Human Resources a message that confirmed I was leaving early for “personal reasons” and that I might need to request additional time off in the coming days.

  I made sure all the emails went through, and then I shut down my computer and closed all of the binders on my desk.

  As I was slipping into my coat, my door swung open and Michael stormed inside my office.

  “Going somewhere?” He hissed, clenching his jaw. “Did you not hear what I said when we were upstairs?”

  “I did.” I picked up my scarf. “Did you not hear what I said? I’m. Leaving. You can stand there and threaten me with your stares all you want, but I’m going home.”

  “Mya ...” He shut the door and locked it, then he stepped toward my desk. “I’m not going to ask you to stay here again.”

  “Good.” I shrugged. “Then that makes it that much easier for me to leave.” I slung my purse over my shoulder and headed for the side door, but he grabbed my elbow from behind and spun me around to face him.

  “Why are you being so goddamn difficult?” He pressed his forehead against mine. “I really need you to stay here with me today....”

  “Then I need you to give me a worthwhile reason to.”

  His lips suddenly crashed against mine and his arms went around my waist, his fingers deftly unfastening the belt of my coat. Keeping his mouth against mine, he pulled open my lapels and pushed the coat off my shoulders and onto the floor.

  Biting my bottom lip, he slid his hand up my dress, slowly tearing off my soaked panties. He kissed me until I was breathless, gently pushing me backward and against my desk.

  Briefly letting my lips go, he pushed all of my binders and files onto the floor. My office line began to ring, and he immediately knocked the phone to the floor, too.

  Without saying a word, he grabbed me by my waist and lifted me up, firmly planting me on the top of my desk. My bare ass cheeks hit the cold mahogany desktop and I sucked in a breath as I caught sight of his hardened cock through his pants.

  “Spread your legs for me,” he commanded.

  The sound of people talking outside my office made me want to jump up, but he placed his hand against my stomach and stared into my eyes.

  “They won’t be able to hear us,” he whispered. “Do what I told you to do. Now.”

  I slowly moved my legs apart and he loosened his tie, keeping his gaze between my thighs.

  He stepped between my legs and pressed his thumb against my swelling clit, applying just enough pressure to make me murmur.

  “I need you to promise me that you’re not going to scream,” he said. “They will hear that....”

  I nodded, unable to respond as he bent down and sucked my clit into his mouth. “Can you promise me that, Mya?”

  “I ...” I nodded again, breathing slowly as he blew against my skin. “Yes ... I promise I won’t ... Scream when you fuck me....”

  “I wasn’t referring to when I fucked you.” He lifted his head up, smirking. “I have to eat your pussy first.” He suddenly grabbed me by my ankles and pulled me closer to the edge of the desk, quickly positioning both of my legs over his shoulders.

  Without wasting another second, he buried his head between my legs and pressed his mouth against my pussy—sending every nerve in my body into overdrive. His tongue darted against my clit relentlessly and I cried out as he slid two thick fingers inside of me, as he groaned.

  My hands went to his hair—gripping it hard as I begged him for mercy, but he continued to torture me with pleasure. In between moans, I threatened to scream, but he only laughed and the strokes of his tongue became more powerful.

  As his hands held my legs steady against his mouth, I felt myself on the verge of an orgasm, felt my entire body beginning to shake.

  “Michael, I ... I ...” I struggled to get another word to fall out of my mouth. My body convulsed against the desk, forcing me to break my promise and scream so loudly I was sure everyone on the floor could hear me.

  I felt him pressing his fingers against my mouth, heard him commanding me to be quiet, but I shut my eyes and tossed my head back—losing all control.

  I wasn’t sure how long I continued to shake, or if any of my coworkers heard me, but when I opened my eyes again, my legs were still around Michael, and he was staring at me.

  I thought he was going to say something, to find a way to break our heated silence, but he simply moved my legs from around his shoulders and unbuttoned his pants. My eyes widened as far as they could go as he pulled out his cock, as I realized he was thicker and more well-hung than I’d imagined.

  He smiled at my shocked reaction, tipping my chin up with his fingertips. “Bend over the desk.”

  I gasped. “What?”

  “You heard me.” He grabbed my hands and pulled me up. Then he gripped my hips and spun me around so my back was to his front. “Bend over the fucking desk.”

  Slowly obliging, I pressed my chest against the metal.

  I heard the sound of his pants hitting the floor, the sound of him unwrapping a condom. From behind, he slowly pushed my dress up to my waist.

  Slapping my ass, he slowly slid his huge cock into me, inch by inch.

  Moaning, I struggled to maintain my balance as I adjusted to his impressive length.

  When he was completely inside of me, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head back until our eyes met, whispering, “Is this how I fucked you in your fantasies?”

  I didn’t get a chance to answer. He pounded into me relentlessly, keeping one hand in my hair and slapping my ass each time I cried out.

  He bit my shoulder as I said his name, as I shut my eyes once more and realized he was ten times better in reality than any fantasy I’d ever concocted.

  He let go of my hair and slid a hand up to my breasts, squeezing them as he whispered, “I’ve wanted to feel your pussy on my cock ever since you started working here....”

  I gasped, unable to react as my legs began to shake all over again.

  “Michael ... Michael ...”

  “Mya ...Mya ...” He mocked me, a slight smile in his voice.

  “I ... I ...” I gripped the edge of the desk as he slapped my ass again. He whispered my na
me as the tremors continued to build inside of me, and I heard him say, “Wait for me,” but I was already there.

  My pussy throbbed in pleasure and another orgasm wracked its way through my body, leaving me limp and breathless against the desk. Leaving me wondering just how long he’d fucked me.

  Holding me still, he found his own release seconds later, and I struggled to catch my breath.

  The two of us remained entwined, and he kissed the back of my neck.

  “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

  I nodded.

  “Can I let you go now?”

  “No.”

  He let out a low laugh and held me against him longer, waiting until I gave him the okay to let me go. Kissing the back of my neck once more, he slowly pulled out of me and tossed the condom into the trash. Then he wrapped his arms around me and spun me around so I was propped against the desk.

  As if he could tell I was unable to fully function on my own, he readjusted my dress and helped me into my coat. Then he ran his fingers through my hair and looked me over before picking up my heels and helping me slide into them.

  “You should call your driver now,” he said softly, picking up my desk phone from the floor and handing it to me. “I’ll walk you downstairs.”

  I nodded and dialed my driver, watching Michael slip into his pants and adjust his tie. His eyes never left mine, and as soon as my driver said, “I’ll be downstairs in five,” I hung up.

  Michael handed me my purse and I wobbled on my heels as I attempted to walk—earning a knowing, sexy smile from him. He pulled me against his side and thoughtfully walked me toward the freight elevators so no one would see us.

  I avoided looking at him as we rode the elevator. I was in complete and utter shock that I’d actually fucked him, that the leading man in all my fantasies had easily put every single one of those to shame with reality.

  When we stepped outside together, I was immediately confused as to why the sky had fallen dark so quickly.

  Michael walked me right to the town car and opened the back door, waiting for me to get inside. He looked as if he expected me to say something, but for whatever reason, I could only think of one thing.