Boss with Benefits

by Mickey Miller

  Mr. X: This one is so much fun though

  I stand up, popping my head over the level of the cubicles so I can see if there are any other employees here. Only the secondary lights are on, and I see no one aside from the janitor.

  I decide to take a gamble. I have a hunch who Mr. X is and I need to verify if my guess is right. I have flats on today, not heels, so I’m in stealth mode as I walk briskly on the carpet to Sebastian’s office.

  Fiona is gone, and as I approach I can see one light glowing in his office.

  The door is open a crack, and I push it all the way open and proudly raise my voice as I enter.

  “Gotcha!”

  Terror spreads through me as I realize the room is totally empty. Thunder crashes outside, and I spin around in a panic to leave.

  I run into what feels like a brick wall.

  “What the fuck are you doing in my office?” Sebastian Blackwell booms.

  I’m short, but I wish I were even shorter. I try to leave, but he blocks the exit and shuts the door.

  Thunder explodes again outside, and I notice the lights everywhere in the building flicker and dim..

  “Nothing,” I finally say. “I was just leaving.”

  “I don’t think so,” Sebastian retorts. “You’re not going anywhere. You’ve got some explaining to do. This is the second time you’ve been caught snooping in my office. I’m not going to ask you again, Brett. What the fuck are you doing in your boss’s office?”

  My palms sweat as I hear him shut the door behind me.

  “I thought that…” I stammer, my words barely audible, and then I stop.

  Holy fuck. Is it possible I am totally wrong and off base? That the reality where Mr X and Mr Blackwell are the same person is all in my head, a little fantasy of my own creation?

  “Have a seat,” Sebastian growls, his voice husky as he gestures to the chair in front of me. Nervously, I pull out my phone as he saunters slowly to the bar in his office. His suit coat is off and he wears a navy blue vest to go along with his pants. I stare at the man’s frame from behind.

  The white noise of the storm crashing against the glass window behind him is the only comforting sound in my environment.

  Otherwise, I feel very much alone right now. I glance at the screen of my phone, and it goes dead. No service.

  “Electricity is out in the town,” Sebastian says, his back facing me while he pours a drink. “And the storm is supposed to last another three hours.”

  He spins around and our gazes meet. I wonder if he can sense my fear.

  “Are you a whisky drinker Brett?”

  “That’s what my daddy used to drink.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  His steps are slow and methodical as he walks toward me, then hands me the drink.

  “Thanks,” I say, nervous as I look up at him.

  “Cheers, Brett.”

  “Cheers,” I return as we clink glasses.

  “Let’s get down to business, Brett.”

  “Let’s,” I squeak, my voice suddenly meek.

  “You know I hired you because you are supremely talented. I can see that. Anyone can see that. And talent is just something you can’t teach. It’s like height. Either you have it or you don’t. One of the main reasons I’ve been successful is my ability to spot talent.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  He runs a hand through his hair, walks around to the other side of his desk, and sits with his hands folded.

  “But the thing with talent, is that the most talented individuals are usually the most difficult to control. And it’s evident that you do not give a shit about spending your time wisely at this job.”

  I shift my weight from side to side. “Um. Excuse me?”

  Sebastian leans in, and licks his lips, like he’s a lion about to pounce on his prey.

  “I’m going to give you one chance to answer truthfully. What were you doing in my office?”

  He takes a long sip of his whisky, sets the glass down and leans back, methodically examining me with his eyes, and flashing a cocky smirk.

  I take a deep breath.

  “I was looking for you,” I breathe, and the possibilities flash through me of what this could lead to. Will he fire me?

  Is there a chance that look in his eyes I’ve been sensing means the feeling is mutual?

  “Why were you looking for me?”

  I take a big, huge swig of my drink before I say what I’m about to.

  “I needed to know if you’re Mr. X. I want to know if you’ve been thinking about me...like that.”

  Without saying anything, Sebastian rises up from his desk. I cross my legs and uncross them. I unfocus my eyes, in a sort of trance, until he reappears just in front of me.

  “Do you like what Mr. X was saying?” he arches an eyebrow.

  “I do,” I mouth. “I want to get to know Mr. X. He’s got a way with words...is that...you?”

  “And if Mr. X were here, what would you want to do with him?”

  He steps as close to me as he can. I stand up, and there are only inches between us.

  “You want to fuck me. Don’t you, Miss Blue,” he growls, cocking his chin back.

  His words send a bolt of electricity through my body. Holy shit, he’s crossing the line.

  I lick my lips and whisper the only true word I can muster. “Yes.” I nod

  My heart pounds and my vision goes blurry. He takes my hand and guides me to his desk.

  “Brett.” He takes my hand. “I’ve been watching you for the past few weeks, and I want you. I want to get to know you more. I don’t know what this is, but I need to find out more. Are you okay with that?”

  “I’m okay with that.”

  “Alright. Good. Before we go any further. I’m going to need you to sign a NDA. This is ironclad. We will speak of none of this outside of you and I.”

  I hesitate for a moment, because this is happening so fast. Then again, a man like Sebastian probably can’t take any risks.

  “An NDA is fine with me,” I say. “And actually, that’s what I would prefer. I don’t want to be that girl who ‘slept her way to the top.’ Whatever this is, we need to keep it between us.”

  I bend down to glance over the document. It appears to just be a standard NDA.

  The pen shakes in my hand as I sign on the line, and when I’m done, I press my hand to his chest, almost involuntarily.

  He grabs hold of my wrist and kisses me on the hand.

  “Miss Blue. Or...should I call you Lacy?” he smiles.

  He holds onto my waist through my skirt, and attacks me like a feral animal, pressing me into the cold glass window.

  “Call me whatever you want,” I mutter as he kisses my cheek, covering all of the surface area available.

  He pulls back and runs a hand through my hair, grabs a fistful, and inhales. I smell him too, and his scent is musky and intoxicating. I run a hand on his cheek, feeling his five o'clock shadow.

  The storm thunders outside, but it’s nothing compared to the tornado that starts inside me when my boss pulls me to his body.

  “Lacy. Brett. Miss Blue. I’m going to be honest--I don’t give a fuck what your name is. I want to call you all three. I’ve been enamored with you ever since I laid eyes on you. I can’t stop thinking about you. There’s something about you. It’s your spirit. It’s your vibe. It’s your goddamn scent--it’s everything about you. I was already so physically attracted to you. And when I saw what you were writing--which is a whole other conversation we need to have, by the way--I couldn’t help myself.”

  He runs his hand the length of my body, starting at the top of my back and working down to my hips, my ass, before landing his hand on the back of my thigh. “A girl as sexy as you shouldn’t get to be as fucking smart and talented, too. It makes no sense, Lacy. You make no sense to me. No sense at all.”

  “And a guy as good-looking as you shouldn’t also be the leader of a company. And an alright writer yourse
lf. It makes no sense, Zane,” I smile, saying his made up fantasy name. “No sense at all.”

  He kisses me once on the lips,

  The rain pounds outside and the lightning flashes, but inside Sebastian’s big arms I feel safe.

  Inside, my heart pounds furiously, and I’m so glad it’s sound drowned out by the thunder outside so he won’t realize how much I want him in this moment. Maybe it’s silly of me to try to cover up my desire in any way, but I can’t help but think of that moment seven years ago when I caught him by surprise and kissed him.

  Now, though I’m still his employee, all bets are off about how far we’ll take things. I’m not just some sixteen year old girl with a fleeting crush.

  We’re both consenting adults, and I want to go all the way with him.

  My breath hitches as I reach around and grab onto his ass, and the thing is just as hard as I thought it would be when I saw his buns in the shower. Dear God it’s nice.

  “Sebastian,” I whisper as he works kisses down my neck. “I thought this would only be a fantasy. I never thought this would actually happen.”

  He runs the thumb and forefinger of his giant hand over my jaw, gripping me lightly.

  “Well we’re just getting started honey.”

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  His hand runs up my ass and finds it’s way under my shirt. He kisses his way down the side of my neck, then runs his tongue back up to my ear and whispers. “I’m going to make you mine. My little plaything. You want to write those little fantasies on company time? I’m going to give you something to write about.”

  “Oh God,” I mutter, and run my hand down the outside of his vest, so aware of how hard his stomach is underneath his clothing. I move to untuck his shirt.

  “Nah ah ah,” he mouths, lightly but firmly gripping my wrist. “Hands off the merchandise,” he smirks.

  “You’re truly an asshole, aren’t you,” I murmur.

  “I am whatever you say I am. And I’m going to make you work for what you want. You’ve got a dirty mind, don’t you, Miss Blue?”

  “Yes,” I admit.

  “Say it, then. Tell me how dirty it really is.”

  “My mind is very dirty. So dirty.”

  “What do you think the rest of the employees at Blackwell Industries would think if they knew how fucking filthy the mind of the most innocent looking girl on the entire floor was?”

  “I don’t know,” I whisper. “They’d probably be surprised. Are you surprised?”

  His cheek brushes against mine as he growls in a low voice. “Are you asking if I’m surprised that the homegrown good girl tomboy of Blackwell has a filthy fucking mind? The answer is fuck yes. And after I’m done with you. It’s going to be a whole lot filthier. You’ll never be the same again.”

  My gaze drifts downward, to his chest and forearms. Everything about the man is strength.

  “Wha-what are you going to do with me?” I ask.

  “All those fantasies you’re writing? I’m going to turn them into reality. Every single one. So you just keep writing at your desk during work hours. And every day, I’m going to call you into my office. Or order you somewhere else in the building. I’m going to get creative. And I’m going to make all of the fantasies you write come true, Miss Blue. Every single fucking one. I’m going to make them come true, and then some. Now turn around.”

  When Sebastian came by my house weeks ago, I had no problem telling him off.

  But right now, as his eyes sear into mine, his head slightly cocked, I’m on autopilot. I’m scared to think just how far I would go to please this man.

  I do as I’m told. I turn around, forced to look at the dark, stormy weather outside. The rain pounds on the glass, and I can make out a partial reflection of Sebastian’s menacing figure.

  My heart pounds.

  “Put your hands on the glass, Sales girl,” he snarls, and I palm the glass immediately. The flat surface is squeaky clean, and cold on my hands.

  “What are you going to do to me?” I ask. “I want to know.”

  He stands to the side of me and runs his hand through my hair. “I’m taking inventory of you. You’re quite remarkable, Brett, have you ever realized that?”

  “No.”

  He chuckles. “Suddenly you’re so honest. I like it when you’re honest. Well, since you haven’t apparently realized it, I’m going to fill you in.”

  I let my head hang down, feeling suddenly incredibly vulnerable, and wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.

  “The first thing about you, Brett, is your smile. Every time I see it, it literally makes my day better.”

  I feel a gentle kiss on the cheek.

  “Shall I continue?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m glad you want me to continue. Because I’m going to anyways. Your face, and your hair are so gorgeous that it makes me suspicious when I talk to you, Brett. This blonde color, is it natural?” He fists my hair, and pulls it back.

  “Yes,” I mouth.

  “Wow,” he says. “Amazing.”

  “What’s amazing? Why are you suspicious?”

  “Brett, I’m amazed that a girl would have this much beauty and brains in one. Usually it’s one or the other.”

  My heart skips a beat. “Oh,” I say, and I don’t expand on that, because I’m too shy to admit what I’m thinking to Sebastian.

  But that’s that best fucking compliment a man’s ever given me.

  “It’s just...fuck, Brett. And the rest.”

  He runs a careful hand slowly down my spine, cups my ass, and then lands it between my thighs. Warmth rushes between my legs. I ache for him to reach just a bit higher on my body.

  “It makes no sense, Brett. You make no sense. But…” he chuckles, and it’s a natural laugh as if something catches him by surprise.

  “What?” I ask, opening my eyes and turning my head toward him. “Why did you laugh?”

  He rocks back on his heel, drink in one hand as he fixates on me. My mind goes to the worst place, and I wonder if this is all a big joke he’s playing on me. Anger washes over my whole body, catching me by surprise, and I take my hands off the glass.

  “Don’t you fucking move,” he says, and I freeze, but cross my arms and peer at him.

  “I want to know why you laughed,” I say again. “What are you hiding? Is this some kind of practical joke?”

  “I wasn’t laughing at you,” he says. “I was laughing at how ridiculous my mind is. You ever have a voice inside you, something subconscious, that just forms a thought around something before you have time to filter it?”

  “All the time,” I admit.

  “Yeah, well that happens to me a lot. And it just happened to you. Staring at you, running my hand over you, somewhere inside me I had the thought, ‘you know, if a girl as beautiful as Brett Blue exists, there has to be a fucking God.’”

  He smirks, takes another drink, and makes an ‘ah’ noise when he’s done. My whole body heats up, and that’s when I feel the space between us shrink, and my walls fall down. Somehow this man sees something in me no one else has ever grasped.

  “Fuck, Sebastian. That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  In a moment he closes the physical space between us. “No one’s ever told you how gorgeous and amazing you are? Don’t lie now, Miss Blue.”

  I smile and look down. “They haven’t put it like that.”

  “Well it’s fucking true,” he says before pulling me in for another kiss. “Now turn the fuck around so I can make you come.”

  I melt. It’s his tone of voice, it’s the things he says about me, it’s his damn sexy body. It’s the storm outside that makes me feel like we’re in our own little bubble, away from the outside world.

  I turn and he puts his hands on my hips from behind. I wonder what he’ll do. “Take off those sexy white pants,” he orders. “I want to watch you wiggle out of them.”

  I do as he says, fir
st slipping off my shoes and then taking my pants off.

  “Holy fuck. A thong.”

  I shrug and smile. “It’s hard to find underwear to wear underneath white pants. Do you like it?”

  “Like it? Brett, it’s so damn hot.”

  “Really?” My skin tingles hearing Sebastian call me hot.

  “Yeah. And you know what else is hot right now?”

  “What’s that?”

  “You,” he growls, and drops his hands to the flesh of my hips. He kisses my neck from behind, and presses his hips into my ass.

  “Holy shit,” I breathe, able to feel the girth of his cock pressing into my ass through his pants. I reach clumsily behind me, trying to pet his hard length between his legs, but he grabs my hand.

  “Nah-ah-ah,” he whispers throatily. “Not yet. I have other plans in store for right now. Put your own hand between your legs.”

  He pulls my panties down to my knees, and I feel so awkward. Like this is all so unplanned and accidental.

  I do as I’m told, because his voice has a hypnotic power over me. I lightly rub my middle finger over my already soaking clit.

  “That’s right,” he whispers. “I want to make you come so hard, Brett. I do. God damn, you’ve no idea how much I’d love to just slide right in, feel this ass against my hips as I thrust deep inside you again and again. But you’re not ready for that.”

  “I’m not?” I say, and the phrase comes out much more a question then I intended.

  “You’re not,” he repeats firmly. “Not at all. But you’re doing a good job yourself right now. I like how I can see your whole reflection in the window. God damn you’re sexy, Brett. You know what, fuck it.”

  I moan loudly, the pleasure setting in.

  I hear him unzip his pants and flops out his cock.

  I glance down at it for just a moment and my jaw drops. “Massive,” I manage to croak.

  “Now hook two fingers inside yourself,” he orders. “I want to see how you do it.”

  “Are you going to stroke yourself while you watch me?” I say as I do as he says, letting my fingers enter deeper inside me.

  “Yes,” he says. “I’m not going to fuck you yet, Brett. Even though I want to. Oh God, do I want to.”

  He steps to the side of me so I’m plainly in his view. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, my boss in a full suit with just his huge cock poking out as he stares at me with narrow eyes.