by Emily Bishop
Kieran sighs with dramatic flair as he leans deeper into the sofa. “OK, what about this? A good number of your staff like to go to that place for drinks and comradery. Don’t you want to make connections with your team? For heaven’s sake, I’m pretty sure they’re all afraid of you.”
“Good,” I reply. The last thing I want to do is let loose around my inferiors. How will I get their respect if I’m chugging a beer alongside them?
“Bo, this is the twenty-first century. People respect a boss who mingles, who wants to engage and be a part of his team. You could lose valuable members if you don’t humanize yourself a bit more.”
I glare at him. I want him to be wrong, but he sounds terribly convincing. I’m not so archaic that I haven’t read all the major management books. I know what a good manager is supposed to be. Problem is, I didn’t get to where I am today by relying on others. Now that I’ve gotten big enough to need them, perhaps I need to crack open some more of those modern management books.
“Fine,” I say on an exhale. “But you’re buying.”
“How fair is that? You’re the rich one.”
“Ha,” I say. “Come on. Let’s get this over with. Go on ahead. I’ll meet you at the elevator.”
“Sweet.” Kieran claps his hands together then trots right out of the office. I pick up my phone and open the chat.
“I imagine you would be impossible not to talk to in a crowded room. I’d make sure you smiled the entire night.”
It’s a bit of a line, but I’ve opted to be truthful with Angel. I don’t know what’s going to become of this whole thing, but the element of confessing myself anonymously to a stranger helps me open up a little easier. I don’t normally do well talking to other people about anything but business.
It’s just safer that way.
I see her typing, so I wait to step out of the office.
“I’m already smiling because you’re with me. Thank you for that. I don’t feel so alone anymore.”
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face at that admission. It feels good to make a woman happy. I’ve never really given myself the chance to. In my life, women are disposable. Usually, they’re after the money or the parties. If they’re hot enough, I allow it.
For a time.
Then when I tire of them, I discard them. It’s not complicated. It’s not even emotional. I ensure that each woman understands exactly what she’s getting into, and more often than not, she’s fine with it. It’s been an agreement that’s worked well for me. I get mine. They get theirs. We part ways as indifferent acquaintances.
No complicated emotions. No baggage. Just sex and money. Just the way life is.
I type back a quick “good,” then head out the door. If I don’t move soon, Kieran might try to drag me out, and that will end badly for us both. I join him at the elevator and together we make our way down to the main lobby.
The bar is a few short blocks away. It’s upscale, the booze top-shelf. When we walk in, I recognize a number of familiar faces, but they all turn right toward Kieran.
“Kieran! Mr. Knight! You guys came out!”
I think that guy’s name is Rick. Honestly, not 100 percent on that. He writes great code, though. I should make sure I know him. Maybe Kieran isn’t so far off the mark on this one.
“Hell, yeah, we did!” Kieran holds up his hand and high fives Rick, the two of them jovial as they head to the bar for a drink. My phone dings, and I pull it out of my pocket.
“There’s something so gross about meeting someone in a bar. All anyone wants by the end of the night is sex.”
I consider my response carefully. Then I decide to simply go with honesty. “What’s so wrong with that? Sex is fulfilling. It’s necessary for human life to thrive. Don’t tell me you’re not a fan of a good romp.”
I might be acting a little too forward, but I’ve decided to be myself. Might as well ask the questions I want, say what I want to say. After all, what’s the consequence? The loss of an internet stranger?
Tragic.
I glance up and scan the bar. I recognize Lucy chatting up a man in a booth. Across from her, Sasha is sitting on her phone, completely absorbed.
And she called me a millennial. Ha.
A new message pops up, and I’m distracted once again.
“Sex is fulfilling, yes, but when it’s not tied to emotion, when there is no connection, what’s the point?”
I laugh before I respond. “The point is it feels good. Clearly, you’ve never had great sex before. I might have to show you the ropes.”
There is a pause before she responds, and I imagine her blushing, wherever she is. I wonder if the people around her notice I’ve made her blush.
“And how would you propose to do that, exactly? We still haven’t answered the questions to unveil our pictures. I have no idea who you are, or where you are.”
“That’s where sexting comes in,” I type.
“Never tried it. Is it good?”
I love that I’m her first possible sext partner. Sexting is something I happen to excel at. Dirty talk is one of the funnest parts of intercourse.
“It’s outstanding. You get to pleasure yourself, so you know exactly how you like it, but you get to imagine the other person doing it to you. It’s often the best of both worlds, perhaps even better than real sex at times.”
“Are you seriously going to sit on your phone all night now?” Kieran approaches me with a drink in hand, and I take it from him. Whiskey on the rocks, just as I like it. I take a sip and relish in the heat that goes all the way down.
“Don’t worry about me. Go entertain yourself,” I tell him.
He rolls his eyes at me. “You are a child,” he says, then walks away. I’m glad he’s gone. I look back at my phone. There’s a message there.
“I wouldn’t know. I’m actually still a virgin.”
My dick stirs at the thought. If this woman really is a virgin, untouched by any other man… what I wouldn’t give to teach her what sex can be like. She would never know bad sex a day in her life.
What a turn-on.
“There he is! In the corner! Let’s make him talk to us!”
Kieran speaks to a small group of uncomfortable workers, and I narrow my eyes at him as I stand and make my way for the bathroom. I’m just about there when I bump into someone.
“Ack! Can people learn how to not walk into people around here…?” When Sasha’s eyes meet mine, they narrow. “Ah, should have known it would be you. Can you stop literally running into me, please?”
“That’s no way to talk to your boss,” I snip.
I can tell she’s had a drink or two. Her cheeks are rosy, her hair slightly disheveled. She looks flushed and flustered, though I can only imagine it’s because of my presence outside of work. I generally frazzle women wherever I go. It’s a curse.
“We’re not at work. In here, you’re not my boss.”
“Keep believing that and see where it gets you.”
“Keep running into me and see where it gets you,” she counters.
Liquid courage. I can’t blame her for that. The truth is, in this back hallway, she smells really good. Hey eyes are bright, her hair luminous in the light of the bar. I’m reaching a point where I can’t hide the fact that I’m attracted to her, and that is a problem.
“Good night, Miss Ellis.”
“Good night, Mr. Knight,” she says as she strides past me.
I watch her retreating backside for only a moment before I pull my phone back out.
Why hasn’t Angel said anything else?
Chapter Five
Sasha
As I claim a seat on the subway, I hear that telltale sound from my phone, and my stomach erupts with butterflies.
Master! I didn’t hear from him much after we talked about sexting. I was scared to tell him that I’m a virgin, but then I thought, what the hell? If he’s turned off by that, I don’t want to be with him anyway, and if he isn’t… well.
If I hope for better, I might get my heart broken. Keeping my heart safe was what’s generally kept me a virgin all these years, but it’s also kept me from the agonizing pain of a broken heart. I watched enough of my siblings go through that to want to put myself through it.
I can be smarter.
Still, I can’t help but wonder if sexting with Master is a way around all that. It’s personal, of course. Intimate. But it’s not real. The connection may be there, but it’s not at the same time.
I can’t help but be intrigued.
I unlock my phone to check my message.
“Good morning, beautiful Angel. I hope you have a fantastic day.”
Swoon.
I tap the screen and reply. “Good morning to you! You have a nice day, and don’t get into too much trouble.”
“I’m afraid trouble is my middle name. Perhaps I give away too much about my identity by telling you so.”
I laugh, and an older woman casts an admonishing glance in my direction. I pick up my pace as I stride into my building and press the button for the elevator, still not looking up from my phone.
“You certainly have. I now know exactly who you are, mystery Master. You’ve given yourself away far too easily.”
“And here I thought I was being so sly. I’ll have to get better.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I text. “You’re doing pretty well so far.”
“Do you like this app?” he asks.
I hesitate. I don’t want to tell him I’m only on it to do research for work. Somehow, this thing has turned into so much more. What if he hates me for basically using him as market research? Is that what I’m doing?
Why do I feel so guilty?
“I do,” I write back. “I think it’s a unique take on the dating scene. Of course, once the big reveal happens, we might not be so happy.”
“Why?” he posts back. “Because you think I’ll be ugly?”
“No,” I write back. “I just think it will be interesting to see how this all pans out. It’s an entirely new experience for me.”
The elevator doors open, and I drop my phone to my side. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this office, it’s that I have to pay attention where I’m walking. One never knows when the boss is around to try and knock one down “on accident.”
Accident my rear. That man has pummeled into me almost every time we’ve crossed paths. Either he’s incredibly clumsy, or he’s out to get me. I tend to think it’s the second one.
The coast is clear all the way to my office. I unlock the door and step inside, relishing my own private space. When I sit down and pull my phone back up, Master’s response is waiting for me.
“Are you ready to try some of the questions? That way, you can reveal a little more of my picture. We really get to test our trust today.”
A fluttering of nerves shimmers across my skin as I consider it. That’s the whole point of the app, right? To get to the end? To see if one can connect on a physical level after doing so on an emotional level? I can’t very well say I’ve researched the app if I only go in halfway.
“Let’s do it,” I type, and I hold my breath as he prepares a question for me to answer. When it appears, I hold my breath.
“What was your childhood like?”
I grin. That’s a bit of a softball question. I type in my response.
“Normal. I’m one of six siblings from a small town in Pennsylvania. My parents love each other, even now, and generally, I led a pretty sheltered life. My siblings were my best friends, and we spent most of our time playing together. I befriended a few children outside of that, but I was OK with what we had. It was nice.”
When I press send, the app gives me the option to write my own question for him. I type in a question, then press send.
“What do you do for a living?”
It’s innocent enough. I probably could have gotten more in-depth. Do I really want to ask about politics, religion? What his views on having children are? What if I don’t like the answer, and the bubble is popped?
No. I want to keep things a little more simple, for now at least. His response comes in. I glance up at my door, but no one walks by. I feel a little guilty playing with Master on a dating app at my work, but I remind myself that this is part of the work. I’m simply researching. That’s all.
“I run my own company. I work in the technology field.”
The answer is short, and it tells me little to nothing. Still, I watch as the blur on his image clears up ever so slightly. Not enough for me to discern any features, but it’s one step closer to finding out who Master is.
I can’t help but be a little curious, after all the talking we’ve done. His second question pops up, and I read it.
“If I were to ask you to sext with me through this platform, would you do it?”
I should be creeped out by that question. I’m almost a little ashamed of myself for not feeling exactly that. Instead, I’m intrigued. He’s piqued my interest in that arena. Who better to practice it with than a self-proclaimed expert?
Not that I would know any better anyway. I consider my answer.
“I would, under the condition that you explain to me the ground rules, and I can opt out at any time I feel uncomfortable.”
I don’t get a chance to see his reply, because the box to ask my own question comes up. I inhale, and take a plunge, feeling brave.
“What would you do to me, if I were with you right now?”
My heart beats a little faster as I wait for his reply. When it arrives, I hold my breath as I read.
“First, I would make sure you’re comfortable and make myself aware of any ground rules you may have. Then I would slide your panties down your legs and toss them on the floor before lifting you up onto my desk. I’d pull your legs wide apart, open you up to me, and I would slide one finger down the center of your body, stopping right at your tight little virgin entrance. I would start slowly. First, I’d insert my pinky, then switch out each of my fingers until I was certain you could stretch out enough to accept my dick in your pussy. Before I’d take you, I would lick you, inside and around, all over your box, until your legs were shaking with need. Only then would I slide into you, and fuck you on my desk.”
I can hardly breathe, reading that. My vagina tingles at his words, and he’s so graphic I can nearly feel what he’s described as I read.
His picture comes a little more into focus, but the question area disappears.
“I think that’s enough questions for today, don’t you?” he types.
“Sure, though you’ve given me much to think about.”
“I certainly hope so,” he responds.
I can’t think of anything else to say. I can’t really think at all, actually. My eyes dart back to his response, and I read it several times over as the urge to touch myself grows.
“Sasha!”
Booker’s voice echoes from the next room over. I bolt up and stride through his doorway, hoping I don’t look as flushed as I feel. He’s dressed impeccably, as usual, in a tailored black suit. I wish he wasn’t so handsome. I really do. It makes it almost impossible to hate him.
Almost.
“Lucy is working on another assignment, and I need these files put away now. Can you work on this, please?”
He gestures to a small pile of papers, then to a gray filing cabinet. I nod and sift through the papers.
“Is there supposed to be some kind of rhyme or reason to this?” I ask.
“There will be, once you make one, Miss Ellis. What am I paying you for?”
I don’t bother responding to that impertinent question. Instead,
I reach into the filing cabinet and work to discover the organization system in place so I can duplicate it. Perhaps the last assistant was an organized person.
“Well, well, what have we here?”
I turn to see a blond-haired, blue-eyed man staring at me with a suggestive grin. He’s nicely dressed as well, and he looks quite relaxed in Booker’s office, which is unheard of around here. I surmise that this must be Booker’s partner, Kieran Hendricks. I read up on him before starting here, but he looks different from the pictures.
Much more laid-back and carefree.
“This is my new assistant, Miss Ellis. You’ve met her, surely.”
“Surely, I have not,” he says, not looking back at Booker. Instead, he approaches me and holds out his hand.
“I’m Kieran, Booker’s wayward business partner. I certainly would have remembered meeting you, Miss Ellis. Do you have a first name?”
I shake his hand, but he doesn’t let go, instead holding my fingertips as he places a kiss against my knuckles.
I’ve never been more uncomfortable in my life. I can feel Booker’s glare burning a hole in the side of my rosy face.
“Her name is Sasha. Now if you’re done being beyond unprofessional, I’ll ask you to leave so we can get on with our work. Some people actually have to do that to make money, you know.”
That gets Kieran’s attention. He releases my hand, to my great relief, and steps back toward the door. “Low blow, Bo, low blow. Still, a man can see when he’s not wanted. I shall bid you both adieu.” He looks back at me. “I certainly hope we meet again, Sasha.”
“Get out,” Booker growls. Kieran winks at me like we’re sharing some kind of special secret before he disappears from the room. Booker continues to glower at his computer screen, and I turn back to my filing.
It’s not my fault his business partner came on to me. I better not get fired for this.
I wonder what Master is up to right now. Just how far am I willing to go with him?
Chapter Six
Booker
I can’t stop sneaking glances at Sasha. Her eyes are intense and focused as she organizes and files away the documents. At one point, she glances over and catches me staring. My eyes dart back to my computer screen. I’m so tempted to pick up my phone and see if I’ve got any messages from Angel, but I don’t. I would have heard a ding. Also, it’s a work day. She’s probably busy.
