by Misti Murphy
Myra’s standing in the shower with me, half naked and staring at my groin like she’s dying for a taste of my lollipop.
Nope, I can’t say no. I can’t turn it off. Not now. Not when this feels so damn right.
With my shoulder propped against the wet tiles, I slide my left hand around her waist and pull her to me. She comes willingly, wrapping her arms around my neck and standing on tiptoe. “I’ve wanted to kiss you properly for so long,” she mumbles against my lips.
She has? Well, hell, I’d better give her what she wants. After all, my lips weren’t damaged in the fall, and they’re as eager to find out if this forbidden treat is as sweet as I anticipate it will be.
I cant my head and open my mouth, flicking my tongue against her bottom lip. She gasps and opens for me, her tongue teasing mine while I sweep inside her mouth, exploring, discovering the honeyed taste that is all Myra. She’s delicious, and I want so much more.
I want her tit in my mouth.
Breaking the kiss, I press my palm against her lower back while I lean forward, kissing a trail along her neck, down across her chest to the prize. That dark, rosy, hard-as-an-eraser nipple. I suck it into my mouth greedily; Myra arches while letting out a guttural cry that shoots straight to my groin and bucks my hips like this is the first time I’ve ever had sex in my life.
Her fingers scrabble against the waistband of my shorts, sliding between the material and my skin until they brush against my rigid cock and I let out the same damn noise she did.
“My Supergirl.”
She doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at me. Her entire focus seems to be on the bubble of pleasure we are creating. She tugs at my shorts, pushing them down over my ass. My cock springs free, bobbing enthusiastically while she pulls away from me so that her nipple leaves my mouth with an audible pop. Bending at the waist, she carefully extracts my bad leg from the shorts, but she doesn’t straighten right away. Instead, she drops to her knees before me, her mouth inches from my aching member, her hands on my hips. It’s a glorious sight, one I never thought I wished for, yet right now is my greatest fantasy. Maybe it’s the whole forbidden fruit concept. Maybe it’s the fact I can’t remember the last time I got a blowjob.
Or maybe it’s Myra.
She lifts her gaze, finally looking me in the eye, and I very nearly shoot my load right there. She’s perfection, utterly gorgeous with her blonde hair plastered to her head, those big, blue eyes blinking against the spray of water behind her. She looks…aroused. Like she wants this as much as I do.
“Yes,” I whisper, as if she’s asked a question, or maybe it’s there in her eyes.
Dropping her gaze, she opens her mouth while her fingers dig into my skin, and then her lips are wrapped around my cock and she’s swallowing me down, and it’s just like my damn fantasy from this morning. It even feels exactly the same.
I try to cup her head with my good hand, but I can’t maintain my balance, so I press it against the shower wall, close my eyes, and allow Myra to do whatever the hell she pleases. Which pleases me. Hoo boy, does it. So much so that I’m about to lose it and she’s only been working me for a few minutes.
Gasping, I try to push her away, to warn her that my cum is about to coat her throat if she doesn’t stop, but all that does is make her latch on tighter. And then she’s sucking me in and out as fast as she can, her hands cupping my ass, holding me steady, and there’s no way in hell I can stop now.
“Ngngow!” The noises I make don’t even sound human as she pulls the orgasm out of me and I explode with the force of a freaking B52 bomber. “Christ.” I fall back against the wall, my one good leg unable to hold me up anymore. Myra gradually slows her ministrations until she releases me and moves away, turning to face the spray of water before climbing to her feet. Without looking at me, she shoves her shorts down her legs. Her rounded ass is so damn creamy and flawless, I have this irrational urge to spank her, to leave a red handprint on her skin. And then I want to kiss the reddened skin, massage it for a moment before sliding my hand between her ass cheeks and running my fingers along her seam until I find her nub. I want to stroke her there while I ease myself into her from behind, and I want to slide in and out of her at a leisurely pace, torturing her while bringing her pleasure at the same time, until she’s mindless and begging me to go faster. And I will, pumping as urgently as she was sucking me off a moment ago, until her inner muscles contract and she screams as the orgasm tears through her body.
How the hell am I supposed to do any of that? I have one good hand and one usable leg, and that leg’s shaky at best. I can’t even keep myself upright. Hell, I can’t bathe alone, not that I’m not appreciative of Myra’s help. In more ways than one.
But I can’t reciprocate, and it pisses me off because if we’re going to shift our relationship to this level, if we’re going to break the rules like this, I want it to be worth it for her. I want it to be perfect, to give her everything she deserves, and at the moment, I can’t give her a damn thing.
Son of a bitch, this is karma. It’s biting me in the ass, reminding me of what a louse I am. I’m her boss and I’ve just taken advantage of my admin in the worst possible way. I’ve changed the dynamics of our relationship in a way that we probably can’t ever bounce back from. This is so much worse than Larry and Marge. I’m the owner of the company, for Christ’s sake. How the hell am I supposed to expect my employees to follow the rules when I don’t?
The icing on this incredibly inappropriate cake is that I should let her go now. I shouldn’t continue to ask her to stay on, to try to find ways to keep her with me. It’s the most logical thing to do. When her two weeks are up, she can move on to whatever new career choice she chooses, and this will eventually become nothing more than a distant memory. One I’ll be fond of forever, but no more than that.
Except that’s not what I want. I don’t want her to leave. In fact, I want more of what we just did. I want to pay her back in kind, twofold. I want to do it again and again until we’re exhausted, until we’ve burned as many calories as running a marathon would.
And I want her to stay with the company.
But she can’t. I can’t. We can’t. This thing, this monster I’ve just created, it won’t work. It isn’t right.
I don’t know what to do. All I know is…
“Myra, we shouldn’t have done that.”
Chapter Nine
MYRA
“Don’t look at me like that,” I say to Simon as I place the carafe full of coffee for the latest interview on a tray along with cream and sugar and a box of McVitie’s Chocolate Digestives I found in James’s pantry. He’s been a fan of them since I first introduced him to this small taste of home. Though he always says they have nothing on the cookies I bake. “You have no idea how hard this is.”
Kitty sticks her nose in the air and looks at me with disdain. I don’t know why she’s giving me attitude since I’m the one who fed her and let her stay in James’s house despite his insistence she be tossed out. Also, I put up those damn flyers on every light post and street sign in a three-block radius.
“Meow,” she responds.
Although the noise she makes is less meow and more conversation. Like she actually thinks she has the answer to my problem. If only that were true.
“Well, what do you think then? If you’re going to be so vocal about it.”
“Myra, are you coming?” James calls from the living room. I cringe. Yesterday morning, pussy wasn’t the only surprise. Now, I can’t make head nor tail of the situation. The brightest moment in my life, and all he could say is we shouldn’t have done that? I got down on my knees for my boss. Down. On. My. Knees.
“Meow.” Simon lifts one dainty paw and begins to lick, her gaze never deviating. Her tail curls up and swooshes behind her like a question mark.
“You were there.” I keep my voice low so that James and company won’t overhear. “He wanted it as much as I did, didn’t he? So why is it such a mistake to him?”
>
“Meow.”
“I should give up. Take that job in London. Forget any of this. I could start doing the things I’ve always wanted to.”
Simon blinks and then shifts her focus to the pink pads of her paw.
“I suppose you’re right.” I rip open the box of biscuits and bite into one. When I imagine traveling, I see sharing a hotel room with him. When I think about my to-do list, he’s always on it. With a mouthful of digestive biscuit, I point the rest of the treat at the cat. “It took five years to get to this point. I shouldn’t give up on him when he’s only starting to come around.”
Simon moves on to another paw.
“No, I need to up my game.” I put down the rest of the cookie and find a plate to pile the others onto. “Yesterday morning made it pretty clear that he’s not completely oblivious. That thing. What we did in the shower.”
“Meow,” she agrees.
I pick up the rest of my cookie and shake it in her direction. “Don’t meow me. We both know it’s too sensitive a matter for your pointed ears.”
“Myra?” James calls again. He’s probably not used to me making him wait while I talk to a cat. Even I’m finding it slightly unusual.
“Coming.”
“Meow.”
“Don’t be so devious.” I lower my voice. “And besides, how much I enjoyed what happened in the shower isn’t the debate, is it? It’s whether or not I was simply the closest person who could help him with his needs. He was pretty clear he didn’t plan on it happening again.”
I pop the rest of the cookie in my mouth and pick up the tray. I’d told him I’d been holding out for him. I told him I’ve wanted to kiss him for what seems like forever, and he pulled me into his arms. He kissed me. Sans Johnny. It was all of my fantasies coming true.
The cookie gets too chewy. I have to swallow hard to get it to go down. I was so darn happy in that shower as I climbed to my feet, my lust-soaked brain running through the positions that would make it easy for him to slide into me despite his injuries. Why can’t he see that we’d be great together?
“Meow.”
“Not another word.” I shake my head at Simon as I carry the coffee into James’s living room. Hopefully, this interviewee will be the one that fills my position when I’m gone.
James is set up on the couch, his bad ankle cradled by a pillow on the coffee table; the easiest way we found to make it possible to balance his laptop. His shirtsleeves are rolled up to the elbow, and the breeze from the air conditioner ruffles his dark locks. One finger disappears between his throat and the two buttons undone at his collar as he draws his attention from the screen to catch me entering the room. Those blue eyes watch me until I put the tray down on the coffee table in front of him. Damn my heart for skipping a beat when it sees him.
“You’re available to start this afternoon?” He shifts his focus to the man sitting on the edge of the chair across from us, and I busy myself with fixing the coffee.
“I came prepared to get straight to work,” Alexander replies, putting down his leather case and adjusting his tie for the twentieth time since he arrived.
I check out my replacement from beneath my lashes as I wait for James to set his laptop down on the couch before handing him his coffee. I spent yesterday morning on the phone with temp agencies, begging them for the cream of the crop, and they sent me a pile of digital résumés to pick through. It didn’t take long to narrow his choices down to a bare handful. Okay, okay, it’s hardly ethical, but I couldn’t stand the idea of Mindy with her big boobs and her cashmere sweater sets being James’s right hand. And Anastasia’s short skirt and legs that belong to a Russian supermodel weren’t coming anywhere near my James either. I might have to help find my replacement, but I draw the line at finding his future trysts.
Alex is quite handsome, I suppose. Young though, and a little eager. Like a puppy that wants to lick your face and pee on your carpet at the same time, which will irritate James in short order if it’s anything more than first day jitters. I’ll have to make sure to have a word with the kid while I take him through keeping James happy.
James was happy for those few minutes yesterday. Not in the way an assistant might make him. I certainly can’t imagine him looking at Alex that way if Alex were to offer him a blowjob. Pleasure rippled over James’s face while I sucked his cock, and for a few moments after the fact, it really seemed like it was more than just getting off.
How do I get him to look at me like that again?
“Myra?” James’s fingers touch mine, and it’s like an electric shock, knocking me sideways out of my daydream. “Are you ready to show Alex the ropes?”
“Of course.” I’ve gone from covertly studying Alex to outright staring, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by either party, and while our new recruit smiles at me as though he’s used to women staring at him, James’s expression is more calculating. His narrowed gaze shifts between us and his jaw moves from side to side. He sees most things…well, business related at least. But that was before we shared a shower. What does he see now? Would he tell me if I asked him? Would he still be stunned if I told him just how much more I want from him? But Alex is staring at us, so this definitely isn’t the time.
“On second thought, perhaps we should wait until Chloe gets back.” He flicks a glance between us. “Your schedule doesn’t really leave space to train my new assistant properly. You’ve got your hands full these next two weeks. And, Alex, you could start at the office with one of our secretaries. That way, you’ll only need Myra to train you on a few things. That would probably be for the best.”
“What? No, James, I’m quite happy to do it.”
“You don’t have time. Alex needs office experience, and I need you here.”
“I can go into the office with him. You have Garrett dropping by shortly and that conference call in an hour.”
“Fine.” He exhales, clenching his jaw and crossing his arms against his torso as he leans back into the sofa cushions. He’s more than a little frustrated. It can’t be Alex already, or he wouldn’t be talking about training him. It has to be something else. Perhaps his injuries are causing him pain, but I know he took his medication because I gave it to him.
“I’ll ring Barbara and tell her you’re coming in.” To Alex, he says, “She’s the head of our human resources division. She’ll have all your paperwork for you to fill out, and she’ll set you up in an office for the rest of the week.”
“Why not put him at my desk?” After all, Alex will be taking over for me in just a few short days.
“Could you give me a minute, Myra?” James leans forward and clasps his knees. “Would you mind heading over to the office now, Alex?”
Alex nods and pushes out of his chair. “I’ll drive straight over.”
“I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes,” I tell him before he departs, then I turn on James. “He should have my desk. Unless you have an issue with the new hire. Do you think he won’t last?”
“No issue with him,” he grudgingly admits. “But he doesn’t get your desk.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” I fold my arms across my chest. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m leaving the company. He’s your new assistant.”
“You haven’t left,” he murmurs.
“What? I’ve resigned. I’ve told you I’m not interested in being a partner.”
“Yes, you have.”
He slides his hand around my knee, pulls me closer. “You have told me that. And yet you picked someone who will never be able to do your job.”
“What?”
“That kid’s an intern at best. There’s no way he can juggle your workload. And the other two I talked to were worse. What were you thinking when you shortlisted those three?”
That they wouldn’t make James fall in love with them. That I wouldn’t have to hear six months from now that he’s marrying my substitute because she has some quality I don’t. That I wouldn’t be replaced. Which is why I shouldn’t hav
e put them on the list at all.
“Maybe I was distracted,” I admit. Sidetracked by the way his body responds to me physically though he tells me it’s wrong. Trying to work out what I’m supposed to do with that information.
“Like you were just now?” He raises an eyebrow as he glances in the direction Alex went before settling those deep blue pools on me. “You’ve been pretty distracted recently, and I think I’m starting to understand why.”
A weight lifts in my chest. I’m almost giddy. I can see myself reflected in his eyes, and I have to catch my breath. They make me dizzy. I feel like I’m falling. “You do?”
“I do.”
“James.”
“You said you’ve been holding out for the right guy,” he interrupts.
“I have,” I rush to agree. “I’ve been waiting such a long time for—”
“Is it biological?” He drops his gaze to my waist. His face is mere inches from my belly, and his hand is wrapped around my leg. “Are you ticking?”
“Excuse me?” My voice is slightly high pitched. We’re talking about babies. That’s what this conversation is, right? Babies?
“Is your biological clock ticking? Has all my mother’s talk about babies made you clucky, Myra? Are you holding out because you’re looking for someone to marry and have babies with?”
“How? I don’t understand how you could come to that conclusion.” I’m standing here, anticipating that he’ll tell me he finally realizes he has feelings for me, and he boils it down to “your womb is desperate”? I don’t know which disappoints me more: that he’s never going to love me or that he’s objectifying my ovaries.
“Easily.” He brushes his thumb along the inside of my knee. “We’re not getting any younger. And you’d make a great mother. It would make sense of why you don’t want to be my assistant, and why you don’t want to be a partner.”
“Would it? Does it?” James can be awkward at personal interaction, but this is beyond the pale. “Because the only thing it’s doing is making you seem like a complete tosser.”
