April 2020
“I want her,” Patrick said as he stormed into my office. “I can’t keep waiting, Jon. Have you seen the dressshe’s wearing?”
I had; I’d also jerked off when Lydia went to fetch my lunch after I had seen up the very short skirt of it while she sat on the leather couch across from me. I didn’t try to see up her dress, but I certainly didn’t try to look away from the tiny purple scrap of fabric, the only thing keeping me from gawking at her cunt.
However, now was not the time to be talking about it seeing as I was on a conference call with six other people. I shot him a dirty look and spun my chair around, picking the corded phone up in the process so I wouldn’t have to keep them on speaker. I sat and listened to everyone go back and forth about the driest shit I’d ever been forced to listen to, something about donations and it being a better investment than the last.
“Gentlemen,” I interjected finally, “I’m very sorry to interrupt, but something’s just come up – I’ll email and touch base with you all later.” Or never. I hated the investments bullshit; it was always for political business or some weird and probably not-quite-legal endeavour.
“What do you think?” Patrick demanded. “If I came on to her do you think she’d be creeped out, or would she be into it? I’d like to make it to fifty before facing sexual harassment charges.”
I groaned and loosened my tie as I lounged back in my chair. He looked frantic, his hair was mused and staticky, his gray suit jacket was misbuttoned, and if I wasn’t mistaken his fly was down. “You were jerking off in your office,” I said flatly, trying to hide my amusement.
He flopped down on the couch and sighed, running both hands through his hair. “Whatever at least I don’t do it under my desk,” he replied with a pointed look.
I grinned and propped my feet up defiantly, flexing my pineapple socked feet at him. “It’s my desk, I’ll do what I want under it.” I unlocked the drawer on the left and pulled out one of the carbon filter cigarettes. The glory of owning my own building was that no one else could dictate whether or not I smoked inside or wore shoes around my office. Christine would shit is she could see me with my feet up, smoking like a chimney, the thought just spurred me on. I exhaled slowly and stared up at the ceiling before continuing, “I think she’d be more than happy if you hit on her, but I don’t condone it.”
He frowned and popped open the mini bar for a bottle of water. “Why not?”
Because I’ve been fantasizing about her for six fucking months. “Well, Bill Clinton, I think it may be unwise to pursue a relationship with an intern, given her position and the fact that either of us has more control over her future than she might realize.”
“I’m not old enough to be Bill Clinton,” he snapped. “And if it was outside of work—”
“Patrick,” I chastised. “Pick someone else, go back to the club and see Corrine again before you do something stupid.”
“Maybe Lydia would like to go to the club,” he said quietly to himself. “I think she’d be down for some weird shit.”
I was five hundred percent sure that she was more than down for ‘weird shit’, I had seen the way she jumped to respond to requests, her avoidance of eye contact, the habit she had of making herself smaller or sitting down every time I stood up – she was, at the very least, socially submissive if not sexually submissive. I had to admit that I liked thinking of her on her knees, looking up at me all wide-eyed with anticipation, but I wouldn’t be disappointed to find out she didn’t care for kink.
Not that any of it mattered anyway, she only had another six months for the internship for me to keep my eyes to myself and avoid jeopardizing my career. Patrick didn’t seem to care in the slightest but with every shitstorm sexual harassment lawsuit I’d dealt with in the past few years I had become weary of the position I was in, and how it could be very easily destroyed by making poor decisions. That didn’t mean that I wasn’t attracted to her, because I did. I wanted to be able to talk to her without feeling like I was crossing a line, I wanted to know what her lips felt like on mine, I wanted to see the pictures she drew that she would sometimes tell me about. I wanted her to not be my assistant so that I could finally acknowledge the tension between us.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” I said finally, flicking my smoke and avoiding looking at him.
“She wants you; you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
Oh, you mean like how she undoes a button every time she leaves the room? No, I haven’t noticed at all. “No, it must be incredibly subtle,” I replied with a snort.
“Come on to her, see how she reacts,” he pleaded. “Break her in a bit.”
“She isn’t a pair of shoes, Pat.”
“No, but I know for sure she wants you, and if she’s into you hitting on her then she might not be so freaked out when I hit on her.”
I scoffed and snubbed out the cigarette on my desk. “You’re being overly paranoid and cautious.” Inside I wanted to show off, to prove that she wanted me and not him but that wouldn’t get us anywhere. And if Patrick was willing to risk everything to try and be with her then he deserved to have her. I wasn’t ready to make that jump.
Patrick’s cheeks went red and he picked at the label on his bottle, trying to busy himself. “Jon, I really like her. Please do this one thing for me, get her all worked up, warm her up to the idea.”
I had to swallow the lump in my throat, but before I could respond there was a knock at the door. “It’s open,” I called, quickly tucking my feet under the desk.
Lydia pushed the door open and glanced from Patrick to me, a slight flush coloured her cheeks. “Sorry, Mr. Harris, but I have someone named Morgan on the phone? He said he needs to talk to you about an auction in Washington next month.”
I struggled not to stare at her tits, the plunging neckline of her lacy crème skater dress emphasized the gravity-defying c-cups. She rarely wore a bra, and I liked to jack the A/C up to see her nipples. “Thank you, Miss Morrison,” I said as I hit the red flashing button on the phone. “Once you’ve gotten in touch with Charles let me know, if you get a hold of him before five you can go home early.”
“No problem,” she replied quickly. She spun on her heel and my mouth watered as I caught a glimpse of her gorgeous ass. “Hello, Mr. Rosing.”
“It’s good to see you, Lydia,” he greeted, a wide smile spreading across his face as he jumped to his feet and walked her out.
I rolled my eyes and waited for him to come back and shut the door again, this time sitting in front of my desk so we were less likely to be overheard.
“Morgan,” I greeted as I hit the speaker button. “Is a date set?”
“Yup,” he replied easily. “The twenty-fourth. I already have your spots reserved; Christine called earlier last week for them.”
“I’m not going with her,” I replied quickly. “Me, Patrick, and I want a third ticket on hold as well. We might have a guest.”
Patrick raised an eyebrow at me as he poured us both two glasses of rye. I ignored him and scribbled on the note pad beside me to get in touch with Christine. I liked to keep her separate from work, I didn’t want Lydia to have any contact with her.
“Did Ike leave the papers for you in Eloise’s room? I need them looked over by the end of the week,” I asked, fiddling with my pen.
“I did,” Morgan answered. “Should I email them back or fax?”
“Fax, I don’t want a paper trail on this until the purchase agreement goes through.”
“No problem, I’ll fax it to your house then leave the original with Ike.”
“Sounds good, thanks.” I hung up without waiting for a response, I knew he wouldn’t mind.
“Is that about the house in L.A.?” Patrick asked, leaning back in the chair and crossing his legs.
I nodded and reached for my glass, taking a long swig before responding. “She wants it, so she’ll have it, but there were some… legal issues, to say the least. It was tied up in a will and a land issue, but I managed to get my hands on the original deed, now I’m just waiting to get the family out. I don’t think they’re going without a fat pocket, but she doesn’t give a shit.” It wasn’t like Christine herself was footing the bill, just me, and come hell or high water I would make sure she got what she wanted. I would always take care of her, whether we were separated or not that was the agreement her father and I had come to when he brought me on at his company. Good old-fashioned nepotism was only costing me about twenty-two million this time around though, not like the last house in Paris that was twice that amount.
“And the extra ticket?”
I rolled my eyes and gestured erratically. “Who the fuck do you think it’s for?”
His eyes lit up and a broad smile spread across his face. “So, you’ll help me out?”
“By the end of the week,” I answered with a curt nod. “Make sure you have your shit together, I don’t want to be the only one on a sinking ship for fucking an intern. And I will fuck her, I’m not doing this out of the kindness of my heart.” I’m doing it because I want to bury my face in those flawless tits.
Patrick grinned and nodded eagerly, jumping out of his chair in the process and dropping his empty cup on my desk. I shooed him out and waited until the heavy door clicked shut behind him to spin my chair around again and run my hands through my hair. I had dealt with countless sexual assault and harassment claims to know this was a poor idea, worse, I knew that there would be a harsher response for her than for either me or Patrick. Not to mention that the board would have my ass if they knew what I was planning.
No matter how I tried to frame it I knew that because of my position in relation to hers that the power imbalance was too high for her to ever really consent. I didn’t care though, every time I saw her beautiful eyes, or watched a blush heat her cheeks my heart would beat a little faster and it became infinitely easier to convince myself that we could make it six more months until her placement ended and I was no longer her boss.
Just six months, if you can make it until the end of her placement without an issue then we’ll be in the clear. I sighed and leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes to drown out the early-afternoon sunlight. We could make this work, we just needed her on board. We. Maybe I could convince Pat to share for a while so I could at least have her once or twice.
Three days later.
I paced my office anxiously as I waited for Lydia to come back down the hall. She had popped another button and I was letting myself finally give into it. Bad idea, horrible idea. I was getting jittery as I started thinking about what I was going to do, but even as anxiety built it was overwhelmed by the pounding of my heart and excitement rushing through me. She was so beautiful, and her smile was just radiant today – I couldn’t not try anymore, I needed to know that she wanted me the way she seemed like she did.
I froze suddenly, hearing the tell-tale clicking of her heels in the hall getting louder. I rushed to the doors and caught her pulling out her ponytail while juggling several folders. Pulling open the door I took the folios and greeted her, “Miss Morrison.”
She smiled happily, gray eyes sparkling and dimples rising on her cheeks. “Hello Mr. Harris, I have the itinerary for your meeting with Charles later and—”
I shook my head. “Cancel it, I’m having lunch with Patrick and I won’t be leaving the office.” With luck, you’ll be having lunch with us. “Call my daughter this afternoon as well, let her know I’ll be late tonight.”
She nodded and pulled out her phone, tapping away on it while making small talk. “Of course. How was your weekend?”
What are you blushing about? “Uneventful, I spent most of it poolside and wishing I was back in New York.” I tried to keep my voice even, not letting on that I noticed her slight shift in demeanour. “How about you?”
Lydia shrugged daintily, a lopsided smile crossing her face. “Oh, just stayed in bed all weekend, you know how it is.”
I chuckled and watched her lean back on the desk, crossing her long legs. My eyes lingered on them too long before I responded, "Sounds positively thrilling. Next time I'll see about bringing you with me, I'm sure you'd prefer a working vacation instead of staying here." I flipped through the documents in my hand, trying not to blatantly watch her from the corner of my vision.
Her eyes flitted over me and I suppressed a grin at the way she was checking me out. "Well I won't be doing much work if that happens, I'll be too busy getting the perfect tan,” she replied easily.
I nodded and closed the folder, steeling myself to make the first move in the delicate dance. “You’ll have to sit in on my next meeting; I need you to keep the minutes.” I watched her closely, pinning her under my gaze.
She tilted her head slightly, assessing me with confusion. “You don’t want me to do the client check-in today?”
“No, it’s not necessary.” My eyes moved down to her blouse, there were almost four buttons undone today. Her royal-purple bra just barely peeked out from under her shirt. “I have some personal matters I’ll need you to attend to.”
I stared for a moment, noticing her clasp her hands behind her back making her chest push out further and strain the buttons on her top. I caught myself and met her amused gaze again, trying not to smile about her catching me looking. Not that I was hiding it now. Patrick had no idea this game had been going on for about two months, and with hope, it wouldn’t end any time soon.
I pulled myself back to reality and gathered up the supplies before handing them off to Lydia. Ushering us both to the elevator made my skin prickle, I could almost feel the warmth of her as we stood too close together, I could definitely smell her lavender and vanilla perfume. My hand moved without my telling it to and suddenly it was on her ass, slowly and deliberately feeling the firmness under my palm. I felt her jump slightly but she didn’t move away.
I leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I may need you to stay late this evening.”
Her mouth opened in surprise and I squeezed, eliciting a small gasp as she replied, “That’s fine with me.”
I chuckled low in my throat at the sound of her unbridled excitement. Glancing up, I noticed the elevator coming to the right floor and straightened up, not wanting anyone to notice anything suspicious. Lydia trailed behind me as I led her down the hall, I knew she hated these meeting - so I usually didn’t include her - but I had a better game to play with her, and this one required a captive audience.