Jenny

 

I never did spend another night in that crappy little flat. Not over Christmas, nor the New Year, nor ever after.

Mr Hart surprised me. He liked crime drama, and ten pin bowling. He liked Mexican food from a restaurant in the centre of town at least once weekly. He liked early morning walks in the park at the bottom of his estate, and he knew all the different kinds of trees.

He liked long baths on a Sunday evening, and the scent of tea tree. He liked reading business books aloud and pondering quotes from philosophers.

And me.

He liked me.

Loved me. That’s what he told me at midnight on New Year’s Eve, right while my mum danced with David at the other end of the crowded bar.

I didn’t even wait a breath before saying the words right back at him.

And so that was us, and we were in love.

Just us, and Dick Whittington on timeshare when he fancied making an appearance from his original house down the road.

January turned to February, and February turned into the beginnings of spring, and my dirty stories kept filling his cloud drive, and still he kept on demanding more.

I was happy to oblige.

He was more than a boss, and more than the man I’d wished for in all those Daddy please notes to Santa. He was a friend I could laugh with in quiet sleepy moments before bed. He was a lover who taught me all the dirty delights the office gossip had promised. He was a chef, and a film night buddy, and a masseur at the end of a long working week.

He was my everything.

It was early March when he offered me the promotion to his Executive Assistant. I’d stared open-mouthed across the meeting room table as he outlined the job description in the presence of both his senior accountant and leading client relationship manager.

I’d looked from him to them and back again, wondering if this was really for real, and more importantly if it was really deserved, but he’d read my mind even as I’d pondered the question.

“No, Miss Morris, this isn’t because I’m sharing a bed with you. Quite the opposite. You’d have probably been promoted already if I wasn’t.”

That’s the other thing I’d come to learn about Jackson. His bluntness knows no limits.

There was never so much as a hint of secrecy around our relationship status. He’d made it known we were dating on the very first day of the new work year, holding back nothing as eyebrows went up right through the business.

They didn’t stay raised long. Gossip is never as interesting when it’s spoken loudly.

I must have stayed open-mouthed for quite some time before I mumbled that I was flattered by his promotion offer.

“Do you want to know the salary details before you make your decision?” he’d asked across the table, but I’d shaken my head.

“No. I’d be honoured to take the position, thank you.”

His smile told me he was as pleased by my acceptance as I was.

He’d pulled me to the side once his colleagues had wrapped up business, keeping us back in silence until we were alone in the meeting room.

“You’re the perfect fit for the job,” he assured me. “I couldn’t trust anyone more.”

I trailed my fingers down his tie as he stared down at me. “I’ll do my best,” I promised. “Always.”

“Of that I’ve no doubt, sweetheart.” His smirk lit up my world. “But this afternoon I’m going to ask you to leave your professional standards at the door. I want you to be the shittiest employee in the building while the quarterly planning meeting is being held.”

I pulled a face as I attempted to fathom his meaning. “You want me to be crap at my job?”

He laughed a filthy laugh. “Just for today. There’s one little document on the Jenny’s stuff drive we haven’t managed to explore yet.”

I thought back through the list.

We’d done his office, many times. We’d done the office kitchen before the office day started. We’d done his car, and the park by his house, and every single room in his place, including his garage.

We’d done everything I’d ever dreamed up on that list and more.

But apparently not, because he dismissed me with a kiss and a wink and nothing more than a promise of later.

I couldn’t hold back the excitement as the morning travelled by at a snail’s pace. My foot was tapping under the desk as I worked through my logistics schedule for the coming weeks, mind wandering through the potentials all the while my clit jingled.

I really was acting like a crappy employee, but I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.

Nobody can work effectively while they’re desperate to stuff a hand down their knickers. Not even me. Even though I’m learning my work ethic from Mr Work Ethic himself on a daily basis.

Kristina was groaning across the office, frazzled as she slammed her keyboard in her preparations for the super meeting, and Kay was sighing loud as the printer reported a backlog.

I should have been finalising my own paperwork, but instead I was all jitters and tingles.

My mouth was dry when we all filed into the meeting room, barely meeting Jackson’s eyes as he took his seat at the head of the table.

I listened as intently as I could manage as the head of warehousing kicked off the quarterly recap, scanning through my printed minutes in a bid to anticipate when I’d have to put my crappy employee foot forward.

It came quicker than I expected. We were barely into the previous meeting’s round up when Jackson’s mobile phone blinked and whistled on the table top.

He gave an apology to the room and got to his feet, instructing the department heads to continue in his absence as he took an urgent client logistics call.

And then he looked across at me with the twinkle in his eyes that always set my pulse racing.

“Miss Morris, if you could please accompany me. There may be some questions about your division.”

I grabbed my paperwork before my cheeks could drop me in endless shit from my co-workers. Rosy cheeks never lie, Kristina bleated at least twice weekly, and she was right.

I dashed out of the room behind Jackson as he raised the handset to his ear, but it didn’t stay there long.

We were barely round the corner before the bulk of him pinned me to the wall and his mouth met mine.

“You wanted this,” he said between kisses. “You specifically said you sought the thrill of your co-workers being within hearing distance when I pounded that tight little cunt of yours.”

“It was a fantasy…” I breathed. “You can’t really… not within hearing distance…”

He nipped my bottom lip before he pulled away. “You’ll just have to watch that dirty little mouth of yours for volume, won’t you?”

I doubted that would be a possibility. Not if he was pounding me at anything even close to full depth.

I knew our destination the moment his fingers twisted in mine and tugged me to the right.

The stationery cupboard is always unlocked, with glass-panelled doors baring the interior to every passer-by in the corridor. I hissed as he opened the door and pulled me right inside with him, but he only laughed, pressing a finger to his lips as he gestured to the meeting still going on just the other side of the rear wall.

“Quiet,” he whispered as he hitched me up against the racking. “I’ve been thinking about this since Christmas Eve. You painted quite a picture in your story.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t mean… not really… the noise…”

The pens rattled as he pinned me hard, just to illustrate.

“Have you any idea how painful it was to wait for an all staff meeting I could ditch halfway through?” he asked, and the devilment in his eyes gave me shivers.

“They’ll hear,” I protested, but his fingers were already hitching up my pencil skirt.

“So, let them hear,” he grunted, and I couldn’t fight the way his thigh felt against my clit as he pinned me tight.

I tried to hold back my whimpers as he rubbed hard on target, biting my lip when he broke the contact enough to flip me over.

My tits pressed into the shelving, legs unsteady on silly office glamour heels as he eased my thighs apart. The tear of fabric sounded loud in the room as he ripped my knickers clean off at the hip, and my pussy was wet and waiting as he sank two fingers straight in.

I was getting better at this stuff.

“Your cunt betrays your protests,” he growled into my ear.

I heard the rustle of his suit trousers as he freed himself. I murmured expletives as the head of his dick pressed to my pussy lips.

The racking thumped as he thrust all the way in. I couldn’t stop a groan as he bottomed out deep.

“Fuck, yes,” I hissed. “Fuck me, Mr Hart, sir. Please just fucking fuck me.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart,” he said.

He wrapped my hair around his fingers and tugged tight, bouncing me against the racking as he fucked me hard enough to take my breath. His palm ground against my tingling tits, teasing my nipples through my blouse as I rocked back to meet his thrusts.

I was already halfway there when his thumb brushed my clit and set me on fire. The pens were rattling and the shelves were thumping and I didn’t give a fuck that the meeting was going on in the room next door.

I didn’t give a fuck for anything but my gorgeous CEO’s dick and the way it took my pussy hostage in its quest to consume me whole.

“You’ll need discipline for this later, naughty girl,” he hissed. “Distracting me with your dirty office fantasies. We should be in the meeting room right now.”

“I’ll take the punishment gladly,” I hissed right back. “This is worth being a crappy employee for.”

And it was.

It fucking was.

He clamped a hand over my mouth as the orgasm ripped through me, stifling his own grunts in my hair as he followed me over the edge.

And then we laughed. Breathless and ragged and euphoric as his dick twitched inside me.

“Your meeting calendar doesn’t quite pair up with my ovulation calendar,” I whispered in the aftermath. “We’re in the danger zone today.”

He kissed my cheek and I could feel his smile. “My bad, sweetheart. You might be juggling suburban mummy bliss with corporate excellence well before you were anticipating if I keep making these fuck-ups quite so often.”

It was his bad.

Always his bad.

And we were destined for disaster sooner rather than later, but I didn’t care about that either.

I’d had plenty of opportunity to deflect the risks during the previous months, yet never seemed to find the desire to implement any actual contraceptive method.

“Mid-march,” I commented as he smoothed down my pencil skirt. “If I catch now it’ll be mid-December when I’m giving birth to little Hart junior.”

He nodded at my reasoning as he put his dick back in his pants.

“Mid-December, yes.”

How the grin lit up my face.

“You really would be a Christmas daddy next time round,” I said.

He was grinning even brighter than me as he took his dick straight back out again.