Double Dare(62)

And flicking on the computer, I was able to log in, relieved to find that all my old passwords worked. I kept myself busy for a while, arranging my stuff in the new cube, re-reading the Employee Handbook, settling in when suddenly a new message flashed onto my screen. Clicking the icon, an email from Nick Smith popped up.

Come to my office, it said.

I frowned. Who the hell was Nick Smith?

But another email appeared right after it.

I’m waiting.

And I immediately blushed. Of course. Nick Smith was actually Nick Martin, Mr. CEO. He had more than one email account because it was very likely that his official account was handled and monitored by the beautiful and efficient Jeanette.

So I got up and straightened my dress, heart pumping. Slowly, I slipped my feet back into the violet pumps and made my way to Nick’s office, already feeling oddly warm and liquidy inside. Of course, his pretty secretary was waiting, staring at me like I was an alien and not a new employee who’d been introduced just an hour ago.

“I’m here to see Mr. Martin,” I said formally.

“I don’t have you on the schedule,” the blonde sneered. “Are you sure it was him?”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Mr. Martin called me? I got an email from his shadow account, I can show it to you?

But an old-school buzzer rang on her desk and Nick’s disembodied voice floated out.

“Jeanette, could you send Ms. Jones in please? And pour us some coffee too, will you?”

I smiled victoriously then. Not only had Nick invited me to his office but Jeanette was going to be our waitress. If you asked me, it suited her perfectly, although the ugly frown on her face wouldn’t be getting her any brownie points.

But once inside Nick’s office, the blonde was all smiles, bowing and gracious.

“Oh Mr. Martin, I didn’t know you were expecting company,” she cooed. “Just a moment, here’s your coffee. You like it black, right?”

And Nick watched with a bemused expression, all elegant masculinity as the blonde poured the steaming liquid like a geisha, swift with a sure hand. But that sure hand lost its grip when it came to me. With a shriek and a small “whoops,” Jeannette managed to upset my cup so that the steaming brown liquid splashed all over my dress, leaving me with an ugly wet spot on the chest.

“Oh I’m so sorry!” she cooed again, “Here, let me help you,” she said taking a napkin and rubbing all over my bosom, forcing the stain into the fabric.

I grabbed her wrist tightly, holding it away from me.

“I’m fine, thanks,” I said tightly, my eyes shooting daggers at her. But Nick stepped in there before we got into an actual catfight.

“Jeanette, thank you so much, I’ll let Ms. Jones use my private bathroom to get cleaned up,” he said smoothly, his tone betraying nothing. And sure enough, there was a door to the side of his enormous office. “Ms. Jones, please,” he said nodding his head. “And Jeanette, thank you, I’ll be ready for my five o’clock soon.”

“Of course!” chirped the blonde. “I’ll let you know as soon as they’re here,” she warbled, elegantly walking out the door, coffee pot in hand.

Meanwhile, I was a dripping mess. I almost cried, the coffee already turning cold, the material sticking to my skin clammily. My purple sheath was ruined and I’d be out a pretty penny – it’d cost me a hundred bucks on sale at Nordstrom and I couldn’t afford to replace it.

“I … I guess I’ll just use your restroom and try and get some of this stain out,” I mumbled, looking at the floor.

But there was no reply from the big man, merely silence. I chanced a glance up and what greeted me took my breath away. Because Nick was staring at me like I belonged to him, hungry, ravenous, his eyes eating me up.

“Ms. Jones, we meet again,” he growled by way of introduction, prowling to my side of the room. And immediately, my nerves went into overdrive, my pussy moistening automatically.

“Yes, Mr. Martin,” I said in a small voice. “But I need to clean up. I paid a lot for this outfit and it’s done for,” I said in a small voice.

But Nick just growled again.

“I’ll get you a new one, two new ones,” he rumbled, his eyes going up and down my form, once, twice, three times, eating me up, lingering on my breasts and hips. “Take it off, it’s garbage now.”

And I gaped at him.

“But what am I going to wear?”

But Nick didn’t appear to hear, or care.

“Take it off,” he commanded, his gaze like fire on my breasts and ass. My cunt positively gushed under the heat of his stare.

“What?” I whispered. “Right here? In the middle of your office?”