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Lex(127)

By:S.K. Logsdon


So, after our orgasms he looks down to clean himself off with some tissues, that I always have sitting on my desk and we find out I’m bleeding. It didn’t hurt when we were in the middle of our lust-filled moment. Afterward though I was sore, painfully didn’t-want-to-sit-down kind of sore. He felt terrible and I ended up standing for most of the day. It hurt too much to sit down and I couldn’t go home to rest like I wanted. Now he’s texted me repeatedly to make sure I’m all right. Last night Gage had dialysis, and that didn’t stop him from texting me through the entire thing. I was still at work finishing up a file on a lip care product that we’ve never experimented with before. Then last night after I got home he called me; we talked until two in the morning. I was exhausted, but I love to hear his voice. Found out about the Megan incident from this past weekend and that he’d fired her, as much as it might make me sound like a bitch, I’m glad she’s gone. I don’t like the thought of a woman who throws herself at my man, working within arm’s length of him.

Today is Thursday and I rode with Roni to her first baby doctor’s appointment. I’ve never been to a gynecologist. That was an interesting experience, especially when the doctor asked me if I was one of their patients. And if I wasn’t, they were accepting new ones and would love to have me come aboard. Yeah…not going to happen. Didn’t have the heart to tell the doctor that what’s between my legs doesn’t qualify me to see a gyno.

The internal ultrasound they performed on Roni was kind of cool. I got to view the little peanut in her belly. Bob couldn’t make it to the appointment because he’s out of town for two days, picking up some kind of car, or part, something in another state. It’s work related, that’s all I really know.

We ended up being best friend’s baby day, I had fun. Now I’m back at work. I can’t wait until the weekend. I need a break already. This workweek is kicking my butt.



“Well Lex…”

I cut the flirtatious bastard off. “It’s Ms. Keagan.”

“Right…sorry. Ms. Keagan, I’m sure we can discuss the finalizations of this new Saks project over dinner? Say tonight?”

Not on your life, buddy. I’ve been sitting in this meeting for a half an hour and have yet to get a single thing accomplished. Donald can’t take the hint that fraternizing outside of work or inside of work is never going to happen. I hate holier than thou egotistical men who think women, such as myself, should be groveling at their feet, begging them to be their mistress. Pluh-ease! I wouldn’t be with a married man, or beg, even if I was desperate. Which I’ve never been.

I flip through the folder one more time to cool my rising anger.

A knock sounds at the conference room door.

The door opens, and a sexy face peeks around the corner, smiling right at me. Thank God!

“I’m here on official business.” Lawyer Masterson prominently opens the door, sticks out his sexy chest and strolls over to me. Daniel relieves himself from his chair to leave, offering it to Gage. Who takes a seat, drops his briefcase on the table with a loud thump and clicks it open, withdrawing a packet of papers.

I have no idea why he is here or what he is doing, but I’m glad I’m not alone anymore with Donald, who just can’t take a hint.

“I didn’t know we needed a lawyer with these proceedings, Mr. Masterson.” Donald’s face is one of bewilderment.

“Mr. Beardsley, we don’t typically need one for work related conferences such as this. However, I’ve been informed that you have been exhibiting unprofessional like conduct with my client, Ms. Keagan. So I have a few legal documents that I’ve had drawn up for reoccurring instances like this, outlining the new communication agreement with Saks. I just spent the better half of the last half hour talking directly with a Mr. Mathews, one of the board of directors, and he seems as though he agrees with these terms.”

I can’t believe he is doing this! Lawyer Gage. Oh, my, my, my, he is hot and all-powerful. Yummy.

My stomach is tied in knots; I am floored to have him beside me, directing the conference away from the sexually laced innuendos provided by Donald.

Clearing his throat and folding his hands on the table, Donald replies. “I don’t know what you are refereeing to, Mr. Masterson. This has been a professional meeting.”

Gage with a dark, almost deadly smile, leans back into this chair, and steeples his fingers, his elbows on the armrests. “Reeeaallly? Is that why Ms. Keagan received a dozen roses this morning from you?”

Donald’s eyes widen and he scoots closer to the table. “Those are not work related, this,” Donald gestures between him and I and smacks his hand on the table, “is professional.” Donald’s snappy tone is one of irritation.