“I didn’t get you fired.”
“Bullshit,” I retort. He had something to do with it. “But what you’re going to do is get me another job, or I’ll keep making your life difficult. As you can see, I’ve got the time to invest in doing it.” He has to have something for me to do around here. He owns a freaking building, for God’s sake. Who knows what else he owns.
“How old are you?” he asks.
He shoots me a look that tells me he knows I’m full of shit. “Old enough,” I finally say.
“Do you really whore yourself out?” he asks, making his way over to me. I’m shocked when he easily lifts me from his chair, sitting me on his desk and sliding himself between my legs.
“Why? You looking?” I ask. Why would he need a hooker? A couple of the girls from the shelter make easy money selling themselves. I’ve never been that desperate, but I understand why they do it. I don’t judge them for it. My life hasn’t been as rough as some of the other girls’. I lucked out. Might be shitty luck but it’s still luck. I bet women fall all over him, so I don’t understand why he would need to pay to get laid. Whoever this Chelsea is, I’m sure she’d give him some. “No. Honestly, I’ve never whored myself out, but maybe if the price was right. Maybe if I was desperate enough.” Pausing, I look up into his eyes. He presses against me, and I can feel his cock is hard. “Does it make you hard thinking you could buy me? What do you think virginity goes for these days? Maybe I’m in the market to sell after all.”
My fists grip my desk on either side of Rebecca’s legs, and I stand between them, with my thick cock pushing against her. My body is trembling at this touch, and I won’t be able to last much longer. I’ve never been this close to a woman’s body before.
Her words finally sink in and I realize, not only is she a virgin, but she’s offering it up for a price.
“Are you seriously offering to sell your body to me?” I question, disgusted with myself for actually thinking about taking her up on her offer. I think about sliding myself into her and making her mine. I don’t know where these thoughts are coming from. I’ve never had these feelings before. I’ve always been able to suppress every desire I’ve ever had. She’s different, and she doesn't understand that she’s baiting me.
“Look, Vanilla,” she snaps pulling me from my thoughts. “You cost me my job today, and the rent is due. The way I see it, your big guy down there is pretty interested in making a deal. So how about we talk numbers. Wanna make me an offer?”
Before I lose my temper completely, I let go of the desk and take a step back. I need some distance from her. The thought of taking her still playing around in my mind and her sweet smell aren't helping. “I will say it clearly, and for the second time. Rebecca, I didn’t get you fired.”
“Liar,” she says, and leans back on my desk with her palms flat on the glass behind her. She’s smudging up my pristine desk and making a mess of my organization. She’s trashed my office and flipped my schedule for today completely upside down.
Getting to the position I’m in today requires rigorous control and scheduling. I just so happen to be a type-A who gets anxiety when my schedule is off even for a moment. I suffer from panic attacks when I feel a situation is beyond my control, but surprisingly, right now, none of those emotions are present. At the moment, I only feel raging desire, which is as unfamiliar to me as my current situation.
“You won’t call me a liar, Rebecca.” I’m breathing hard, but now that I’m not touching her, I can try to put together this mess. Maybe some of the blood flowing to my cock will return to my brain. I can do this. Just take it one step at a time.
“First, you need to put my shirt on.” I say, and reach down to pick it up off the floor. I approach her again, but I’m careful not to touch her when she takes the shirt from me. After it’s in her hand, I take a step back so I can distance myself from her pull.
“News flash, Vanilla, I’m not putting that shirt on. You can get over it or die pissed, it’s not happening. Now let’s talk about you getting me fired.”
“Fine. If you insist on not wearing anything, we’ll have this discussion like an adult talking to a child.” which seems ironic, because without a shirt she looks nothing like a child. Lush and curvy in all the right places.
“Oh, Daddy play! Now you’re talking.”
I clench my fists at my sides to keep some control. Who does she think she is? No one speaks to me like this. I stare at her for a split second and all I can think is how her pink, plump lips look so kissable that I want to trace them with my tongue.