Capturing Connie

Steven 10

I couldn't believe how she had sent me away. Walking down the hallway, I'm fuming and people noticeably avoid my path. My hands are shoved in my pockets again, something I learned helps control my fists from flying into the nearest face. And the last thing I need to see is Johnson with his stupid look of pride.

I clench my fists as I get into the empty elevator. Fucking brat has me mixed up inside and I hate it.

This whole thing is simply a contract between us, with fine print she won't find out about until it's too late. But the idea of her going back to him makes me want to shatter his skull with a single flick of my finger.

I'm holed up in my office for the rest of the day like a hermit. I haven't done a single productive thing today. Of course, Connie Mahaswaren is completely to blame. The corner of my mouth twitches as I imagine bending her over my knee for being a bitch earlier.

God, that creamy brown skin and leaking cunt has my skin literally burning and my cock throbbing. The way she moaned with those little squeaks, breathless words and needy gasps made my heart flutter in my chest. Everything about her is delicious. Just thinking about her makes me want to stroke my cock.

She drives me fucking insane. The back and forth is making my head spin and I lean back in my chair, trying to calm my raging boner by not thinking arousing thoughts.

Like her. Screaming my name as I fill her to the brim and then past.

Fuck.

At this point, my pride has vanished and I take out my phone, asking if she got rid of him and if she's okay.

I try to run my fingers though my curls, but the shower from this morning combined with the sexual sweating I was doing earlier made my curls tighter so the action is for naught. Still, I want to pull my goddamn hair out imagining her with him.

I'm fine. Thank you for your concern.

Her answer provokes a laugh. I can't help it. She was just having a dirty work affair and now she's back to formalities? This woman really is a rubix cubes of sides.

Are you with your ex?

God no.

She answers quick and to the point and my heart pounds in my chest as I finally inhale. I must have been holding my breath. Fuck, no. I do NOT care about this fucking woman. She's just a stepping stone in the corporate ladder. I just need to fuck her first.

I cant get my mind off of what you did earlier.

She doesn't respond for so long I become agitated, doubting myself for sending that text. When the hell do I ever second-guess myself? Grabbing a pen, I tap it against the edge of my desk, the rhythmic sound loud and grating on my nerves. I don't stop, though. It's better than listening to myself think so goddamn much.

I'm sure you could if you tried a little harder, Steven.

I drop my pen on the floor the second my phone even begins to vibrate to respond.

Maybe next time I should have you do it in front of a mirror, so you understand how one does not just forget something as sexy as you fucking yourself.

I smirk, knowing I've changed the mood of the texting and excited for her answer.

I know, I'm pretty fucking incredible. Bet you wish you could say the same... 

My smile fades. I haven't dealt with a brat in almost 5 years. I didn't know she had it in her, but of course, I'm learning more and more about her everyday.