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Chapter One
Wiping the perspiration from my top lip, I rushed from one side of the office to the other.
Picking up the phone, I cleared my throat. “Hunter Designs.”
My gaze traced the long room, empty except for one desk and a photocopier. The light green carpet was supposed to be reminiscent of grass, encouraging employees to relax amid the chaos of work life. Except, I was the only one who worked in the office. And I was definitely not relaxed.
“Could I speak to Joseph please?” a stern female voice asked.
Ah, his mother.
Trying not to sigh, I swallowed the disappointment that squeezed my throat. I’d been practising my make-up in the toilet, bored as I waited for the boss to give me my next assignment. His mother was not going to distract me enough to fill the void. Working for Joseph Hunter had been a mixture of pressure and boredom. I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue.
“Certainly.” Clicking the intercom, I waited for Joseph to answer.
Once his smooth voice came over the line, I clicked the button and put the call through, not even bothering to tell him that his mother was on the line.
Their chatter began and I replaced the receiver, not bored enough to listen into their conversation. I’d done it a couple of times, when business had been slow, just to give me something to do. They spoke about mundane things. Gardening, painting and the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
Picking up Joseph’s latest interior design, I cringed. He’d been commissioned to design an office in someone’s posh home. The footprint of the place was ten times bigger than the apartment I rented with my roommate. In fact, the proposed office was as big as our apartment. Lucky son of a bitch.
Would Joseph actually go to the job? Or would he leave me to do the hard work, as usual?
I’d been his PA for three months now and not once had I met my boss face to face. The secrecy was a touch strange… who was I fucking kidding? It was bonkers. Who in their right mind would work for a man who never showed his face or turned up to do his job?
As the red light on the phone flicked off, I sighed and sat back, kicking my legs. I’d emailed Joseph an hour before, asking what plans he wanted me to take on the job tomorrow. There was no point in asking him whether he’d be there. Shit, what the fuck was I doing?
Every day I was either bored or working to a tight deadline. He gave me no notice when he wanted his designs transferred from drawn to digital. I had to sit in the office, all alone, staring at my high-tech computer screen. I couldn’t even blast my music in case people from the offices above complained. My probation was almost up, and quite frankly, I wasn’t sure I could go on.
Shoving myself away from the desk, I threw my head back against the chair, clenched my fists and screamed. At least if someone came in to check on me, I’d have some company. The boredom was like a torture method. Even though I’d mentioned my frustration to Joseph – through email, of course – he’d done nothing to change the situation. His jobs were so few and far between, I was surprised he could afford to hire me.
“What’s a girl to do in a room on her own?” I muttered, glancing around.
When my gaze landed on my handbag, a zing of excitement churned in my belly. I’d stayed with a friend last night and she’d gifted me a new vibrator. Okay, so I’d been single for a while, and I’d been moaning about it, along with my worktime boredom. Apparently, that was the cue she needed to not only order me a clit stimulator discreet enough to tuck into my bag, but to give me the advice to have some alone time… in the office.
Glancing at the clock, I sighed. I had four hours until home time and it didn’t look like Joseph was going to ask me to do anything any time soon. The recent design plans, which were rough and scribbly, weren’t ready yet, according to the email he’d sent me first thing this morning.
What was a girl to do with four hours of free time? I’d already scrolled Facebook until my thumbs were sore. I’d finished the latest Colleen Hoover book and downloaded another from my favourite independent author too. My eyes needed a break.
Yep, it was time for some alone time fun. Who was I kidding? I was always a-fucking-lone.
Grabbing up my bag before I talked myself out of it, I dug out the box and opened it. A rose shaped clitoral stimulator. Nice, I’d always liked roses.
Smiling to myself, I looked around, just to check that there wasn’t an invisible person in the room, because you know, that happened sometimes. Nope, I was safe.
I sat back in my chair, fuzzy all over from the prospect of giving myself an O at work. The thrill turned me on more than I’d thought possible. Lifting my legs, I placed my ankles on the desk, letting my knees spread open. My skirt automatically fell up my thighs, giving me space to tuck the oval shaped vibrator into my lace underwear. Another jolt of naughtiness slipped through me, making my pussy wet.
Once the plastic cupped over my clitoris, I released my breath and pressed the on button. The suction started straight away. I gasped as it sucked on and off, on and off, faster and faster. The intensity of it made me grip the arm of the chair with my free hand. Shit, the bastard was good, sending tingles flying through my clitoris and into my pussy. In fact, it only took a matter of seconds before my head was thrown back and I was groaning out a delicious orgasm.
Fuck. Me.
Panting, I sat forward and giggled, suddenly feeling like a naughty schoolgirl who’d masturbated over a sexy gym teacher. Not that there’d been anyone to imagine or the time to think of anything, the clit stimulator was a god all on its own.
The laughter started to abate as the come down of the orgasm sent me into a spiral. I ripped the vibrator out of my underwear and threw it in my bag, narrowing my gaze on it in accusation. The bastard thing had touched me more than any man.
According to society, a plain girl with thick, slightly frizzy wavy hair and terrible make-up, didn’t belong in bed with a real man. My friends had accused me of being too talented and intimidating. Which was a nice lie, really.
Being a horny virgin at the age of twenty one in a world of social media and suctioned – ironic – bodies was fucking tough. I was wasting my time, alone in a dingy room, with no company… no one to chat to, to chat up… or to even share a smile.
