Page 16 of Toy Shop

A great fucking place to work, run by yours truly. That’s why, when I received David’s email on Tuesday night, I shot him a response to rebuke her withdrawal, ordering to have her here at the scheduled time.

She deserves to work here. I set out a rule long ago: I’d never let my personal business interfere with my job. Nola wouldn’t be the exception to that rule, and I wouldn’t be the one to rob her of it.

Jessica Wang, our finance director, pushes open the glass door into the conference room. She wears a tanned silk blouse and black pants, her black high heels clinking on the granite floor.

She joins David, and me, who arrived early, both of us in gray suits and white shirts. Jessica takes a seat next to me around the oval blue-glass conference, the three of us facing the door. We both stop our idle chat about the coming election to greet her.

“Morning, Alistair, David.” She arranges the questionnaire for Nola on the counter in front of her. Jessica tucks her long, thick hair behind her ears, giving me a quizzical look. “Isn’t this,”—she waves in a circle indicating the three of us—“a touch overkill? To interview someone for an intern position?”

She’s not mistaken. Normally, one of David’s subordinates and the direct manager are in charge of these procedures. Not today.

Good thing I anticipated one of the two high-ranking managers to question my last-minute RSVP, where I demanded they move around their meetings to attend this interview.

“Miss Vickers is an employee our company would be fortunate to hire.” I angle myself toward her since David is in the know about this already. “She canceled her application yesterday, and I’d like to have her reconsider.”

Jessica raises a thick eyebrow. “By stressing the poor girl and having management interview her? Pretty sure it’ll send her packing, not running in our direction.”

“No.”

I might’ve considered Jessica’s opinion, had I not met Nola before. I could still feel her leaning into my touch, reveling in the attention I gave her. How she submitted and offered herself to me when I doted attention on her. She’d appreciate having the three of us here. It’d reflect well on the company, of our values.

“By showing her how serious we are, I hope to convince her to consider us.”

“You’re the boss.” She shrugs, then her eyes widen by a fraction; her lips tug in a polite smile. “Let’s put your theory to the test.”

My head swivels to the hall where Jessica’s gaze is fixed. Nola arrives in an elegant stride, her wavy hair bouncing. Her pearl-white shirt and honey-colored pants accentuate her curves, her heels making her tits sway.

If I wasn’t mesmerized, I’d find it disconcerting how drawn I am to her. What’s worse is my cock swells as I remember the breaths she struggled to take while under my hold, how her cunt squeezed me.

“Yeah.” I correct my wandering gaze to her eyes, swallowing against the rising tide of arousal. “We shall.”

The three of us stand to shake her hand, introducing ourselves one at a time. I’m the last in line, half-smirking at the waver in her confident demeanor. I’m not the only one still riding out the effects of our class a week ago. Nola is, too.

“Alistair Cromwell, founder of the company.” I outstretch my hand, which she accepts. The smooth skin of her palm molds into mine, causing a shiver to break across my arm. It’s pure luck I manage to hide it. “Nice to meet you.”

Her brow raises. “Nice to meet you as well.”

She remembers. Is it as vivid for her as it is for me?

“Please, have a seat.” David gestures to the chair in front of me, breaking the moment no one but Nola and I are aware of.

When the four of us are seated, he continues, “I must start by stating your resume impressed us, all three of us. We imagine someone else has beaten us to a woman who was at the top of her class, so we appreciate you giving our company a fair chance to interview you and outmatch said offer.”

Her large brown eyes slant to the side briefly, a crack in her self-assured attitude. Both of us are cognizant of her withdrawal reason. It had nothing to do with working for a competitor and has everything to do with me pounding a butt plug into her ass.

Nola pushes her shoulders back, chin angled high, eviscerating her hesitancy.

“That’s why I’m here.” Nola glances at the three of us, lingering on me a second too long.

The rest of the interview goes by sans interruptions from my end. I listen in on David’s inquiries about what drew Nola to economics and this company, where she sees herself in five years. Afterward, Jessica fires finance questions regarding projections, budgets, excel tables, and other aspects of the profession.

Nola doesn’t flinch, stumble upon any question, or pause to think. She goes head-to-head with Jessica, coming out on top.

Her moans and ass and breasts were just the appetizer. Her brain, how put-together and insanely clever she is, snaps at my restraints. I’m reeling as I sit there, fantasizing about walking behind her, pulling on her hair, sucking on her neck, sticking three fingers into her while her throat bobs up and down.

While she’s answering Jessica.

My Nola.

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