Page 8 of Call Me Sir

I groan as my toes curl in my skater shoes. I bet my boss hates how informally I dress.

Why does the thought of his disapproval turn me on more?

Chills tingle at the base of my spine. I can tell I’m close.

I’d love for the boss to grab me by my hair and swivel me into the cool tile. He’d ram me in the ass so good. Too good.

I’d have to bite back my moans so they wouldn’t echo in this little room.

I’m so lost in the moment it takes me a moment to realize what the clicking of the door handle means.

It means I forgot to lock the door. And instead of rushing to lock it like a sensible person, I watch in horror as it opens and I find myself standing face to face with my boss. His eyes widen in surprise as he looks me up and down. I drop my phone and it clatters on the ground.

I’m standing bare ass against the tile, dick in hand, hair a mess and blinking without a sensible explanation of what’s happening. Not that it’s sensible by any means.

“Oh,” is all he says.

Shit.

I snap out of my horror and drop my dick, which is worse though because I don’t immediately go soft. Instead, my hard dick swings a couple of times before sticking straight out between us.

“I…”

We’re both frozen in this moment of pure awkwardness. The haze from pleasure is completely lifted and burning shame pours into my chest and creeps into my cheeks.

“Fuck.” I bend down to pick up my pants.

As I’m about to pull them on, Salvatore steps closer, his breathing raspy.

“Stop.”

I freeze in place, the shame still pulsing through my body. I stand back up and look him in the face.

There’s something burning in his eyes. It’s not disgust as I expect, but something else… There’s something in the hitching of his breath and narrowing of his eyes that tells me he wants me. It’s pure, unbridled passion.

Except, he’s not gay, is he?

“Tell me to leave,” he says in the huskiest voice.

I blink trying to understand what’s going on here. I’m standing with my pants halfway up my legs and my dick out.

My boss is ordering me to tell him to leave.

“No.”

What am I doing?

“Stay.”

Huh?

“Who was that in the car with you?”

Biting my bottom lip, my mind is reeling. “The guy I hook up with on my lunch breaks.”

There’s a question in his eyes. He wants to know if he’s about to fuck something special up.

“On occasion.”

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