Page 49 of Naughty Nelle

“Oh, baby, yes! Make me come! Oh God! Oh, yes, Yes, YES!” Each breathy “yes” was louder than the one before, the last one a roar so loud I thought the whole office would hear her. Holy shit. This girl was a fucking tiger. Beneath my desk, my cock was applauding. Was this how Ms. McCoy, M.A., came, or was she just a great actress? If the latter, this girl should be starring in porn flicks, not giving script notes.

“Was that loud and clear enough?” she asked matter-of-factly, staring me in the face. A slight blush colored her cheeks.

I felt heated. Flushed and flustered. And I could feel my cock uncomfortably strain against my fly. Fuck this girl. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to work with her, but I had no choice.

Collecting myself, I said, “So, I assume you’ll be able to work long hours. Be on the set if necessary to oversee a shoot. Even at wee hours in the morning.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to do a great job.”

How about a blow job? Or a hand job?I bit down on my tongue.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

She scowled at me. Damn. She was sexy when she did that.

“What kind of question is that? What does that have to do with this job?”

“I’m just curious. Is that a crime?”

“Well, it borders on sexual harassment, and the answer is yes. I have a boyfriend. In fact, a fiancé. He’s a dentist.”

Her tone was defensive. Like she was off limits. I glanced at her left hand. There was surprisingly no ring on her fourth finger. I let it go and instead handed her a thick file.

“What’s this?” She opened the file and gazed down at the stack of papers.

“Your first assignment. This file contains our latest ratings reports. I’d like you to review them and then tomorrow present a full analysis of why our daytime ratings are sagging.” I checked my agenda in Outlook. “Why don’t we say at ten a.m.”

She closed the file and then retrieved her shoulder bag and briefcase. “I’ll get right on it,” she said, rising to her feet.

My eyes glanced down at my desk. “Don’t forget your glasses.”

She twitched an embarrassed little smile. I handed them to her and brushed my fingers against hers.

“Thanks,” she said, nervously setting them back on her face. “And thanks for hiring me. You won’t be disappointed.”

With that, she marched toward the door and disappeared. My cock flexed. I hoped she was right. The word “disappointment” didn’t exist for Blake Burns.

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