Page 16 of Loving Leo

I’m not ready to die yet.

FIVE

Leo

I’m amped up on my way to work tonight. Did Heath watch me last night? I left him with quite the show, if I say so myself. God, it was amazing. I couldn’t help but fantasize about the buttoned up, grumpy CEO as I fucked myself with the massive dildo.

Did he know I was thinking of him when I did that?

It probably never even crossed his mind. He’s bothered by me, probably doesn’t even like me and yet I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s becoming a real problem. My dick doesn’t even want in on the action unless I’m thinking about him.

I can’t live like this and yet I have no plans to stop either.

I never was good at resisting what I wanted, even if it is bad for me. And I’m pretty damn sure this is bad for me.

It makes for a very addicting personality, not that I’m addicted to Heath. Just the idea of him, of taunting him.

I scan my card, greet the security guard in the lobby and grab my cart, pushing it through the barren hallways of the building, my anticipation of entering his office growing. My views on my videos havebeen increasing in number and I’m loving the money that I’ll eventually have deposited into my account, but it’s still not enough for me to quit this job. Not for a while. But that’s okay. It’s not like it’s really a hardship and fantasizing about Heath is kind of an added little bonus.

I wasn’t raised to be lazy. I don’t mind a little hustle.

I know that some people think I’m kind of a loser for working this job and camming, but both are hard work. They aren’t for the faint of heart. Whoever thinks that is a judgemental asshole and probably never had to work for anything in their entire lives.

Not everyone can afford college, or is even good at traditional education. Hell, not everyone even wants to go to college. I read an article the other day—yes, I read—that trades are actually a great way to go. Not everyone is made to sit in a classroom every day just to get a degree they may never use, or hell, end up making less than I do cleaning offices.

Which is why I chose nursing. I considered a trade for a while, but I happen to be doing pretty well in my classes and look forward to making it a career one day.

Either way, Iama hard worker. It’s why I have two jobs. It’s why I work here.

Heath is just a nice little distraction from it all.

As I think of him, I pat my pants, feeling the bag of candy in there. Sweet Tarts, a perfect treat for him. I bet he’s sweet under all that tart.

As I make my way down the floor that houses his office, I do my job quickly, emptying trash, wiping down surfaces and vacuuming. I don’t notice anyone around, the lights all turned off. Not that I’ve ever really seen anyone here this late.

As I make my way to Heath’s office, I see a dim light coming from a window overlooking the hallway. My heart stutters and I feel my hands grip the cart tighter.

What if he’s here? Waiting for me?

The Sweet Tarts sit heavily in my pocket as I push the cartforward, skipping a few offices in my haste to get to him. I can always go back and do those on my way out.

It’s fine. Booger office can wait.

I stop the cart right by his office door and then step toward it, opening it slowly, holding my breath as I take him in.

He’s sitting in his office chair, his tie loosened, his hair slightly mussed.

His dark eyes snap up to meet mine and I swallow loudly.

“You’re working far too late, mister,” I say, my voice slightly husky.

“I’m guarding my office,” he retorts, leaning back slightly and looking far too edible at the moment.

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that. You know I’m always respectful of your space.”

His eyes narrow slightly and his fingers tap an uneven rhythm on the arm of the chair.

“Is that what you think respect is? Jacking off all over my desk? Sticking a dildo up your ass on my leather chair? If anything, that’s not respect, that’s a biohazard.”

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