Page 72 of Rooster

Me: What's got you so anxious, sweetheart?

I watch in real-time as she tilts her head to the side, growing confused by the message I sent.

With a couple more clicks, I access her webcam, and it gives me the perfect view of her face.

Her fingers hover over her keyboard, but they don't move.

Me: How was your coffee this morning? I hope I made it to your liking.

I know I have her when a slow smile spreads across her pretty face, confusion clearing instantly.

Her: Have you hacked my computer?"

Me: Are you asking if I can see the searches you did the other day?

Pink spreads across her face as she chews on the bottom corner of her lips. Her fingers once again hover over her keyboard but remain motionless.

Me: Let me clear things up for you, sweetheart. I do like you. A lot.

Her smile grows wider just before she looks over her shoulder to make sure no one is paying attention to what she's doing.

Her desk is situated in such a way that someone would have to walk directly behind her desk to observe what's on her screen.

Her: I could get into trouble for chatting with you. We aren't supposed to have any outside links to our computer.

Me: I'd never let you get into trouble, Morgan. Your company can't see what we're typing. I'm better at computers than that.

Her: That's good. Can I be honest about something?

Me: Of course. Always.

Her: I think there might be something to this waiting and getting to know each other before jumping in bed.

I know for a fact that my smile is so broad that some would question my sanity if they came into the conference room and witnessed it for themselves.

Me: Anticipation is an aphrodisiac on its own.

Her: If you're not careful, however, I may end up going a little crazy and locking you in my room forever.

I lick at my suddenly dry lips before my fingers move over my keyboard.

Me: What happens in the room once the door is locked?

She once again looks around, and I know what she's going to type is going to be salacious, and my cock begins to thicken before her fingers move over the keys.

The program I have set up measures her keystrokes, so even though she types out,I'm going to start by sucking the head of your cock so deep into my throat that you'll never want to leavebefore erasing it, I still get to see it.

Her: I can think of so many things. Where would you like me to start?

I contemplate giving her an out. I know if I type back the words that she deleted, I'm going to force her to edit herself in her mind before typing things out.

I take a gamble, imagining her teasing me with her deleted words going forward.

Me: I'm thinking that you sucking the head of my cock so deep into your throat that I'll never want to leave would be a good way to jump things off.

My finger hovers over the send button for a few seconds before I press it. Nerves rack my body as I watch her read what I've typed out. The fact that I can watch her lips move as she reads it sends a wash of stimulus south, and it's my turn to have to shift in my seat.

Her: Oh. My. God.

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