Page 26 of Bigfoot Boss
“Give me one more week,” he urges softly. Between his warm hand on my side, and the ache between my legs, I realize that I can wait another week for my money if I get a couple more tastes of this.
“One more date isn’t going to kill me,” I admit, and he rewards me with another long tender kiss before sending me home completely alone.
15
NOT BE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY ACTIONS
Bailey
It’s a lot easier to enjoy your job when you don’t think your boss hates you. I still fuck up several times a day, but I’m a lot less nervous about being fired now that I understand my boss is just awkward because he wants to jump my bones, and in one more week, I won’t have to worry about any of that anymore.
Work remains incredibly busy, which is a great distraction. The big contract Sacha has been working on all month is being finalized, and everyone is on edge all week. Still, every time he smiles at me, or puts his hand on my back, or says my name, it feels like my stomach might drop out of my body.
All three CEOs are in the office on Thursday. Mr. Pleasant’s mostly nocturnal lifestyle means he doesn’t keep normal office hours. He uses video conferences for almost all of his daytime meetings, so I’ve never seen the Mothman in person before. His large eyes are bright red in person, and his wide black moth wings look buttery soft. He’s taller than I expected, almost as tall as Sacha, if you include the expressive antennae that wave above his head.
They keep the light-blocking shades drawn during the meeting so the light doesn’t bother Mr. Pleasant’s sensitive eyesight, masking the room in shadows. I sit diligently at my bosses’ side during the long boring meeting, proud of myself for resisting the urge to pull out my phone and play Merge Mansion. Sacha rotates his chair until his thigh presses against mine, and he leaves it there. The touch has the warmth of his body seeping into my knee. It brings a little heat to my cheeks and…other places. I shuffle nervously as the contracts are signed and notarized.
When it’s done, there’s a satisfied feeling in my stomach. I barely had anything to do with this project, but I know it’s a load off of Sacha’s mind, and it’s nice to see his hard work pay off. I like the feeling of a completed task.
“We’ll see you at Moonshine after work, Sacha?” Magnes asks as he steps toward the door. “We’ll be putting the drinks on the company tab. I don’t want you skipping it.”
“I’ll be there.” Sacha reassures them, not moving from his chair.
I stand to follow the others, but Sacha motions for me to hang back as everyone else vacates the conference room. He gestures for me to step a little closer, and I lean against the conference table, shifting my armful of supplies—a laptop in one hand, my coffee mug in the other—so that I’m close enough to hear his quietly spoken words.
“Will you be joining us tonight, Ms. Thorn? Cryptech likes to make a show of appreciation to the staff after a big deal is closed. There will be an open bar for employees.”
“I thought I’d come out for a couple of drinks.”
“And are you still satisfied with our deal, Ms. Thorn? Or are you ready to extract yourself from the contract?” His eyes remain on the papers in front of him. So disinterested in me that, for a moment, I’m not sure which deal he is talking about.
I glance around the still dim, empty, conference room. There’s no one else around, the door is closed, people passing through the hallway walk past the tall open windows like we aren’t even here. We’re alone now. It’s the perfect chance to tell him I want to break up, to take his money, walk away, and never see him again. Never hear my name on his lips again. Never feel his hands touch me.
“I’m satisfied,” I say quietly, then bite the inside of my cheek in frustration. Damn my hormones. That is not what I was supposed to say. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?” It occurs to me that this may be why he wanted to speak with me, until he looks me up and down with a gaze so heated that I could almost certainly complain to HR about it.
“No, Ms. Thorn.” He tilts his body in my direction, his hand skirting across the conference table, stopping right beside the edge I’m leaning against. I stare at his hand as one long finger moves toward me and grazes against the outside of my thigh. He strokes gently up and down, fingering the fabric of my skirt. The almost incidental contact makes my whole body tense. “Do not anticipate me changing my mind about you. You wore the purple skirt again?” he asks.
“You did mention before that you appreciated it, sir—” My breath catches when I try to talk, and then my nerves have more words spilling out of me. “I bought it secondhand, I found it on a website that specializes in plus-size clothing, it can be really hard to find things that are work appropriate and fit me at a lot of normal stores, not to mention things that actually look cute, and fit in my budget.”
“And it hugs that round ass like a glove.” He stares at the place his hand touches my body, shaking his head slightly. “If I see you wearing this skirt to the office again, Ms. Thorn, I will not be responsible for my actions.”
“What actions?” I ask carefully.
“I’ll have no choice but to lock you in my office, bend you over my desk, and bury my cock in that sweet-smelling pussy.” He growls.
“O—o—kay,” I stutter out the syllables without thinking of anything except how much I would love for him to do just that.
“Okay?” he asks quietly. His chair rolls just an inch in my direction, and suddenly, I can hear my heartbeat in my ears.
The conference room door opens, the lights flick on unexpectedly. Sacha is already leaning away from me, his hands back to their appropriate place on the table in front of him.
“Sorry, Mr. Kwatch,” a dark haired woman walks into the room, “I was sure we had the conference room scheduled at three today.”
“Don’t worry, we’re leaving.” Sacha says. “I was just clarifying a few items with my assistant. We can finish this conversation later, Ms. Thorn.” He waves a hand in my direction.
I nod, unable to form a syllable. My mouth feels frozen closed, and I hurry past the people standing in the doorway, escaping to the relative safety of my desk.
16
