Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I sighed and let my face fall in my hands. Part of me wanted to just give up now. I could quit and everyone would be happy. My dad would probably buy a freaking cake for me if I ever left The Squawker. My mom would support me because she’d think it was what I wanted. My friends would understand. Jasmine would understand more than anyone, and she’d probably be able to help me get my footing in a new career.
But damn it, I didn’t want to quit.
I didn’t want to let this man chase me out of my job. This was my magazine. I’d spent two years here working for this. Why should he get to show up and chase me off just because he was a stuck up prick?
Worse, this asshole had already played a major part of fucking up my life once. I owed it to him to at least be a pain in his ass. So I shook out my frustration, pulled up my task list, and reminded myself of the plan.
I was going to be an absolute badass. I was going to dominate every assignment. I was going to make him stay up late at night trying and failing to think of any possible reason to fire me, because I was going to be his best employee. Maybe it was a small form of payback, but it was what I had.
I stiffened when a big figure passed my desk and left a wave of amazing scent in its wake. It was Dominic, of course. He was walking up to the window of his office and peering in. The cute guy in overalls had moved inside the office and was doing something loud in there.
I was watching Dominic from the back when he turned and caught me looking. I expected him to glare, but there was something else in his expression. He looked almost… frustrated. He peeled his eyes from mine and stormed back through the office toward the elevator with anger radiating from every step.
I amused myself by trying to guess what was up his butt now. Maybe when he picked up his coffee this morning, he didn’t manage to make the barista cry? Or maybe he hadn’t come across any babies or puppies to kick on his way into work?
Whatever his problem was, I decided it was a good thing. A man like that deserved to be frustrated. If the universe wanted Dominic to be annoyed, I’d happily do everything in my power to help, too.
6
DOMINIC
My newly renovated office was more my style. I had the beige drywall clad with posters replaced with wood paneling. A floor-to-ceiling bookshelf now dominated the wall across from my desk and the floors were covered with thick, Turkish rugs. I ran my palms across my new desk, appreciating the smooth, unblemished finish.
Then I sighed as the damn image floated into my mind again. I pictured her from a few days ago sitting at her work station with her skirt zipper down just enough to show me that she was wearing a red thong. I’d already taken more of a look at her tight ass as she’d walked off toward her desk than I should have. The vision of the thong completed my mental image, and all I’d been able to do the rest of the day was fight off the fantasies of teaching her who was really the boss here by having her come to me on her knees. I pictured that tight ass of hers from above with nothing but the thong on as she looked up at me with her big eyes.
I’d cup her chin and lift her eyes to mine. Then I’d tell her to do her fucking job and suck her boss’ cock.
But even in my ill-advised fantasy, I couldn’t completely picture her as submissive. In my fantasy she talked back all the way to my cock, even stopping to bust my balls before sliding me deep between her lips.
I pinched my nose and brought a fist down on the desk.
Focus, asshole. This wasn’t like me. I wasn’t the creep who developed sexual fantasies about his employees. Why should I be? I could’ve gone out into the city as soon as I got off work and found a woman at a bar if I wanted to get my dick wet.
Sex was fine, but it didn’t drive me. It never had. I was driven by the desire to prove myself. I wanted to make this business hum like a well-oiled machine, no matter what my dad thought. If not for the scandal three years back, he would’ve happily kept me from any real responsibility within his company. He needed me for now, and I knew this was likely my only chance to grab my share of power. Eventually, I’d be out from under his thumb, and The Squawker was my only ticket to that future.