It's always good to have a close working relationship with your boss. But what if you want to be closer? More importantly, what if the feeling is mutual? AU.
I'm standing by the front desk, trying not to stare at Nina Bennett as she escorts a client, surely the last for today, out of her office, leading him down the short walk towards the main entrance of the floor we're on. Even from where I'm standing I can see her nipples protruding against the flimsy material of her white blouse. It's the middle of summer and the ladies at the office all have on something flimsier and shorter and more revealing these days. Nina is no exception. How nice for me.
The client has finally left, and Nina is looking through a file as she walks back towards her office. I'm fighting the urge to walk over and block her path mid-step and kiss those succulent lips of hers silly, grip her waist while I'm doing so, kneading her flesh like a masseur working his client. She's coming closer, black Louboutin stilettos clicking on the tiled floor, her head still down as she continues to peruse the file. A whiff of her perfume catches my nostrils. Fuck. Now I have to deftly shift positions so she can't see how surfboard stiff I am for her.
I know what you're thinking. I'm a pervert. I wonder how you'd feel if I told you she's my boss.
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When I was first introduced to Nina over a year ago as the new Head Manager of the Strategy department of our company, I wondered privately what a girl pretty much the same age as me knew about marketing a brand that rivaled the UFC. But that was before I discovered she was the daughter of the owner of the company, an MMA legend in his own right. Nina is only a year older than me, but she has far more experience and business savvy in her pinky finger than I can ever hope to attain in my entire two hundred plus pound frame. She grew up surrounded by the business and fell in love with it. She helped expand the health clubs and gyms the company owned all over the nation, took the merchandise worldwide. The cool thing I learned about Nina was the great deal of scratching and clawing she had to do to get to where she was today, disregarding her father's name, starting from the very bottom and was now inching closer to the top with her position as the Head of Strategy. It's been a similar struggle with my own life, and to know it's something we both share makes me feel closer to her.
Nina walks past me, reaching for the door handle leading into her office. She's tired, but she still looks so beautiful. Her skin is the color of butterscotch, smooth and creamy and makes me want to lick her all up like a cat would with a bowl of milk. Her lips are plump and pouty with that familiar shade of red lipstick that does things to me, and on more than one occasion I've imagined that sexy mouth panting my name in ecstasy. Her pixie cut suits her to a tee. I'm not usually drawn to women with short hair – most of them end up being intimidated by how long mine is – but Nina pulls it off with such grace and beauty, like the haircut was invented specifically for her. She has a lithe, athletic frame, no doubt inherited from her father, accentuated with wider hips, a juicy-looking ass that always looks fantastic in whatever she wears, and long, slim legs that I can stare at all day long. But it's not just her gorgeous body that sends me into a tailspin. It's her eyes. Wide and brown and expressive and always seem to look into my soul. When she smiles, the corners of her eyes crinkle in a delightful way and the sparkle of possibility radiates like a heat-seeking missile toward my heart. It's kinda scary how attracted I am to her, even though I know it's wrong on many different levels.
