AMANDA
It's a Friday evening, and there's a get-together at Remington Inc. to celebrate another milestone: record high profits, and the end of yet another successful year. It's well underway when I arrive wearing a low-back silver dress with my hair in a sleek ponytail.
Familiar faces swarm the party room, and I greet those whom I know and smile at those I don't.
Tristan's not here yet.
He's in his office right now, toasting the latest corporate merger with the rest of the executives, a successful venture that has been two years in the making, and is guaranteed to rake in several billion pounds for the company.
In the presence of the other executives, shut in behind the heavy oak doors of his room, he's a cold, corporate shark. He's ruthless, and all business.
Tristan Remington works harder than anybody else in the company.
But every evening, he shakes the gritty dust off his corporate life, and gets ready for playtime.
And the thing about Tristan Remington? He plays just as hard as he works.
And I've become this man’s favorite playground.
We usually end up at his place so he can take work calls during the evening, but we've ended up at my place too. We've been gorging on each other. It's like we can't get enough.
Sleeping with the boss is sexy.
Going to work every day for him is sexy. Talking to him about work is sexy. Being taken over --- and under, on top, back, front --- in short: all positions --- by him is sexy.
Even the danger of getting caught is sexy.
"If anyone finds out I'm with you, they're all going to think I've got an unfair advantage. That I got ahead because I slept with the boss," I told him last night when we were at my place.
"And they'd be absolutely right." He touches a finger to the tip of my nose.
I smack his chest.
"Oh, you --- "
He laughs softly, and catches my wrist, winds his long fingers around it, bends, and kisses my knuckles, one by one.
"You're intelligent and hardworking and you're easily the best Marketing trainee we've ever had. You'd be on your way to the top, even if I weren't in the picture. I've seen your work, and it's outstanding." He kisses me sweetly on the lips, and traces hypnotic, beguiling circles around my bare belly. "Even though I have to admit that" --- he cups and fondles my breasts --- "this beautiful body is terribly distracting, and I am finding it extremely hard to continue expounding on the brilliance of your mind, my darling..."
...............
"Amanda, you're looking hot tonight." Debra is grinning at me. "That's quite a change from that bedsheet garment thing you had on the other time."
"You're looking hot yourself, Debra."
She's in a red, slinky thing, and it accentuates her lush curves to perfection.
She preens a little.
"You think so? Let's hope he notices."
My heart clenches.
"He?"
She smirks.
"Mr. Remington. Our totally hot, grumpy boss."
Sally sniggers.
"He had you transferred back to Marketing, Debra. After one day."
Debra glares at her.
YOU ARE READING
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