Are you Stalking me?

Seven

Beyonce Knowles
"Can I try something?"

"Goodmorning Beyonce." Carissa preppy voice ringed through my ears as I made my way into my working area.

I turned to face her, "Good morning."

She smiled and handed me a thick packet of papers.

"Sent form Mrs Maraj, she wanted you to write about whatever is in those papers."

I looked at her, "When is the deadline?"

She shrugged, "She told me everything you need to know is in the packet, if you have any questions ask her or Dorothy."

I nodded, "Where is everybody?"

"Probably late, since today is an holiday for some."

"Holiday?"

"Well for the company it's sorta considered a holiday, it's when Onika agreed to hire interns. Surprised you didn't know."

I nodded and watched Carissa walk away, if anyone didn't know better that'll think that was Onika from behind. But of course I knew the difference. But Carissa still had a body to make my boxers a little sticky if I looked at it for long.

I wanted to explore her valley. Not as bad as Onika's but I wanted to try something.

Wanted to do some very unholy things to that woman but still remained oblivious to the fact that the sex wasn't just sex for her.

I knew she wanted me, from the second Onika brought up her to me randomly. I knew my name was once or twice brought up in their conversations.

I wondered how long she could hold it if I told her to.

"Beyonce?"

"Hm?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Carissa grinned.

"You're a beautiful woman, I told you that before."

"That look isn't "you're a beautiful woman" look. You looking at me like you wanna give me a baby."

"Well, are you fertile?"

"What? You can't get me pregnant no way. We'll have some cute babies though."

"I don't shoot out blanks, if i'm not mistaken."

Her eyes fell down to my lap and back up to my eyes, but not before her eyes quickly tracing over my lips.

"In the office? Or my house?"

I smirked, "Your house. That desk isn't big enough for what I want to do to you."

She froze, clutching her legs together, "Don't talk to me like that, or we gone have to take a trip to that poem."

"What poem? You read poems?"

"Desire by Hughes."

I smiled, "Thought only the older generations knew of that one."