I clammed my legs together as tight as I possibly could, trying to earn some relief.
"Babygirl, I asked you a question."
"I-uh-"
Michael locked the door, then pulled the blinds down on the windows.
I looked up at him, he was now sitting at his desk and tapping his fingers impatiently on the wood.
"We were discussing the situation you've caused, baby girl."
"Situation?" I say.
"Yes, May, our situation."
My breathing is shaky, as are my knees.
"I don't know what-what you're t-talking about."
"Don't play coy babe, you know what you do to me."
I blushed, embarrassed. Michaels black shirt hung loose off his shoulders, but his jeans hugged his skin perfectly.
"This is really inappropriate, sir." I say.
All Mr Clifford does is smirk.
He uses his pointer finger to push my chin up, so my eyes meet his.
"But what are you going to do May? I see how you look at me, how your pretty legs are always pressed together when I'm around, you know you want this sweetheart."
I was left shocked and a little bit afraid that someone had paid that much attention to me.
"Am I correct?" He goes on, "or have I just completely misjudged friendliness with flirting?"
"No sir; you're correct." I state, suddenly being hit with some confidence. I trace my thumb over the back of my other hand, and bite my lip.
Mr Clifford smirks, and licks his pink lips.
"You're dismissed, May." He says while softly lingering his hand over mine.
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