Lincoln
When she spins around, her nipples are hard, poking out.
“Come over here.” The coffee cups are sitting on one corner of my desk. She sits down in the chair in front of my desk.
“What do you need, sir?” She looks like I’m going to pull out an iron maiden or something.
“I want to talk to you about your emails.”
“What emails?” I can see her pulse pick up in her throat.
“The ones that you’ve been sending to your best friend, Kelly.”
Her face gets a little paler. “I can’t…you haven’t…did you read them?”
“I did.”
If possible, she grows even more pale.
“I can explain.”
I motion for her to continue. Her hand goes to twirl a curl around her finger.
“I just…I can’t…”
I stand up and put a finger on her lips.
“I read all of them.”
“And that’s the reason why we can’t act on your little fantasies. Like the one where I pin you against the wall and make you come even when you tell me to stop.”
“You read that?!” she squeaks. “I haven’t even sent that one yet.”
“I read them all, the ones you sent and the ones that are drafts. They’re all on your corporate email, so you have no reasonable expectation of privacy. You’re very imaginative, Camilla.” My tongue caresses her name.
“What’s going to happen now?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” I stood up. “I want you to take off your skirt.”
“But I…but you just said…sexual harassment policies…”
“Now, Camilla.”
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