Curves and Mistletoe
Jenny shifted her weight from one leg
to the other and pushed back a strand of dark mahogany hair while
she waited for the President and CEO to take the stage. Every year
at Christmas it was the same thing, a party with free food, alcohol
and implied mandatory attendance. All so that the board of
executives could pat themselves on the back for another year of
bloated profits at the expense of the laborers. And were they ever
invited? Of course not, just upper management was ever in
attendance. Like Jenny.
Phillip Seymour was crotchety old man
who took his time doing what he damn well pleased, so it was no
surprise to the young creative director that he would leisurely
make his way to give the talk that everyone wanted just to get over
with. She was white knuckling her punch, waiting just like everyone
else. Trying not to look as impatient as she felt.
“ This is always the most
annoying part, isn’t it? Waiting for his majesty to get up from his
throne and address the serfs.” A handsome man with a chiseled jaw
leaned towards her, a smile of his face. His muscular stature and
youthful face was betrayed by his jet black hair that boasted a
small patch of gray at either temple. She couldn’t place who he
was, but he did seem familiar so she gave him a weak smile and
turned her attention back towards the stage.
“ Ah, a loyal subject, I
see. Well, forgive me, milady. I just want to skip the pleasantries
and get to the potent eggnog.” He kept chattering away at her while
she tried her best to ignore him. She wasn’t used to such friendly
banter at work, especially from someone so handsome, so despite her
best efforts a grin crept across her face.
“ I see that my efforts have
awarded me with milady’s attention, I shalln’t waste it. Is that
right? Shalln’t? Shall not? Well, whatever. In any case. Do you
want to listen to this old windbag talk or would you rather help me
find where they keep the booze stocked?” His grin was impish as he
winked at her.
She couldn’t believe his nerve, so she
let him know. “How do you put your pants on in the morning? Surely
fitting them over your balls is a difficult task.”
“ True. Very true. But that
is why they pay me the big bucks. To have the big balls. Are you
coming or not?” He seemed too confident for her not to know who he
was; he had to be in charge of something.
Jenny thought for a moment and then
nodded. She really didn’t want to hear Mr. Seymour give the same
exact speech for the fourth year in a row. Not to mention, she was
interested to see what else this mysterious coworker had in store.
He was way too handsome to be interested in her romantically, his
muscular stature just looked out of place compared to her lush,
rounded curves. He was definitely a fitness junkie. So why, out of
all of the people there, did he feel the need to pull her aside and
ask her to go out, alone with him. Especially when alcohol was
abundant at the end of a table.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her
away from the crowd of people, most of them looking directly at the
man, but avoiding her gaze. She couldn’t blame them, he was
seriously hot. Now that she got a better look at him she was even
more impressed. His ass, so tight in his pants, teased her, as he
led her away from the crowd of people. They left the social hall of
the hotel and continued down the hallway, towards what she presumed
was the stock room.
Jenny could see the snow clinging to
the windows. It was just starting to stick but she knew that when
it came time to drive home in the morning, the roads would be
plowed. Tonight, though, it would be far too dangerous to go
out.
Which is why the hotel had been
booked. They had thought of everything in way of showing them a
good time. Which was precisely what Jenny was going to
have.
“ Come on, I have supreme
confidence that the company stock is right here, through the
kitchen.”
“ I don’t even know your
name.” She admitted as she
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