questioning look at me. I feel so ill, I want to be sick. When everyone has left and the door is closed Samuel looks at me and gives me a small smile. He pulls out the chair which is closer to him and looks towards me again.
“Would you like to take a seat?” I take in a deep breath and begin to step towards him. The fingers of my left hand instantly go to my right wrist and I can instantly feel the pain and release as the band snaps back against my skin. It feels so good that I don’t even stop when I see that he is watching me do it. I don’t want to, but I need to and it’s been helping me for as long as I can remember. The more this man messes with my head the more I need to do it, more than normal even before I came to London.
Oh why am I such a bloody mess? As I take a seat next to him I can see he has a frown on his face as his eyes watch my fingers. All of a sudden I can feel the warmth of his hand as he places it over my right wrist, stopping me from doing my ritual. I can feel the rush of heat as he leaves his hand there and looks up into my eyes.
“Please don’t do it.” And for some strange reason his request and touch don’t unnerve me as much as if someone else had uttered the same words or held my wrist. I don’t know what kind of power he holds over me, but as much as it scares me it doesn’t at the same time, and that’s what is unsettling me.
What is it with this man? I don’t understand it. Before I can think any more of it Samuel lets go of my hand and rests it on the table.
“What do you think is going on?” he asks me.
“Me…?” I take in a deep breath as I begin to run my fingers through each other.
“You want to know what I think.”
“Yes, considering you seem to spend more time here than anyone else.”
“W…what?” How the hell does he know that, he’s only been here a week.
“I’m one of the bosses, Grace, I have my ways. Since you started fall 2010 you have stayed late or started early almost every day. That doesn’t include the Saturdays you come in.” Oh God, he knows how sad my life is if I’m at work all the time.
“What are you getting at, Samuel?”
“I need your help. I have a proposition for you”
He has a proposition for me. What could that mean? I can feel my heart flutter as I think of all the different types of propositions he could ask of me. The thought of him ravishing my body till I scream enters my thoughts or of me on my knees sucking him dry. His cough brings me back to the room and I can see the knowing look in his eyes, the bastard knows what I was thinking and I instantly reach my fingers to the elastic band. What is wrong with me, it doesn’t matter how handsome he is and how his words affect me, this man is my bloody boss and nothing can happen. Look at him, Grace, for Christ’s sake he wouldn’t want you anyway, not the way your mind keeps going. Why does my mind keep going there, I don’t like sex, I’ve never held any interest in sex so why is now any different? I need help, I need desperate help. I begin to shuffle in my chair as I take my annoying thoughts out on my wrist.
“A..a proposition. What type of proposition?” I ask with a nervous laugh.
“Not the type you were just thinking of, Miss Grace.” Oh gosh, the bastard knows. Please, floor, just swallow me whole and take me away from this madness before I embarrass myself further. He looks at me with a wicked smile and I know he is just sat there in his calmness looking like Mr. Devil-may-care, laughing his head off at me. Oh God, please just kill me now.
“Relax, Grace.” And there’s that wicked smile again.
RELAX
Relax? Is he having a bloody laugh? I’m sat here having naughty thoughts, thoughts I might add that I have never had thoughts of before, and now I am having them about my new boss and he’s telling
“Would you like to take a seat?” I take in a deep breath and begin to step towards him. The fingers of my left hand instantly go to my right wrist and I can instantly feel the pain and release as the band snaps back against my skin. It feels so good that I don’t even stop when I see that he is watching me do it. I don’t want to, but I need to and it’s been helping me for as long as I can remember. The more this man messes with my head the more I need to do it, more than normal even before I came to London.
Oh why am I such a bloody mess? As I take a seat next to him I can see he has a frown on his face as his eyes watch my fingers. All of a sudden I can feel the warmth of his hand as he places it over my right wrist, stopping me from doing my ritual. I can feel the rush of heat as he leaves his hand there and looks up into my eyes.
“Please don’t do it.” And for some strange reason his request and touch don’t unnerve me as much as if someone else had uttered the same words or held my wrist. I don’t know what kind of power he holds over me, but as much as it scares me it doesn’t at the same time, and that’s what is unsettling me.
What is it with this man? I don’t understand it. Before I can think any more of it Samuel lets go of my hand and rests it on the table.
“What do you think is going on?” he asks me.
“Me…?” I take in a deep breath as I begin to run my fingers through each other.
“You want to know what I think.”
“Yes, considering you seem to spend more time here than anyone else.”
“W…what?” How the hell does he know that, he’s only been here a week.
“I’m one of the bosses, Grace, I have my ways. Since you started fall 2010 you have stayed late or started early almost every day. That doesn’t include the Saturdays you come in.” Oh God, he knows how sad my life is if I’m at work all the time.
“What are you getting at, Samuel?”
“I need your help. I have a proposition for you”
He has a proposition for me. What could that mean? I can feel my heart flutter as I think of all the different types of propositions he could ask of me. The thought of him ravishing my body till I scream enters my thoughts or of me on my knees sucking him dry. His cough brings me back to the room and I can see the knowing look in his eyes, the bastard knows what I was thinking and I instantly reach my fingers to the elastic band. What is wrong with me, it doesn’t matter how handsome he is and how his words affect me, this man is my bloody boss and nothing can happen. Look at him, Grace, for Christ’s sake he wouldn’t want you anyway, not the way your mind keeps going. Why does my mind keep going there, I don’t like sex, I’ve never held any interest in sex so why is now any different? I need help, I need desperate help. I begin to shuffle in my chair as I take my annoying thoughts out on my wrist.
“A..a proposition. What type of proposition?” I ask with a nervous laugh.
“Not the type you were just thinking of, Miss Grace.” Oh gosh, the bastard knows. Please, floor, just swallow me whole and take me away from this madness before I embarrass myself further. He looks at me with a wicked smile and I know he is just sat there in his calmness looking like Mr. Devil-may-care, laughing his head off at me. Oh God, please just kill me now.
“Relax, Grace.” And there’s that wicked smile again.
RELAX
Relax? Is he having a bloody laugh? I’m sat here having naughty thoughts, thoughts I might add that I have never had thoughts of before, and now I am having them about my new boss and he’s telling
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