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There is nothing more frightening than love; [[Rhiannon Toft]]
Topic Started: Jun 8 2010, 01:22 AM (230 Views)
Alma
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Spring 05[/align]

“Come in, Miss Toft,”

Even as she pushed the door open, she drew in a deep breath and let every muscle in her body unclench from the tense mess she’d been only a second before when she’d knocked on this door. This was okay. She was in her element. What did she have to fear? A soft smile crossed her lips as she glanced up at the man behind the desk beneath her eyelashes. He seemed quite distracted at the moment, no doubt glancing over her resume, as sparse as it was at the moment. “Good afternoon, Mr. Black,” she said softly, shutting the door behind her. She kept his eyes on him continuously and knew the exact moment that he glanced up at her and did a quick double take.

“Have a seat, if you will,” he said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. Rhi nodded rather demurely as she strode forth and sank into it, immediately crossing her legs at the knee. A shame that not so many women wore skirts to their interviews anymore. It seemed that Mr. Black was feeling much the same way.

He moved a bit faster now, pulling out a pen and a pad of paper and immediately placing them in front of him. It amused her, however, to see the way that his eyes continued flicking up toward her, or rather the smooth expanse of leg that she’d revealed. “Excuse me, Miss Toft, I’m afraid I’m a bit unorganized today.”

“Take your time,” she murmured as she situated herself on her chair, taking advantage of when he glanced down at the papers in front of him to adjust her neckline slightly. There, much better. She sat up straight in the chair and folded her hands into each other, pressing them against her abdomen as she did so.

Moments later, the older man looked up at her again, a slight bead of sweat traced over his brow. She didn’t follow it, however. She merely looked him in the eye with that soft smile, her head inclined slightly to the right in a sign of acquiescence and acceptance. “All right, tell me, Miss Toft, why should I choose you as our intern?”

She chuckled softly, just a quick, soft, husky lilt to keep his attention on her. “I can think of many reasons why KBC would benefit from having me on board, sir.” Without hesitation she leaned forward a bit, gesturing to the resume on his desk beside his pad of notes. “As you can see, I have quite a bit of experience from working alongside my fellow students in high school to create and produce our own news broadcasts. It was only a short period of time before our local network took notice and accepted our request to broadcast on their station as well, drawing in a surprisingly large number of viewers-”

“I’m sorry, I’m not seeing this here…”

“Oh, I apologize.” Rhiannon came to her feet and leaned forward over his desk, skimming down the resume with her eyes while inside she was giggling like a schoolgirl at the way that his eyes traced over her collarbone. “Right here.” She tapped a small, slightly smeared spot of ink beside his hand, the sleeve of her blazer rising slightly up her wrist. “I’m not sure how that happened. My printer must be on the fritz.”

“Don’t apologize, Miss Toft. I think it’s a fault of mine, actually.” When she looked up at him again, she mentally noted that he hadn’t actually appeared to look down where she pointed at all, that from where she’d been spying on him using her peripheral vision he’d seemed quite captivated with her torso, her collarbone, her eyes…perfect.

She settled back in her chair as Mr. Black snapped his gaze suddenly down at his notepad and removed the cap of his pen, beginning to scribble in earnest. Interesting how quickly a man could forget his job when in the midst of an alluring woman, she thought. ”If I may, Mr. Black?”

”Oh, yes, please continue,” he said gruffly, now keeping his eyes on the notepad. Hmm. Perhaps he’d figured out her game. Best to push forth with the truth instead of using her appeal, then.

”I am in the process of receiving my bachelor’s degree in Media Studies at Queens College, and I have a 3.8 GPA on a four point scale. You will notice my recommendation letters from my instructors in that packet as well, as well as what skills I am proficient in.”

”Quite impressive, Miss Toft,” Mr. Black said softly, continuing his scribbles. Rhiannon had spoken her piece, and he did indeed seem quite pleased with what she’d presented, if his tone was of any indication. She smiled proudly and glanced over to the side, her eyes immediately catching sight of what she could only assume was a candid family portrait.

She tilted her head to the side, studying the three in the picture: the older Mr. Black with his shock of white hair, an equally older wife with gray hair, and a golden retriever that they were both smiling down at in an expansive living room. It fascinated her for a moment that while Mr. Black appeared only to be near his late forties, merely with premature graying, his wife seemed to be quite a bit older. “You have a lovely family.” Rhiannon chuckled softly after she said it, looking over at Mr. Black as he looked up at the picture.

”Thank you,” he replied, smiling himself for the first time. “My wife, Lucy, and my dog, Buddy.”

Interesting that he sounds more excited about the pup than his wife, Rhi thought, feeling her lips spread into more of a smirk than anything. The movement when Mr. Black turned to look back at her pushed the smirk back into a smile, and she resumed her confident sitting stance as she looked into his dark blue eyes. Ah yes, there was something there, wasn’t it?

”I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind.”

”No, not at all.” She settled into her chair with a mental self-satisfied smirk, happily prepared. This was going to be all too easy.


[align=center]~~~[/align]


[align=center]Spring 06[/align]


Rhiannon hummed softly as she made copies of a document, tilting her head to the side as she did so. God, she loved it here. All the hustle and the bustle and the movement and the general awesomeness that surrounded her brought a smile to her face. Even if she was still stuck with doing things like delivering coffee and documents and making copies of one thing or another, she found that it was almost worth it just to feel utterly indispensable. And yet…there it was, deep inside of her, a longing to go further.

She’d only be indispensable for a short time longer. Her internship was running out, and her senior year of college was ending in only a few days. She needed something more permanent, more…good. Something to actually…give her a future. Whether she liked it or not, she needed an out and an opportunity to make something of herself.

”Ah, Miss Toft.” She immediately straightened up, turning to face the familiar voice of her boss, Mr. Black, and smiled softly at him. He nodded to her kindly as he leaned against his doorframe and tilted his head to the side. ”What are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be leaving?”

Did he see through her so well? Instead of letting herself grow shy or worried, she shrugged and leaned against the copier, strategically angling her hip to display her waist to the best advantage. ”Thought I might get a little bit more work done. I’m only here a little while longer, you know.”

”I’ve been thinking about that, actually. Come in, have a seat.” When he disappeared into his office, Rhiannon felt a soft jump in her abdomen. Here it is. God, here it is. She knew what to do, didn’t she? Hadn’t her mother taught her well? Rhi quickly smoothed down her clothes and adjusted her neckline, exposing only the tiniest bit more cleavage, and started toward the office.

She felt as if she was walking in slow motion, as if sound stopped until all she could hear was her heart pounding and the soft chides of her mother from the past. ”All men are good for is getting you where you want, Rhi. They’re useless vermin led around by their cock, and they won’t hesitate to hurt you at the first chance they get. Hurt them first. They’ll never see it coming.”

Yes, Mother.

When she ducked into the office, Mr. Black was leaning against his desk, watching her rather curiously. She smiled in response and stepped inside, but paused at his soft ”Shut the door, if you could, Miss Toft.”

She nodded carefully and shut the door behind her, feeling her destiny become final as the snap of the door closing reverberated around the room. ”What can I do for you, Mr. Black?”

”I’m not sure.” He arched a brow, resting his hands on the desk behind him and drumming his fingers along the desk’s surface a single time. ”What can you?”

Not a moment of hesitation passed before her smile shifted into more of a smirk and she crossed her arms rather strategically over her chest, only emphasizing it further. ”That’s rather forward of you, sir, don’t you think?” she murmured, placing a bit of emphasis on a slightly huskier tone.

”You know that we’ve been dancing around each other for a year now, Rhiannon.” The way that he drawled her name gave her pause, and she blinked. He’d never once said her first name. Something…God, something felt wrong about it. What she knew was coming was no longer just business. It felt…personal. ”If you can look me in the eye and tell me you’ve never done anything coy or flirtatious, then you can walk right out that door right now. But otherwise, I’m not letting you leave until we settle this.”

She realized in that moment that her smirk had faded. If anything, she felt frozen, staring at the man whom she’d come to know as Mr. Black, the man whom she somehow knew would become George from now on. He seemed to notice her hesitation and straightened up, looking down as his fingers began working to unbutton the buttons on his blazer. Before she knew what happened, she was standing in front of him and unbuttoning them instead while his hands found her hips, tracing the line in her waist. She bit her bottom lip slightly as she lifted her hands, caressing up his chest, and coaxed the blazer off of his shoulders. When she locked eyes with her, she felt a soft stirring in her torso.

She couldn’t remember anything else that had ever scared her so much before in her life.

No. In an instant she shoved the feeling away and smirked up at him, pressing every inch of her against him from head to toe and immediately letting her fingers fly down the buttons on his chest, pressing kisses to his skin with every button that she popped open. No more feeling. Never again.

[align=center]~~~


Fall 07[/align]


”What?”

”I mean exactly what I said.” Rhiannon strutted around George’s office, her hands tucked against the small of her back as she turned to face the window next to his desk. ”I’m not joking.”

Even while she traced the New York skyline beyond the window, almost able to see every inch of it from how tall the building she was in was, she could feel George’s anger positively palpitating from him. His breathing suddenly grew heavier and, when she glanced over her shoulder at him she saw that his cheeks had suddenly grown quite red.

”You’re not doing this.”

”Oh, but I am. If you don’t give me what I want.”

”No,” he snapped, standing up and slamming his hands on top of his desk as he leaned toward her and glared, the pictures and documents in front of him almost forgotten. ”You’re not.

Rhiannon whirled around to face him, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as she glared back. ”And how do you intend to stop me, Mr. Black?”

”It’s George! For God’s sake, what the hell are you doing, Rhiannon?” He began to step around the desk, but froze when she shoved her hands out in front of him and took a few steps back.

She sucked in the anger she felt, using it to fuel her. ”I would appreciate it, Mr. Black, if you would call me Miss Toft, please.”

He stared at her for several long moments of silence, his eyes burning as he clenched his hands into fists. What had he been thinking would happen? This couldn’t go on forever. It had to end, and it had to end now. He’d kept her on for a year at the station, and now things were…changing. It was in the way that he coaxed her to let him stay a little longer at her apartment at nights, how he’d wrap his arms around her and smooth her hair even as she stiffened up and refused to let herself get comfortable.

It was in the way that he…loved her.

”Mr. Black, I’m completely serious,” she said suddenly, lifting her chin a bit higher as she gestured to the pictures and the documents on his desk. ”I won’t hesitate to take those to other news stations and expose everything that you forced upon me.”

”FORCED.” She shifted backward a step at his sudden shout, flinching as she did so as well. ”I didn’t force a damn thing on you, and you know it, Rhiannon. You wanted this, and you wanted it bad, and I…” He stopped himself, shutting his eyes tightly as he sucked in a deep breath through his nose. Every one of Rhi’s muscles were clenched desperately, ready to run at a moment’s notice if she needed to. ”For God sakes, Rhi, this isn’t just some affair to me, and you know that.”

She breathed deep along with him, but never looked away from his face once. ”I believe…I asked you to call me Miss Toft.”

He opened his eyes slowly and pinned her with a great sadness in his gaze, one that drew a thread of hesitance down her spine. But before it could blossom into anything else, he sighed and turned his back to her, studying the pictures of the two of them taken by a private investigator she’d secretly hired, documents that the man had written. ”…if this is what you really want, Rhian…Miss Toft, then I…I’ll do it.” Mr. Black flipped the manila folder closed and shoved it away from him even as he pressed his hands against the desk and hung his head. ”There’s a little TV station down south near the island Ocean of Stars. No one’s been able to get it started or make it popular, and I don't have any doubt that it’s something you could handle in your sleep.”

”What will my position be?”

”You’ll be the station manager, with all that it entails.” He stiffened then, but still refused to look at her. ”Does that please you, Miss Toft?”

She nodded, though she knew he wouldn’t see it. ”Very much, Mr. Black.”

He huffed out a dry, unamused chuckle. ”I always did know how to do that, didn’t I?” he murmured softly and huskily, and Rhiannon felt a blush cross her cheeks suddenly. She stared at his broad back silently before he lifted a hand and waved her off. ”That will be all, Miss Toft. I’ll contact you with the details by fax in the next few days. I’d appreciate it if you did not return.”

Without hesitation, Rhiannon strode forward and reached for the folder. He pressed his hand against hers, sending a singe of heat down her frame, and she shot backward in an instant as she stared at him with wide eyes. There was only a moment of silence before he spoke again. ”I do not trust you with these anymore. Leave them.”

Rather unnerved by the look in his eyes Rhi nodded and turned around to leave without hesitation. She made it all the way to her car before she had any tears to wipe away.


[align=center]~Afterword[/align]
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The First Time

Spring 06 :black[/align]

As they panted weakly, the scent of musk and sweat dancing through the air, Rhiannon felt something inside of her rupture and die. It was something she didn’t even know the name for. She merely felt it, a ship on an ocean, right before it capsized and disintegrated in the ocean water until there was nothing left. Rhiannon furrowed her brow, letting her tensed fingers relax until they splayed across George’s smooth back.

I can’t believe I just did that.

George drew in a deep breath and stepped away from Rhiannon, turning away with a sense of modesty that made her want to laugh at the irony. There was the faint sound of pants zipping shut before he glanced over his shoulder at her, pressing his hands into his waist. Neither of them spoke. A few silent moments passed before Rhiannon glanced toward the nearby window and cleared her throat, working to make herself decent again. “Miss Toft.” She didn’t hesitate in sliding off of the desk and buttoning her shirt a little higher to cover the hickey she knew would develop, to retuck her shirt into her skirt, but she did look toward George with a quirked eyebrow. “You…can expect to keep that job of yours, you know.”

It worked. God, her mom was right. When it came right down to it, men really were suckers. And I didn’t even have to show him my tits, she mused, smirking inwardly as she smoothed her skirt down. “Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Black,” she quipped, tugging a compact out of her purse and flipping it open. Her lipstick was slightly smeared and her hair slightly mussed, but ‘slightly’ was better than ‘I-obviously-just-had-sex-with-my-boss-to-keep-my-job,’ and so she’d take it. “Do you have a tissue?”

He crossed the room and knelt down to tug one out of the box he’d swept onto the floor right before he’d hoisted her up onto the desk only minutes before. When he offered it to her without a word and she tried to take it, however, he held on a few seconds longer than necessary. His eyes might as well have been a tractor beam with how she couldn’t avoid looking anywhere else but them when she tugged at the tissue fruitlessly. The older man tilted his head to the side with a faint smirk before he released the tissue and turned around to begin collecting the things from the floor. “I think you should work late every Friday, actually. Maybe help me finish up some things in the office.”

There was no doubt in her mind that his words were one massive innuendo. Rhiannon dabbed at the smeared lipstick delicately as she watched him, eyes occasionally looking at the window as she wondered if anyone could see them so many stories in the air. “I’ll rearrange my schedule, then.” He chuckled softly at her words as he began arranging things on his desk once more. “…Mr. Black, what are you going to tell the other employees about me staying?”

“The truth, of course.” He looked up at her behind his glasses very seriously. “That you are possibly the most capable intern that we’ve ever had, and that if we gave you up when you graduated we’d be shooting ourselves in the feet.”

“I…” No one had ever said anything even remotely like that to her before. Rhiannon crumpled the tissue in her palm and furrowed her brow a little, setting the gears working in her head. What the hell is your angle, Black? But his eyes were completely sincere. Either he was a genius at lying or he really meant those words. “…thank you.”

George smiled and inclined his head. “No problem.” He stepped away from the desk and grabbed his undershirt from where Rhiannon had haphazardly tossed it. “I’ll see you on Monday, Miss Toft?”

The warmth in her chest fluttered away in that instant and she nodded, tossing her tissue into the trashcan. “Of course. Is there…anything else I can help you with before I go?”

“No, I think I’ve got it.” George began buttoning up his other shirt before he looked up at her and smiled. “Thank you.”

Rhiannon collected her purse, suddenly struck by the fact that she was entirely clothed during that whole act. Even her shoes were still on. Images of her mother flew through her mind but she pushed them away just as quickly, clearing her throat and forcing a smile back at him. “Good night, Mr. Black.”

She reached the doorknob and touched it before she heard him speak again. “Oh, Miss Toft?” Rhiannon pulled her hand back and looked over her shoulder with a quizzical hum, and he tucked his hands into his pockets and leaned back against his desk slightly. “You don’t need to worry about a thing. We’ll keep this between us.”

Ironically, she hadn’t been worried about that at all. She knew deep in the back of her mind that if anyone found out about this, at least if their little ‘arrangement’ continued beyond this point, George would be completely ruined. There would be no chance for him elsewhere. She nodded to him. “Okay.”

“Good night, Miss Toft.”

“Good night.”
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Twice as Nice

Spring 06 :black / :purple[/align]

The next time wasn’t as harried or rushed. Instead of letting Rhiannon control the tide like last time, where she nearly ripped George’s clothes off of his body and whipped him into a heated frenzy, he touched her hands and stilled them as she tried to do the same only a week later. When she’d glanced up at him curiously, he’d merely shaken his head and let his fingers drift down over her sides, from ribs to thigh. But when they brushed against bare skin, right at the end of her hem, he switched direction and tightened his hands around her hips just before he lifted her onto his desk again.

This time, he did see her tits.

The afterglow was much the same, however. George chuckled as he stepped away from her again and put himself to rights, quirking an eyebrow. “You look tired, Miss Toft.” She stared at him for a moment more before she realized her position and snapped her front-fastening bra shut again, looking down at the floor. “Are you telling me that a fifty-seven year old man just wore you out?”

Fifty-seven. Damn. Rhiannon chuckled softly and went to buttoning her shirt up again, her fingers tracing her collarbone and the slightly heated indentation there. “You take…good care of yourself for your age.” The body she saw wasn’t that of a fifty-seven year old man. He wasn’t some muscle-laden god, not by any stretch of the means, but he wasn’t some flabby old guy either. He was just…real.

George winked at Rhiannon as he drew a hand through his hair. “Not all of us businessmen are slobs, thank you very much.”

No indeed. Rhiannon smiled and looked up at him. It was then that the companionship of the moment struck her, and she shoved it away as quickly as she could. “Damn it. Control him, Rhi. Ain’t no reason why you gotta be his friend to keep this job.”

Yes, Mother.

She slid her underwear back up her legs, completely aware of George’s eyes on her at all times, and seized a hold of the power that came with it, quiet and unassuming but ever so delicious. “Should I assume I’ll be…helping you with your paperwork next Friday as well, Mr. Black?” she murmured, looking up at him from beneath her eyelashes and being rewarded by a glimpse at his dilated pupils.

George stared at her blankly for a moment before he cleared his throat and nodded gently. “Of course, Miss Toft. Why, how could I finish it without you?”

Rhiannon chuckled and grabbed her purse, slinging it up onto her shoulder and preparing to leave. “Miss Toft.” She paused in her steps and looked over her shoulder again, feeling as if this was very familiar. But this time George stood there shirtless, his arms crossed over his chest and smiling softly. “How’s your schoolwork going?”

…what the hell is this? There HAD to be an angle there that he wasn’t showing though, for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what it could be. Rhiannon furrowed her eyebrows at George before she turned to face him, running a hand through her hair to loosen her smooth curls. “What?”

“Your, uh…your schoolwork. You’re graduating this Spring, right?”

He looked entirely genuine. That was the scary part. There was something going on in his head, and she couldn’t figure out what it was, damn it. Rhiannon tightened her grip on the handbag’s straps and blinked. “…yeah. I’ve got exams starting next Wednesday, actually. Why?”

George shrugged, reaching up to remove his glasses. “Just curious.” At a loss to something to rub them on, he went on a blind quest for his shirt and nearly tripped over his shoes before he found it. “I forget sometimes that you’re only…twenty-one?”

“Twenty-two,” she corrected, her nails nearly stabbing herself to the point of bleeding. But she couldn’t let go, not until she figured out what he was doing. He was being friendly with her, too friendly, in what amounted to just another degree of business transaction. Something was too off here.

“Well.” George smiled at her the instant that he had his glasses on again. He went on even as he began buttoning his shirt, his undershirt forgotten somewhere else in the office. “We’ll just have to do a little celebrating in the office when you‘re done, won’t we? I’ll order a cake or something. Boosts morale among the employees, you see.”

Rhiannon offered a quiet laugh, though she felt far from good humor inside. All she wanted to do was get out right now, maybe even go visit her mom. She hadn’t seen her for about a year. Apparently she was more than overdue for a little advice. “I…I imagine so.” She touched her throat gently, resisting the urge to clear it yet again, and looked toward the door. “I should…be going, I guess. Got some studying I have to do and all.”

“Oh, of course!” Her boss slid on his shoes and waved her away. “Go ahead, I’ll take care of things here. Next Friday?”

“Yeah, sure,” she murmured absently, opening the door as quickly as she could. “Whatever.”
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Third Time‘s the Charm

Summer 06 :blue[/align]

“You’re late.”

Rhiannon glanced over her shoulder at George Black with a small smile as she shut the door. “Sorry. The janitor started a conversation with me, and-”

“Hang on.” George approached the door and touched Rhiannon’s shoulder, moving her slightly to the side as he pulled a key out of his pocket. He examined it for a moment before he slid it into the lock and secured it.

“What are you doing?” she asked curiously, blinking as she peered over his shoulder.

He gave her a little smirk. “Call it a precaution against the janitor.”

Things were different about the office. Rhiannon glanced around, noting the presence of a new armless chair in front of George’s desk and unfamiliar closed blinds over the windows. “You’ve been redecorating,” she murmured with a smirk.

“Yeah, well.” He slid the key in his pocket before he grabbed her shoulders gently and pushed her against the door, immediately setting a flame burning in her belly. “Maybe I have my reasons.”

“Oh, is that so- …George, what are you doing?” She furrowed her brow and stared at him as he drew closer to her, cupping her cheek with one of his hands. What the hell was this? What was he doing? He never did shit like this before.

He tilted his head to the side, quirking his brow as he reached up and removed his glasses. “You’re a really beautiful woman, Rhiannon.”

She happened to know that, yes, which was why they happened to be in this circumstance in the first place. But her heart kicked up a few notches and pounded almost painfully in her chest as she caught her breath. “Thank you,” she whispered. George tucked his glasses into one of the pockets of his shirt before he leaned down and kissed her.

He’d never kissed her before. As his lips moved against hers, gentle and slow, Rhiannon felt every inch of her tense up to the point of pain. This couldn’t happen. This was too intimate, too familiar. But when one of his hands slid down and pressed into the curve of her waist, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, until she could feel every inch of him against her.

George groaned against her lips and pinned her hips against the door with his own, a single thrust that jarred him away from her in a jolt. “God, you really don’t have any patience, do you?” he whispered with a chuckle, reaching up and touching her hair. She didn’t like it. She hated it. But that didn’t explain the way that her heart turned over in her chest and sent a shiver down her spine. “C’mon, Rhiannon.” He took her hand and pulled her along with him, tilting his head to the side as he took careful steps backward. “What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.” Rhiannon scowled at him even as she shoved things around inside of her, taking control as best as she could. “What the hell was that, anyway? Why’d you kiss me?”

“Do I need a reason?” But even as he smiled at her he placed his glasses on his desk and untucked his shirt from his pants. He leaned back against the desk this time, taking the place normally reserved for her. “I’ve wanted to do it for…a very long time,” George confessed, looking down at the floor as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Rhiannon could only shake her head, mirroring his stance. “I-I don’t think it’s a good idea, all right? We’re not making love here. We’re not even having sex. We’re just fucking, and that’s all it is, damn it.”

“Hey, slow down.” George lifted his hands defensively and stared at her with a frown. “What the hell’s this all about?”

No, she didn’t want to talk about it, not right now. Rhiannon huffed out an impatient sigh and threw her shirt over her head. “Why the hell do we gotta talk at all, George?” His eyes flew straight to her breasts when her bra joined the shirt on the floor, and the silence was broken when he took in a deep breath of air and released it quickly. Thank God men were so predictable. “C’mon, let’s just…let’s get this done, all right?”

She approached him and stood in front of him, waiting for his eyes to flick back up to her face. But they were far too serious now. There was something going on in his head that she just couldn’t fucking read, and it was driving her insane. Rhiannon reached down and grabbed one of his hands and lifted it to her chest, but he plucked his hand away and slid away from her, dragging it through his hair instead. “This isn’t just some…arrangement you have to grit your teeth and bear, Rhiannon.” George looked over his shoulder at her. “I want you to enjoy it too.”

“Why?” Rhiannon spat out, covering her face for a long moment as she fought to keep herself under control. “Goddammit, George, I’m just doing this to get a job, nothing else. Don’t make it personal.”

“I’m not trying to make it personal.” His voice was so sickeningly calm that it made Rhiannon want to scream, but when he approached her and took her hands and gently moved them away from her face she settled for huffing petulantly instead. “But let’s face it, Rhiannon, I’m enjoying this. And if it’s going to keep going, I’d rather you enjoy it too.”

Nothing about that sat well with her, and she just wanted to kick her feet and scream for one brief moment, but forced herself to refrain. Instead she let George lead her to the armless chair and watched helplessly as he sat down. “What are you doing?”

He looked up at her, his eyes warm, and she felt that little flickering candle light once more. “I thought this might be more comfortable for you than the desk.”

It took her a few seconds before she realized what he was suggesting, and her eyes widened slightly. “Oh…yeah, I, uh…I guess it could be.” Rhiannon nudged her hair away from her eyes and started to unzip her skirt, but paused when George held up a hand. He quirked a few fingers toward her, a come hither sort of gesture, and God help her, but she obeyed. He took the zipper himself and tugged it down slowly, his eyes staring at every inch of her in the most adoring fashion, and her breath caught in her throat.

She hadn’t figured out his angle yet, but it was damn well gonna be soon.
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Secret

Spring 07 :green[/align]

Rhiannon froze and stared at the flowers on her desk, eyes wide as she felt her legs root themselves to the ground. It was in utter silence after moments of a cold sweat that she was able to approach and reach out with a shaky hand toward the card atop them. Meet me at Dawn at 8pm. It was anonymous…but God, she recognized that handwriting. Her hand began to shake uncontrollably before she suddenly ripped the card into tiny pieces, as small as she could make it.

“Not a good suitor?” Hannah’s voice piped up from behind her, and Rhiannon glanced over her shoulder to see the young secretary behind her. “Don’t mean to pry, but you don’t exactly look too happy about those roses.”

The way she grinned told Rhi that she had no idea who they were from. Thank God. Rhiannon drew in a quick, shaky breath and shook her head, clearing her throat. “He’s, umm…no, he’s not a suitor.” Mostly due to the fact that he was already married.

When she found an unsuspicious moment to make her way to George’s office, however, she found he had left early for the day, and stood in the doorway shakily.

She still hadn’t found out what his angle was…and damn it, tonight was going to be the night.

She dressed to the nines that night, clothed in her finest little black dress, stilettos clicking against the fine marble tiles of the establishment, and didn’t waste a second when she found herself escorted to George Black’s table. “What the fuck are you pulling here, Black?”

The older man had the good grace to look surprised. “Am I not allowed to take my newest employee out to dinner?”

“To Dawn?” Rhiannon tossed her handbag onto the table, drawing a few eyes around the room. “The damn most expensive restaurant in the whole fucking city?”

“Rhiannon.” His voice dropped so low that a slow shiver drifted down her spine, and she watched as he stood to his feet and approached her. “Don’t worry about a thing. Enjoy the meal. Come on.” George pulled out her chair for her and gestured toward it.

To refuse him would be rude. It would also keep her from enjoying the finest meal she might ever eat in her life. She curled her lips into a frown and stared at him challengingly for several long moments before she finally huffed and settled into the chair, allowing him to scoot it into the table for her. By the time that he’d taken the seat across from her again, she was seething like a volcano.

With wine and appetizers ordered, Rhiannon finally flicked her eyes toward her boss again and took in the infuriating calm with which he watched her. “Do you take all of your new employees out to Dawn, Mr. Black? Or just the most attractive ones?”

He frowned, tugging his glasses off the bridge of his nose and running his soft napkin carefully over the lenses. “You wound me, Miss Toft,” he murmured back as his eyes followed the napkin’s progress. “I’d think you’d enjoy being treated like a princess.”

“And you just presume to know so damn much about me, do you?”

“Yes.” She stiffened with anger at that word, but George went on as he situated his glasses back on his face. “Yes, I do take all of my employees out to eat a few months after hiring them. I use it to track their progress with them.”

Rhiannon stared at him. “How many have you taken to Dawn?”

There was only one response that he gave her. He pointed his index finger at her, wrinkling his brow as he lifted both of his eyebrows emphatically.

The wine arrived before Rhi could chuck a knife at him, and she stared at the glass as red liquid swirled about in it. It had been four months since he had officially hired her. She’d fucked him sixteen times now, once every Friday, and things were growing just a bit too damn cozy for her liking. First, it had been the arrival of the chair instead of his desk, an attempt at more comfort for her. Then, it had been the blinds, protecting her privacy even at the 70th floor of a tower. There was slow and tender progress toward the act itself, forcing Rhiannon into a tense state of patience, ever so reluctant to lend any vulnerability to this man. And now he was sending her flowers and taking her out to dinner? What the hell did he want from her?

Rhiannon flicked her eyes up toward his wedding ring as he took a sip of his wine and eyed her over the brim. “Not your favorite vintage?” he asked, and she reluctantly took a drink as well. The bitter taste of vinegar on her tongue only served to stiffen her more. “Relax. This isn’t going to be enjoyable at all if you can’t even speak.”

“I believe I’ve said my piece, Mr. Black, and you refused to hear it.”

“Oh, come now, Rhian-”

“Miss Toft, if you please.”

George rolled his eyes as he leaned forward, lacing his thin hands against the surface of the table. “Am I not allowed to spoil you a little?”

“In case you forgot, you don’t have a reason to.” The childish temptation to lash out a foot and see if she could stab his shin with one of her stilettos was strong, but she channeled the energy into a chilly stare and frown instead. “You are my boss. And I am fucking you to get ahead in the business. No more, no less.”

There was a certain pained expression on his face for a few moments before he sighed and ran a hand through his gray-speckled hair. “Look, do you want to just drop this…arrangement? You’ve already got your job. I can’t exactly fire you without looking suspicious.”

He was trying to take back control of this situation, wasn’t he? Rhiannon felt her stomach plunge down to around her ankles as she immediately began staring at the rich brown tablecloth instead, furrowing a brow. What had her momma always told her? ”Stay in control, baby girl. Lead that man around by his dick. Ain’t no way he’s gonna be able to get away, and you can milk it for everything it‘s damn well worth.”

The silence at the table lingered for what felt like minutes before George picked up his glass and took another drink, a long one this time that nearly drained the entire goblet. “You…are the most capable young woman who has ever set foot in our office, Rhiannon. You’ve got a mind for broadcasting like I’ve never seen before. You’re going to go on and do the most incredible things, even without me giving you a leg up. So we can call this thing quits right now, if you want, and you’re still going to end up being my boss within the next five damn years, all right? Now what do you say?”

He reached a hand across the table, then, and her stomach flopped over and most certainly hit the ground, leaving her head spinning and her heart pounding. No man said things like that to her, not ever. They smirked at her and tried to look up her skirt and flirted like they were Greek gods, not the scum of the earth, and then along comes this man who’s thirty years older than her and he starts treating her like she’s worth something, damn it, and…what the hell was she supposed to say to that?

Rhiannon closed her eyes tightly for a moment, huffing out a long sigh, and grabbed the napkin in her lap with such force that it felt like it could rip in half at any moment. “No.”

“No…what?”

“Maybe I want more.” She looked up at him, reading the surprise in his eyes easily. “Maybe I want that leg up.”

The waiter arrived and set the appetizers in front of them, but George didn’t even look at the young man as he waved him off, dismissed him to come back for an order later. Instead, George never once looked away from her. There was a heat and a richness to his brown eyes that singed her, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. The man was an open book tonight, and he didn’t even realize it. “…are you sure that’s what you want?”

There was no hesitation. She nodded, reaching for her wine glass again and beginning to swirl it absently.

George looked around them, as if there were spies in every wing, before he leaned forward. “The office is locked tonight.”

“You have a large car,” she reminded him, quirking a brow.

There it was, that inferno that she knew so well. It sparked in his eyes and heated them to amber, and his hand on the table slid shut into a loose and languid fist as he nodded carefully and sat back in his chair. Rhiannon nudged back the swirl in the pit of her stomach, warm and intoxicating, and sipped her wine, looking away.
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