Hey There, Delilah... (4 page)

I stuck around for training until just after five, but I didn’t get to see Nick again.  Apparently, he is preparing for a huge trial that I will be working on next week.  I got the opportunity to meet a few of the other attorneys on our floor; surprisingly, they were all men. I also met all of their secretaries, and guess what?  All blonde, all tall, all supermodels. What the hell am I doing here?

It’s finally Monday, and
I get up an extra hour early today to make sure that I have plenty of time to eat a good breakfast, prepare my lunch, and make sure to get to my first day bright and early. There is just no way I will be leaving my job at lunchtime for a while. Once bitten, twice shy, and all that crap.  I want to arrive before Nick, to show my dedication, and prove my worth. 

I walk through the doors at 8:30 am, with half an hour to spare.  Carmella greets me with a proud smile, knowing she is the reason I even knew about the interview.  I ask her to point me toward
our private kitchen again because this place is a total maze, and ask her how exactly Nick takes his coffee.  His office is set aside from the rest of the firm, so we almost have an entire wing to ourselves. From what I have been told, which isn’t much since I have only been here half of a day, is that he likes, strike that, he demands his privacy.  He doesn’t like to be interrupted while he is working, and nobody gets to him without going through me first. My desk is situated just outside of his door. He has a windowed wall surrounding his door, so we have direct line of vision to each other. I imagine that is so he can make sure I am keeping busy and not wasting time; it was drilled into my head hundreds of times yesterday, “time is money.”  Anyway, he has a beautiful view of the city, and I have a fabulous view – of him!

At 9:00 am on th
e dot, not a minute late, I catch a glimpse of him walking through the door, offering Carmella a gentle smile and a quiet “good morning.”  He is just so stunning that I have a hard time taking my eyes off him. He is wearing a perfectly tailored suit again, and his hair looks a little damp, as if he just stepped out of the shower. He has a messenger bag slung across his shoulder, and I am mesmerized. As he approaches our office area, I stand up to greet him, coffee in hand.

“Good morning, Mr. Santino, may I take your coat?”

“Hey there, Delilah, it’s Nick, and yes, you may.  You are here early today. I appreciate your promptness,” he says, sounding impressed. My mind wanders for a moment and I wonder how bad his last secretary was that he is so impressed that I made it in on time. Then I realize that he just referenced the song, and figure he is trying to get a rise from me.  I give him a knowing smile, and he rewards me with a quick chuckle.

“Sorry… Nick… I just want to make sure you have your morning coffee, and have
today’s schedule ready for your review. You have a full day,” I say, proud that he acknowledged my extra effort.  He squints his eyes at me, as if he is a little confused, takes the coffee, and thanks me.  He tells me to grab my note pad and follow him into his office so we can start our day.

The rest of the week is pretty much the same.  I get there before Nick every morning, make sure he has his coffee and schedule, and he gives me a confused look
before we start our day.  I have not received any more compliments or reaffirmations since Monday, and I am starting to worry that he is not happy with my performance.   Beside Carmella, there is no one here that I really connect. We are so isolated in our wing; the only chance I get to talk to the other employees is if I eat with them in the regular lounge, as opposed to our private kitchen.  Even if I do that, it’s not like I trust any of them en
ough to reveal my insecurities.

I slept in this morning for the first time in months. I make myself a breakfast mimosa, turn on some relaxing tunes, and slip into a hot bubble bath. I completed my first week at the Santino Law Firm, and am pretty proud of myself.  I bounced back, despite all of the shit that was thrown at me.  Quit suck ass job: Check.  Throw out cheating, lying bastard of an ex: Check check.  Get a better, higher paying job with a totally fuckable boss to stare at all day. Check check check. 

I am not sure if it is the alcohol, the music, or the hot bath, but I am completely relaxed.  My mind wanders back to when I first laid my eyes on that beautiful Italian stallion.  The more I think about him, the hornier I get, and there is no way I can go through the rest of the day without pleasuring myself.  I touch my lips picturing what it would be like to kiss him, wondering what it would feel like to have his scruffy beard rasping against my silky skin.  I allow my free hand to start at my neck and slide down to my wet breasts.  I clamp my fingers around my left nipple and roll it, giving it a small tug. I am trying to imagine what it would feel like if Nick were here in the tub with me.  Would his hands be soft and smooth from working in an office, or rough and calloused from working out in the gym so much? I can’t imagine he would be anything other than an alpha male in bed, just as he is at work, totally in control.  I am so turned on right now that I could probably come without going any further.  I decide to allow my hand to explore a little more and rub it over my sex gently, making sure not to enter, teasing myself.  When I just can’t handle the teasing anymore, I allow my fingers to separate and enter my sex.  My thighs tighten, clamping my hand there for a moment, trying to stay my release.  My thumb wanders up to my clit, and that’s it, I am lost. I start to come really hard, moaning Nick’s name. 

Seconds later, still in my daze, I hear my cell phone ringing. I know it’s going to be Charlie begging me to go out tonight, so I don’t pick up.  I really don’t want to go to any night clubs; I am not ready to pick up a new man.  But the phone begins to ring again.  I already spoke to my parents this morning, so I know it isn’t them.
  I guess I should check it out, so I lean out of the tub and peek at the caller ID - it’s Nick! Shit, shit, shit! I scramble to get my now orgasm induced jelly legs to move fast enough to answer, knocking my glass onto the tile floor, shattering everywhere. I hop to my phone, trying to avoid slicing my foot open and answer.

“Hello?”  I answer out of breath. Oh
God, I hope he doesn’t figure out what I was just imagining him doing to me.  Nick just gave me the perfect excuse to avoid going out with Charlie tonight.  As soon as I got off the phone with him, I slip on a comfortable outfit – he said casual - and head to the office.

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It is Delilah’s first weekend on the job and I have to call her into work. We have a big trial coming up next week and I am not even close to being prepared.  So far, she is the best secretary I have ever had. She is always early, arranges my schedule, and has my coffee just the way I like it, all before I even walk through the door in the morning.  None of the other employees say boo about her, she never misses a phone call, the clients respond well to her, and she is respectful toward everyone, even the known criminals.  I have not had a single disruption, and she screens all potential clients to make sure they are worth my time.  All that, and I still don’t want to fuck her - I have found my perfect work wife.

The first few times she hands me the coffee I must have a funny look on my face because she always cocks her head sideways, as though she wants to ask me what I am thinking.  But ever the rule follower, she doesn’t say a thing. Remember, we are only colleagues;
we don’t share personal stories or feelings.  Although, if she ever works up enough courage to ask, I would probably tell her.  Plain and simple, she impresses me.  Maybe I should tell her on my own. Chicks like to be complimented; she may not give me wood, but she is still one of them.

It’s Saturday at
noon, and Delilah arrives early, as usual.  I told her to dress comfortable, but this is just ridiculous.  She is wearing what looks like her father’s Grateful Dead t-shirt that is probably twenty years old and ten sizes too big.  She has on the baggiest jeans I have ever seen that I can’t imagine how they are staying up, and the oldest, rattiest pair of sneakers.  Her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head held together with a pencil, and she isn’t wearing a lick of make-up.  And, of course, her dreadful glasses…are they crooked?  What the hell?  She looks homeless.  I guess I should be thankful that she keeps reminding me that I am not attracted to her -  well, at least not physically;  I would be lying if I said her work ethic and strong sense of self isn’t fucking with my head just a little.  It takes a special kind of woman to be able to walk out of the house looking like this, and not giving a shit about what others say.

“Hey
there, Delilah.  Thanks for coming in. I know it’s not ideal to have to work on the weekend. I hope I am not keeping you from anything.”  I am not sure why I am saying these things to her. Normally, I don’t care if someone else is inconvenienced, especially if it benefits me. Shit, I am going soft!

“No problem, Nick.  I really didn’t have any weekend plans.  In fact, my best friend keeps trying to talk me into go
ing out on the town with her and I was running out of excuses why I didn’t want to go. Oh, and don’t think I didn’t just catch that song reference,” she says with a wry smile. She is so open and honest with me. And witty, too. It really is refreshing. I just can’t figure out why she doesn’t meet my eyes.

“Before we get started working, and I forget,
great job on your first week. You really have gone above and beyond my expectations.”  Fuck, now I am complimenting her without her even phishing.  I need to get some pussy tonight and prove what a man I really am.

“Thank you very much, Nick. I was actually concerned that I wasn’t performing up to your standards. You’re not really forthcoming with the compliments.”  She looks down
again and starts to blush.  Maybe her self-confidence isn’t as high as I assumed it is.

“Well, as a token of my appreciation, and to prove my trust in you, I am going to give you a firm cell phone.  All of the expenses are paid for, but it is to be used only for firm business. This way I can call, email, or text you, and you don’t have to worry about running up your personal cell phone bill. 
Also, if you need to reach a client after hours, they don’t have access to your personal number.  All of my numbers are programmed in, as well as the other firm attorneys, and local bail bondsmen. As we discussed at your interview, all of these numbers, and anything discussed, emailed, or texted, is considered privileged.” 

“Thank you so much.  Not just for the phone, and the trust you have in me, but for reaffirming my worth.  It’s been a long month.”
   We make eye contact for a brief second, but in that moment, I see a sadness that I never noticed before. She blinks and then I see a sparkle that I have seen before… in other women.  Aw, shit.   I better get away from her for a few hours, and go work in my office, alone.  I definitely need to get laid tonight. Double shit. 

I tell Delilah that I am
going to my office to make a few phone calls and write my opening statement for the trial.  I direct her to review all of the discovery in the conference room, and use the phone intercom to call me if she needs anything.  A few hours alone with my work usually distracts me from whatever or whomever my dick shouldn’t be thinking about.

Of course, it is not working.  I have been utterly sidetracked, and I refuse to let my work suffer because of it.
Maybe I should call Julianna and have her come to my office for a pre-trial meeting.  She is the lead prosecutor on the case we are prepping for, and we have a little history between us.  She may be a formidable opponent in the courtroom, but in private, she is the perfect stress reliever - she does as told, knows there is no emotion involved, no nagging or jealousy, no commitment, and no cuddling after. In fact, when I am done, she knows to get her shit and leave.   My only complaint is that it is humdrum. Don’t get me wrong, I get my rocks off every time, and I make sure she is completely satisfied, but something is missing.  She tends to be quiet while I am drilling her, and I would rather hear my woman moan when I please her.  And I need to find someone willing to experiment with me.   Maybe it’s time to hit Club Masquerade.

Now
my mind is completely engrossed in thoughts of Julianna and finding my next conquest at Club M.  My jeans are uncomfortably tight, and I know there is no way I can get any work done without relieving myself. I get up from my desk, peer out the window to see if anyone is around, and lock the door.  I know that nobody else is here besides Delilah and me, and she is up to her eyeballs in discovery in the conference room, so the coast is clear.  I sink back into my executive high back leather chair and unbutton my jeans.  I slide them down just far enough so that I have access to my throbbing dick.  I wrap my strong calloused right hand around my growing shaft and start pumping slowly. I am so horny that pre-cum has already leaked from the head, and I use it as lube for my magnificent ten inch cock. 

I picture Julianna’s lush ass bent over my desk as my hand begins to pump faster. 
I am definitely a tits and ass man. I like my ladies lean, but curvy and soft. I don’t want it to feel like I am fucking a muscular dude, or so thin that I’m going to break her in half. I want a woman who has luscious hips, pouty lips, and a natural rack. I can’t stand all these fake plastic airheads.  Yeah, of course, I will screw them, a pussy’s a pussy, but they won’t get much further than that with me.  But I digress… I reach down to wrap her jet-black hair around my wrist, but when I look down at the bundle, it is brown. I yank on it to see her face, and holy shit, it’s… Delilah?  Sonofabitch! 

I
open my eyes immediately and shake my head, trying to stop where my mind just wandered.  This is not good.  I grip my cock again, even harder this time, and start yanking it angrily.  I will not allow her to enter this aspect of my life.  I am her boss; there is nothing personal between us.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that, buddy!
  I spank myself for another two minutes until I come hard.  My body jerks in relief and I sag into my chair.  That can never happen again, I reiterate to myself.  Just as my breathing comes back to a steady pace, the intercom beeps.

“Hey, Nick.  You there?”

“Yeah.  Ahem.  Excuse me, I have something caught in my throat,” I answer her like a teenage boy who just got caught by his mom with porn.

“It’s 6:00 pm, and I am really hungry.  Should I order some dinner for us?”

“Sure, of course, no problem. Come to my office in fifteen minutes.  I just need to clean up, er, I mean finish up what I am doing.”  Shit!  I am a babbling idiot.  Oh God, I hope she doesn’t figure out what I was just doing in here.

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