I nibble my bottom lip, trying so damn hard to control my body. It's not working. My pussy clenches tight, and my clit aches with desire. A desire that doesn't belong. A desire that's eating me up inside, clawing its way through my body.
“Does anyone have anything else to add?” Mr. Reeves asks. The room is silent, people just shake their heads. “All right, I think we're done for now,” he says as he stands up. He taps the folders on the top of the table to fix them, then stuffs them into his briefcase. He lets his gaze linger for one, final long second, then turns and walks away.
The second his eyes are gone, a weight lifts off my chest, and a cold wave washes down over my skin. Goosebumps erupt, and I shiver softly. I rub my arms as I stay stuck in my chair. Afraid to move. Afraid to get up. Afraid of what comes next.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I exhale a long breath. It feels like I've been holding my breath the entire meeting. My lungs are tight, and my chest hurts like I've been trapped under water and I’ve finally found my way back to the surface.
People are gathering in small groups and talking amongst themselves as they slowly make their way out of the conference room. I linger in the background, nervous about taking that first step out that door. What if he's waiting for me? I don't know how long he's going to dwell on what happened before he finally confronts me about it.
I'm the last one out of the boardroom and close the door behind me. I instantly scan the office, looking for him. He's gone, and everyone else is settling down at their desks, and getting back to work.
How the hell can I focus after this morning? My brain is running circles. Trying to grasp the weight of what this could mean for me. I can easily lose my job. It's really that simple.
“Hey, Rhonda,” Irene says, jerking her head for me to come to her desk. “Have a late night last night?”
“What do you mean?”
“I saw you sneak in here like a ninja this morning. Please, tell me there's a good story behind it.” She purses her lips and squints her eyes curiously.
“Oh, no, sorry. No good reason for running behind today other than waking up late. I must have shut off my alarm by accident or something.”
“Bullshit. I need a better story than that. You know, I've been married for thirteen years and have two kids. I depend on all you single people for some juicy stories. Most of my nights are spent binge watching The Crown. How am I going to get any excitement in my life if you young people stay locked inside?”
“Well, unfortunately not all of us singles have wild nights. I'd like to tell you I have stories to share, but I don't. Guess I live a pretty boring life, huh?”
She giggles, leaning over her desk. “You know what, there was this one time when my husband and I were just dating. I—” Irene cuts herself off, her eyes looking up over my shoulder.
I turn around to see what she's looking at and my eyes meet my boss. His face is expressionless. There's no smile, no sense of anger or being upset. He's peering down at me and so damn hard to read. I wish he would just give me even the smallest clue to what he's thinking, but he's not.
“Ronda,” Mr. Reeves says sternly. His voice is deep and smooth. My body shivers as my name comes off his tongue. “I want to see you in my office. Now.” He turns and takes long commanding steps toward his door.
I look at Irene nervously. She looks up at me and gives me a crooked frown. I don't move right away, so Irene gives me a little push with her hand. “Go. Go before you get in trouble.” She whispers her words, but she has no idea how much trouble I could be in.
“I'm pretty sure the whole reason he wants to see me is because I'm already in trouble.” I whisper back to her.
She clenches her teeth and crosses her fingers. “Hopefully not. Fingers crossed. Now go.”
“Thanks,” I say, exhaling a slow breath, and letting my hands dangle motionless at my sides.
This is it. This is where he fires me.
I look straight ahead, focusing on his door as I finally take the first step toward his office. My feet are heavy as cement as I drag them across the floor. I know I just have to face him. It's time to get this over with. It's best to do it now, rather than spending the rest of the day sitting around, staring at the clock, and wondering when he's going to come for me.