Crime of Passion

"Amy!"

I gasp at the mention of my name, sit upright and stare at the computer in confusion.

"Were you even listening to me?" He snorts and shakes his head in his usual manner that shows how pathetic he finds me but I always find it amusing.

"Yes, boss." I slur, blinking at him through heavily-lidded eyes.

He looks away, hating it when I try to act cute with him after making a mistake.

He clears his throat and turns back to me. "Do you have everything I dictated down?"

It takes determination to not react at that time because I have nothing down. I have nothing down. Truth is that I haven't been jotting but daydreaming instead.

His voice does that to me. I can't seem to focus anywhere near him and it's frustrating that he doesn't take note of anything except work. He is extremely shy and socially awkward that he doesn't recognize any of the lights I have been shining his way, despite how extremely green they are.

"What do you think of asides work?" He asks, exasperation tinging his voice.

I know he would have terminated my employment if he had the capacity to.

I let a smile spread across my face, slow and seductive, while keeping my gaze on his. I would rather show him what I'm thinking of rather than say it.

"You don't want to know."

He seems to know that I'm up to no good with my response as he clears his throat and moves farther an inch from my desk as if I have the flu.

"Let's go again."

Go? I imagine him going a mile per second, digging deep into my wet cunt with his hard and delicious rod. A moan slips out of my mouth unconsciously and my eyes round in horror as I realize what I have done.

His eyes also go round but not with horror but with annoyance. His eyebrows shoot up, his lips curling with unconcealed exasperation. "What is wrong with you?"

"You," I say without thinking.