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I t never ceased to amaze Richard how, even when dressed to meet Holmes his speech momentarily dissolved into the singsong accent of the Hindu.

“Why would Scarlet want to sleep with Tommy Cox or that asshole Mike in legal? She’s a bird. They don’t spread their legs for their underlings. What could they do for her? I mean, she’s the big boss’s daughter. Why should she shag anyone in the firm? If she wants a promotion, or a pony, all she has to do is ask 'Daddy', and Walrus Face will give his little princess anything she wants.”

“Please, that is such misogynistic bullshit. A woman can be every bit as abusive as a man. Haven’t you read Disclosure?”

“I saw the film,” McClaine cut in, and then his features twisted with a leer. “And I tell you, that Demi Moore can suck my cock any day…“

Richard was only half listening to them. He had heard the stories, too. And like McClaine, usually dismissed them as idle office gossip.

Whatever else she might be, Scarlet was undoubtedly a very beautiful woman, and beautiful women in positions of power and authority attracted rumours the way a dog drew fleas. Often as not, they were just stories spread by jealous colleagues or bitter subordinates left in her wake- and Scarlet wasn’t short of those. Quite the reverse in fact, but she was also the daughter of the firm’s MD, Derick Holmes. The consequence for any employee caught besmirching her good name would be unpleasant, but after their encounter on Friday, Richard was no longer entirely convinced all the stories were just stories, but he wasn't about to admit it.

There’d been a look in her eyes. A certain, predatory gleam...

“Okay, that’s enough,” Richard snapped. “Have either of you actually spoken to anyone who actually fucked her? Or heard a story that wasn’t from a guy who spoke to a guy?”

McClaine’s grin dropped. “No.”

“Well no,” Sing admitted, shoving the empty burger box into a desk drawer. “But Jasper Hawkins told me he once saw her going down on the girl from the mailroom.” He looked vindicated.

Until McClaine asked, “Umm, Davey-boy, remind me, what happened to Jasper Hawkins?”

Sing shrugged. “Walrus Face kicked him to the curb.”

“For?”

“Improper conduct.”

Richard barked a triumphant laugh. “Ha! Exactly, telling tales about his daughter. See, he was talking out of his arse and got canned for it. So, with that cleared up, can we get off this subject? I don’t fancy getting sued for libel.”

“Slander,” Sing corrected.

“What?”

“Libel’s written. You mean you don’t fancy getting sued for slander.”

Richard gave him the finger. “Oh, shut it Apu. I don’t give a damn. If you have to be so pedantic, why don’t you take a look at this,” he scooted back, making room for the pair. Sing and McClaine exchanged a look, then pushed back from their own desks and walked around to his. “I told Scarlet I’d get this report over to her this morning, but the numbers don’t add up. I don’t know. Is there something I’m not seeing?”

“So?” McClaine asked, coming up to peer over Richard’s shoulder. “You know the drill. If it doesn’t add up, just attach an advisory.”

Sing nodded in agreement. “That’s company policy.”

Hemmed in by the tight confines of the one-person cubicle, Richard felt the room growing noticeably stuffier. “I know, but something just doesn’t feel right.”

“Geez, Dick!” McClaine exclaimed, slapping a hand down on the desk. “Why are you making this so hard for yourself? You know the bitch has a major stick up her ass about this sort of thing. Just give her the report. It’s not your job anymore-”

“Mr Martin?”

The semi that had been slowly diminishing surged to renewed life as Richard’s heart leapt into his throat, his head snapping up. And then he was back there in that bedroom, naked, with her stretched out beneath him, his cock buried to the root in her lush, grasping heat. That sweet voice hot and panting in his ear.

“Ah… ahhh-oh my God-oh my God-oh my God… I can’t take it… it’s too much… too big!” she shrieked, her fingers clawing at the walls and eyes wide with pure ecstasy. “Oh yes… yes… don’t stop… I’m all yours Mr Martin… I've wanted your hard cock inside me for so long… you can fuck me whenever you want to… just don’t stop… don’t stop!”

Rebecca stood in the office doorway.

It was the first he’d seen of the girl since their tryst Friday night, and she looked amazing.

Her white button up blouse was smart and conservative, and while too short to reach her knees, that skirt would have to go a hell of a lot higher to offend any granny’s delicate sense of decency, or workplace dress code. Yes, there was nothing overtly sexual in her attire, but the thought of what she hid underneath- those lush full tits, her tight athletic build, made it all sexy as hell. And she was gorgeous, too. Her dark chestnut hair had been tied into its customary side braid and there was a little dusting of blusher to her checks, but it was her lips that caught his eyes first. There was a glossiness to them that immediately made him ache to kiss her, taste her…

She must have come straight from work; it was the only time she wore make-up.

“Hi Rebecca.” The words sounded feeble, but it was the best he could do on the spot. Though he’d known this moment would eventually come, he’d been so obsessed with what he’d tell Alice, he’d never actually thought about what to say to Rebecca. “What are you doing here?”

“Mrs Martin called. She thought you might be getting hungry.” She beamed a sweet girlish smile and held up a plastic bag. “You forgot your lunch.”

“Ah… Thanks… Rebecca,” he nodded, feeling suddenly embarrassed. He’d been in such a fluster that morning he’d left his Tesco’s pasta salad in the fridge and hadn’t noticed until he’d been halfway to work. “Just plonk it down over on that cabinet other there. I’ll get to it in a bit. How much do I owe you?”

She beamed, sweeping past him and around the desks. “Don’t sweat it, it’s on me.”

“Really?” He pivoted in his chair to follow her. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing. I wanted to check out the Victorian Market anyway, so it’s no big deal.” Her smile seemed to broaden. “And I got a big bonus over the weekend.”

A big bonus? Fuck, what did she mean? Richard felt cold fingers trail down his spine. Was she planning to blackmail him, to keep what happened a secret? He wouldn’t have thought so. The girl generally had all the sly cunning of a Care Bear. Then again, she had told Alice, and who had secretly told him, that she’d been saving to move out and get away from her father.

Hush-money could go a long way there.

Or was she after something else?

Something more physical .

The prospect made the knot in Richard’s gut tighten and he was torn between terror and being a little turned on. “That’s cool. Well, thanks Rebecca. I owe you-”

“Urh, Mr Martin, could I have a word with you? Um…”

“Ah, well, now isn’t really the best time. You caught us at a bit of a bad moment and-”

“Aw, don’t be silly Dick, we can spare the girl a moment,” McClaine’s eyes glittered darkly as he gave the girl a slow, less than subtle once over.

Rebecca quickly twisted away from his scrutiny. “Er- no! No, I understand.” Then she gave Richard a sideways glance, a small smile curling those lush pink lips. “If you want, you could just pop round later… If you have the time that-that is, that is, please, I don’t want to put you out and my dad will be out so -”

“Ah… No, that’s alright.” Remembering her standing at the door in that little black thing , Richard swallowed. He couldn’t be alone with her, not there. He was safe here. This was his work; she wouldn’t try anything here.

And more importantly, nor would he.

He glanced nervously at his co-workers. They were both grinning like a pair of mangy hyenas. “Mind giving us a minute, lads?”

“Sure.” McClaine gave Sing a nudge. “Come on Apu, let us leave Dick Hefner here to tend to his little lady friend.” However, he paused by the door after the smaller man had gone through and threw a sideways glance back at Richard. “Oh, and enjoy yourself Dick, you’re more in need of a blow job than any other white man in history.”

Bastard .

Richard cursed and turned away, flipping him the V-Sign over his shoulder. It was an almost impotent retort, but it was the best he could do with Rebecca in such close proximity. He couldn’t risk over reacting. He couldn't take the chance of giving his work mate cause to think something was going on.

So he kept his attention locked on his screen, even after the door shut and the laughter drowned out by the hum of computer drives. Yet his eyes had a mind of their own and every few moments he caught himself glancing over in her direction as Rebecca jumped up to perch her ripe little derriere on the edge of his desk, her pencil skirt riding up as she crossed her legs to flash him a hint of thigh.

Thighs that had been wrapped around him just days ago.

Growing ever more aware of the stiffness between his legs, while his guts twisted into knots, Richard swivelled around to face her, blindly tapping a few keys to minimise the spreadsheets. Not that he thought she would have any interest in them, but PPI was such a hot topic, better safe than sorry.

Forcing down a dry swallow, he smiled pleasantly at her. “So, what’s so urgent?”

“Well… I wanted to… um it’s just that… Well…” She looked away, a blush staining her cheeks a dusty pink. “I’m sorry. About what happened on Friday, I don’t know what got into me…”

“I think I have some idea.” He couldn’t help a dry chuckle.

“I didn’t mean like that,” Rebecca laughed, the sound high and girlish, breaking the tension that had been building between them.

For a moment.

Then the dam broke, and she started to cry. Fat, glassy tears rolled down her checks in rivers. “I’m so sorry, Mr Martin. I didn’t mean for it to happen. Please, please don’t hate me. I- I couldn’t…”

Her tears raked him. “Hey, hey, hey, come here.” Richard opened his arms. She all but threw herself at him, burying her face into his neck and sobbing loudly as he hugged her back. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It wasn’t your fault. Everything just happened so fast...”

Not sure what else to do, he held her till the tears passed, and then he continued to hold her, rocking gently from side to side. It felt good to hold her like this. She felt good. Her hair was silky soft against his cheek. That lean athlete’s build fitting against him so perfectly, warm and so very inviting. Those lush young breasts pushing against his chest through the material of her uniform, tipped by dusky nipples that just begged to be sucked.

“Mr Martin?” Rebecca voiced, her tone shaky and uncertain, and he was suddenly aware she was looking down. Down at where the bulge was pitching a tent in his trousers.

Oh shit…

Heat burned across his cheeks as her head tilted back up to his, those full lips curling into a sly feline smirk.

“H-how was the market?”

No sooner had the words left his mouth, he knew they were a mistake.

Only, he had no idea what else to say. The question was the first thing that came to mind that didn’t also involve the words fuck, cunt, cock, tits or cum- in one insidious combination or another.

“Oh… It’s amazing!” She positively beamed at the question, her big doe eyes lighting up with mischief. “There are so many stalls this year, and the costumes. It’s just like something out of Dickens' times.”

“That’s… nice. Err Rebecca I have to-"

She carried on regardless. “They’ve even set up a snow machine over the ice rink…”

“Rebecca-”

“But it’s broken and…“

“Rebecca… look… I… I don’t think-”

“You should hurry up and eat your sandwich, Mr Martin, before it gets cold.”

“Rebecca…” He really needed her to stop talking.

“Mmm… it’s pulled pork. I had the hog roast sausage. I normally prefer chicken, but when I saw them on the spit, I couldn’t resist. They were just so big and thick; I wasn’t even sure I could get it in my mouth-”

He took her mouth, kissing her hard and hungrily, drinking in her lushness.

It was madness. Utter madness. But Richard couldn’t take it. He had to have her again. Pulling her into his lap, his hands slid down the lines of her narrow waist to cup and squeeze her butt through her skirt, crushing her to him, making her moan and arch. Fuck, she tasted even better than he remembered. There was no trace of cherries now. Only the lushness of her soft pink lips, and she was all the sweeter for it.

Rebecca didn’t waste a moment. Burying her hands in his hair, she sucked his tongue like a woman possessed and moaned a low purr that vibrated through him and made his trapped cock throb against its confines.

Yet it wasn’t enough. Nowhere near enough. He wanted more. He wanted her, wanted to rip her shirt open and taste those plump tits. Wanted to bury his face between her legs and eat her hot, wet cunt. Wanted to bend her over his desk, go balls deep in that tempting little pussy and fuck her like the hot little bitch she was.

She moaned a pitiful protest when he left her mouth, but it quickly turned to small kittenish gasps as he nipped a fiery trail down the long slope of her neck. Then she was like putty in his hands. Her hands dropped down to push his jacket halfway down his arms, before working on his shirt buttons, fumbling a bit as he sucked the sweet spot where her neck and shoulder met.

“Oh… Mr Martin!” Rebecca moaned, her head rolling back, exposing more skin for him to kiss. He greedily obliged, dragging the flat of his tongue along the dips and hollows of her throat. Meanwhile, his hands ground her on the ridge of his cock, sliding under the hem of her skirt and up to the warmth beneath. Up along the smooth, silky-soft skin of her inner thigh. Fingers stretching, brushing over taught tendons and reaching for the heat of her lush wet-

A door slammed shut somewhere down the hall, and Richard’s heart leaped into his throat. He froze, a moment of clarity rushing over him in an icy cascade.

Shit!

“Stop. Stop- shh!” Seizing Rebecca’s arms, he pushed her away, quite literally holding her at an arm’s length as he threw a sideways look towards the door.

It was still shut, but the window would have given anyone passing by a front-row seat of their own dirty little peep show.

He watched it, not daring to blink.

Ten seconds.

Thirty seconds.

One minute and still nothing.

He let out a breath. That was close. He didn’t want to think what might have happened if someone had seen them. Even now, with their flushed faces and dishevelled condition, it wouldn’t have taken Doctor-bleeding-Spock to work out what had been going on.

“Mr Martin?”

Rebecca’s voice was so quiet and unsure, it was almost a stranger’s voice. He twisted back to face her, and the look in her eyes raked his soul. She couldn’t have looked more hurt if he had slapped her.

“Rebecca…” The words caught in his throat. He’d seriously fucked up. Again. “We can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

Richard felt like the lowest piece of shit that had ever walked the earth. “You know why. I’m married, and I love my wife.”

“She doesn’t have to know.”

“That’s not the point. Alice deserves better than that, and so do you.” Unable to look her in the eyes, he shrugged his jacket back into place before fixing his buttons. “I don’t want to use you like that, Rebecca.”

“I don’t care. You can use me however you want. I-”

The sudden shrill shriek of a phone ringing cut her off. His computer monitor burst into life, and Alice’s face stared back at them.