His Right Hand

His Right Hand

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Mike Jasper might be one hell of a catch on paper, but he’s still lacking in a few crucial areas. Just ask his impressive list of disgruntled, dissatisfied exes. Who knew good looks, a hard body and plenty of money weren’t enough, especially between the sheets? When it comes to sex, he reluctantly admits he needs help. And who better to ask than his longtime assistant? Ellen is his right hand, completely devoted. She already sees to his business needs. Surely she can offer a few pointers in pleasure? After a humiliating demonstration of his limited skills, Jasper’s relieved when Ellen agrees, apparently recognizing a cry for help when she sees one. And the first thing he learns? His intelligent, austere assistant has been hiding an insanely hot and horny vixen under those business suits! Before long, Jasper’s office is a flesh-filled pleasure den, Ellen’s sexual satisfaction crucial to finding his own. He’s learning more than he’d ever dreamed possible under Ellen’s titillating tutelage…included some unexpected lessons in love.


Mike Jasper might be one hell of a catch on paper, but he’s still lacking in a few crucial areas. Just ask his impressive list of disgruntled, dissatisfied exes. Who knew good looks, a hard body and plenty of money weren’t enough, especially between the sheets? When it comes to sex, he reluctantly admits he needs help. And who better to ask than his longtime assistant? Ellen is his right hand, completely devoted. She already sees to his business needs. Surely she can offer a few pointers in pleasure?

After a humiliating demonstration of his limited skills, Jasper’s relieved when Ellen agrees, apparently recognizing a cry for help when she sees one. And the first thing he learns? His intelligent, austere assistant has been hiding an insanely hot and horny vixen under those business suits! Before long, Jasper’s office is a flesh-filled pleasure den, Ellen’s sexual satisfaction crucial to finding his own. He’s learning more than he’d ever dreamed possible under Ellen’s titillating tutelage…included some unexpected lessons in love.


Submitted: June 16, 2013

A A A | A A A


Submitted: June 16, 2013



A Woman Scorned


“You’re the greediest, most selfish, self-centered, self-involved bastard on the face of the fucking planet!”

As Suzy continued her colorful tirade, Mike Jasper watched his pricey cell phone go sailing out the window. He didn’t hear a thud or smashing sound, which meant the phone—his lifeline to, oh…just everything—had probably landed in the pool.


Suzy stomped to the chaise in the corner of her highly oversized bedroom, snatching up Jasper’s highly overpriced designer clothes…pants, jacket, shoes and all.

“Hey, just wait a damn—!”

“Kitty! Come!”

At the command, a cacophony of sound filtered into the room as “Kitty” bounded up the stairs. The goofy Irish wolfhound slid on the hardwood floor outside the bedroom, overshooting the door, her nails frantically clicking on the wood as she redirected then galloped into the room.

Jasper secretly thought a woman as tiny as Suzy had no business owning a dog who could eat her in two bites. Standing on hind legs, the monster stood nearly two feet taller than Suzy’s Lilliputian five-feet-two-inches, and outweighed her owner by an easy eighty pounds.

And naming her “Kitty” was just plain cruel.

Kitty’s massive tail whacked a small lamp off a dresser as she crossed to her mistress, who had already tossed the jacket, shirt and shoes out the window to join his phone. Jasper hadn’t thought women actually did that. He’d figured it was a Hollywood invention or something.

Huh. Learn something new every day.

Now Suzy was waving the black silk suit pants like a chew toy.

Kitty was beside herself, quivering with doggy joy.

The gargantuan beast chomped down on a pant leg and pulled, nearly yanking Suzy clean off her feet. But with all the cash she spent on hot yoga, Pilates, Zumba, pole-dancing classes and any other fitness trend she could find, Jasper knew Suzy was hardier than she looked. With the other pant leg clutched in both fists, she pivoted around, letting the material stretch over her right shoulder.

Bending her knees and looking for all the world like one of those people who singlehandedly pull trains or planes or whatever, Suzy threw her weight forward, giving the delighted mutt a serious workout.

If Jasper hadn’t been so mesmerized by Suzy’s show of stamina—and yes, okay, more than a little afraid of the dog—he might have jumped into the fray. He really loved those pants.

With a painfully long rrrriiiiiiiiippp, the triple-stitched crotch seam of his favorite suit pants gave up the good fight.

Suzy turned once more, smiling triumphantly as she tossed the other leg to Kitty, who jumped onto the sumptuous king-sized bed and hunkered down to happily chew on what remained of Jasper’s trousers.

“Look, Suz, baby…I don’t know what you’re so mad about.” And he truly didn’t. The day had started out well enough. He’d awakened horny, as usual, and slipped his hand between Suzy’s thighs, testing for moisture. Finding her a bit dry, he’d thoughtfully straddled her chest and fucked her tits instead.

She’d been startled awake when his excited movements had become jerky, just in time to receive a hot spray of cum on her neck and chin.

She’d always been a heavy sleeper.

Suzy’s eyes blazed as she stared him down. “You don’t know? Of course you don’t! Because you don’t know the first goddamn thing about women. Especially how to pleasure one!”

Ouch. “Hey, I don’t think—”

“Shut it! I’ve had enough!” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking at him with a shake of her head. “I get it, Jasper. I do. You wanted a no-strings fuck-buddy because you’re too much of a pussy to commit. And you were lucky enough to find someone happy to oblige. Unlike all your other bimbos, I don’t need your damn money! I’m doing perfectly fine on my own. I’m not waiting for a fucking proposal.”

Well, that was true. The money part, anyway. Heir to a toy company fortune, Suzy’s bank account rivaled his own. It was one of the reasons he’d chosen her. But he wasn’t averse to settling down. Though she was on a roll now; it would be rude to interrupt.

Pacing, she continued, “I just wanted a little mutual fun, but you don’t have a clue what that means. You take and take and take and don’t give anything back. My vibrator is more considerate!”

With a sigh and a resigned look, Suzy shook her head once again. “Well, you blew it, pal. This is one chick who’s sick of waiting for you to figure out the meaning of foreplay.”

“Suzy, c’mon—”

“No,” she said, interrupting again. “I’m done. Good luck with the next one, Jasper. You’re gonna need it. If you can’t learn to think about anything other than getting your rocks off inside of five minutes, you’d better get used to the idea of dying alone.”

With that parting shot, she marched into the en suite bathroom, slamming the door on him and their relationship. Such as it was.

It was Jasper’s turn to sigh as he glanced at Kitty, who stared back, head cocked, a huge wolfhound grin on her face, as if to say “She told you!”

Jasper scowled at the sight of his drool-drenched pants. “Shut up, bitch.”


A Proposition


As it turned out, his phone had indeed settled at the bottom of Suzy’s Olympic-sized pool. It was early May, considered too early for swimming in Detroit, so the pool heater was still off after the long, frigid winter. The dive into the water had been an icy one. If Jasper hadn’t been damn secure in his masculinity, he’d have been mortified when he emerged.

Okay. So maybe not as secure in his masculinity as he’d been upon waking this morning. A shriveled dick was nothing compared to the hits his male pride had taken from Suzy. Was he really that much of a Neanderthal?

No. He was sure of it. Relatively. Kind of.


Fortunately, Jasper always requested his driver be in position first thing in the morning, and he found Wade sitting patiently behind the wheel of the limo in Suzy’s wide circular drive. The chauffeur leapt out of the car at the first sign of Jasper, and had the good grace to turn his head and cough in his attempt not to laugh when he got a good glimpse of his boss. Soaking, shivering and busily trying to pull the wet material of his boxers away from his poor shrinking dick, Jasper shook his head, scattering water droplets before finally chuckling.

As he neared the car, Wade smirked. “Fucked up again, sir?”

On the far side of fifty, Wade had been his personal driver since Jasper was twelve years old. He figured twenty years of putting up with his surly attitude earned the older gentleman a few liberties. “What can I say, Wade? The feminine mystique, it alludes me.” He slapped a hand on the driver’s shoulder before climbing into the limo. The leather made his ass colder and he hastily reached for the knobs on the armrest, adjusting the temperature in the back of the cavernous vehicle.

Heat now blasting on his frigid body, Jasper filled a travel cup with the hot coffee Wade always had waiting for him, day or night. He was a self-confessed coffee addict, and he took a moment to inhale the rich, dark-brew goodness before taking a healthy sip, warming himself from the inside out.

Ahh…at least I can always count on good ol’ Wade.

The driver lowered the smoky-black divider window and looked at Jasper in the rearview. “Home, sir?”

“Yes, but only temporarily. I’ll be going to the office for a bit today.”

Jasper thought he saw Wade purse his lips slightly, perhaps the barest hint of disapproval on his wrinkled face, but then it was gone, replaced by his usual genial expression. Jasper picked up the car phone, pressing the speed-dial number for his assistant, Ellen Douglas. He sipped more coffee as he waited impatiently for her to answer.

“Yes, Mr. Jasper?” an exasperated voice asked upon answering.

Jasper grinned. “How did you know it was me?”

“I have your number programmed into my phone, of course,” Ellen replied.

“Even the car number?”

“Car, cell, home, plane, office lines one and two, Big Bear cabin, Vegas condo and the satellite phone on your boat.”

Wow. Jasper was impressed. “Well, I’m glad I caught you. I’m heading to the office. Are you busy today?”

Ellen paused, allowing Jasper to take in the background noise on the phone. “Is that a donkey I hear braying in the background?”

“Yes,” she said after another pause and a loud sigh. “It’s my nephew’s birthday today. There’s a small petting zoo in the yard for the kids.”

“Oh great! You must be dying to get out of there. Meet me at the office in an hour.”


Jasper hung up, not even registering the start of her plea. The day might have been momentarily jacked up after that scene with Suzy, but at least it wouldn’t be a total loss. He and Ellen could get a head start on organizing his upcoming week then he’d go home and drown his sorrows in a bottle of red.

Not that there were really any sorrows, per se. Jasper’s relationships were pretty brief, so it was likely he would have ended things with Suzy before long anyway. Still…her comment about him dying alone stung. What a shitty thing to say. He fully intended to settle down someday. Choose a woman who loved him the way he was, not one looking to change him into who she thought he should be—a whipped chump who scraped and bowed to her every command while she ran through his bank accounts as fast as possible.

I mean, seriously—what’s so wrong about getting off while she’s sleeping? I was trying to be nice. She looked tired.


Jasper snorted, catching Wade’s attention. “Sir?”

“I just can’t figure out what the hell women want, Wade,” Jasper said, shaking his head. “I buy them dinner, do the flowers thing, bring along the protection, clean up after myself around the house. What the hell else do they want?”

Wade hesitated a fraction of a second. “Perhaps they just want a bit more of your time, sir?”

Jasper snorted again. “I’m a busy man, Wade. I run a multimillion-dollar company. Time is one thing I do not have. Besides, they all know the score when we hook up.”

“Yes, well…knowing and wanting are too different things. You can hardly blame a woman for her needs, sir. A drive-by for an hour-long tryst in the middle of the night is hardly romantic.”

Damn. Jasper really needed to start driving himself to those little late-night rendezvous. Gonna need a license first…

“My time might be limited, but I make sure to take care of their needs when I’m with them.” Jasper refilled his coffee cup, feeling more than a little proud of himself for his prowess. He definitely had a lot of guys beat in the size department, and as for stamina, well…he figured he held his own.

“If I may ask, Mr. Jasper…?”

“Ask away.”

“How do you know?”

Jasper frowned. “How do I know what?”

“How do you know you’re pleasing them, sir? Do they tell you? Do they shout or scream in the throes of passion? Can you feel their muscles squeezing your erection while you’re inside them?”

Jasper choked on his coffee, sputtering. “Jesus, Wade!” He reached for one of the napkins next to the built-in coffeemaker. Given the burn in his cheeks, he actually thought he might be blushing. “That’s a little personal, isn’t it?”

Wade shrugged. “We’re both men, sir. Just asking. After all, if your women never tell you they’re satisfied, how do you know? Do you ask?”

Jasper’s hand slowed as he swiped the drops of coffee from his chest. He actually didn’t ask—and they certainly didn’t tell him. Didn’t scream, either. He did plenty of shouting. He’d always been pretty vocal in the sack.

Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t recall the last few ladies he’d dated saying much of anything in bed. He’d just assumed they were the quiet types. And at least one of those women had been so fucking chatty outside the bedroom, he’d considered experimenting with BDSM just so he’d have an excuse to gag her.

He scowled as his gaze met Wade’s in the rearview.

For his part, Wade just smiled patiently, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Do you mean if they’re not screaming and shouting and calling me ‘the king’ or whatever, it means I’m not satisfying them?” Jasper asked, appalled at the suggestion.

“All I can say, sir, is that my wife does plenty of screaming. And with more than thirty years of marriage under my belt, that means I must be doing something right.”

Considering Wade’s wife, Patsy, was the head cook in Jasper’s house, that was information he could have died without learning.

“Well shit.” Jasper huffed, mildly stunned.

“Don’t take it so hard, sir. You’re still young, with plenty of time to learn.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better,” Jasper said drily. “It’s not like I had any brothers to talk to. And my dad was too busy making money to offer much instruction on the birds and the bees.” Not that Jasper had asked. He shuddered at the thought. His dearly departed father had been a brusque man’s man with no time for little things like father-son chats.

Wade looked at him thoughtfully. “Well…perhaps…”

“Perhaps what?”

“Well,” Wade looked slightly embarrassed this time, “you do have all the resources in the world, sir. I’d wager many women would jump at the chance to teach you a thing or two about the fairer sex.”

“You think I should pay someone to teach me how to treat a woman? Holy shit, Wade! Are you telling me to hire a prostitute?”

“People pay for lessons in far more frivolous pursuits,” Wade reasoned.

Jasper closed his eyes briefly, gobsmacked he was even having this conversation. “Jesus. No. I’m getting along just fine. I built a damn athletic-wear empire by myself. I think I can handle something as simple as sex with women,” he said sarcastically.

Wade just nodded, that twinkle still in his eyes. “If you say so, sir.”

~ ~ ~

Showered, dressed and settled behind the massive desk in his office, Jasper attempted to shuffle though several dozen emails but just ended up rereading a few over and over, not comprehending the contents.

In truth, he was more than a little distracted by the conversation he’d had with Wade. He couldn’t believe the man had actually suggested he take lessons in sex.

He was a good-looking guy. He possessed impeccable taste. His net worth was more than impressive. He opened doors and offered his arm and did all the polite little things he was supposed to do. In short, he was a fucking catch, if he did say so himself. Women were constantly fawning over him, throwing themselves at him—that had to account for something. Thousands of men would kill to be in his position.

He wasn’t a total cretin, for God’s sake. He wined and dined women, took them to all the hottest places, spared no expense on trips and leisure pursuits. What the hell did they have to complain about?

Clearly, Jasper was more bothered than he wanted to admit.

He was still mentally stewing over Wade’s suggestion when Ellen arrived.

He’d seen his executive assistant on countless weekends—she was extremely dedicated to her job—but today was obviously different. She must have come directly from her nephew’s party. Her brown hair, normally tortured into a tight bun or twist, was in a casual ponytail, swinging jauntily as she entered the room. Her business suit had been replaced with some sort of dress. A sundress, maybe. It was a light blue number that fell just above her knees, cinched at the waist with a belt, and two thin straps held up the top, showcasing lightly tanned shoulders. Several small buttons bisected a chest that seemed bigger than Jasper recalled.

The bits of skin alone surprised him; he didn’t get to see it too often, since Ellen was usually covered from ankle to neck. In fact, he was pretty sure he’d never even seen her in a dress or skirt of any kind. She projected an air of severe efficiency at all times, and was one cool customer in her custom designer suits. She’d worked for him for almost ten years—his right-hand man.

Jasper suddenly realized he’d actually come to think of her as just that—one of the guys.

His gaze journeyed downward, taking in the equally tanned and shapely legs—he was a sucker for nice legs—and he was oddly delighted to see bubblegum-pink toenails peeking from the open toes of her flat sandals. He convinced himself it was just amusement at the thought that Ellen had a feminine side.

“You look different,” he blurted.

She gave him something he could only describe as a “well, duh” look as she sat in the chair opposite his desk. “It is Sunday, Mr. Jasper, and I did get interrupted at a family function.”

Was that sarcasm he heard in her voice? A little anger, maybe?

“I just meant you look…pretty,” Jasper replied, feeling a little stupid, though he couldn’t figure out why.

She raised an eyebrow and gave him another look before crossing the aforementioned shapely legs. “Are you ready to go over your schedule for the week?” she asked, stylus poised above her iPad.

Jasper cleared his throat, her efficiency suddenly bothering him. Obviously she was mad about having her weekend interrupted and he found himself feeling guilty, which wasn’t a common occurrence.

He decided he should feel angry about that guilt. After all, she was his assistant and she got paid an insane amount to put up with his schedule—without complaint. So what if she had plans? Sometimes plans change.

“Actually, no. I’m not ready to go over my schedule. How was your nephew’s party?”

Now why did you go there? God, maybe you are a jerk.

As if she could read his thoughts, she gave him a look that said she concurred. “It had barely begun when you called. We hadn’t gotten around to gifts or cake yet.”

“Oh.” Yep. Selfish jerk. “So, uh…how old is he?”

Ellen looked at him for a second before sighing and lowering her tablet. “He turned seven today.”

“Oh, uh…seven. That’s…uh…a great age.” What the fuck are you talking about?

Now Ellen looked at him as if he were slightly mental. She muttered something noncommittal before raising the iPad, stylus poised once more, re-crossing those gorgeous legs.

Why doesn’t she show those off more often? She’d clinch some of my business deals with those legs alone.

It was Jasper’s turn to sigh. “Alright. Hit me with the details on my week.”

He listened to her recite a list of meetings, dinners and commitments longer than his dick, all the while stealing glances at every bit of Ellen’s exposed flesh. She’d tucked her skirt over her knee upon sitting, but as she typed notes and flicked her fingers back and forth over the tablet, the material had sloooowly inched up, barely a centimeter at a time, until her knee was exposed and he caught the barest glimpse of thigh—

“Sir? Sir.”

“What? Yes. No. What?” Jasper’s words ran together and the pen he’d been tapping on the desk went flying when she interrupted his thoughts. Jesus. He’d been busted checking out his assistant.

He bent forward to retrieve his pen, the foot-high gap between floor and desk on the opposite side allowing him to see Ellen’s feet. The crossed leg was swinging idly, the sandal flopping gently against her foot. For some reason he found that cute. Almost sexy.

He straightened, cleared his throat. Tried to look at anything other than her legs.

After approximately eight whole minutes, he realized he’d been spectacularly unsuccessful when Ellen slammed her leather iPad case shut and slapped it on the desk.

“What?” she demanded.

“Huh?” He was caught unaware again. This time he’d been too busy staring at a heretofore-unknown birthmark on her right collarbone. He wasn’t the “darling” type, but the mark was, in fact, pretty fucking darling.

“You’ve been looking at me like I’ve grown a unicorn horn or something. What the hell’s going on, Mike?”

He had enough sense to feel chagrined. Ellen only called him by his first name when she was pissed. She was as no-nonsense as they came, and her innate bullshit detector was second to none. No way could he lie to her.

Here goes nothing.

“Suzy broke up with me this morning.”

He didn’t know what he’d expected. Shock. Sympathy. Maybe even an impassioned declaration about how she was a skeezy tramp who didn’t deserve him anyway.

He didn’t expect the smirk on Ellen’s plump lips.

“What?” he asked when the smirk stayed in place and she took up her iPad once more, as if she wasn’t surprised in the least.

“What did you expect? You don’t know how to treat women.”

Jasper sucked in a breath, reeling from a second verbal bitch-slap to the face in one morning. “What the fuck are you talking about? I treat women just fine!”

“Oh really? Well, then I guess it’s just my imagination. That and your long list of failed relationships.”

And there’s the roundhouse to the gut. “What the hell do you know about my relationships?”

She gave him a look one might use when dealing with a child. “More than you think. I buy your flowers, your event tickets, make your hotel and restaurant reservations. I know where you take your dates. I know how many unanswered voicemails and emails they leave for you. And I know you. And based on that considerable collective knowledge, I’m confident in the educated guess that you’re stringently following every rule in Rich Bachelor Dating for Dummies.”

Jasper just looked at her, mouth hanging open, stunned. His brain was actually devoid of any smartass comeback at the moment.

“Look, Mr. Jasper, obviously you’re more than a little surprised by my assessment. So tell me—what do you do to make a woman feel special?”

She waited patiently for an answer while he continued gaping. What did he do? “Well…uh…I, um… I bring her flowers, like you said. Sometimes perfume,” he finally muttered, his mood suddenly going south. Did I think her feet were cute? Yeah, real cute when they’re kicking me in the fucking chops!

She gave him an indulgent smile. “No. That’s what I do for them. I don’t buy flowers and gifts because you tell me to; I buy them because I think your dates should have them.”

Jasper tried to regroup, the thought that Ellen treated his dates better than he did rubbing against the grain. She’s been buying my dates gifts?! “Opera!” he practically shouted. “I take them to the opera, the theater, concerts. Take them on trips. I bring ’em to high-profile events, show ’em off.”

Ellen narrowed her eyes. “You show them off? Yeah, that’s not sexist at all. Not every woman wants to be your arm candy. And even if she’s willing to be shown off, at the very least, don’t you think a woman also deserves a handsome, attentive man by her side in public?”

“I’m handsome,” he countered. He knew he had her on that one. But he ran his hand nervously through his collar-length black hair anyway.

She laughed, her eyes shining, and he liked the sound. He didn’t get to hear it very often. “Fine, fine, you’re a looker. But what about the ‘attentive’ part?”

“I’m with them, aren’t I? Isn’t that attention in itself?” Now he was honestly confused. “Choosing them is the ultimate form of approval.”

“Approval isn’t attention.” She rolled her eyes. “Okay, so you bring them gifts, whisk them around the world. What about the other kind of attentiveness?”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Your attentiveness in bed,” she clarified. “You seem to be the greatest gift to women since the Wonderbra, yet something is still making them boot you to the curb.”

And there it was again. Was there even enough alcohol in the world to get over the knowledge that both his devoted driver and assistant thought he sucked in bed? “What about it? We have sex. It’s good, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, clearly skeptical. “And what do you consider ‘good’? Or more precisely, good for whom? Do you fuck them slowly? Give them oral to let them come first? Or just pound until you’re done, then roll off and start snoring?”

And she asked with nary a blush.

Meanwhile, he could feel his blood pressure shooting north and the liquid itself speeding south. “I-I-I—” Holy hell in a hand basket! Hard and stuttering in five seconds!

She just looked at him matter-of-factly, waiting.

“I, uh…I’ve never had any complaints.” Except this morning. No sense bringing that up.

Ellen shook her head, looking at him with something suspiciously akin to amazement. “But you’ve never had any compliments either, have you? Wow. No wonder.”

“No wonder what?”

“No wonder your relationships never last. No wonder the women always break up with you. At first I thought you just didn’t want to get tied down, but now…you really have no idea if you’re even doing anything wrong in bed. Wow.” She looked at him with pity now, and his anger returned.

As did the advice from Wade.

“Fine. Show me, then.”

Her face went blank in an instant. “What?”

“Show me how to treat a woman. You’re obviously an expert. If I’m so hopeless, I need to learn from the best. I’ll pay you for your time.”

Now her expression turned dark. “Are you actually asking me to prostitute myself?” Her stormy blue gaze promised new and unusual worlds of pain if he answered incorrectly.

“No. No! I mean—I just—God!” He ran a hand through his hair again. “Look, as much as I hate to admit it, Wade told me just this morning that perhaps I have something to learn about pleasing women. And Suzy called me plenty of choice names before she tossed my belongings out her window.”

He glanced up to find Ellen trying very hard not to laugh, her hand over her mouth.

“Cute,” he said sarcastically. “Anyway, when three different people offer similar opinions during the course of a single fucking morning, even I’m not thick enough not to admit maybe I could use some improvement.”

“Mr. Jasper, I’m not the right person to assist you.”

“Why not? You assist me with everything else. Are you dating someone?”


“Do you find me repugnant?”

“Of course not. I—”

“Any religious objections I’m not aware of?”

“Mr. Jasper—”

“Ellen…please? We’ve worked together forever and you’re not likely to get emotionally entangled or spill my bedroom habits to the whole office. You’re smart, sensible, attractive and I trust you implicitly. From all accounts, I’m doing something wrong and I need help.”

Then he went for the jugular. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone.”

That did it. He could practically see the wind leaving her sails.

“Jesus,” she muttered. “I can’t believe I’m contemplating this.”

Jasper held his breath, too afraid to speak. Then he gave her what he hoped was his most pathetic, beseeching look and waited.

“Fine,” she said, standing and moving around the desk to stand in front of him. “Show me what you’ve got.”

© Copyright 2018 Silence O. All rights reserved.

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