Page 25 of Hotline
The anticipation is killing me.
Chapter Eleven
Mr. Lennox
It's onlyher and me left in the office.
Each behind our respective doors.
With trembling fingers I grab the phone and call her. I can't take this anymore.
I expect it to ring a few times. I expect the anticipation, the thrill of waiting for her to pick up.
Instead, she answers immediately.
"Hey boss," she says.
"How was your day?" I say, standing up to go to the door. I open it a few inches because I want to watch the strip of light coming from under her door. I want to see if it's spliced with shadows. I want to know if she's pacing the room or sitting at her desk. Maybe she's eating, maybe she's filing her nails with her legs crossed, feet up on her desk, maybe she's treating me like any other client and has her sex-laden voice on autopilot. Maybe she doesn't care about me at all.
"My day was fantastic," she says. Then, a pout in her voice. "But I made a big, big mistake at work."
My lips, pressed into a line, lift at the corner.
"What was your big mistake?"
"I failed to carry out the one task my boss demanded of me.” Her voice goes low and breathy. “But he was kind enough to go easy on me."
I suck in a sharp breath, nostrils flaring, then breathe out, chest rumbling.
"That's the last time he's going to be so forgiving."
"Oh yeah?" she says. There's a long pause. I can tell she wants to say more. "What's going to happen next time?"
“You'll be in for a harsh,hardpunishment."
"Tell me more. I think I need the extra motivation to stay in line."
"You'll be called into the boss' office," I say. "He'll ask you to say you're sorry. He'd leave you in suspense while you express contrition. And he'd ask you to put your hands flat on his desk and bend over."
I hear her throat move as she swallows, followed by a light breath.
"He'd want to make you understand that there are consequences," I grit out. "He'd pull your skirt up your thighs and give you a little smack on the ass."
"Oh my god," she moans. "I think we're doing this wrong, boss."
I go back to my desk and sit down. My knees might give out if I stand here any longer. I'm in danger of exploding in my pants.
"How so?"
"I'm supposed to be turning you on," she purrs, her voice soft and low. "You're turning me on instead."
I press my hand to my aching, massively hard cock.
"You all good with this?" I swallow hard and unzip my pants. "Good with me turning you on?"
"More than good with it," she breathes.
"What are you wearing?"
