DIRTY DESIRES: A Short Collections.

F**CKING MY BOSS 7

Derek's POV

The image of Samantha sprawled on my desk after I f****d her brains out kept my company for the rest of the day. I'd f****d her so good that it had taken her minutes to be able to get off my desk. After she left, I sent for my secretary and had her rearrange my desk for me. I caught her stealing curious glances at me while she did that and I could see her suspicions in her eyes. But she knew that didn't dare voice them out.

I spent the whole day buried in work, making calls and fixing schedules. All through it, the memory of Samantha's half naked figure never left my mind. It was a few minutes past ten o'clock when I finally decided to call it a day. Then, only a few of my workers were still in the building. Betty, my secretary, was among those that had gone home. Stepping out of my office, l locked my door and walked down the empty hallway, enjoying the calm silence there.

Since no one else was heading downstairs, I took the elevator alone. My stomach growled on the way down, reminding me that I haven't had anything to eat after my light breakfast earlier that morning.

The ride seemed to take forever and I expelled an exhausted sigh when the bell finally dinged. Then, I imagined being alone in the elevator with Samantha. A smile curved my lips as I entertained the thought and I felt a little ache in my loins as the elevator doors opened.

My thoughts vanished in a flash, abandoning me to a real image of Samantha.

Our gazes locked on each other but no words were said. I did a quick scan around to see if anyone else was around. The only person in sight was Molly, a junior worker, and she seemed to be engrossed in whatever she was doing on her computer.

Samantha followed my gaze then she said, “Heading home?”

“Yeah. It's been a long and eventful day,” I answered.

She hesitated, casting a cautious glance in Molly's direction. Molly's eyes were still glued to her screen and she hadn't moved an inch in the last few seconds.

“Can you give me a ride home?” Samantha asked.

“Sure,” I answered without thinking. “Meet me outside.”

To my surprise, she fell into step behind me as I headed towards the exit. Molly finally looked up and her gaze locked on us like a missile.

“Hey, Molly. Working late?” I asked her.

“Yes, sir. I have to finish this presentation before tomorrow,” She answered. If she sensed anything unusual, there was no indication of it in her eyes.

Samantha and I left the building together and she waited at the entrance while I brought my car around. She got in quickly and I drove past the gate and out onto the road.

“Where do you live?” I asked her after a few moments of silence.

She took her face away from the window and rested her gaze on me. “Westwood. Just a couple minutes away from the gym.”

Chuckling, I said, “That's not far off from my place. I live in Wellington Heights.”

As close as our neighborhoods were, there was a sharp contrast in the living conditions between both of them. After a contract scandal a year ago, the government had totally abandoned the project that was supposed to elevate Westwood. It took a long time during which there were multiple protests but its occupants finally decided to settle for the way they were forced to live.

“How long have you been staying there?” I asked.

“A few months. I moved there from Brunnings.”

There was a faint trace of nostalgia in her voice but I decided not to ask about it. Instead, I thought about possible situations that could make someone leave somewhere like Brunnings for a dump like Westwood. Death of a relative, maybe? Or was it a financial crisis? Maybe that was why she was eager to settle for being a junior assistant when her resume bore evidence that she had better qualifications.

Traffic was quite heavy that night and it got to a stage where we had to stop fully. I felt movement on my leg after a few seconds and when my eyes traveled down, I saw Samantha's hand idling there. I caught her staring at me when I brought my gaze back up.

Her eyes glimmered with a dare and I felt her hand moving again. She was taunting me, daring me to react. I shifted my gaze to her hand again, then I smirked and returned my attention to the road.

Taking her time, she continued brushing her hand up my thigh, heading for my inner thighs. As expected, my c**k responded, stirring lightly in my pants. I was sure Samantha noticed that, yet her hand continued its teasing motions. My heart began racing as I wondered how far she was willing to go.

I would be f****d if she turned me on there and it was obvious that she was well aware of that. Her house was the closest to our current location but it would take us almost fifteen minutes to get there without the traffic.

When her hand moved again, it landed on my c**k. The little bastard came alive immediately, asking to be set free. Unable to take the torture, I grabbed Samantha's hand before she could cause any more harm.

“Don't.” she slapped my hand away.

Left with no other choice, I allowed her the freedom to continue what she was doing. She stroked me with her finger for a few moments before switching to her whole palm. Tension began to build inside me as she fondled me through my pants.

That went on until I was squirming in discomfort and instead of stopping, she went ahead to unbuckle my belt. My eyes grew wide with alarm and I tried to stop her again. She slapped my hand harder this time. I was ready to struggle with her until she let me go, but the cursed traffic chose that moment to ease up.

I started the car and continued driving. Samantha took my bare c**k in her palm and I swallowed hard, nearly losing control of the steering wheel. Unbothered by that, she began running her hand up and down my length.