Bending My Straight Boss

Intimidating the P.A. -Plan backfires.

Dario’s point of view.

Everything he said was true. But I have my reasons for being like that. Even though I know every employee's name, I prefer not to use them because calling people by their names gives them the wrong impression. If you call someone’s name, then you have to talk to them, and then, there's the possibility that you get attached.

So, no names.

Alessandro was pretty insistent, but I still avoided calling his name as much as I could. Sometimes he doesn’t answer me until I say his name, so I’m forced to use it.

I’ve wanted to fire him plenty of times because God knows that he's unbearable sometimes and doesn't listen, but as he said, he's damn good at what he does, and yes, he's the first P.A. who didn't quit after two months.

I know that I'm difficult, and yes, cold, but then again, I have no reason to be warm and sweet. We're here to work, not make chit-chat. Besides, why should I feel guilty for those who quit after a month? I told them that the job requires time and it's far from easy, so it's not my fault, or my problem, that they are not capable enough.

Now, to the matter at hand. When I came to work this morning, I didn’t expect to have this kind of conversation with my P.A., but here we are.

And now I’ll torture him for saying those things.

I don’t know if he’s gay or not, but I would say he is. Calling me hot kind of blew him away.

After he takes a seat, I cross my arms over my chest but don’t say anything, just watch as he gets more nervous with every passing second.

He's all red and he's tapping his foot nervously, looking anywhere but at me.

“Are you firing me?” he breaks the silence that I intentionally caused.

“What for? For thinking that I’m hot?” I ask with my eyebrows raised and suppress my smile, as usual. I'm pretty damn good at hiding my feelings under a mask. Showing them makes you weak, and people take advantage of that.

“I said that the gir--” he tries to lie again, but I raise my hand and stop him.

“I will fire you if you’re lying. You’re trying to insult my intelligence and I don’t appreciate that,” I say, and he sighs heavily as if he's in pain.

“Okay. Yes. I think you’re hot.” He sounds utterly defeated and also in pain, and he looks like he's never been more embarrassed in his life, while I try my best not to laugh.

“I see. Are you gay?” I ask, and he narrows his eyes at me as in, ‘Did you ask me that?’

“If I find you hot, I think that it’s self-explanatory,” he says in a DUH tone of voice, and I can't help but chuckle. I restrained myself for too long.

“See? You’re unbearable,” he says with a huff and rolls his eyes, making me laugh out loud.

“Now, is it nice to talk to your hot boss like that?” I ask between sobs of laughter, and he gives me a deadly look, opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it, then bites his lip to control himself.

“Alessandro, I asked you a question.” He averts his gaze when I mention his name, and I smile because I know the reason. He doesn't like it, and no matter how many times he told me to call him Aless, I refused. Shortened names are nicknames, which are dangerous. They lead to attachments.

“As long as my boss is being an ass, yes, it’s nice,” he says as he kills me with his eyes, making me chuckle.

“Hot boss. Don’t forget that.” I smirk, and he takes a big breath, probably to calm himself down, and closes his eyes.

I can't help but laugh, and he opens his eyes, but this time, the look is not an embarrassed one. It's... mischievous?

“Sorry, gorgeous. I promise it won’t happen again,” he says with a smirk, and I chuckle.

“Gorgeous?” I ask, amused, and he shrugs his shoulders.

“You asked for it. And before you make other comments or ask any other uncomfortable questions, let me tell you that I can also be an ass, and I can also make you feel uncomfortable,” he says with a devilish smirk, making me curious.

“Really? How?”

“That’s my secret and I advise you not to try and find out.” His voice and even his eyes tell me not to go further, but today I'm feeling adventurous.

“Did you stay so long because I’m hot?” I continue the string of questions, and he clicks his tongue and shakes his head in disapproval, looking at me as if I made the wrong choice.

With flushed cheeks and mischief in his eyes, he starts roaming my body, but he can't do s**t to me.

I'm straight as an arrow.

“The paycheck is good, but coming here in the morning and being welcomed by this…” he trails off as he gestures towards me, then licks his lips as he eye-f***s me shamelessly.

“This is what keeps me going. I honestly don’t listen to you most of the time. That’s why I don’t get angry. I’m more preoccupied with looking at your lips and imagining… things,” he says as he licks his bottom lip in one slow motion, takes a small breath, then continues.

“And then your body… hmmm, the best part is after 15:00 when you finally take your suit jacket off and roll your sleeves, revealing those sexy tattoos. If I had been straight, I would’ve definitely turned gay in my first week. And I won’t go lower… because if I do… I might need to take my break earlier.” By the end, the hunger in his eyes is burning holes through me, and I have a feeling that he's not even acknowledging me.

After a few minutes of silence, in which I had no f*****g clue what to say, he clears his throat and slightly shakes his head as if he is trying to get rid of the images that flood his mind, shifts in his chair, then swallows hard, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths.

Is he hard because of me?

Fuck, I might be a little intimidated.

“Do you still want us to play?” he asks after God knows how much time, and I try to swallow the lump that formed in my throat.

I'm not physically affected by what he said or how he looked at me. It's just... no man looked at me like that. If I think about it, not even a woman looked at me like that. But a man... it's... intimidating and weird.

But, if I say no, he’ll win.

If I say yes, this will keep going.

But I can’t let him know that he intimidates me.

I'm his damn boss, and besides, I just need a second to recover from the shock that a man wants me.

“Well, if you think you succeeded in intimidating me, you’re wrong,” I say with confidence, even a little smugly, but his eyes are not looking at my eyes, they're fixed on my lips.

What do I do now? I shouldn't move my lips, and even if they are dry, or I think that they are dry, f**k knows if they are, I shouldn't lick them.

I concentrate on not moving my lips in any way, because... I have no f*****g clue why, but--

“Sorry, what did you say?” His voice stops my racing thoughts, but now ONE thought in particular makes its way in front of all of them.

What the f**k is he imagining?

Should I ask? Maybe if I do, he'll get nervous and stop.

“What did you imagine?” I ask, hoping that he'll get up and leave, but his eyes fall back down on my lips, and he starts.

“How it would feel to kiss you, feel your lips all over my body, taste your tongue, suck on it, bite it… and many other things. But those things I can’t say out loud. I don’t want you to sue me for s****l harassment.” And he didn't even f*****g hesitate!

Okay, I declare myself intimidated! f**k! Now what? f**k! That's what happens when I open my mouth!

“Well, I’m glad that I can be of some use. I wouldn’t want you to quit. So, I guess I should call my Mom and thank her for making me so hot,” I manage to keep my voice steady and hopefully, my face doesn't give anything away, and he smiles, then shakes his head in amusement.

“You do that. I’ll go and start working.” FINA-f*****g-LY! THANK. YOU. GOD.!

“Okay.”

“Call if you need me.” Not likely.

“I will.” JUST GET OUT!

He gets up and stops for a second and eye-f***s me again.

“f**k, too bad that you’re not gay.” My eyes widen and my mouth drops for a second, but I quickly recover.

“Yes. Too bad.” NOW GO!!!

He takes a big breath while he closes his eyes, and I don’t want to look, but he’s right in front of me. He is hard as f**k! And f**k me… that’s a big d**k.

“Are you sure you’re not gay?” I realize that he caught me looking, and I mentally punch myself. A wave of heat floods my body and I feel my skin start burning. I'm probably blushing like a damn i***t!

Jesus f*****g Christ!

“One hundred percent. If you’re wondering why I looked, well, it’s hard not to. You’re standing right in front of me and you’re not quite small.” I think I just made it worse!

God! f**k! Recover!

But how?

Maybe shutting up would be a good f*****g idea!

Okay, time to shut up.

The smirk on his face makes me want to strangle myself, but what makes me want to kill myself is the fact that without saying anything and with a look of uncertainty, he goes out.

Why didn't he say anything? I hope he doesn't think I'm gay.

Fuck it! I don't care what he thinks. I'm not gay. I f**k women. Plenty. Too many, some would say.

And I'm pretty sure that he knows that! It's hard to miss when I’m with another woman every weekend in some magazine.

But still... I don't want him to think that I'm gay. He doesn't seem the type, but what if he starts a rumor? I can't have people think that I'm gay.

Fuck!

Next time, just shut your damn mouth, Dario!