Seven

I took one glance at the mirror to make sure I was good to go. I had on white office pants which hugged my thighs, making my hip dips even more pronounced than they used to be. A black Zara top was perched on my upper body and my hair was allowed to cascade down my back in curls.

Grabbing my handbag and a small grocery bag which I had folded Cole's sweat pants and shirt, I dashed out of the house and left the locking of the door to Shelly. She had woken up with a fever this morning and she had phoned Lola to give her the day off.

"Trenton's Inc!" I yelled to the moving cab and it stopped, reversing to where I was.

"Where did you say, babito?" He adjusted his Gatsby hat on his head as he bared his gum at me.

"Trenton's inc."

"Get in." He gestured and I did that, hoping I'd reach there on time.

I glanced at my wristwatch and it was seven-thirty! It was going to be my first day at work and I was already late. I drummed my fingers on my bag, occasionally glancing out the window, looking for landmarks that'd signify I was close to work.

I shouldn't have binge-watched the diary of a call girl with Shelly.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" The driver asked and I couldn't miss his Italian accent.

"Yes, I am." I managed a smile at him through the rearview mirror and he returned his eyes to the road. "Heading to work?"

I nodded, humming in response.

"You know, I have something that could earn you your salary in three hours." He met my gaze for a minute through the rearview.

I resisted the roll of my eyes and swallowed a ball of saliva to ease my heavy throat. If he knew a job like that then why was he driving people around town?

"You don't believe me?" He asked.

"Why aren't you doing that instead?" I questioned, checking the time again.

"Because it's a job for ladies," he responded and I glanced at his head, eyeing the strands of brown hair that peeked from under the Gatsby hat.

"How do you mean?" I furrowed my forehead, fusing my eyebrows into a small frown.

"Firstly," he held up a fat finger and I fished the temperature water bottle out of my bag. I uncapped it and pushed my head back to drink. "Do you know how to give a blow job?"

My eyes enlargened and the cold liquid gushed down the wrong pipe. With my palm reflexively plastered against my mouth, I coughed, spilling some water out of my mouth.

"Sorry, bambina."

"What the fuck?" I mumbled, feeling my intestines twisting around themselves.

"A bunch of gentlemen had flown in from Dubai and they are paying hundreds of dollars just for girls to give them a blow job." He explained and stopped in front of Trenton's Inc. "So what do you say?"

I jumped out of his car and took out some cash from my handbag. My nose wrinkled in distaste as I extended my hand to him through the window.

"Keep the change." Disgust washed over me as I walked away from the car.

"With a mouth so fine you can take three of them!" He hollered and vomit raced up my throat.

I walked briskly, ignoring the crazy driver. Who the fuck would ask a total stranger to suck multiple dicks? Did I look like a call girl?

***

After having a crazy encounter with the driver, I was seated in my office, sorting out some paperwork.

The telephone on my desk rang and I picked up the receiver and held it to my ear.

"See me in my office." Cole let out and then dropped the call.

I rose to my feet and headed to his office with the grocery bag I had neatly folded his clothes in, wondering why the driver had assumed I would suck a dick for survival.

With a soft knock on the door, I pushed it open after gaining permission from the other side of the door.

"Good day, sir." I strode into his office and felt admiration breezing through me.

Cole sat behind his desk and glued his eyes to his laptop screen. His glasses sat on the bridge of his nose and stray strands of black hair frolicked with the skin of his forehead.

My eyes lowered themselves to his chest and noticed two of his buttons were undone. Swiftly, I looked up at his face, avoiding his chest.

Why wasn't he wearing a singlet in that?

"I want you to hand this file to the accountant, I think they might have made a mistake in the figures." He explained, extending his hand which was in a cream-colored long sleeve.

I walked forward, collecting the file with my free hand.

"Here are your clothes, thank you for lending me." I croaked.

'Do not look at his chest, keep your eyes on his face!' I battled with my subconscious.

He took his eyes away from his laptop screen and looked at me as if I was an animal with two horns and then took off his glasses.

"You can have them." He set the glasses on the table and wiped his eyes.

"No, I can't-"

"I insist." He muttered and hoist himself out of the chair. "Are you ready for the swearing-in?"

He walked over to the water dispenser and helped himself to a glass of water.

"Yes," I let out a strangled reply when my eyes caught sight of his chest again.

I could see strands of hair peeking out from the open space and my breathing hitched when I remembered how they tickled me that night when he grounded against my wetness.

"Back to earth, Vanessa." He snapped his fingers and I blinked my gaze back to his face. Had he caught me staring?

"Sorry, I was thinking about the file I was working on," I lied and he cast a skeptical gaze at me as if the word liar was written on my forehead.

Just to be sure it wasn't there, I averted my gaze to the window and wiped my forehead.

"Can I have Verity?" He pointed at his table and I puckered my forehead, glancing at his table in search of Verity.

"I'm sorry, what or who is Verity?" I asked.

"My glasses."

Did he name his glasses Verity? I suppressed a smile by pressing my lips together.

I grabbed his glasses off the table and trudged to where he was. I stretched my hand and he collected it. His thumb brushed my hand and time seemed to have slowed down, scratch that, time froze because our hands remained that way and goosebumps spread up my arm.

I stifled a hard gulp.

He trapped me in his eyes by boring into my soul as he took another gulp from his cup and let driblets of water roll down his lips, trailing their way down his neck and disappearing down his shirt.

I felt my nipples harden against the foam of my bra. My lungs and throat caught fire and my heart skipped a dangerous beat.

"Drop the file with the accountant and meet me in the car." He winked, withdrawing his hand from mine.

My stomach churned and I could feel my shirt clinging to my back which was now slick with sweat.

What did he mean by his car? Did he want to do something unholy?

"So we could drive to the swearing-in." He added, breaking my frenzied thoughts as if he had heard my thoughts.

I walked away, feeling slippery in between my thighs. Fucking torture!