In Between The Aisles

~~ FIDELIA ~~

Since the time I got off the phone with Vincent, I’ve been thinking over everything and arrived at a decision that I couldn’t get myself into any legal trouble.

I had bills to pay. I had my mom to take care of and a future to protect.

I was mad and felt violated. Yeah.

But I wouldn’t let my emotions ruin everything I worked so hard to achieve over the years.

They were my sweat and blood.

I’d just do what he wants.

Or maybe what the company wants.

“Conditions? What condition, Miss Mills? You think you have the right to negotiate in this situation?” He asked, and bile rose up my throat, but I pushed it back.

It took a lot of courage for me to make this decision.

I wish I had nothing to lose.

I imagined suing his ass and his entire precious company.

Next, I'll shove my resignation letter through the screen with my middle finger stuck up as goodbye.

Then again, even if I had the chance to, I wouldn’t do that because we had a history.

“My mother’s surgery is half-settled. If you’d give me an advance that would cover the complete payment, I’ll come to the office," I said.

Thank goodness I blurted it out before I changed my mind.

“And why would I do that? We have no prior agreement regarding an advance payment, so I'm not sure why you're expecting one."

“We also had no prior agreement regarding me showing up at the office.” I countered, and I could hear him tsk from the other end.

“You’re not going to get anywhere if you keep going this route. I run this company, so I tell you what to do and how to do it.”

“Then I’m sorry we don’t have an agreement. You can do what you want.” I hung up on him for the second time today because I’ve had it up to here with him.

We couldn’t even have a minute of civil conversation without him showing off.

His pompous ass.

Always bragging about how he was in charge.

Bullshit! Fucking asshole.

If only he weren't so fine.

I went over to my laptop, clicking into a hidden file that spread all over my screen.

Pictures of Vincent from college days up until taking over Hamilton Corp from his grandfather, the founder of the billion-dollar company, filled the display.

After I deleted my OnlyFans account, I had stalked him through all his social media handles but couldn’t come across anything useful.

His pictures only popped up in blogs and business articles, so I saved anyone I could get my hands on.

Born into a filthy rich family, I was sure Vincent grew up with the best of things in life.

From school to friends to family – hell, he probably never had himself surrounded with ordinary people except for his staff and employees.

God, how I knew it was the same guy from back then yet still applied for a job at his company as a virtual assistant! It still made me marvel at my audacity.

He'd been a loyal subscriber.

Made me do the kinkiest and dirtiest thing on screen.

Now, he was some big-time CEO.

What was I expecting?

That he wouldn’t question who was behind the screen someday?

He’d not get curious. Even a little bit.

Geez.

I felt like his once-dirty slut, a past he’d buried in a dark corner of his heart never to see daylight again.

If I suddenly show up as his little anonymous VA, how is he going to react?

I had two scenarios in my head.

One. Lay me off my job to totally erase me from his perfect life.

Two. He’d constantly rub it in my face that I was once his slut whom he'd had at his beck and call.

He'd treat me in a more condescending manner.

If anyone asked, option one was way better.

But before I jeopardize anything, I wanted to use it to my advantage just one last time.

I’d ask for an advance before the meeting.

Get my mum's surgery secured.

Whichever way he reacted after seeing me would be up to him.

If he wanted me to pay him back, he’d have to let me work my debts off and couldn’t just have me fired.

But if he insisted I was a risky stain to his shiny reputation and couldn’t let me anywhere near him, then he’d let me go.

Debt-free

Since he was loaded, he wouldn’t think twice about letting me off.

But as expected, he was an uncooperative jerk.

Whether I went or not, there was a high possibility of losing my job, so fuck it.

Deciding to cool off, as Vincent occupied most of my mind, I strolled out of the house.

I found myself walking into a convenience store, strapping my jacket tighter around me due to the biting cold as I remembered we needed some groceries.

Taking a basket, I walked around, picking up things we needed till my eyes fell on ketchup.

Not the usual one.

The organic one.

I drew in a sharp breath as the memory flashed in my mind.

“Will you do it for Mr. V, dribble that ketchup right over there, and touch yourself?” He asked, releasing his fly and taking out his long, thick, and veiny manhood.

I was in a fishnet thong and half-bra, red heels strapped to my feet, and I hooked both my legs on each of the chairs at my side, revealing myself in full view for him.

“Yes, Mr. V, anything for Daddy," I slurred, grabbing a ketchup.

I watched how his chest heaved, sweat gathering around his brows, his hand trembling around himself as he brought the phone down so I could see how he clearly worked himself for me.

“See. See what you’ve done to me. I’m about to come, FunSize. I wish I could empty myself inside you.” He groaned, and I bit down on my lips, letting his dirty words turn me on.

“Bring the phone up. Let me watch you as I get wet and sweet for Daddy." I said, and he did it.

“Relax and hold it.” I instructed, and he nodded, still pumping himself as he relaxed into his seat.

“Put it on. I’m already so hard, baby.” He cussed under his breath.

I applied the ketchup, dribbling it in slow, thick lines over my walls, and I could see his eyes darken with each movement.

Then I slowly slid my finger into my moist opening, bringing it in and out in slow, sensual strokes.

We maintained eye contact, and I parted my lips, moaning while his jaw clenched, gripping his chair with his free hand as he worked himself harder.

“Fuck. Fuck! FunSize. I need you.” He husked.

“Hold it, Daddy. I want you to put it inside me when I squirt," I croaked, and he hissed a few curses under his breath, bringing himself closer just as I was too.

Then it happened.

The pit of my stomach clenched, and I screamed in pleasure.

"Mr. V!”

“Fun size.” He groaned just at the same time we came together through the screen, both panting.

That was when I realized he’d drizzled his hot seeds all over the screen, covering it up in a mass of ejaculation.

“From me to you, Fun Size." His tone was hoarse as he threw his head back, recovering while my legs hung loosely around the chair, weak from my orgasm.

When our eyes finally met through the screen, he started,

“Let’s meet up. I want to take you out on a date."

And that was when I heard.

"Ma'am, are you okay?” Someone touched me, and I jerked back to reality.

I stared down, and my eyes widened in mortification.

I was in between the aisles, at the corner of the pantry section, facing the wall and touching myself at the thought of Vincent.