Over The Desk Mga Nobela at Kwento

𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚 “Why are these files still on my desk?” I ask with a little whine, tossing my pen across the desk to massage my shoulders. “I sign papers every damn minute, so why aren’t they reducing?”

Gabriel sat behind his large, polished desk, flicking through business proposals with the occasional furrow of his brow. Jonathan, seated across from him, shuffled through papers, checking the details of an upcoming meeting. The steady hum of the office felt normal, but there was an odd energy in the air today.

She questioned me as her brain stopped working. "Below the desk," I said as there were lots of space below the desk I work and it was parted from between. "Ok," she said and scrunched inside the table and I took a sigh of relief, when Noah enter my office with a smile on his face. "What's up buddy," He said and sat up in the chair. His sudden intrusion made me all fricking. "Nothing just work," I said and shrugged my shoulders off. She was just below me, near my footsteps and I don’t know how to chase him away. He really has a wrong timing though. He would screamed and get startled finding his baby sis down here.

The atmosphere in the office was brooding. Ivanka felt uneasy. Despite this, she walked over to Michael’s desk and gazed at him. She asked curtly, “What’s the matter with the project?” Michael’s expression was dark. He did not even spare Ivanka an icy gaze. He clicked the mouse with his right hand. The previously dark computer screen lit up once more. Through the glass behind Michael, Ivanka could glimpse the data table displayed on the screen, though the mirrored reflection partially impeded the view.

At the back of the room across the door near the glass wall, there was a silver desk filled with papers and a glass desk sign on it reading my name and my position under it, ‘Ava Peggins, CEO. There wasn’t much in my room, except the things I needed to work. There was a black leather couch on the left corner and a coal-black bookshelf filled with books on the right side of the room. I never stayed in my office for more than a minute I needed to. I would rather take my work home than sitting on that big glass box alone.

I glance over at the one-way glass window overlooking the bar. Not that the woman currently bent over my desk seems to care about any of that at the moment. And all I care about is making her feel good. As good as I feel. As long as I’m able to continue just what I’m doing, which is taking us both to new heights. “That’s it, babe,” I groan out as she braces herself on the desk, her hips pressing back against me with every move I make.

My desk sat near the window. I placed my bag down slowly. Pulled out my chair and slumped into it. Across the office, two women leaned close together. Whispering. Their eyes flicked toward me. Then away. I opened my laptop. The screen glowed to life. Emails flooded the inbox. Work tasks. Reports. Deadlines. Good. Work was simple. Work didn’t whisper behind your back. I began typing. Click. Click. Click. The keyboard responded under my fingers. Minutes passed.

‘Move,’ I immediately scooted back under his desk, making sure my toes would not come out of the one- or two-inch gap between his table and the floor. His desk had a modesty panel at the front and sides, so no one could see under his desk. They wouldn’t see me unless my toes slipped out of that said gap. Zach rolled his chair forward. Half of his thighs were under the desk, and his still-hard cock was in front of my face. I was restraining myself from grabbing it again.

I pressed my back teeth together and stared at a fixed point on the wall approximately two feet above her head like my life depended on it. Board meeting at two. Eleven unread emails. Quarterly projections. She bent a little further. Nothing. I have nothing. I was not proud of the next four seconds of my life. “The outlet placement here is going to be a problem if we push the desk closer to the window,” she said, still not looking at me. “You’d lose access completely and we’d need an extension solution which I’d rather avoid because it’s—” She stood up. Turned around. Found me looking at exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong moment.

My makeup was sharp enough to cut glass. "Let them wait," I said calmly. I pressed the button on the intercom. "Power is about timing, Jessica. If I walk in there now, I am on their schedule. If I walk in there in five minutes, they are on mine." "Understood, Ma'am." I walked over to the massive mahogany desk that dominated the room. A single file folder sat in the center of the pristine surface. It was black. The label on the front was stamped with a silver crest. It was a wolf howling at a crescent moon.