Seven's Diary: A Novella (Hers)

by Dawn Robertson

  Dawn Robertson is a twenty-something indie erotic romance, and mother. She lives in sunny senior citizen packed Florida, where she wrangles her kids, and puppy.

  Dawn can normally be found swearing like a sailor, making late night drive-thru appearances, arguing with her kids (or being run over by their power wheels), reading a steamy romance while hiding in her bathroom, writing her little heart out on her laptop (or dragging her Macbook to the Genius bar praying they can save her latest work in progress), or sipping on a smoothie. She loves to hear from her fans, readers, and authors alike. Feel free to drop her a message.

  Dawn rarely takes life seriously, so be sure to expect heavy sarcasm from her. She is also the life of the party, so be sure to meet up with her at one of the many author events she will be attending in the next couple months. Buy her a shot of whiskey, and she will love you for life.

  Find Dawn Robertson:

  Facebook : http://facebook.com/authordawnrobertson

  Twitter : http://twitter.com/eroticadawn

  Website : http://www.eroticadawn.com

  Email: AuthorDawnRobertson@gmail.com

  OTHER BOOKS BY DAWN

  The Hers Series:

  Hers

  Finding Willow

  Kink the Halls

  This Girl Stripped

  Seven's Diary

  Levi's Story (Coming July 2014)

  His (Coming August 2014)

  River (Coming Late 2014)

  Other Novels

  Crashed

  Take Me Out

  Co-written With J.M. Walker

  Uncomplicated

  Pursuit (Coming Soon)

  Co-written With Lily White

  The Good Girl

  AND NOW A PREVIEW OF

  My desk phone rang. I smiled. It was the call, the one I'd been expecting for hours.

  “Yes?” I answered.

  “Mr. Farrow, Mrs. Cooper would like to see you in her office.”

  “Thank you Debra.” I knew the secretary by her first name, then again I made it my business to know. I was a low-level executive at The Kerrigan Advertising Agency, a firm of the highest standing in the industry. We'd done ads for tons of major labels—everything from clothing to cola. It wasn't easy to move up in the company. I had done a lot of—well...pushing and pulling to get where I was. It's important to understand that I did my job. I'd done every single thing my superiors had asked me to, and then some, often in record time. I was just always willing to go that extra mile to impress my supervisors.

  I grabbed my black blazer from the hook on the wall and slid it over my shoulders. To me, my job wasn't just running my small team of designers, going to meetings or pitching campaigns, it was about much more than that. I stepped onto the elevator and the doors slid closed.

  I'd stumbled across a stunning and useful fact about Kerrigan while I was an intern: ninety-percent of their executives were female. I checked my blonde hair reflected back at me in the chrome, humming along with the familiar elevator music playing on the intercom. When I reached the top executives' floor, I buttoned my blazer. I winked at the secretary as I bypassed her clearance altogether. She knew the drill.

  I pushed open the wood and silver entrance, then locked it behind me.

  When Janice Cooper saw me, the rise and fall of her chest grew more pronounced.

  “Oh, hello Dylan,” she said, her cheeks flushed. “I—I was just finishing up your offer letter.”

  Our eyes locked as I strode toward her desk without a word. She was just shy of middle-aged at thirty-nine. With her wavy chocolate-brown hair, nobody would have guessed she was closer to forty than thirty. Her laugh-lines and dimples quivered at the corners of her mouth as she smiled. She had a nice pair of tits and I eyed them as if her blouse weren't there.

  Janice was important to me, and not because of her tits, but because she was a division director. When I decided I wanted to move up, just like all the times previous, I'd found her office and introduced myself. By way of some innocent questions, it was hinted that she was married but completely unfulfilled at home. And just like all those times before, I made myself useful to her, visiting her office several times a week doing what her husband couldn't do at home. That was, I made her come so hard that she usually couldn't walk afterward. And just to make sure the offer for Junior Executive was in the bag, I was about to do it again...

  I stepped around behind her chair and put my hands on her shoulders. She shuddered under them. She knew damn well what was coming. I rubbed the tension from her muscles for a moment, an intimate but seemingly harmless move.

  “Do you want to hear the letter?” she asked with anticipation in her voice. I traced the fingers of one hand down her neck, her pulse raced under my palm. I wasn't there for romance.

  When I didn't answer, she began,“To Mr. Dylan Farrow, Assistant Director of...Marketing: W-we...”

  Her breath caught as I teased her earlobe with my fingertips.

  “We are pleased to offer you the p-position of—of...”

  I leaned down to her ear. “Get out of that chair, Jan,” I ordered.

  She stood slowly, but when she tried to turn, I grabbed her hips and yanked her back against me. I began unbuttoning her blouse from behind.

  “Keep reading,” I whispered.

  “...of J-Junior E-executive of Design Pro—” I closed my hand around her right breast. Her knees buckled as I kneaded. She bit her lip as I twisted her nipple.

  “Finish.” She inhaled frantically as I lifted the hem of her black pencil skirt, pressing my hand up between her thighs. I could hear the longing in her moans as I did whatever I wanted with her. My dick got nice and rigid against her ass. “Production,” she finished, the strength in her voice wavering.

  My hand swept everything off her desk, sending pens, papers and files into the floor. I shoved her over the leather desk-mat and maneuvered between her legs.

  “Keep going,” I commanded as I slid her skirt up over her ass. She was wearing a pretty satin and lace pair of panties, something that both amused and aroused me. She knew very well that she didn't need to bother with pretty formalities. I was going to fuck her regardless of what she wore.

  “Oh, God,” she muttered under her breath. “I—I can't... Don't make me wait, Dylan. Please!”

  “Not yet. I want to hear it all,” I whispered in ear.

  “The p-position entails...entails...”

  I tugged the panties down slowly until her she was spread out in front of me. Her entire body was begging me to make her come, but I held back to make her beg again. I loved hearing those high-level executives beg.

  “What's wrong, Jan?” I growled against her shoulder. “Forget how good this cock was yesterday? Don't want to invite it up to the fifteenth floor?”

  “Please!” she begged again. “Please Dylan!”

  I reached down and slapped her wet pussy with the flat of my hand. She squealed and wiggled; she did that every time. I pinched, tickled and teased her, from her clit to that soft, inviting hole I was going to fill up. I knew she was close to the brink, driven crazy with lust for me. I'd brought her to this point many times, turning her into no more than a slut addicted to the dirty things I did, things that she never got anywhere else.

  “...position entails...overseeing—fuck—Jesus!” she cried. My fingers were dripping before I could slide two of them into her. I reached until I found her g-spot. I'd practically memorized where it was. She moaned loud and long at the contact, then gripped the edge of her desk as a third finger joined them. She bit her lip as I drew circles over the tender flesh. I thrust my fingers deep and fast, massaging until she came all over my hand.

  “Yeah...that's the way Mrs. Janice Cooper likes it, isn't it?” I taunted, punctuating the sentence by giving her another good few slick finger-lengths.

  “Yes!” she moaned.

  “What's that? I didn't hear? Do you talk that quietly to your husband when he fucks you?” She wasn't answering me, so I brought h
er to the edge, then retracted my fingers suddenly. “I can't hear you, Jan. I can't.”

  “That's how I like it,” she groaned.

  “You'll like this even more,” I assured her. I unzipped my pants prepared to give her exactly what she wanted. I wrapped my wet hand around my pulsating shaft and pumped it until I was at my full hardness. But instead of making her wait, I plunged it in deep, in one swift push. She clenched around me. Her back arched as she screamed. Any chance of us not being heard had gone out the window. If she didn't know what we had been doing for three months behind the closed office door, Debra surely knew now.

  More pencils rolled out from underneath Janice's tits and clattered to the floor. I'd messed up her office, now I was going to ruin her pussy.

  “I'm going to fuck you, Janice, with every inch of me.” I blew the forceful sentence into her ear. “I'm going to fuck you for giving me this job. I'm going to pound your sweet cunt until you come all over your desk.” I began sliding in and out of her, finding her spot again with the head of my dick. “The only thing I'm overseeing today is your orgasm.”

  I'd delivered that warning to benefit her, then I made good on my word. I fucked her for an hour, until she was a shaking wet mess draped over her desk, until she lost her voice from screaming.

  * * *

  THE POSITION IS COMING VERY SOON FROM BOOKTROPE PUBLICATIONS

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