by Jo Raven
“It was more like this big.” I put my hands up and try to guesstimate what ten inches would look like. It was a massive cock.
“Good God. In what world does a gorgeous rich guy actually have a big dick to top it off?” She nearly chokes on her bread while she speaks.
“It was like a weapon of mass destruction.” I titter, enjoying her company. It's fun to talk like this.
“Did the curtains match the drapes or does he shave? He's blond, if I remember correctly.” She wiggles her eyebrows, looking absolutely hilarious.
“Yes, the curtains match the drapes,” I guffaw.
“Jesus, Kira, I can't believe you saw Parker Bernier naked.” She slams back into her chair so hard that it tips slightly.
“I can't believe it either.” I stare right through her, envisioning his perfect naked body. “Even more than that, I can't believe he actually offered me a job.”
“You said he was waiting for his massage therapist. How does that translate into a job for you?” She reaches across the table to grab her glass of water, taking a long gulp.
“I really don't know.” I shake my head. “She showed up a few minutes later, and he told her to leave. Then he proceeded to interview me… and seduce me a bit.”
“Seduce you?” She gives me a look of skepticism.
“At least, that's what it seemed like he was doing.” I shift my weight, wondering if I'm over-analyzing what happened. My mind travels back to when he held my hand in his, to when his thumb brushed over my bottom lip. There's no way I imagined it. The lusty gleam in his eyes spoke of pure seduction.
“So are you going to take the job?”
“I don't know.” I bite my bottom lip and try to shake off the memories. “The massage job is only for an hour a day, but he said he'd put me somewhere else in his company to make up the hours.”
“That's just weird. I've never heard of that before. Hiring someone for a job like that without qualifications.”
“To be honest, I was kind of hoping I'd get something else before then. But fate hasn't been kind to me,” I sigh, leaning back and searching the restaurant for our waiter. You'd think they were out gathering the vegetables for our Caesar salads, it's taking them so long. The place isn't particularly busy either.
“That must be a bit awkward, working somewhere after you've seen your boss naked.” She scrunches up her nose. “Then again, I suppose it could be worse.”
It could have been worse. He could have been the old man I had originally pictured interviewing me. “Indeed. I just wonder if he always gets his massages buck naked.”
A mischievous grin spreads across her face. “Well, Kira, there's only one way to find out.”
***
I haven't even been in the massage room for half a minute, and he's already taking off his clothes. Why did he want to have the interview in here? What's wrong with this guy?
“Is this how you handle all of your interviews?” I ask dryly. My optimism that he might treat me to a normal interview fades into the distance the second I see him pulling off his silk tie. While I do want to see him naked again, I also want him to be serious. This doesn't seem professional at all.
He doesn't even pause. “You came back, which means you want the job.” The ripe arrogance in his voice is enough to make me want to cringe. Do I seem that desperate?
“I came back because I was curious about what the other position is that you're going to offer me.” I cross my arms over my chest while I blatantly watch him disrobe. Each item of clothing he removes seems to change the atmosphere in the room. My body is responding with excitement, but my mind is cursing him for making this so difficult.
“You could have phoned for that.” By some miracle, he leaves on his white boxer briefs. They're a designer brand, and they hug his ass perfectly. When he turns around, I can see the outline of his erection. My clit pulses in approval. It's so mercilessly big. I can't help but wonder what it would feel like inside of me.
“I wasn't sure if it would be worth my time. Last I checked, your receptionist isn't very reliable.” It's a lie. In truth, I did want to see him again, even if I ultimately decide not to accept the job.
“You're a mouthy little thing, aren't you?” He smirks and takes a step toward me. I stay rooted in place, but inside, I'm shaking like a leaf. Why does he think it's okay for him to get so close to me, to touch me? He cups my chin, gazing down on me with an intense look of dominance. I'm not going to let him know he intimidates me this time though. I stand firm as he brushes his index finger over both of my lips, and I know my composure is seconds from falling apart. It takes everything in me not to flick my tongue out at the pad of his finger. “I like your mouth,” he purrs before withdrawing from me and leaning against the massage table.
I'm left dumbstruck. What just happened? Is this an interview or something else?
“I take it you researched the company.” He crosses his arms over his broad chest, his expression reclaiming the serious stiffness I would have expected to see in his office, had this been a normal interview.
“I did.” I cough lightly, trying to clear the intoxication of his presence from my body.
“And?”
“And I learned that this is the largest medical supply company in the country. Enkidu Industries started as a distribution house for businesses that create medical products. Eventually, you started buying out those businesses and learning their processes. Through superior marketing and shipping tactics, you've managed to practically monopolize the industry.” I recite everything I was able to Google.
He hisses slightly, as if I've injured him with my description. “Monopolize is such an ugly word. I like to think we hold the largest share of the medical supply industry.”
“Apologies, Mister Bernier, but I'm not a business major. However, I do know that when a company owns all the trade of a certain product, it's a monopoly.” I'm not sure if I sound smart or just plain bitchy. I want to impress him with my knowledge, but at the same time, the longer I stand in the room with him in his boxer briefs, the more I think this job is a bad fit for me.
“No. You're not a business major.” He uncrosses his arms and wraps his hands around the side of the massage table, putting his delicious naked torso on full display for me. “You're a nursing major, or were when you were in college.”
I'm admittedly shocked that he knows that. Then again, he did say he was going to read my resume. “I was.” I nod.
“Then you should already be familiar with many of our products.”
I am, though not as familiar as I'd like to be. My time in college was short-lived, considering I dropped out after only one semester.
A myriad of possible job opportunities with Enkidu Industries shift through my mind. The company is massive, and this is the corporate office. It's highly likely he'll send me to another facility to work in sales or on the production line. Then I won't have to see him all the time. That would probably make this arrangement easier, should I choose to accept, though it would be hell on my car, depending on how far away the other facility is. “So what other job did you have in mind for me?” I get to the point.
“Tell me what you know about me first.”
I groan internally. This room isn't big enough to contain his arrogance. We've moved past the point of practical interview questions. Now we're just doing ego inflation. “Your name is Parker Bernier. You're twenty-four years old. You came from a life of poverty, worked hard in school and earned a full scholarship to the University of Texas where you got a bachelors in Business. While you were going to college, you began building your company. Before you even graduated, you had netted over a billion dollars.” You also enjoy being naked and have a giant cock, I want to add, but I don't.
“Very good.” He nods in approval.
“Do you have any more questions?” If he does, I just want to get them out of the way and get down to business. I'm here to find employment, not to ogle his half-nude body all day.
“
How do you feel about being naked?” he asks with a straight face.
My mouth drops open. “What?”
“Being naked. How do you feel about it?” The faintest smirk skirts his lips.
“Why are you asking me this?” I shake my head as if trying to clear away the ridiculousness of the question.
“Because if you're going to massage me, you're going to have to be naked as well.” He repositions himself, spreading his legs a bit farther apart. The bulge in the front of his boxer briefs strains, and I find myself biting my bottom lip as I fight the urge to stare down at his cock.
“Naked,” I repeat stupidly.
“Naked.” His voice is patient.Can he seriously ask me to take off my clothes while I massage him? “I don't mind being naked at all,” I decide finally, not wanting to sound like a wuss.
“Good.” He rolls off the side of the massage table and walks over to the chair where he laid his clothes. Beneath them, there's a small stack of papers that are stapled together, which he pulls out and hands to me. I flip through them absentmindedly, my mind still reeling at the fact that I just agreed to be in a room naked with him. “I was thinking of putting you in the mail room of this building. You'd be a bit of a gopher, doing a little of this and that.” He returns to the side of the table to stand there and stare at me while I pretend to read the papers he handed to me. “It's mostly basic office work. Scanning, sorting and routing mail, emptying trash cans.”
I scowl at the last duty. Being a maid has never been on my list of preferred job choices. “How much does it pay?” I try to hide the disappointment from my voice.
“Eight dollars per hour to start, with a two-dollar raise after six months and a one-dollar raise every year after that until you cap off at fifteen dollars per hour,” he says matter-of-factly.
It's better than I would do flipping burgers or waiting tables, though not by much. It looks like another six months of barely scraping by. When the two-dollar raise kicks in, things will get a little easier. The extra bit of money from doing the massages should help until then. “I'll take it.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Take off your clothes.” It's the first thing he says to me as I walk through the door on my first day of work. No ‘hello,’ no ‘how are you doing?’ Just ‘take off your clothes.’ He doesn't even say it with much interest.
If any other gorgeous man had said that to me, I'd be rip-roaring and ready to go. But doing it for a job is something different. Knowing that I'm getting paid for it makes me feel kind of sleazy.
“Good afternoon to you too.” I stare at his ass in another pair of designer boxer briefs, black this time, while he smooths down a sheet on the massage table.
When he notices I haven't immediately started disrobing, he says, “We only have an hour, Kira.”
An hour. So many things can be done with our naked bodies in an hour. Standing over him and giving him a massage is one of the last things I'd like to do with that time, though touching him will be nice.
“How was your day?” I venture to ask while my hands jump to the buttons of my blouse. The answer doesn't matter. Talking is just meant to soothe my nerves.
“It's a Monday. You know how Mondays usually are.” He slides his thumbs into the sides of his boxer briefs and drops them to the floor. When he finishes folding them neatly and putting them on the chair, he turns back around to face me. His cock is already swollen with desire.
I gulp as I catch myself staring at it again, quickly averting my eyes. “My day was okay.” He didn't ask, but I need to answer anyway. It will keep me from looking at… well, all of him.
He takes his standard spot at the edge of the massage table, facing me and leaning against it. My face feels hot as I drop the blouse off of my shoulders and unzip the side of my pencil skirt to let it fall to the floor. If this was about sex, I'd be naked already. It's not though, and knowing that he's watching me makes me increasingly nervous.
My hands stall as they reach around to unclasp my bra. I don't know why I don't want him to see me, but I don't. Even though I already agreed to this, it just doesn't feel right. “Could you turn around, please?”
“No.” His voice is firm and unyielding. “Don't be so shy. I'm sure your body is just like all the others I've already seen. If it wasn't, you would have declined the job on the spot.”
I can't tell if he's trying to be comforting, or if he's driving the point home that he's fucked a million different women. Maybe he'll fuck me too. That strange hopeful thought makes my heart race with anticipation. The only thing that spurs me on is the possibility that this might eventually turn into something more.
Mustering up all of my courage, I pull my bra straps over my shoulders, freeing my breasts from their confinement. Then I bend down and remove my black lace panties in one fell swoop, rendering myself every bit as naked as he is. I take a deep breath as I raise my eyes to meet his and my hands reflexively wrap around myself to shield my tits from his eyes, though I don't know why. He's already seen them. He's already seen all of me.
“No. Don't hide yourself.” His tone softens. “You're beautiful.”
I bite my bottom lip as I drop my arms, feeling vulnerable. It's like I'm trapped in the room with a predator that's calculating the moment to strike. Everything in me wants him to strike.
“I'm going to lie down on the bed, and I want you to show me what you think a massage is. You'll go for fifteen minutes, and then I'll assess your skills,” he says.
I nod timidly. At my agreement, he walks over to a small table in the corner and messes with a stereo until classical music floods the room. Then he crawls up onto the massage table. I watch his naked body from behind, the way his muscles flex. Good God, he's gorgeous. He pulls himself up into a sitting position and then lies down on his back, staring up at the ceiling. My mind instantly goes into panic. What kind of massage does he want that requires him to lie on his back and not his stomach? Maybe he wants a happy ending. Since we're both naked, I wouldn't be surprised.
“I'm ready. The massage cream is on top of the table.” He nods at a big white container occupying a good amount of the small table's surface space.
I approach the table and unscrew the lid from the container. The substance inside is white and scentless. It looks nothing like the massage lotions I'm used to seeing in novelty sex shops. I dip my finger inside and am surprised at how thick it is. Is this even going to work?
“I don't have all day,” Parker grumbles impatiently.
When I cast a glance over my shoulder, he catches me scowling at him. There's no hiding the fact that I think he's an asshole, so I don't bother. I approach him with a glob of massage lotion in hand. “This stuff is too thick. What do you expect me to do with it?”
“It will break down as you rub it on me.” He's looking directly at my breasts. There's no mistake about it.
I want to point at my eyes and do the same thing he did to me the other day when he caught me staring at his dick, but I doubt he'd find it funny. Instead, I decide that it's best to focus on my work. “I'm not used to giving anything but back massages. What do you want me to rub?” Please say your dick. I really want to touch it.
“Start with my shoulders. You can rub my shoulders and neck from this position.” He sinks down into the padded table a bit, getting comfortable.
Massaging his shoulders is going to put my breasts hanging directly over his face if I don't do it right. I bet he'd love that. I'm not going to give him the pleasure though.
“Tell me if I'm doing it wrong.” I flank his side and decide to make a weak effort of massaging him without leaning over him.
“No instruction. I want to see what you're capable of.” He closes his eyes as I dump the blob of cream on his right shoulder, and I'm thankful for the few moments where he's not blatantly staring at my nude body.
I press my palms into the cream and the thick muscle of his shoulder. The skin-on-skin contact makes my body shudder with internal joy. He's so warm and f
irm and delicious. The more I think about the fact that I'm going to get to touch all over him, the more aroused I become. My hands glide over his skin with a strange natural ease. And as he said it would, the cream begins to break down into a more manageable substance.
“Why do you get massages naked?” I ask. Even though I know I'm supposed to be quiet, I can't help but want to talk. Being with him like this is so nerve-racking, and I am curious.
“It makes it easier for the therapist to get to all parts of me,” he replies lazily.
“Aren't you supposed to be covered by the sheet?” I noticed that he put two sheets on the table, but he didn't bother getting under the first one. While I've never had a massage in my life, there were sheets in all the massage rooms I've seen in movies and on television.
“Kira, I work in a business suit all day long. It's hot. You're going to see all of me anyway, so what does it matter?”
It matters because I'm distracted. It's really hard focusing on rubbing his arms when his cock is standing like a flag pole a few feet away from where my hands are. I keep glancing at it out of my peripheral vision, thinking of how perfect and suckable it is.
“Why am I naked?” I shake my head slightly, trying to force myself to stop obsessing over his dick. I need to focus on something else. My hands. I'll watch my hands as they move.
“Because I like you that way.”
His response catches me off guard. I truly expected him to have some legitimate excuse. Knowing that I'm naked just for his pleasure is a bit unsettling. I want to say something, but I don't know what. Suddenly, I feel incredibly awkward. It was obvious he was watching me when I undressed, that he stared at my breasts the first chance he got. Hearing from his own mouth that he's sexualizing me though is different.
The minutes tick by like hours, and I'm caught inside my head, over-analyzing everything. The regular workday wasn't bad at all. I was introduced to Penny, who is in charge of the mail room, and she let me shadow her for most of the day. Everyone in the mail room area seemed nice.