Chapter 10: Taming Mr. Walker: Chapter 10

Charlie

“He said what?” Stevie asks too loudly. Curious, Dana and Tim lean forward in their seats to listen.

“Shush, keep your voice down!”

“Let me get this straight. Danny Walker informs you that you no longer have a job, but he’s got you a job somewhere else, bearing in mind you might not even want to work there and didn’t go through an interview, so God knows how he pulled that one off, then he reprimands you for what you are wearing?”

“Don’t forget he called me a stripper.” I grimace, my knee bouncing up and down. After this morning’s episode, I’m like a basketball.

“I don’t get it.” His brow furrows. “This must be personal. Jackie sits out there in a mini skirt so short I can see what she’s had for breakfast.”

“Exactly.” I roll my eyes. “Of course, it’s personal.”

“It sounds like a libel case. Is he allowed to do these things?”

We stare over at the main boardroom where the asshole is holding a meeting with Dunley senior management.

Danny talks, and the others nod like pigeons.

Pathetic.

Does anyone ever question this guy?

“Mind you, are you gonna try and take on one of the most powerful men in tech?” Stevie shrugs. “I guess he’s used to people taking the cash and running. It doesn’t matter how he treats them.”

“I nearly slapped him.” I giggle, remembering his angry face.

“Damn, Charlie, reign it in. Are you trying to get fired? Fired … or fucked?” he adds sarcastically, and I hit him on the arm. He wheels his chair closer. “Let’s check the employee contract. See what it says about dress code.”

I nod. “I should have my contract in my emails from when I started.”

Stevie peers over my shoulder as I filter my emails from my first year at work.

There it is. I click to open, and we scan through it. Bingo! The proof that Danny Walker was way out of line, and I hadn’t violated any company policies.

Dress Code. Between the hours of 8:30am and 5pm, employees shall maintain a dress code of smart casual. Clothes with slogans, or graphics that display profanity are not permitted. Notwithstanding, no employee shall be discriminated against because of dress.

“It specifically says between 8:30 and 5,” Stevie points out. “And it doesn’t mention anything about shorts.” He looks at me. “What are you going to do?”

I smile. Choke on this, you obnoxious prick.

Danny

“Listen,” I snap, “We’ve been over this. I want every employee to be assessed and scored in the next two weeks.”

“Danny,” Cheryl, my head of HR, pleads down the phone. “It’s not enough time.”

“It’s not up for negotiation. I want this project done quickly.”

“OK, but can I ask what the rush is?” she prompts softly. “You’ve never rushed a takeover like this before.” Cheryl would be on shaky ground if she hadn’t worked for me for a decade. I’m not a man who likes to be questioned.

I sigh. I don’t have an answer for her. Can I tell her that my dick isn’t playing nicely, and I need to get this wrapped up because I’m a walking erection?

I close down the questioning: “I need redundancy packages to be issued in ten days’ time. Understand?”

“Perfectly, sir,” she responds in a clipped tone.

I hang up fuming and instantly regret it. It isn’t Cheryl’s fault.

I’m doing the right thing even if Charlie can’t see it right now.

What would Tristan prefer? Me giving his little sister a very generous redundancy package and a new job elsewhere or me fucking her senseless? That’s what would happen if we were in the same office every day. It would end in tears, likely hers. I simply can’t have her as an employee. Despite my reputation, I’ve never fucked an employee.

Merging Dunley Tech’s I.T. department into the central Nexus department makes perfect sense. Tristan’s a man of business. He will forgive the first but not the second.

So will she, with time.

I wonder how long she’ll walk around sulking. She looked like she wanted to murder me this morning.

My cock clenches at the memory of her standing defiantly in front of me, hands on hips, chest moving angrily up and down.

She’s lucky she didn’t slap me. I wouldn’t have been able to control the urge to fling her over my shoulder, carry her to my office, slide those wet shorts down and fuck her out of my system.

Unfortunately for both of us, her fury turns me on even more.

I twirl the ice around my scotch glass.

I need to get rid of this tension before the awards ceremony at 7 p.m. They probably won’t take too kindly to me presenting awards with a tent in my pants.

I check my watch. Twenty minutes until the car arrives. I’ll take matters into my own hands.

Literally.

I laugh out loud to myself as I roll down the blinds. I’ve never masturbated in the office before. Haven’t needed to.

No woman has ever gotten me so worked up that I couldn’t just put my lust aside and continue with business.

I lock the door and pull down the zipper of my trousers to release my hard cock.

Fuck I’m so ready. What a waste.

This is what I’ve resorted to. Instead of focusing on a multi-million-pound acquisition, I am hand fucking myself in a shitty, make-shift office.

I wrap my fist around my poor aching cock and start stroking.

I need something to get me there quicker.

The video.

In the end, I didn’t have the guts to ask Tristan. There was no plausible reason I could come up with as to why I’d need a video of his sister singing. He knew when I was on the chase, and he’d see right through me.

No, like a true stalker, I gained access to the CCTV from the bar that night, citing I had my watch stolen. They knew it was a ten grand watch. They gave up the footage with no argument.

With my dick in one hand, I scroll impatiently through my phone with the other.

Bingo.

There’s that beautiful face. I could stare at those green eyes forever.

I turn down the sound and stare at the soft mouth with the luscious lips. What I wouldn’t do to bite down on that lip.

I imagine my hands running up her body, cupping those breasts, my mouth biting and sucking those glorious nipples. Pulling her legs apart, reaching my hand down into her warm core; pushing my fingers into her. Imagine finger fucking her until her legs give in. Hearing her moan as she screams my name. My name.

Yes. I’m close.

I pump my cock hard, watching it swell in my hands, my climax building.

The door handle rattles from the outside.

What the fuck?

How is it turning?

I locked it.

Except it’s not locked.

The 2D vision on my phone turns into a 3D version as she storms through the door, flapping paper in front of her face.

She stops abruptly, the papers falling to the floor as her eyes travel downward.

“Don’t you knock?” I growl, breathing hard.

She doesn’t answer me. Instead, she just stands there, watching me with my hand on my cock.

Her jaw hangs open.

Her flushed cheeks and dilated pupils tell me she likes what she sees. She wants it.

A small whimper escapes her, pushing me over the edge.

It’s too late. I’m too far gone. I can’t stop this train wreck.

I climax hard, groaning as my juices spurt out into the tissue.

Her eyes travel upwards and lock onto mine, shocked.

“This is a private office,” I snarl as I wipe my semen on the tissue. “You can’t just waltz in whenever you feel like it. Didn’t you see the fucking blinds down? Do you think you have special rights?”

She opens her mouth to speak then closes it.

I’m furious. With which one of us, I cannot fathom. Her for storming through my office uninvited or me for not being able to stop myself from erupting in front of her.

She bends down to fumble with the papers she dropped, and I realise just how nervous she is.

“Sorry,” I say softer as she scrabbles with the paper on the floor. I fix myself back in my pants. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“I wanted to talk about my employment contract,” she stammers, staring at the floor. “I’ll come back when you have your hands free.”

I laugh despite my compromising situation. The girl is sassy, I’ll give her that.

The door slams shut.

I freeze. The car will be outside now for the awards ceremony. Did I really just finish myself off in front of an employee? In front of Tristan’s little sister?

I breathe out sharply. I’ve been in hot water before, in situations where HR had to intervene, and had one too many libel cases brought against me, but this is a whole new level.

I laugh hard.

This could be the biggest fuck up of my career and yet the most arousing.

Charlie

I close the door and hear him fumble with the latch behind me.

Did that just happen?

Did I really interrupt Danny Walker’s most private moment and just stand there and watch?

Michelle, his PA, looks at me questioningly from behind her desk. “Anything else you need?”

Yes, please, a tub of ice to submerge myself in, to stop burning up.

I must look strange, standing here frozen to the spot clinging to documents.

“No,” I respond in a jerky voice, walking off. I need to steady my breathing.

He saw me and didn’t stop. He kept his gaze on me and kept going until he ejaculated, right there with me watching.

I can say, without a doubt, that was the most sexually charged experience of my life despite the fact I wasn’t directly involved. I never took myself for a voyeur before.

I’m slick between the legs. Watching him come undone in front of me has turned me into a bitch in heat.

I need to get out of the office. My vagina is throbbing.

The look on his face. His orgasm face. Something I never thought I’d get to see.

Watching his liquid spurt out, so much of it, I wanted him to empty inside me. Every last drop. It was so damn thick, so angry looking. Like it could tear me apart. I wanted to run and grab it in my hands and bury it deep in me.

And those eyes. How he stared at me with such conflicting anger and lust. No man has ever looked at me like that before.

No wonder women fling themselves at him.

He’s destroyed me. I’ll never be able to have sex with another man again without being disappointed.

I take a slow, deep breath as I get into the elevator.

The employment contract shakes in my hands, the ends of it saturated in sweat. I’ll have to print another one.

Mr. Big Shot Danny Walker, multi-millionaire CEO, so in control of every part of his life and everything around him, caught with his hand down his pants masturbating to a video with me in it.

I smile to myself like a fool.

He thinks I didn’t see the video. It was from the party; I recognised the blue lights of the stage. I don’t know who took it, though, it seemed to be from a bird’s eye view.

Was it me that he was masturbating to? Or Jen?

I look down to see soaking patches under my arms. Same as between my legs.

At least I’ve time to change before the speed dating event Julie has bullied me into this evening. Although how I’m supposed to make light conversation with a load of dudes after witnessing that is beyond me. I need some serious advice and hard liquor to navigate through this one.