Bad Mistake

It was Friday night, one week into my internship under Mr. Williams, and it was not what I was expecting. I expected him to sneak me into his office between every meeting and have his way with me, not give me piles upon piles of work to do.

“You’re not finished with your hours for today, Mila,” Mr. Williams said to me just as I said good-bye to him to leave for the weekend.

He gestured to the door, and I shut it behind me and stared at the great CEO behind the desk. He cocked one finger in my direction and patted the desk next to him. “Come here.”

After blowing out a deep breath and trying to ease the ache between my legs that wouldn’t go away all week, I sauntered over to the side of his desk and gazed down at him. “What do you need help with, Mr. Williams?” I asked, trying to keep this as professional as I could. He hadn’t touched me all week.

He hadn’t flirted with me all week. He had barely looked at me all week. But today … today, I could see that he needed to be relieved and