Chapter 1- Whispers in the Shadows

Samara’s POV

“Are you still here?” My body jerks in my seat at the sound of my boss, Mr. Jones’ voice from the door to my office. “I’m sorry.” He says apologetically, a reassuring smile spreading across his handsome face. “I didn’t mean to startle you Samara.” His body shifts as he moves his weight from his right foot to his left, his right hand moving up to rub along the base of his neck in uneasiness. “I saw the light on and thought I would come check on you.”

An amused smile lifts up the corners of my lips. Mr. Jones always seemed uncomfortable in his own skin despite the fact that he is one of the most handsome men I have ever seen in my life. At six foot two he is quite the sight to see no matter your sexual orientation. With jet black hair that frames around his face perfectly and the most alluring blue eyes I have ever seen on a person, he was definitely a sight worth seeing. 

His blue eyes meet my hazel colored orbs expectantly, making me realize that I have yet to say a word to him since his arrival in my office. I clear my throat from lack of speaking before I finally address Mr. Jones’ appearance in my office. “I had some last minute things to finish up before the meeting tomorrow.” I cast him a sheepish look before I move to rise from my seat. 

My legs threaten to give out on me as I pull my five foot six inch frame from the less than comfortable chair that sits behind my desk. The heels that usually grace my feet wobble beneath me, nearly sending me falling back down into my chair. With a grunt of frustration, I pull myself up to my full height and stretch my back backwards, my hands planted on my hips for leverage. 

I can see heat fill Mr. Jones’ eyes from the corner of my eyes as my handful sized breasts jut out in my skin tight dress that I painstakingly picked out this morning in the hopes that I would catch his attention. A spark of daring moves through my system, causing me to linger in my exposed pose for longer than necessary, allowing Mr. Jones more time to admire my athletic frame. 

A smirk slowly spreads across my face as the heat in Mr. Jones’ eyes increase with every second that I linger in my current position. Letting out a quiet huff of air that was clearly too loud for the blaringly quiet room, I stand my body up straight and look Mr. Jones in his eyes. He shakes his head slightly, removing the cobwebs that have taken over his brain. 

Mr. Jones goes to speak once more, but his voice comes out a hoarse squeak, causing him to clear the lump from his throat left behind by my emboldened behaviour.  “It is late Samara.” His gruff voice flows over my skin like a siren’s song, beckoning for me to go to him and strip away his clothing. 

A jolt of desire shoots through my body at the thought of finding out just what lies beneath the tailored suits that Mr. Jones drapes himself in every day. Something flashes in Mr. Jones’ eyes when I finally find the strength to tear my eyes away from the wide expanse of his chest. Suddenly, he turns away from me, effectively breaking the spell that had taken hold of the both of us. 

Embarrassment heats up my cheeks, changing them from their normal pale color to that of a flaming red. I click my tongue in irritation, disappointed with myself that I acted so brazen with my boss. I bend over to grab the bag that I carry my laptop back and forth with and quickly snatch up the device and shove it inside, before rising up and facing Mr. Jones once again. 

His eyes watched my every move like a predator stalking its prey. Another jolt of arousal rockets through my system at the thought of Mr. Jones pouncing on me and tearing away my clothing. We would clear away the papers littering my desk and do it right here. Mr. Jones would rock into me fast and hard until we were both screaming with our release. 

A choked sound leaves Mr. Jones’ lips, pulling me from my very detailed fantasy and back to the reality of my current situation. More heat floods my cheeks, moving down my neck until both my neck and chest are colored the same red as my face. “If you will excuse me.” I mumble under my breath, moving towards the door that Mr. Jones currently still blocks. 

My eyes move up to study his face when he makes no move away from the door, effectively keeping me trapped in my cramped office that seems all the smaller with his much larger frame taking up space inside of it. We stare at each other for what feels like eternity before Mr. Jones steps aside and makes space for me to exit. 

Disappointment moves through me as I make my way out of my office. Mr. Jones flicks the light switch just inside of the door and closes the door behind him before he falls into step beside me as I make my way over towards the hall of elevators. “I should walk you to your car-” I hold my hand up to interrupt his words. 

If Mr. Jones follows me down to my car then I will only embarrass myself more than I already have. “I leave around this time more times than I can count, I will be fine on my own.” I flash him my most winning smile, relishing in the way his eyes soften around the corners as they search my face intensely. 

Mr. Jones lets out a resigned sigh, nodding his head in acquiescence. When he leans forward to press the elevator button, his muscular arm rubs against my breasts, sending a thrill of excitement throughout my body and causing my breath to catch in my throat. His body goes still, his arm still barely touches the side of my left breast as his finger hovers over the elevator button.

The sound of heels clacking along the ceramic floor snaps him from his trance and sends his body into motion. With quick movements, he pushes the elevator call button and pulls away from me quickly as if my touch burned him. With a final warning to “be careful”, Mr. Jones turns and walks away to meet his assistant before she gets too close to the elevators. 

My eyes track his movement as he makes his way down the hallway, his hips swaying deliciously in his perfectly tailored dress pants that hugs his ass just right. The dinging of the elevator arriving on the eighth floor startled me, causing me to jump in place and nearly drop the bag that was slowly falling from my grasp as I ogled at my boss. 

Turning away from the intoxicating sight of my boss’s ass swaying back and forth, I throw myself in the elevator and slam my finger on the P1 button harder than what is necessary. The doors stay open longer than I feel is necessary, mocking me with the quickly disappearing sight of my boss and recurring wet dream guest. 

When the doors finally close, blocking off the sight of Mr. Jones, I slump against the wall of the elevator and release the breath I was holding during my wait. Shaking my head, I call myself a fool repeatedly in my head for drooling over a man that would never be interested in me. My thoughts were still tormenting and distracting me when I finally made my way down to the parking level.

Thanks to my distraction, I completely missed the shadow that pulled away from the wall and made their way towards me until it was too late. A cry tries to tear from my lips, but the sound is quickly snuffed out by one beefy hand covered in a white cloth. My vision begins to get hazy as I feel my body being dragged across the parking area towards what I can vaguely make out is a white van. 

The situation would amuse me if I wasn’t in such dire straits. If only I had taken Mr. Jones up on his offer to walk me to my car. My last thought before everything goes dark around me.