Chapter Text
You stare into your own eyes, desperately trying to soothe your own heartbeat as you scan over your outfit. It was the first day of your new job: a legal secretary at Lady Justice Law. You smooth your hands over your pencil skirt, run a brush through your hair one last time, and gather your purse. You didn’t have the best track record when it came to jobs. Your last secretary job was at an oil and gas company and you assisted the CEO. He was a complete dick, constantly trying to grope you and when he wasn’t borderline harassing you, he was calling you names. Occasionally you would forget a copy of paperwork or get his coffee order wrong, resulting in items from his desk to go flying across the room. You lived your day to day in constant fear of the man.
You had almost given up on the secretary career all-together, eager to never work for a money-hungry narcissist ever again. Until you heard about this job opening. The job had amazing pay, amazing benefits, and much more job security. You had no experience being a legal secretary but you crushed your interview, winning the heart of the adorable interviewer, a woman in her 80’s who had worked for the law firm since she was your age. She had been a legal secretary for decades and finally decided to retire, leaving her position at the law firm open for an young new candidate.
Once you learned they had offered you the job, you looked up the name of the man in which you would be assisting. Hiromi Higuruma. A famous defense attorney. You had seen his picture plastered on billboards and advertisements but didn’t know much about him personally. With a few google searches and skim throughs of articles, you were enamored by the man. You laid back on your bed, mind racing with the images of the dark haired man day in and day out before finally picking up the phone and accepting the damn job.
You walk through the doors of the law firm, taking in your new atmosphere. It was a large building and on the top floor was your new office. The walls are lined with large windows that overlook that bustling city. Your eyes meet the receptionist, a younger girl with a bright smile.
“Good morning, how may I help you today?” She beams up at you.
“Oh, hello,” you clear your throat. “I am looking for Mr. Higuruma?”
“Oh, yes! Mr. Higuruma!” The receptionist looks through her paper schedule on her desk. “It looks like he—“
“I’m here, Marge. Thank you,” a low voice booms from behind her.
A tall man stands in the doorway. He wears a well-tailored suit which showcases his wide frame. His legs are long as he steps towards you, reaching a large hand out. You grip his hand, shaking firmly.
“You must be the new legal secretary,” he says.
“Oh my gosh! How could I have forgotten!” The receptionist, Marge stands from her seat, pulling you into a tight hug.
You laugh at her forwardness, gently patting her back. “Nice to meet you,” you say as she pulls away.
You look back towards the man. His features were prominent, a sharp jawline and a hooked nose. His eyes drew you in, large and downturned. His dark hair was slicked back but a few strands managed to fall over his forehead. He was more striking in person than he was on the gigantic billboards that were plastered over the busy highway.
“Follow me to my office. I would like to speak with you about the job,” he says. You nod, following close behind him as the two of you walked down the hallway and towards his office. Your heart thumped in your chest, suddenly your stomach churned and you had second thoughts about your ability to work under such an attractive boss.
“Please have a seat,” he says, rounding his desk to sit in his own chair. You sit in the leather chair in front of his desk, crossing your legs under your pencil skirt.
“I’ve heard good things about you from our previous secretary,” he says, shuffling papers on his desk before finding your resume. “It says here that you worked as a secretary for… D&P?”
“Yes sir, that was an oil and gas company and—“ you start.
“So, not a law firm,” Higuruma cuts in.
“No… not a law firm,” you reply in a small voice.
“Look,” he says, sitting up in his seat. “I’m giving you a chance because our previous secretary adored you and that’s it. The job of a legal secretary is not something to be taken lightly.” You swallow, mimicking him by also sitting up in your seat.
“I have many places I need to be and many people I need to see. I have court appearances, consultations, and strategy planning. I need someone reliable. Can you be reliable?” He says, a downturned gaze piercing into you.
You nod immediately, “Yes, I’m very reliable!”
“You will need to make appointments for me, keep my schedule detailed and up to date, be prepared to send and file documents at a moment's notice, and correspond with my clients,” he says.
You open your mouth to speak before he cuts you off, again. “In other words, I need you,” he says, softer. “You are my eyes and ears when I am busy.” Butterflies flutter through your abdomen. You open your mouth to speak, left speechless at his monologue.
He looks back down at your resume and narrows his eyes, “I see you… quit your last job?”
“Oh, yes. I didn’t have much of an option. Me and my previous boss didn’t really… see eye to eye,” you say, rubbing your palms against your skirt.
“I see,” he says, placing your resume back on the table. “Let’s hope that me and you see eye to eye. You won’t be the first legal secretary I kick to the curb.”
You narrow your eyes. His aloof facial expression made him impossible to read.
“I’m joking,” he says, face still plain.
“Oh,” you laugh softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I’ve never fired someone and I don’t expect to anytime soon,” he stands from his desk.
“Your desk is right this way,” he motions to the open door.
You stand, following him to the room directly beside his. A large wooden door opens from his office into yours. You gasp at the large window and the stunning view of the city. You place your purse on the desk, hand grazing the glass top.
“This is gorgeous,” you spin to face him. Your breath is caught in your throat at the sudden closeness of the two of you. You look up at his soft smile, smell of his mahogany and rosemary cologne intoxicating you.
“Make yourself right at home,” he says, watching as you open each drawer of your new desk. “I’m right next door and unless I’m away for business I will always be in there.” He walks back towards his desk before stopping in the doorway, “Oh, and— I would prefer if you left your office door open. It makes it easier to talk to you.”
“Yes, of course, Mr. Higuruma,” you say, sitting in your own desk chair.
“Please… call me Hiromi,” he says with a smile.
“Hiromi,” you nod, cheeks burning.
He pats the doorway, leaving you to your own devices. You unpack your purse with everything you had brought for your new office. You log on to your new computer, already overwhelmed with the amount of emails, notifications and items on your to-do list. It seemed like the previous secretary didn’t clear out anything for you. The life of a defense attorney never slowed down, though. You click on a shared google calendar. There were no white spaces. He had a full schedule for the day.
You hear Higuruma’s desk chair slide out from his desk. Your eyes glance at his calendar. Wimberly: 8:00am.
“I’m going to smoke,” he says as he walks towards his office door.
“You have a meeting in 5 minutes?” You ask, looking for your computer.
“I’m going to smoke,” he repeats, shutting his office door behind him. Being an attorney was stressful, apparently.
You hear a soft tap on your doorframe and see Marge standing in the doorway. “I was waiting until he went out to smoke,” she giggled as she sat in front of your desk. “I’m so happy there’s another girl in the office!”
“Oh,” you smile. “Is it just us two?”
“Mhm!” She leans forward. “I’m still in college so I work here as a receptionist part time. I want to be a lawyer someday! Do you want to be a lawyer?”
You shake your head, organizing your desk. “Oh, not at all. I wouldn’t mind working as a secretary for the future. It’s stable and people always need secretaries,” you say.
“That's for sure. We had Beverly, the woman before you, for years! She was nice but old so she was forgetful of a lot of stuff. Lawyers are picky about their secretaries,” Marge says.
“I hope Mr. Higurama can make use of me, then,” you reply.
“Is he scary? He scares me!” She says, looking at you with wide eyes.
You laugh, “Him? Scary? Compared to my old boss, he seems like the pope.”
She winced, “Your old boss was a pain, wasn’t he?”
You nod, opening your mouth to speak.
His office door opens. The two girls hear the sound of his dress shoes slapping the ground as he rounds his desk. “Marge, please stop bothering her. We’re expecting the Wimberly’s at any second,” Higurama says. Marge shoots up from the chair, retreating back to her receptionist station.
“Could you bring me the file on the Wimberly’s?” Higuruma shouts from his office. You spin around in your chair, looking for any stacks of paperwork before he answers your question as if reading your mind. “Filing cabinet behind you. Everything will be there,” he says.
You open the drawer labeled V-Y and thumb through the files before finding a folder titled Wimberly . You pick it up, walking towards his office. He takes the folder from you, opening it wide and spreading the documents over the table. You watch as his dark eyes dart back and forth on the paper. He sits back in his chair, taking a deep sigh.
“Are you—okay?” You ask, titling your head.
He rubs his hands over his face, looking at you through the cracks in his fingers. “I’m fine, doll. This job is a lot. You’ll learn,” he groans as the phone on his desk beeps.
“Mr. Higuruma, the Wimberly’s are here,” Marge’s voice says on the other line.
“Send them in,” he replies.
You walk towards your own room. “Wait,” his voice stops you in your tracks. “Stay in here with me. I may need you,” he says, motioning towards a seat beside him.
You sit beside him, watching him thumb through any last minute information before there is a small knock on the door. The tapping of his foot stops as he stands to his feet. All signs of anxiety washed from him as his clients walked into the room. He stood in front of his table, shaking the hands of the young man in front of him and the crying mother who stood beside him.
“Here, please take a seat,” he says, motioning towards the two seats in front of his desk. The man takes a seat, followed by his mother who wipes her tears with a tissue. You place the file on his desk, noticing the dust that flies into the air. You run a finger along the glass on his desk, finger stained black. You scrunch your nose, wiping the filth on your lap before he could notice.
“Well, first and foremost, good morning. We have a new face in here today,” Higuruma motions towards you. “This is my new legal secretary so if by any chance you call me, you are awarded the pleasure of hearing this sweet voice,” he says.
You look away, cheeks stained red. Usually such bold flirting would gross you out. With Higurama, it made you feel different. You wanted his attention on you. Higuruma watches closely as the eyes of the client scan over your body, lingering a little too long over your legs, covered by sheer pantyhose.
“Secondly, we must talk about your charges,” he lifts a paper from his file. “I see you have been charged with Actual Possession of a Controlled Substance. For the level of drug, you could be facing several months in jail and a hefty fine,” he says plainly. You watch as the mother bursts into tears, burying her face into the tissue. The man’s eyes never leave your frame as Higurama speaks.
“Don’t cry, ma’am,” Higuruma says, sliding over a fresh box of tissues. “I have years of experience fighting these very charges and I am very successful,” he assures. The mother lifts her head, nodding at his promise. “So, we have a few options,” he begins, spreading out an array of paperwork.
The meeting drones on and you listen intently as Higuruma speaks, detailing their strategy. He has worked plenty of cases with these judges and understands this system like the back of his hand. Occasionally he would ask you to retrieve a piece of information or take down a note. The mother eventually stopped crying, feeling at ease by Higuruma’s kind words and promises for his son’s innocent verdict.
Higuruma stands as the two clients join him. “If you didn’t have any more questions, my secretary here can walk you two out,” Higuruma smiles, placing a hand on the small of your back as he motions towards you. You walk the clients to the end of the hallway before the man turns to look at you.
“If it wasn’t too much trouble,” the client starts, “it might be easier to contact you if I had… your cell number?” You narrow your eyes up at him, opening your mouth to speak.
“Let’s worry about getting your case won before we start flirting with the lawyer’s secretary,” Higuruma says from behind you. You jump, not expecting his presence, you clutch your chest. He reaches a long arm around you to lean against the doorframe. Your body is caged in by his wingspan.
The man blinks up at him, nodding in embarrassment before retreating back to his mother and walking out the door.
“I’ll have to get used to that,” Higuruma sighs, turning on his heels and walking back towards his office.
“Get used to what?” You say, jogging to keep up with his large strides.
“My clients flirting with you,” he groans, entering his office again.
You follow behind him, gathering the contents of the file on his desk and holding them in your arms, “How did you know he was flirting with me? He was just asking for my phone number.”
He sits at his desk, crossing his leg over his knee. “So you’re beautiful and oblivious,” he sighs.
You clutch the file to your chest, glaring at the man who sits beneath you, “If you’re going to hit on me, at least divorce your wife.”
His mouth quirks into a smirk, “Not married, doll.” He holds up a naked ring finger. Your eyes gaze over his long fingers and catch on his watch. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m no better than my client,” he clears his throat.
“I don’t mind,” you say softly, walking back towards your desk. “But if you start copping a feel like my last boss, you’ll regret it,” you say through narrow eyes. You point a finger at the man before sitting at your own desk. You were lying straight through your teeth.
You replace the file in the cabinet before continuing with your work. Occasionally Higuruma would send you on an errand such as making a copy or adding paperwork to a file. You scheduled and canceled appointments, answered phone calls, and organized the mess that the previous secretary had let your desk in.
You brought an array of items from your previous job. A mousepad that looked like a rug, a fluffy pencil holder, and an assortment of lotions, perfumes, and other essentials that you unpacked into your desk. By the end of the work day, you had made your office your new home away from home.
The next few days came and went. The life of a legal secretary wasn’t always exhilarating but you were accustomed to the slow pace of an office job. Not that you weren’t busy, most of your time was penciled in as tightly as Higuruma’s schedule. Higuruma spent most of his days on the phone or looking over a scattered array of paperwork. You learned quickly that the dark circles under his eyes were there for a reason.
Your phone rings. You pick it up and press it to your ear, “Lady Justice Law, Hiromi Higuruma’s office. How may I help you?” You answer.
“ I need to see him today,” the voice on the other end replies.
“Oh, I’m sorry sir but we do not have an available appointment today. I could squeeze you in tomorr—“
“ Tomorrow won’t work. I need today, ” he cuts you off.
You sign, squeezing the bridge of your nose with your index and thumb. “Like I said, Mr. Higuruma does not have an available appointment today. I could pencil you in—“
“ What’s the point in me paying so much money if I can’t even see the fucking guy?” He replies, growing less patient.
“Well, maybe you should have scheduled sooner if it was such a dire situation. Tomorrow at 8:10 is the soonest I can do for you, sir,” you say sternly.
After a few moans and groans, the man on the phone surrenders to the 8:10am appointment. You glanced at the clock that ticks in front of you. 4:05pm. You had just under an hour until quitting time.
You found a small cleaning supply in one of your drawers and you get to work. Starting by dusting, you run the duster over every surface in your own office. You work into every cubby and shelf before poking your head into Higuruma’s office. His face is buried into a book, holding the phone to his ear with the other hand. You sneak in quietly, running the duster over his shelves as dust flies into the air.
He furrowed his eyebrows, covering the speaker of the phone with his hand. “Cleaning isn’t your job description, doll,” he says quietly.
You put a finger to your lips, “Shh. You’re on the phone.” You continue in your dusting, making your way behind his desk. You lift up the papers which cover his tabletop gently, swiping the duster underneath. He helps you by lifting the book he’s reading out of as you dust beneath it. He places the book back on the table, eyes watching you intensely as you organize his papers on his desk. You disappear back in your office, pulling out a bottle of all-purpose cleaner. You spray down your own desk, wiping a rag over it. You repeat the process over all of your surfaces before returning to his office.
Higuruma sighs, picking his book up for you to wipe beneath it again. He watches as you bend over his desk, running the rag over the cleaner as your skirt slowly creeps up your legs, showcasing the underneath of your thighs.
You hear him shift in his seat as he hangs up the phone. “I didn’t hire you to be my maid,” he says as you stand up.
You look down at him, crossing your arms, “I’m sorry but your office was a complete mess. How do you think a client will feel when you can’t even keep your own desk in order?”
He smiles up at you softly as his sleepy looking eyes scan over your face, “Come out with me tonight.”
“Come out with you?” You say, raising an eyebrow.
“Just for some drinks, that’s all. You can say no, only if you want to break my heart,” he replies.
“Will you be paying?” You smirk, continuing in your cleaning.
“Who do you think I am?” He says, shutting his book.
You shrug, “Sure. Just drinks.” You turn on your heels, hiding your bright red face as you return to your office.
You hear his soft chuckle from his office as you return to your desk. You cover your face in your hands, trying your best to steady your heart rate. Did your boss just ask you out on a date? Regardless, he was much different than your last boss. He didn’t make you feel like you needed a shower after he hit on you. You wanted to be closer to him, to grip on to the collar of his suit jacket. To feel his hands run up your side.
“Ready, doll?” his voice grounds you. You spin in your chair, throwing your purse over your shoulder.
“Yep!” you reply, standing to your feet in front of him.
He places an unlit cigarette in between his lips, looking around at your new additions. “It’s cute in here,” he says, sliding his cart of cigarettes back into his pocket.
“Well, I figure I will be spending a lot of time here,” you shrug.
He nods, placing a hand on your back as he walks you towards the door. Marge and the other employees seemed to already have left for the day. You reach the elevator, stepping inside before him as he pushes the button.
“There’s a spot next door I go to sometimes after work,” he says, flicking the unlit cigarette in his mouth. The elevator doors slide open as you walk through the lobby and into the chilly outside air. He drops his black suit jacket over your shoulders as you turn to face him.
“One second,” he says softly, lighting the cigarette in his mouth before returning his lighter to his pocket.
“Really?” you glare up at him.
He shrugs, taking a drag of his cigarette, “Bad habit of mine.”
“Do you know how much more time in the day you would have if you didn’t leave to smoke every hour?” You ask, holding his jacket to you closely.
He takes the cigarette out of his mouth, “Let me have my one vice.”
“Can I try at least?” You say, standing on your tip-toes.
“Not a chance,” he inhales.
“ What the hell?” you say, crossing your arms.
“You’re too pretty to smoke,” he says, pulling the cigarette from his lips as he exhales.
You scrunch your eyebrows together, pointing up at him, “But you do it.”
“It’s too late for me, my insides are already burnt to a crisp,” he says, placing the cigarette back into his lips.
You watch as he places the cigarette back in between his lips, closing his eyes as he inhales. He flicks the cigarette back on the ground, using his toe to step it into the ground before replacing his hand on your back. The two of you walk towards the bar next door. A smaller building with amber colored lighting illuminating the collection of liquor bottles that lined the wall. You slide onto a stool in front of the bar as Higuruma sits beside you.
“What can I get started for you two?” The bartender asks. Higuruma looks at you, awaiting your response.
“Martini, please,” you say.
“Bourbon, neat,” Higurama says.
You take his jacket off of your shoulders, placing it on the back of your seat as the bartender gets to work. You turn to face the man, “So, why this career?”
“Hm?” He says.
“I don’t know. Usually people have some sort of noble reason for wanting to become a lawyer like ‘I want to save the world!’ Or something,” you say.
He shrugs, “I believe every person deserves someone to fight for them.”
“Even if they should be in jail?” You ask.
“Excuse my language, doll, but— the system is fucked. Most of my clients are good people who got caught up with some bad people. Rarely do I represent a violent person,” he says, taking the glass of whiskey from the bartender.
You look towards your Martini. “Do you win a lot?” You ask.
“I’m a damn good lawyer. But I’m no hero,” he smiles before bringing his glass to his lips. “I’ll be an even better lawyer, now, with you at my side.”
You smile, covering your bashfulness by taking a drink. “I’m just a secretary,” you say shyly.
His large hand finds your knee, rubbing his thumb pad softly against your pantyhose. “Don’t downplay your role. You’re very important and to me—my career as a lawyer,” he says.
You watch his fingers as they graze over the skin in between your legs. “I’m a good lawyer, but I’m terrible at a lot of things. Answering phones, for example. Cleaning, organizing,” he says.
“What did you ever do without me?” You smirk, taking a drink.
“Now you understand,” he laughs. “So, why secretary? Do you have a noble reason for your career?”
You laugh, setting your glass back down on the table. “What? I’m serious,” he continues with a grin. “ I’ll save the world one copy at a time,” he says sarcastically. His crouches to look you at eye-level, hand never leaving your leg.
“I guess if you count putting food on the table as a heroic cause, I am pretty brave,” you say. He laughs, motioning towards the bartender to replace your drinks.
“So tell me,” you continue. “Did you flirt with the last secretary?”
“Beverly?” He says with a chuckle. “She was a sweetheart but I think she was a little old for my liking, doll.”
You shrug, bringing your new glass to your lips, “I don’t know what your type is.”
“Did you let your last boss take you out for drinks?” He asks, quirking an eyebrow.
You look down at him. “He wanted me so bad,” you say softly, lowering your eyelids teasingly.
“Tell him to get in line,” he starts. “Although, I may be a little old for your type,” he says. You could smell the whiskey and cigarettes on his breath.
“I don’t know,” you lean toward, gripping his tie in your fist. “I like my men a little older. Tired and overworked. With a crippling cigarette dependency.”
He smirks, “Come home with me.”
“I don’t fuck on the first date,” you say, teasingly.
“I thought you said it was just drinks?” He asks.
“I lied,” you smirk.
He sits up in his barstool, sliding cash over the table to pay for your drinks. “Please don’t wear that skirt, tomorrow. It’ll kill me,” he says, watching you giggle as you slide off your stool.
He stands from his seat, returning his jacket to your shoulders as the two of you step back into the bustling street. “At least let me walk you home. It’s too late for you to walk by yourself,” he asks, looking down at you.
“I’ll allow it,” you smile, walking down the sidewalk. He strides beside you, quickly catching up to you. His long strides made it impossible for you to stray too far from him.
He cups his hand around a cigarette, lighting it before placing his free hand on your shoulder. “Do you usually walk this way home?” He asks.
You nod, “It isn’t too far.”
“I don’t like that. It’s too busy around here. I’m not too far away from this street,” he says, taking a drag of the cigarette. “Let me walk you home after work from now on,” he says as smoke exits his mouth.
“I guess it can’t hurt,” you shrug, turning the corner. “I’m right here,” you motion towards the front door of your complex. You slide his jacket off of your shoulders, passing it back to him.
He looks down at you, space between the two of you closing. “Have a good night,” he says softly. You look up at him, lips slightly parted as your eyes study the shape of his own.
“Can I kiss you?” He rasps.
A smirk forms on your face, “No.” You giggle, gripping the back of his neck with your hands. You pull his face to yours, pressing your lips against his cheek before pulling away. “See you tomorrow!” You wave, disappearing into your apartment lobby. He stands, jacket slung over his arm, face burning.
“Goodmorning, ma’am!” Marge exclaims as you walk through the doors. You hold a drink carrier of coffees.
“Morning, Marge!” You beam, passing her an iced coffee as she takes it in both hands.
Her eyes widening, “Ooh, thank you! My favorite!”
You walk down the hallway, heels echoing with every step as you enter Higuruma’s office. His eyes snap from his computer to your frame. “Good morning, doll,” he says smoothly.
“Good morning, Mr. Higuruma,” you say, passing him a hot black coffee.
“I told you to not call me that,” he says, taking the coffee. “Also, you don’t have to bring coffee every morning. We have interns and assistants for that,” he says.
“A thank you would be nice,” you say, sliding past him as you bend at the hips, placing your own coffee on the desk.
Higuruma clears his throat, “I thought I told you to not wear that skirt.”
You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, “It’s a different skirt,” you reply.
He sighs, looking back towards his computer. “You will kill me one day,” he says under his breath. “And then you’ll have to find a different lawyer to represent you. How tragic.”
You giggle quietly. For such a professional and serious looking man, he was really quite dramatic. “You have a busy day today, so stop jabbering and start getting ready,” you say, sitting at your desk. He sighs, looking over his schedule for the day.
“I’m gonna smoke before it gets too busy,” he says as he slides out from his desk, quickly exiting.
You sigh, shaking your head as the phone on his desk rings. You quickly walk to his phone, picking it up and placing it to your ear. “Hello?” You answer.
“Sending Chaney in!” You hear Marge’s voice reply on the other line.
“Oh, Marge—“ you attempt to inform her of Higurama’s smoke break but is cut off. The man, Chaney, you assume, stands in the doorway.
“Oh, hello,” you say. “He stepped out but he will be right back in!”
The man grunts, sitting in the chair in front of Higurama’s desk. “Are you the useless one I spoke to on the phone yesterday?” He says.
You narrow your eyes, “Useless?”
“I didn’t appreciate your prissy attitude. I’m sure that your boss would love to hear about it,” the man says with a smirk.
Before you could open your mouth, Higuruma speaks from the doorway, “What would her boss love to hear, exactly?”
The man turns in his seat to face him, “She had a very bitchy attitude over the phone.”
“You can leave,” Higuruma says, stepping aside to leave the doorway clear.
“What? I’m not going to—“
“Leave,” Higuruma says, pointing towards the door. “I won’t represent clients who speak to my secretary in that way,” he says, coldly.
The man stands from his seat, anger heightening as he steps towards you. “What has the legal system come to?” He says. You take a step back as the man towers over you.
Higurama steps in front of you, looking at the man eye-level. “Do I need to call the authorities?”
The man stops, looking at Higurama with wide eyes. “No,” he replies softer. “I need a lawyer. Please,” the man’s voice is pleading.
Higuruma points towards the door. “I do not sacrifice the safety of my team,” he says.
The man’s pleading eyes turn angry, “Fuck all of you.” He walks out of Higuruma’s office. He follows him closely, ensuring he doesn’t threaten Marge on the way out.
You return to your seat, hands shaking as you desperately attempt to continue your work. Eventually Higuruma returns, shutting his door behind him softly.
“I’m sorry, doll,” he says quietly. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” You shake your head, eyes glued to your computer screen.
Higuruma walks behind your desk, crouching on the ground as he turns your office chair to face him. Tears well up in your eyes.
“What happened?” Higuruma asks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with furrowed brows.
“I’m okay,” you laugh, trying to brush it off.
He isn’t convinced, he takes your hands in his, “What happened?” He repeats.
You swallow, “My last boss… he was violent, when he got angry he would throw things and scream at us and I don’t know—I didn’t think you would but I—got a little scared.”
His eyes soften, using a hand to cup your cheek, “My job here is to protect my team, not hurt them.”
You nod, looking towards your hands. He places a kiss on your hands before standing, “Go get some fresh air, go on a walk. Do whatever you need. I can hold down the fort for a few hours.”
You wipe your face, suddenly embarrassed, “I’ll be okay, really! We have a busy day today.”
He frowns, “If you say so. Don’t overwork yourself, doll. You’re the one that’s supposed to keep my head on.”
He returns to his desk, occasionally peeking over his computer to make sure you were feeling better. And you were. You were used to explosiveness and hostility in the workplace, so you bounced back quickly. Your body relaxed overtime, feeling safe in the comfort of Higuruma’s presence as you worked. The day went on as usual, phone calls and meetings and phone calls and meetings.
Marge popped her head into the office, “I’m heading out for the night!”
“Bye!” You wave at her with a smile as she skips down the hallway. Slowly each office light on your floor turned off as people closed down for the night. Higuruma had tasked you with reorganizing the files that Beverly had left out of order. Caught up in your work, you finally glance at the clock.
“Oh, shit. It’s nearly 7,” you say under your breath.
You peek into Higuruma’s office. His back is turned from you, as his head is buried into a large book.
“Working late?” You ask, walking up behind his chair.
“I could ask you the same,” he replies, shoulders tense as he reads.
You frown, placing both hands on his wide shoulders. You slowly knead his muscles in your hand. He straightens his back, leaning into your touch.
He groans softly as your hands work down his back. “You’re so sweet,” you whisper into his ear. “Working so hard.”
He swallows as your hands travel down his front. You press gentle kisses on the side of his face as your hand grips the growing length in his pants. He clears his throat, hand wrapping around your forearm.
“Should I stop?” You ask into his ear.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart,” he says in a low voice.
You spin his desk chair around to face you. His hands run up and down the side of your body. He stands from his seat, lifting you onto his desk as he pushes your skirt up to your stomach. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face to yours as your lips connect. You part your mouth slightly, allowing his tongue entry as he plays with the waistband of your panties. His hands run down your legs, tugging on your thigh high tights.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he groans in your ear, kissing down your neck. “Sauntering around the office all day in those tight skirts. Bending over in front of me,” his voice becomes hungry as he pushes the piece of cloth which covers your dripping cunt to the side. He slides a long finger through your folds as your grip on his neck tightens. Your jaw drops open as his finger slowly drags in and out of you.
“Don’t get shy now, all you’ve done is tease me for a week,” he says, pulling his finger out of you entirely.
You whine, pushing his jacket off of him and loosening his tie. Your hands unbutton his dress shirt as his lips find yours again. He gently lays you back on his desk as you push apart his dress shirt. Your hands run up and down his bare chest as you worship his physique. Tall and lean but with a muscular chest and abdomen, he cages you in on either side.
He pulls apart your blouse, exposing your lace bra. Your chest rises and falls with every breath as you look up at him. He runs a hand through his black hair, eyes watching your every movement.
“You don’t have to do this,” he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
“What?” You breathe.
“To keep your job. You can tell me no and I won’t be angry,” he says.
“Will we get in trouble?” You ask, cheeks blushing red.
“I’m the boss,” he says, inching closer to your face.
You chew on your bottom lip. “Hiromi… I want you,” you tug at his dress shirt. Your words are his undoing.
His dick grows hard in his pants, pain becoming almost unbearable as he inserts two fingers into your cunt. You grip your breasts with both hands, throwing your head back in a moan.
His droopy eyes watch you hungrily as he pulls your bra down. Your boobs bounce with every thrust of his fingers. He leans forward, wrapping his lips around your sensitive nipple. His tongue swirls around your bud as he fingers drag in and out of your cunt. He uses his thumb to make small circles around your clit.
“ Hir-Hiro—,” you gasp, trying your best to form a coherent sentence. He inserts a third long finger. You grip onto his bicep with your fingers, bucking your hips in rhythm to his thrusts.
“There’s that pretty voice of yours. Say my name baby,” he whispers, licking up and down your collarbone.
“ Hiromi,” you whimper, gripping on to the back of his neck with your hands.
“I want you to cum for me, doll. All over my desk,” he groans above you, leaving marks along your breasts with his mouth.
Your moans go quiet as you pull onto his dress shirt, digging your fingernails into the cloth as your body lurches forward. Your cunt convulses around his fingers as you cum into his hand. Your body spasms, mouth chanting his praises as he looks down at you in satisfaction.
“Good girl,” he says, placing soft kisses down your neck as his hands run up and down your side soothingly.
He pulls apart his fingers, drenched in your own cum. He slides his fingers into his mouth, sucking every last drop of your juices off of his long digits. He pulls down your panties, tossing them aside as he lifts your legs to your chest. He kisses your ankle softly as his hands run down your leg. He admires your red, throbbing cunt.
“The most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen,” he says with a smirk.
He unbuckles his belt, slipping it out of the loops and tossing it behind him. He unbuttons his pants, freeing his thick cock from its constraint as he teases your entrance. Your mouth waters as you look down at his size, your eyes flicker to his.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll go slow,” he says softly as he slowly pushes himself into you.
“ Fuck,” you gasp, gripping onto the edge of his desk as he fills you up, into your stomach. It felt like there was no way you could possibly take more, but he had yet to be halfway in.
“You can do it, doll. Take my cock,” he groans, inching into your little by little.
Tears sting your eyes as he leans forward, wrapping his arms around your body. He holds you close as the last of his cock buried inside of you.
“See? That wasn’t so bad?” He whispers in your ear, letting you get used to his size.
“Y-you’re so… big,” you swallow, wrapping your legs around his waist.
He smirks, dragging his length out of you before slamming it back into your hips. “You’re so beautiful,” he groans in between thrusts, watching your body bounce and jiggle with every move he makes against you.
He pulls out for a brief second, rolling you onto your stomach and gripping the flesh of your ass. He massages his hands against your skin, “I told you to stop wearing those damn skirts.”
He rams his dick into your cunt from behind, toes curling in satisfaction. You grip the front of his desk as he fists your rolled up skirt in his hand, using it to grip you. Your breasts are squeezed against the top of his table, crinkling the papers beneath you.
“I did it—on purpose,” you choke out. “I knew—you were—watching.”
“Brat,” he gathers a handful of your hair in his fist. “I haven’t been able to focus all week long.”
He throws his head back, squinting his eyes shut at the memory of every time you bent over in front of him to pick up a dropped file. Leaning forward on your hands, pressing your breasts together underneath your blouse as you asked if he needed help with any work. The way you crossed your legs beside him, slightly pulling up the hem of your skirt. It was all so obvious to him now that he had you bent over beneath him, chanting his first name.
Gripping the sides of your hips with both hands, he lifts you off of the table, ramming his dick into your dripping cunt. Each thrust eliciting a wet and disgusting sound as your legs twitched beneath him.
Your vision has begun to go blurry, eyes rolling back in your head due to sheer ecstasy as he chased his own high. His hips began to slow, leaning forward to hug your body close to his as he pulled his dick out of you. He grips it in his hands, pumping slowly as his cum shoots out over your ass.
Your soft whimpers fill his office at the feeling of his warm cum dripping down your back and into your pussy.
“ Fuck, doll,” he grunts, pumping the last of his cum onto your ass. He falls backwards into his desk chair, breathing heavily as he rakes his fingers through his hair.
You start to lift yourself off of his desk before he grips your thigh, “No. Stay,” he commands.
You lay stomach down on his desk, looking back as his eyes scan over you. His hands run up and down your legs as he watches his cum drip and run down your body. Your cunt convulses around nothing as she recovers from the feeling of his dick stretching her wider than she ever had been before.
“I just wanted one more look,” he says, patting your ass gently. He stands from his seat, ripping off a paper towel from his cleaning supply as he wipes his cum off of you gently.
You giggle, covering your face in your hands,” How embarrassing.”
He lifts you up, prying your hands off of your face, “Do I embarrass you that much?”
You laugh, playfully pushing him back, “No, idiot. Being bent over my boss’s desk.”
He smirks, picking up your panties from the ground before shoving them into his pants pocket. “These are mine,” he says, pulling your skirt down to cover you.
The corner of your mouth quirks upwards, buttoning your blouse back up before sliding off of his desk. He buttons his own shirt, giving up on his tie as he leaves it loosely undone around his neck.
“Walk me home?” You ask, standing on your tiptoes in front of him.
“Who do you think I am? Of course, doll,” he places a kiss on your lips, following you out the door.
As the two of you walk in tandem, he places a hand on your lower back, leaning closer to your ear, “I wouldn’t mention anything, yet. About us…”
You look up at him, raising an eyebrow, “What’s there to mention?” He looks at you with a puzzled expression. “It isn’t like we’re dating,” you say, nonchalantly, walking into the elevator.
He follows closely behind you. “I guess—you’re right,” he says hesitantly.