Prompt: This time, her boss had gone too far.
She wouldn't call it tolerating. Rather, she had . . . been enduring his shameless and inappropriate behavior over the last couple of weeks. It was utterly unprofessional, and even if it wasn't, she was still a young woman with her virtue intact and she intended to keep it that way – she wouldn't even let a boyfriend or a fiance touch her in that manner.
Not to mention that it was incredibly insulting and disrespectful. She didn't deserve to be treated in such a vile manner.
No woman did.
Ever since she had started working for him, she had always felt a strange sense of discomfort in his presence. She had played it off, assuming it to be her nerves and inexperience at working with men. But it had turned out to be something quite different.
At first, the regular visits to her office, which called "check ups" had confused her, but she'd guessed that since she was new to the firm, he was just being welcoming and friendly. A little too friendly.
It all made sense now.
The lingering stares – on her and certain parts of her. The casual brushes of his arm against hers. The unnecessary close contact. The way he would stand very close behind her whenever she had to show him something. The murderous look he would get in his dark eyes whenever she interacted with male co–workers . . .
She wasn't strong enough to put an end to it herself; she didn't know what would happen if she stood up for herself and gave him a piece of her mind – she'd never been faced with such a situation before. But he had finally crossed the line.
She'd figured that this was something he did with other women. Some men were like that, weren't they? A little flirting here and there . . . ? Despite the persisting nuisance, she had felt slightly assured that perhaps she was not the only one. That he acted that way around every woman.
Clearly, she had been wrong.
He had entered her office this morning, grinning lazily with his creepy, dark eyes fixated on her. She had smiled hesitantly as he closed the door behind her, wondering why others didn't notice his odd behavior. And how did he always know when she was alone in her office?
He had inquired how she was doing that "fine morning" and she had replied tentatively. Shortly. It hadn't been long before he had ended up sitting on top her desk, peering down at her cleavage while she tried to ignore him and focus on her computer screen.
He had placed his hand on hers over the keyboard, stilling her movement. Taken off guard, she glanced at him and in a low, husky voice, which freaked her out to no end, he told her how much he wanted her and how glad he was to have her working for him. She had been frozen, eyes wide, as he advanced towards her, too shocked to scream despite how terrified she had been.
She had been still sitting in her chair, so he had snaked his arms around her waist to haul her up, immediately cupping her ass with both hands. His hot, foul mouth had found hers and he had hungrily devoured his lips against hers, despite her whimpers and muffled moans of protest.
To her utter humiliation, his right hand had slid up her waist and torso before palming her left breast in his hands, none too gently.
Something snapped inside her.
Her hands roughly shoved against his chest with all the force she could muster. Since they had been trapped between her chair and desk, he fell over backwards, sprawled over the table, facing the ceiling.
She threw him the deepest look of loathing, which wasn't a difficult feat. Glaring angrily down at his worthless self, she slapped his face, hissing, "Don't you ever touch me again, you filthy bastard!" before storming out of her office, yelling, "I quit, and I'll be informing the board of directors exactly why, mark my words!" over her shoulder.
It was two weeks since she had quit. The process had been relatively quick and simple and she was relieved that she never had to see his face again.
She was rather liking her new job. The co–workers were extremely friendly, with genuine smiles. Surprisingly, as she was never good with making friends too quickly, she'd befriended the outgoing and cheerful Brenda, who absolutely loved to hang out with her new best friend and made it her priority that she was never feeling out of place.
Jenna found that she actually enjoyed waking up in the morning to head to work. So far, no one had hit on her, or stared at her creepily.
On the way to her office one morning, she almost bumped into someone.
"Gosh, I'm so sorry," She apologized quickly, hoping she hadn't spilled her coffee over them. Stepping back, she surveyed their clothing briefly before lifting her eyes to, apparently his face, smiling in embarrassment.
Her words died in her throat.
"It's not a problem," He flashed a boyish grin at her. His hands were on her shoulders, steadying her and as soon as she was balanced, he dropped his hold. This pleased her (despite the fact that electric currents were now crackling through her body) – that he didn't touch her any more than necessary. "No blood, no foul, right?"
Unable to comprehend anything beyond "wow", she nodded dumbly, not sure what exactly she was agreeing to. His dark eyes, so strikingly similar to his, were twinkling merrily down her and he seemed so full of life. He took a few steps towards the door they'd both been attempting to get through. She'd assumed he was just going to leave, but to her astonishment, he opened the door wide, stood back and stared meaningfully at her, obviously waiting for her to go first.
Handsome and chivalrous.
No one, no one, had ever done that for her, so the act was a little unusual. Blushing furiously, she sped–walked through the door, muttering a shy "thanks" softly. He beamed back at her and she hastily hurried to her cabin.
"So," Brenda grinned from ear–to–ear, having witnessed the whole thing. "I see you've finally met Ian – our boss. I think you'll like him."
Author's Note: This was fun to write, despite the tension, but I liked how it ended. It took me a total of thirty minutes, which is quite an achievement for me!