The Boss' Target Pt. 02

He was a little satisfied now but still agitated. He knocked the doll to the ground and stomped downstairs to the kitchen, where the whiskey bottle stood on the counter. As he grabbed the bottle he noticed her half full glass. The rim held the print of her light pink lipstick. The ice had melted by now, leaving the glass cool to his touch. He picked it up, centred it so the print would align with his lips, and gulped down the contents of the glass.

He wondered what she was doing. Maybe she was washing her mouth. Taking a shower. Hating him. Thinking about quitting.

He took a deep breath. There was no use thinking about it. He would have to deal with it on Monday. It would be awkward for both of them, but there was no telling how exactly it would turn out.

Caroline cried while brushing her teeth. She also cried in the shower. Then she lay in bed naked, not bothering to put on clothes, and she cried there too. It was a Friday night and she could have been doing other things. She loved tv, but she couldn't bring herself to turn it on.

When she felt like getting up she took the leftover pizza and the half full bottle of wine from the fridge. Her mom spotted her in the kitchen and she could tell something was wrong.

"You came home late today. Where were you?"

"I went out with a friend," Caroline replied, refusing to meet her eyes.

Her mother was eyeing her suspiciously. "Something's wrong."

"I'm fine," Caroline replied.

"Did something happen? You can tell me."

When the pizza was finished in the microwave Caroline quickly took it out and grabbed the glass of wine. She walked upstairs to her room without saying another word.

She was 24 and had only had one boyfriend, back when she was in high school. Their relationship lasted a month because he had been pressuring her for sex.

Her boss was a smart and successful lawyer she had looked up to for years as an inspiration. She had a hard time coming to terms with the fact that he was really just another dirty man in a mid life crisis.

At some point that night she decided to stop feeling sorry for herself and start steeling her mind and body for the coming week. She was scared of what could happen but she had no choice.

She arrived to work on Monday morning with her hair down. She did this on purpose so as to cover the hickey that had appeared on Saturday. She had been horrified but not surprised. When he made her take off her clothes in his bathroom he had played with her neck before telling her to get into the jacuzzi. It had hurt a little and she hated that she moaned.

She had arrived early as usual and began turning on the lights. The others arrived a short while after and she greeted them. He arrived last and she made it a point to turn her back to him, but enough so that it would not look odd in front of her colleagues.

She could feel his eyes on her as she set her bag down on her desk. She had to go downstairs to buy coffee but the door was behind her. She steadied herself to turn around and face him. When she did she was met with a glare and she winced.

"Good morning," she murmured as she walked past him.

He gave her a curt nod and she descended the stairs. She hoped he did not follow her. To her relief the only footsteps she heard were her own, but she could still feel his stare.

She had not talked to her mom all weekend. She knew she was upset and she felt guilty, but she could not bring herself to speak to her. During her break she contemplated returning her call but she decided not to.

For the rest of the day she was collecting data on the case she was assigned. He had given her something challenging that Friday because he believed she was capable and it would look good for her career, and she had gladly accepted it. She had felt honoured that he respected her intelligence and potential.

The image of him was attached to her case and she had to ground herself before she started working on it again. She could not cover as much as she wanted to over the weekend and she hated herself for dwelling in her emotions for so long.

She fake smiled with her colleagues when they came to check on her every now and then. Every time she heard the door open a part of her feared that it was him, but he did not come until a few minutes after 4.

She had been in the library for most of the day. The door made its signature creak and when she turned her body tensed and she clenched her fists.

"Still working?" he said coolly.

She decided to look straight into his eyes. He was obviously on edge but was trying not to show it.

"I can take it home with me," she replied.

She could feel her eyebrows reacting in fear. If he was smug or satisfied he was not showing it.

She finally averted her eyes. Her head was swimming. She was shocked when he started walking towards her. He stopped next to her chair and looked over the contents on her side of the table.

"Impressive," he said finally. "So you proved that murder wasn't his intent."

"It was self defense. It was just unfortunate the officer had a heart attack in that moment," she said quietly.

"Very good."

He squeezed her shoulder and an odd feeling overcame her. He let his hand stay for a moment and then he released her.

She had decided to keep their after-work arrangement. They never mentioned anything about it to each other after Friday so he assumed it was going as normal. She continued to use her earphones for the entire commute.

After a few days his tension was beginning to ease. Nothing significant happened. There were no rumours, no whispering, no side eye glances. The fire in his pants started to ease as well and he apologized to the doll for treating it roughly.

The night before her court case he decided to have a session with the doll. He had not touched it since that Friday, in which nearly three weeks had passed.

He gently took it out of the closet. It felt like the first time he was touching it. He nervously began to speak while he awkwardly stroked its hair, suddenly self conscious of his voice.

"You know, I'm glad you chose my firm. You're a smart young woman. You have a knack for this."

He lay down on his bed and brought the doll's head between his legs, positioning it over his erect penis which felt like it was going to explode.

"I have years of experience in this field. I can show you things you don't know."

He placed his penis in the doll's mouth and pressed its head all the way down. He sighed after having abstained for so long. He moved its head up and down and his sighing grew louder.

"You're a good whore. My whore. Only mine."

He climaxed with a groan and ejaculated into its throat.

"That's so you could speak in court tomorrow. Make sure you swallow it."

After court was dismissed she found the nearest chair and dropped into it. Her colleagues surrounded her like a wall and congratulated her. It was Friday so they suggested going out for drinks that evening. It was her first win and being the youngest in the firm, they wanted to treat her. She sheepishly said okay.

On Saturday evening the bell rang. She was not expecting anyone and the sky was getting darker, so she thought it was strange. Before opening the door she decided to look through the peephole and was shocked by what she found.

Her heart was pounding so hard she swore it was making her dizzy. She eventually mustered the courage to open the door.

He had a rose in his hand. He was wearing a polo jersey and jeans, and she could smell the cologne coming off of him. He had a smug, almost turned on look on his face as he took in her shorts and t-shirt. It reminded her of when he stripped her naked in his bathroom and she cringed, taking a step back. he licked his lips and laughed.

"You just haven't properly tasted what I can do to you. I can fix that tonight," he said. After a pause he said "Why don't you take this inside?"

He handed her the rose. It was the first time she had been gifted one and the situation was far from romantic for her. She took it anyway and uneasily studied the hills and valleys of the flower under the light of the moon. She looked up and realized there was a full moon, and she sighed.

For years she had covered her longing for a romantic partner under studying and vying to reach the furthest she could. No one had paid her any attention.

"What is it that you want from me? Other than sex, that is. Be honest," she said.

He was surprised by the defeated tone in her voice. He understood where she was coming from and he felt sorry for her. He almost started to feel guilty for his past actions. He found it difficult to answer and bit his lip.

"Hmm...why don't we go somewhere? Are you busy? Let me get you something to eat," he said nervously.

She stared at him coldly. She took a while to answer.

"Okay," she replied.

He was starting to sweat. He was reminded of the times he was being too forward while flirting with women at the bar and they put him in his place. They had rejected him, but here she was still giving him a chance.

She walked inside and told him he could come in and wait for her. He watched her find a vase, fill it with water, and place the rose inside. He sat on the couch in the living room while she went upstairs to change.

He studied the family pictures. They were mostly her and her mother. There was no father and he wondered about that.

He studied the surroundings. They seemed well to do and he wondered what the mother did as a career. He could see that they were wealthy compared to other immigrants.

Suddenly a gray cat hopped onto the couch and eyed him curiously. He stared back at the cat and then offered his hand. The cat sniffed it and rubbed its head against it. He pet the cat's head and it purred in response.

A while later she came downstairs wearing an orange pants and a white t-shirt. He was caught off-guard and his jaw dropped when he saw her. His eyes stayed at her waist and he snapped out of it when the cat left his hand and ran to her meowing.

"Mimi," she said affectionately, catching the cat in her arms.

He watched as the cat meowed and snuggled against her. She suddenly became aware of him and she put the cat down on the couch.

"Alright. I'm ready. Where are we going?" she said flatly.

"Wherever the wind blows I suppose. Any cravings?" he said.

"Not really."

"Well let's take a drive and see if you change your mind."

They drove in silence. The streets were empty save for the nightlife hotspots. The night breeze was peaceful and she had agreed to keep the windows down. Her hair seemed to float in his peripheral vision and he wished some of it would tickle his face.

She smelled sweet, like she had just taken a shower. The smell aroused him and he tried to hide it. He thought it was a perfect time to get steamy with her but for the time being he decided to be on his best behaviour. She still had that annoyed look on her face.

He remembered the condom and lubricant in the compartment in front of her seat. He had put them there just in case she had a change of heart one day. He did not think he would end up taking her out on a date that night and so he started to feel a little more optimistic.

After a few minutes he found a park close to a food cart plaza. He told her he was paying and she told him she would pay for her own. He did not want to hear it and insisted he paid.

Her eyes lit up at the taco cart. She walked towards it and he followed her, watching her as she perused the menu. He was amused at how taken up she was.

She ordered her taco topped with guacamole and he decided to get the same. They found an empty table under some string lights where they went to sit opposite to each other. It was a busy night and this made him nervous. He scanned the crowd for anyone who might know him and was a little relieved to see that they were all strangers. He then turned to her and looked at her warily. She stared back at him for a moment, confused, and then opened her taco box.

He was not crazy for guacamole but he could tell that she loved it. He found it odd that for a small woman she ate so heartily. He was a big man, a little thick around the edges in his middle age, and he found himself picking at his taco.

"I didn't know you liked tacos," he said, trying to make a conversation. "What else do you like?"

"A lot of things," she replied casually.

"Sometimes I like to try new things when I cook," he said. "I made fettucine alfredo the other day. Why don't you come over next Saturday and I'll make it for you?"

He realized it was a bold move. She stopped eating and glared at him.

She inhaled and said "Maybe."

She resumed eating and the annoyed look returned. He wanted to sigh but he did not want to do it in front of her. It was a genuine question but he knew he would pounce on her at some point.

He had an idea of what she meant earlier at her house and he felt sorry for her but he was still itching for sex. She was too beautiful and exotic for him to let go of. He had to have her, eventually. If he could find out what she wanted in a romantic, or even sexual sense it would make things easier for both of them.

He could not give her youth and what comes with it but he had money. This part was tricky, because it seemed she also had money. He was running out of options and getting frustrated.

He thought of how her round sultry eyes got excited for food and assumed that food must be an important component.

Tonight would've been perfect, he thought. She just has to lay there under the quilt while I stroke her skin...

He snapped back to reality. She had finished eating and was looking the other way. He looked down at his taco and saw that he had eaten half. He secured it inside the box and told himself he would finish it later.

"So, what do you want to do now?" he said.

"It's too early to go back home," she said.

He was surprised but knew she could not mean what he wanted. He waited for something more from her.

"We could...go to the park. It's a little chilly, but it's nice at this time. You could...hold my hand," she said quietly.

His heart jumped and he gripped the bench for support. He knew that if he talked now he would be sputtering.

"Okay," was all he could manage to say.

As they were walking along the path he was beginning to feel like this was a teenage fantasy. He glanced at her face and saw that she was not so annoyed anymore. She looked tired, or sad. He could not tell.

They had been walking hand in hand. They found a bench to sit on and her hand did not budge from his. Their hands rested on the bench, absorbing the cold as a cool breeze swept by. Eventually she let go of him and dug her hands into her pockets.

Time passed and they said nothing. He was bored and confused. Eventually he spoke.

"Do you want a boyfriend that bad? I don't mean to offend you. I just want to know what's going on."

She furrowed her brows. She was taken by surprise.

"You won't understand," she said.

"I know what it's like to be lonely," he said, trying to sound sympathetic. "I want to know what it is that you want."

"Fine. You're right. I just feel like I missed out," she replied.

He waited for more but she refused to reveal.

"So will you come next weekend?" he said.

She turned to look at him.

"Yes," she said hesitantly.

She was beginning to look worried. She started rubbing her arms and told him she was ready to go home.

It was back to the office again on Monday. Now he barely hid his attraction to her -- he gazed longingly in her direction, he ran his fingers down her back when no one was looking, and he started calling her "Princess" when the others were out of earshot. She felt it had to do with her allowing him to hold her hand on Saturday night and her agreeing to meet him this weekend. She felt stupid and wished she could take it back, but a part of her liked the attention.

No one seemed to notice anything, not even Melanie who was usually envious of her. The others kept their distance as usual. The fact that they seemed to not care kept her mind at ease in that aspect.

Every day he would touch her a little and she would shiver. On Friday he grabbed her bottom and she gasped. That was when she told him to stop and he apologized.

She was not sure how to prepare. The dread was hard to shake off. She was sure he would try something on her. She wondered if she was making a mistake.

How much of it was going to be sex? She thought. She was a virgin but had played with a dildo for years so she was prepared for that scenario. She just hoped he was not rough.

She drove to his house with her car. She clicked the doorbell and waited. When he opened the door he smiled and assessed how her black jersey and jeans fit her petite frame.

"Come in," he said cheerfully.

As he closed the door behind them she picked up on the smell and looked towards the stove. True to his words, the pasta was cooking.

"It's almost done," he said. "Just a few more minutes. Why don't you sit on the couch? I'll get you something to drink. Is wine okay?"

"Sure," she replied.

She watched him pour it into a wine glass. She took it and awkwardly took a seat. She chose the couch opposite the T.V., not the one he pulled her on a month before.

She could hear him moving around in the kitchen as she nervously took sips of the white wine. Her heart pounded in her chest. Then he called out to her.

"Alright. It's finished. I'm putting your plate on the table."

There was a small circular wooden table with four chairs around it to her right. She could see the smoke drifting off of the two plates as he set them down. She got up from the couch and took the chair opposite his.

"Careful," he said. "It's hot."

She was glad he did not try to show off and attempt to make something like roti, given her ethnicity. She would have been embarrassed.

She looked up from her smoking plate to see his hungry eyes taking her in. She was not surprised that most of his gaze fell on her chest. He refused to look away even when she caught him and it made her uneasy for what was to come after their meal.

He finally left her chest alone and twirled his fork around the fettucine. She exhaled, but not loud enough for him to notice. They ate in silence and after they were done she complimented him on the food. She did it out of politeness and because she genuinely thought he was a good cook.

"Thank you," he said, leering. "It means a lot coming from you."

He took both of their plates and walked to the kitchen to wash them. Afterwards he joined her on the couch and they talked about work as she sipped the rest of her wine.

It was after twenty minutes or so that she started to feel it. At first she thought it was just the wine that got her sleepy, but then she realized something was wrong. The sleepiness quickly grew in intensity and she thought she was going to collapse. She bent forward and planted her face in her knees. She felt his hand on her back trying to soothe her before she fell into a deep sleep.

A phone vibrating in the distance had woken her up but her eyes were so heavy she refused to open them. She lay there thinking it was Sunday morning and she could sleep late if she wanted to, and so she drifted back into sleep.

She woke up with a start and shrieked. She looked down and saw his face buried in the space between her legs. She shrieked again but he pulled her closer and held her there. He looked up for a second and their eyes met.

He licked her to orgasm and all the while she trembled and moaned. She let out a scream at the end and that was when he finally raised himself.

"No kicking?" he teased.

Her clit still throbbed as he wiped the edges of his mouth with the handkerchief he removed from his pocket. She kept her eyes closed even as he placed his hands down next to her head and hovered above her.