Jessa James - Crave

He pulled out, flipping her around so that she was on her knees and elbows. She cried out as he plunged deep inside her again. He wrapped her hair around his fist, pulling gently on it as he fucked her.

She came alive with that small bit of pain, pushing back against every thrust, calling out as he worked his cock in and out. He grunted as he thrust, slipping his hand around and between her legs.

He touched her clit, made slippery with her own excitement. He worked in slow circles as his thrusts grew shorter. She could feel the tension in him, feel him winding up, but she was too lost in sensation to care.

She was right on the edge, waiting to fall from the precipice. He pinched her clit, adding a little pain to her pleasure, and she exploded.

Her body spasmed as she came, her mind blanking as she was overcome with pleasure, the slick slide of it. He stiffened and came with a groan, thrusting into her.

He collapsed beside her, and she lay on her side, struggling to breathe. Her mind was totally blown, but she didn’t say anything to him. He apparently didn’t feel like talking either, because he was silent.

He took the condom off, but where he put it she didn’t know.

She felt her eyes growing heavy, but she didn’t feel comfortable falling asleep with him here. She was about to roll over and tell him to leave, but she felt him rise from the bed.

She stayed still, waiting to see what he would do. He didn’t waste any time getting dressed. When he was ready, he stood for a second and stared over at her body. He hesitated, as if he weren’t used to this part.

What, he wasn’t used to sneaking out on girls he’d hooked up with? She would’ve rolled her eyes if she wasn’t pretending to be asleep.

After a moment, he turned and left her room. She listened intently for sounds of him going through her stuff. It wouldn’t be the first time that she’d exercised poor judgment in guys, although she didn’t usually hook up with random guys. Let alone bring them home...

The sound of the front door closing made her sit up. Apparently she’d picked the only punk rocker who wasn’t hard up enough for cash that he’d at least rifle through her things when he thought she was asleep.

She looked at her bedside table, at the clock. It was still only twelve.

She closed her eyes, smiling to herself. Tonight was fun, if nothing else. A good way to blow off steam before her new assignment.

She drifted off, content in her post-coital bliss.

Cameron’s heels clicked as she walked up the stairs of the subway, her phone glued to her ear.

“We’ve manufactured your executive assistant background, so you’ll have to remember the secretarial training course you went through,” her boss Erika MacMillan said.

As an investigative reporter in the making for The Daily News, Cam had done a lot of things, but cloaking herself as a secretary at Calloway Corp was altogether different. She was going to be investigating Calloway’s financial dealings, trying to figure out if they were just hemorrhaging money or if there was someone corrupt at the bottom of it all.

“I brushed up on all of that last week,” Cam said. “I promise, I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll need to draw on your accounting background for this one.”

“Accounting background? I took like four accounting classes, then switched majors,” she said irritably.

“Well, you’d better put on your big girl pants and use what accounting knowledge you do have. Especially if you want to earn a spot as a reporter on the team. Or maybe you like being the team’s errand boy?”

Cam scowled. In truth, she hated being the one who made photocopies and got coffee for everyone. This assignment was her chance to rise above all that.

“Right,” Cam sighed. “I remember the basics from my accounting classes.”

“Good. When do you start at Calloway Corp?”

“Twenty minutes,” Cam said. “And I’m wearing my conservative little black dress for the first day, before you ask.”

“Hmmmph,” Erika said. “Some people like the fact that I’m detail oriented.”

Cam rolled her eyes silently. “Yeah, well. You picked me for this assignment. You’ll have to trust me a little more if you expect me to find anything out.”

“I trust you,” Erika said defensively. “I lobbied really hard for you to be put on this assignment. Hell, for this to be investigated at all is a triumph. The big bosses don’t think there’s anything in the financial statements, so they don’t believe you’ll find anything.”

“I know,” Cam said, stopping across the street from Calloway Plaza. “It’s a big deal for me, too. My first real assignment, even if it’s a little unconventional. There is something fishy going on, though. I can feel it. I'm positive money is being misappropriated.”

“Cameron—”

“I should go. I’m too close to the building to be talking to you,” Cam said.

Erika sighed. “Alright. Good luck.”

“I’ll check in with you in a couple of days, okay?”

“Okay.”

Cam hung up the phone, feeling jittery.

She looked up at the main building, where she would enter for her first day of work shortly. It was a thing of beauty, all chrome and glass and concrete, the pride and joy of some designer.

It was a real personal statement for someone, even if the statement was that a private military defense company could be represented by such beauty. She’d been here before, for her three separate rounds of interviews, but now it was real.

This was her first shot at being the journalist who cracked the case. All she had to do now was make friends with some of the higher-ups, get those people to talk about top secret financial information, and back it all up with proof.

She laughed aloud, a shaky sound. She shook out the anxiety built up in her arms and legs, an old habit from her days growing up in the foster care system.

Just shake it off! she thought, picturing her younger self saying it. She’d come a long way since leaving the system at eighteen, struggling through four years of waiting tables and night classes. Then a year ago she’d landed the job at The Daily News, trying to prove herself.

All so she could build up to this. She could do this.

She blew out a breath and crossed the street to Calloway Plaza, determined not to let her nerves show. She straightened her black dress, pulled out her brand new employee ID, and strode in through the high glass doors.

It was a couple of minutes before ten o’clock as she rode up the elevators. She got off on the fifth floor and held her head high. She could do this.

She walked through a set of doors and came to a reception desk. She looked at the elegant waiting area, trying not to lose her nerve.

“Can I help you?” asked the pretty blonde receptionist.

Cam swallowed, trying not to think about how that would be her from now on.

“Hi, I’m Cameron Turner, here to see Stephanie?” she said. She almost tripped over the false last name she was using for the job.

The receptionist nodded and picked up the phone. She spoke into the phone, then hung up.

“You can have a seat,” the blonde said.

Cam smiled and took a seat. She waited for a minute, trying not to fidget.

Moments later, a smooth wooden panel opened, and Stephanie came out. A thin, gray-haired woman with immaculate style, Stephanie had interviewed and ultimately hired her.

Right behind her was another woman, a pretty brunette. The brunette was in tears, holding a cardboard box with what looked like the contents of her desk.

Stephanie stopped and patted the woman on the arm.

“Thank you, Ingrid. You can expect a severance check along with your last paycheck,” she said.