"Good, you're early. Perfect. Come with me." From the tour Don gave me yesterday I knew he was taking me to the kitchen. I guess I'm about to find out why. "Make me that wicked cup of coffee you spoke about." God, his accent. "As you wish, sir," I said with a mock British accent. "And what flavor do you prefer?" I asked, looking at the variety of International Delight creamers. "Pick the one you like." His voice was smooth and soft as he said that. I couldn't stop myself from smiling or turning around to look at him. He had his butt resting against the counter. He had his arms crossed over his chest and one foot over the other as he watched me. I felt my breathing pick up at how sexy he looked. My God. He wore high water pants, this time green, and boat shoes instead of loafers. Someway somehow he managed to pull off a leather jacket with that outfit. I don't know much about fashion but I would not even dare to put those two together. I could tell he had really broad shoulders. An image flashed through my mind. I had my hands underneath his arms and my fingernails digging into his shoulder as he backed me up against a wall and wrap my legs around his waist, fucking me hard against the wall. Jesus Christ, I hope Tommy doesn't ask me about him again because he's going to be very pissed if I tell him I imagined my boss banging me against the wall.