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Working Overtime
Working Overtime
Working Overtime
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Working Overtime

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Warning: Contains some scenes of an explicitly sexual nature.
This is a prequel to Interview For Love.

Sandra is a horny young woman on a mission. When she starts her new dream job as a secretary at a big city law firm, she falls in love with a good-looking paralegal.
But her boss has designs on her; he wants her all to himself. He starts to flex his power by manipulating her relationship with her boyfriend; their careers are balanced in his hands, and she is forced to comply with his demands to satisfy his personal needs by offering herself to him whilst working overtime.

How can Sandra get herself out of this situation and devote herself to loving her paralegal boyfriend? And how can she escape the dominance of her boss without ruining her boyfriend's career?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherRachel Cray
Release dateAug 15, 2011
ISBN9781465708946
Working Overtime
Author

Rachel Cray

Rachel writes erotic romances to two sub-genres: the first she calls "law firm erotic", where her characters are the horny partners and employees of a U.S. law firm, and whose spare-time activities may best be described simply as sex-related. The second sub-genre she calls "village erotic", where the cast are the horny inhabitants of Maybourne, a fictional old market town in the heart of England with a number of olde worlde villages, Tudor buildings, a ruined abbey and other picturesque features in both rural and urban settings.She has worked in several European countries, first as a secretary and then as an executive assistant, before returning to her roots in Surrey, England, and close to London; for many years she was the director of administration at the London office of a large U.S. law firm before leaving to run her own recruitment company. Now in semi-retirement, she devotes most of her spare time to writing erotic romance novellas, drawing on her life's experiences in a variety of fields. She is married with children and grandchildren.

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    Book preview

    Working Overtime - Rachel Cray

    Working Overtime

    by Rachel Cray

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright 2011 Rachel Cray

    Rachel Cray’s home page

    Discover other titles by Rachel Cray at Smashwords.com:

    A Stranger in My Bed

    Jack, Me, and His Lodger

    Interview For Love

    A Close Match

    Village Accounts

    Kate’s Return

    This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons (living or dead), actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

    All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission by the author, except for brief quotations for review purposes.

    This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

    Smashwords Edition : Licence Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    CHAPTER 1

    I started at Brockbank & Taylor as a junior legal secretary one week after my 21st birthday. I could hardly believe my luck, as the law firm was one of the most prestigious in London, with its chief office in New York and offices all round the world. And it could give me a head start in my career. But I was young, and I had other priorities: I wanted as much sex as I could get. I was one of life’s late starters – I hadn’t lost my virginity until I was 19 – and I had to make up for years of lost time. I had already decided that I was going to take advantage of every opportunity that presented itself.

    The first person I met there – apart from the receptionist – was David Shaw, the manager who had originally interviewed me for the position. I decided he must be in his early thirties, and probably married, so I wouldn’t bother too much about attracting his attention. He was nearly six feet tall, good-looking, and his light brown hair was thinning slightly on top. I fantasised briefly; if our ages had been much closer, I would have considered him a candidate as a boyfriend.

    I’m putting you in a section with five other people, he told me in his office. I’ve asked Barbara, one of my more experienced secretaries, to be your mentor during your settling-in period. This is standard practice here; you can ask her anything that you’re unsure about. And there are three other secretaries there to keep you company, as well as Gary, one of our paralegals.

    Then he took me to where I was to work, and was introduced to Barbara, my blonde bespectacled secretary-mentor, a lady in her mid-twenties who seemed to me to ooze professional competence; she proceeded to introduce me quickly to the other three secretaries – mature types in their thirties and forties – and to Gary, who appeared nearer my age group – an attractive young man, with dark hair, blue eyes – and he had a smile to die for. I decided there and then that this guy was at the top of my target list.

    Barbara spent much of the first couple of days showing me the office routine, special layouts for the legal documents I’d be preparing, the database of precedents, and so on. At odd moments, my eyes took a sneaky look at Gary, to see what he was doing, and whether he had noticed me.

    Much more important, I listened to the secretaries’ gossip and gleaned that Gary was single and currently available. My plans moved up a notch. I had to do something to attract his attention.

    I was in luck. On my first Friday in the job, the other secretaries were going out to lunch together – just a sandwich and a coffee – and had invited me along. I was about to get out of my chair and grab my bag to go with them, when Barbara asked Gary if he’d like to come. He declined, saying he had an urgent project to finish.

    Seizing the moment, I changed my mind. Apologising to Barbara and the others, I said I’d stay and complete a document with a complicated format while I had its specific features still in my head. If I leave it now, it’ll take me half an hour to get my brain back into this when I return, I explained.

    They were satisfied with this excuse and, as soon as they left, I moved in on Gary.

    Can I do anything to help you? I asked.

    Thanks, but this is quite complex, he answered, without taking his eyes from the papers on his desk.

    O.K. I tentatively moved my legs to expose a little of my thigh in his line of vision. I happened to be wearing stockings, and I looked across to him to see if he had noticed, but his attention still seemed riveted to his papers. I continued to work on my document for another five minutes.

    Sandra, he called, Can you help me proof-read this agreement, please?

    Sure, I said, and walked across to his desk. Maybe my posture had attracted him. Perhaps I had just hit lucky. I grabbed a chair and sat next to him, inches apart. Just tell me what you want me to do.

    I’ll read it aloud to you from my original copy. You just check everything, word for word, including spelling and punctuation, on the revised copy here.

    He began reading, and I followed the text on my copy. It was long and convoluted, like most of the other documents I had been typing and retyping since I arrived here.

    Eventually, nearly ten minutes later, we finished. That’s it. Thanks very much, Sandra. I appreciate it.

    You’re very welcome, I smiled, accidentally nudging his pencil on to the floor.

    He reached down to the floor for it; he picked it up and, as he came up, he moved his hand from the chair to correct his balance. I stood up, to make sure my thigh came into contact with his hand. For a couple of seconds, I pressed his palm against me, his fingertips touching my skirt where it covered my stocking fastening.

    If there’s anything I can do for you, just ask, I whispered.

    I think you’ve earned yourself lunch, if you’re hungry, he replied. I can only run to a sandwich or a quick snack.

    That’s fine. I walked back to my desk and, as I picked up my bag, I crouched down slightly to expose my thigh again. If he was buying me lunch, he deserved a little treat, I thought. I wondered if his dick had grown when he saw the top of my stocking.

    As we passed through the main lobby, we met the other secretaries just returning from their lunch. I smiled a greeting and noticed a couple of them glancing at each other, exchanging a meaningful nod.

    Gary bought our sandwiches and coffees, and we sat down at a table.

    So how do you like life at Brockbank & Taylor? he asked.

    It’s all very strange, and I still have a lot to learn, I answered. Barbara has been very helpful – I don’t think I’d have coped without her.

    "If there’s anything I can help you with – not legal secretarial practice, obviously, but any background information regarding the law that might be relevant to anything you’re doing – you must please ask me. It often helps to keep you motivated if you know the reason why you’re doing something that might otherwise seem meaningless."

    Thanks, Gary. And if ever you want any more help with proof-reading, I’d be very pleased to help if I’m not too busy.

    That’s great. I might take you up on that offer sometime.

    And that goes for anything else, Gary. Anything I can do for you. I lowered my eyes, hoping he’d take the hint.

    We continued eating our sandwiches, and sipping our coffees. And then the great doorway of opportunity opened. I just had an idea, he began. I have a whole heap of stuff that needs proof-reading. It’s not very urgent, but maybe you and I could get our heads together at odd moments when we both have an hour free, and we could get through it.

    Sure, I said. And I was sure that I could progress things along from the base where we had just started. But before I knew it, he was making all the running for me.

    In fact, I don’t know what you’re doing this Saturday, he continued. We could come in on Saturday morning and make a start, if you like. Normally I’d get one of the other paralegals to help. But if you came in, you’d earn yourself some overtime.

    I paused, pretending to consider my social engagements this weekend, and cheerfully agreed to make myself available.

    You’d have to clear it with David, he warned, but that shouldn’t be a problem. You could argue that it would be good experience.

    We discussed our interests in music and how we spent our spare time. Gary had a law degree and hoped to start training as a lawyer soon; he was spending a lot of his spare time in the office on a variety of client matters, hoping to broaden his knowledge and skill-base.

    Poor Gary, I thought. No wonder he doesn’t have a girlfriend if he’s spending all that time at his desk. He must get sexually frustrated without a woman in his life. I wanted to help relieve him of all that frustration that must be accumulating. And he could help relieve me too.

    Thanks for lunch, I smiled as we stood to leave. And for the chance to earn some overtime.

    You’re very welcome, Sandra, he said, absently touching my hand. And you won’t get too bored on Saturday. I’ll see to that.

    When we reached the office, I went to the toilet before returning to my desk, so that I wouldn’t arrive there at the same time as Gary. That might prevent the other secretaries thinking we had had lunch together and make us the object of their tittle-tattle.

    The remainder of the day passed off without incident; I was careful about my posture, as I didn’t want to tease Gary any more. He could look forward to Saturday with me now.

    I checked with David that he had no objection to my working overtime on Saturday.

    I had anticipated his reaction. You’ve only been here a few days.

    I know, but proof-reading other people’s work will give me a better handle on the range of documentation here. I realise that I have a hell of a lot to learn, and if there’s anything I can do to learn some of it sooner, I’d do it. Perhaps I sounded a little too keen. But he agreed to the overtime.

    On Thursday morning, Barbara came up to me quietly and asked if I would be interested in going out for a meal in a restaurant with

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