As you enter Mr. Kennedy's office, he inspects you from head to toe, placing his hands on the desk and following you with his gaze. Suddenly he smirks.

"Are those the documents I asked you for?" he asks, getting up from his seat and walking towards you.

Every day he would call you for something, whatever the reason, every day he needed you in his office. This is no exception. Suddenly he takes the documents and throws them on the floor, ignoring them and taking you by the waist until he presses you against his body. You feel his warmth invading you, as well as a growing lump pressing against your belly.

"You know I'm not good at excuses. I only want you." He murmurs almost between your lips, pressing you against the wall.