Read Online Made in America by Jamie Deschain - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jamie Deschain
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okay?” he asks.
I nod reassuringly, asking, “How do I taste?”
Grant sucks in a sharp breath of air and takes a shuddering step back. “Like a cheap hamburger,” he jokes.
I laugh, releasing my pent up tension, and finish gathering the remainder of our lunch.
By the time I’m back at my desk, it’s already past one, and before I can sit and contemplate what just happened, the phone starts ringing and I’m lost in work, too busy to think about anything else until five o’clock hits and I clock out on what was undoubtedly the most interesting first day I’ve ever had on a job.
- 8 -
Grant
It’s past seven when I look at the time, and Raven is long gone with a business account credit card to get herself some new clothes for work. I sit at my desk, staring over spreadsheets and account charts on my computer, finding myself unable to concentrate on anything else except wondering how she’s making out.
Her first day on the job was certainly lively, to put it mildly.
Setting aside all that crap with Danziger, her and I had an interesting lunch date, and I have the gut rot to prove it. After eating that hamburger, I’ve done nothing but gobble Rolaids like candy.
And she wonders why I don’t eat that crap.
Glancing at my cell phone, I know I should probably just leave her be, but the temptation to text her is too strong, so I pick it up and swipe open the phone, clicking over to the messenger app. Her number is already programmed in. That’s nothing special, I have all my employees programmed into my phone, yet somehow it is special. She’s special, and I’m beginning to realize that more and more with each passing minute.
GRANT: How are you doing?
I send the text and wait. Stare at the phone for a while with anticipation until I see that she’s typing.
RAVEN: Who is this?
GRANT: It’s your boss. You know, the one whose money you’re currently spending.
RAVEN: Sorry, I didn’t have your number before now. Hang on, I’ll program you in.
I pause, giving her the time she needs. I get a kick out of how blunt she is with people. I can’t imagine what her reaction to Alan would have been had it not been her first day at a new job. I know she was holding back for my sake. If she saw him on the street, I get the sneaking suspicion she wouldn’t have been sitting so quietly while he ogled her fun bags.
RAVEN: Okay, I’m back. You’re all plugged in, Huffy.
GRANT: Mr. Huffman, to you.
RAVEN: Sorry, we’re not at work. I get to call you whatever I want.
I laugh, and type: What are you wearing?
A few moments pass before she types. When she finishes, I notice there’s an incoming image to go along with the text. It’s too small to make out, so I click to enlarge, and when I do I’m smacked in the face with a photo of her in a change room somewhere, completely naked save for her black bra, and a black skirt she’s trying on.
Jesus Christ. My cock twitches at the sight of her tits, instantly growing hard. I reach down and grip it tight, trying to contain it within the confines of my trousers, but all that does is send a surge of pressure through my balls I know I’m going to have to release as soon as I get home.
Maybe sooner.
I close the image and read her text.
RAVEN: What do you think of this?
I know she’s referring to the skirt, but I type: I think those are just fine.
RAVEN: LOL. I mean the skirt, you perv. Haven’t you ever seen a woman’s breasts before?
GRANT: Of course, just none so…ample.
RAVEN: I guess those high society women are pretty flat, eh?
GRANT: You have no idea, and I do like that skirt. Where are you?
RAVEN: Barney’s. It’s $995, should I get it?
I don’t bat an eyelash. At this point, I’d let her buy the goddamn Statue of Liberty with my money. Yes , I text.
RAVEN: Really? I wasn’t being serious. I’m just having a bit of fun.
GRANT: I’m being
I nod reassuringly, asking, “How do I taste?”
Grant sucks in a sharp breath of air and takes a shuddering step back. “Like a cheap hamburger,” he jokes.
I laugh, releasing my pent up tension, and finish gathering the remainder of our lunch.
By the time I’m back at my desk, it’s already past one, and before I can sit and contemplate what just happened, the phone starts ringing and I’m lost in work, too busy to think about anything else until five o’clock hits and I clock out on what was undoubtedly the most interesting first day I’ve ever had on a job.
- 8 -
Grant
It’s past seven when I look at the time, and Raven is long gone with a business account credit card to get herself some new clothes for work. I sit at my desk, staring over spreadsheets and account charts on my computer, finding myself unable to concentrate on anything else except wondering how she’s making out.
Her first day on the job was certainly lively, to put it mildly.
Setting aside all that crap with Danziger, her and I had an interesting lunch date, and I have the gut rot to prove it. After eating that hamburger, I’ve done nothing but gobble Rolaids like candy.
And she wonders why I don’t eat that crap.
Glancing at my cell phone, I know I should probably just leave her be, but the temptation to text her is too strong, so I pick it up and swipe open the phone, clicking over to the messenger app. Her number is already programmed in. That’s nothing special, I have all my employees programmed into my phone, yet somehow it is special. She’s special, and I’m beginning to realize that more and more with each passing minute.
GRANT: How are you doing?
I send the text and wait. Stare at the phone for a while with anticipation until I see that she’s typing.
RAVEN: Who is this?
GRANT: It’s your boss. You know, the one whose money you’re currently spending.
RAVEN: Sorry, I didn’t have your number before now. Hang on, I’ll program you in.
I pause, giving her the time she needs. I get a kick out of how blunt she is with people. I can’t imagine what her reaction to Alan would have been had it not been her first day at a new job. I know she was holding back for my sake. If she saw him on the street, I get the sneaking suspicion she wouldn’t have been sitting so quietly while he ogled her fun bags.
RAVEN: Okay, I’m back. You’re all plugged in, Huffy.
GRANT: Mr. Huffman, to you.
RAVEN: Sorry, we’re not at work. I get to call you whatever I want.
I laugh, and type: What are you wearing?
A few moments pass before she types. When she finishes, I notice there’s an incoming image to go along with the text. It’s too small to make out, so I click to enlarge, and when I do I’m smacked in the face with a photo of her in a change room somewhere, completely naked save for her black bra, and a black skirt she’s trying on.
Jesus Christ. My cock twitches at the sight of her tits, instantly growing hard. I reach down and grip it tight, trying to contain it within the confines of my trousers, but all that does is send a surge of pressure through my balls I know I’m going to have to release as soon as I get home.
Maybe sooner.
I close the image and read her text.
RAVEN: What do you think of this?
I know she’s referring to the skirt, but I type: I think those are just fine.
RAVEN: LOL. I mean the skirt, you perv. Haven’t you ever seen a woman’s breasts before?
GRANT: Of course, just none so…ample.
RAVEN: I guess those high society women are pretty flat, eh?
GRANT: You have no idea, and I do like that skirt. Where are you?
RAVEN: Barney’s. It’s $995, should I get it?
I don’t bat an eyelash. At this point, I’d let her buy the goddamn Statue of Liberty with my money. Yes , I text.
RAVEN: Really? I wasn’t being serious. I’m just having a bit of fun.
GRANT: I’m being
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