His manager next day

The next morning I walked into the office in the same dress I’d worn the night before, the one Rajesh had already seen bunched around my waist. The security guard didn’t look twice. My brother was already at his desk, shoulders tight, eyes fixed on his monitor like the screen could erase what he’d watched at 2 a.m. I didn’t say good morning. I went straight to Rajesh’s cabin.

Rajesh was on a call. He saw me through the glass, lifted one finger, and kept talking. I waited outside like I belonged there. When he hung up he opened the door himself.

“Inside,” he said.

I stepped in. He locked it. The blinds were already half-closed.

“You sent him everything,” he said. Not a question.

“Yes.”

He nodded once, then pulled his wallet out and handed me a black card. “There’s a shop two blocks down. Size 7, black, the ones with the red soles. Come back wearing them. Don’t take the tags off until I tell you.”

I took the card. My brother watched me leave the floor. I felt his stare between my shoulder blades the whole way to the elevator.

The shop was quiet. I tried on three pairs. The salesgirl wrapped the ones Rajesh wanted. I paid with his card, slipped the heels on in the changing room, and walked back in them. The click of the soles on the lobby marble was loud. People looked. I didn’t care.

When I reached the cabin again Rajesh was standing. He looked at the heels, then at my legs, then at my mouth.

“Lock the door.”

I did.

He sat in his chair and spread his knees. “On your knees. Keep the shoes on.”

I sank down. The carpet was thin. The heels dug into the backs of my calves. I unzipped him. He was already half-hard. I took him in my mouth without being told. He tasted like the coffee he’d been drinking and the salt of last night. I worked him slow at first, tongue flat, lips tight, the way he’d liked it in the hotel. His hand settled on the back of my head, not pushing yet, just resting.

Outside, phones rang. Someone laughed near the printer. My brother’s desk was twenty feet away. I could hear the low murmur of his voice on a call. Rajesh heard it too. His fingers tightened in my hair.

“Deeper.”

I took him to the back of my throat. He groaned, quiet, controlled. His hips lifted once. I gagged softly and stayed there until my eyes watered. When I pulled off for air he wiped the spit from my chin with his thumb and pushed it back into my mouth.

“Again.”

I did it again. And again. He kept me there until my jaw ached and my lipstick was gone. When he was close he held my head still and fucked my mouth in short, sharp thrusts. I let him. The only sounds were the wet slide of my throat and the low creak of his chair. He came with a grunt, thick and hot, straight down my throat. I swallowed twice. He kept me down until he softened, then pulled out and tucked himself away.

“Stand up. Bend over the desk.”

I stood on shaking legs. The heels made me taller. I placed my palms on the cold wood. He flipped my dress up. No panties. He’d told me not to wear any. His hand came down hard on my ass, once, twice. The sound was sharp. I bit my lip.

He pushed two fingers into me. I was already wet from sucking him. He fucked me with his fingers while he opened his belt again. When he was hard he lined up and shoved in. One long stroke. I gasped. He covered my mouth with his palm.

“Quiet. Your brother’s right outside.”

He fucked me like that, deep and steady, one hand over my mouth, the other gripping my hip. Every thrust rocked the desk. A pen rolled off and hit the floor. I came with his fingers still pressed against my lips, clenching around him, thighs shaking in the expensive heels. He didn’t stop. He kept going until he was close again, then pulled out, turned me around, and pushed me to my knees a second time. He finished on my tongue. I held it out so he could see, then swallowed.

He zipped up. Adjusted his shirt. Looked at the heels.

“Keep them. Wear them out.”

I fixed my dress. My legs were unsteady. When I unlocked the door my brother was standing ten feet away with a folder in his hands. He saw my mouth, swollen and bare of lipstick. He saw the heels. He saw Rajesh behind me, calm, already answering another call.

My brother’s face went blank. Two colleagues walked past and glanced between us. One of them smirked. My brother turned and walked back to his desk without a word. His shoulders were lower than they’d been an hour ago.

Rajesh finished his call. He picked up his jacket.

“Lunch,” he said to me. “You’re coming with me.”

I followed him out. The heels clicked all the way to the elevator. My brother didn’t look up. On the ground floor Rajesh opened the passenger door of his car. I got in. He drove. Neither of us spoke until we were three blocks away.

“He’ll lose more than respect by the end of the week,” Rajesh said. “You did well.”

I looked at the red soles resting on his floor mat and smiled.