Megan Hart - Switch

Of becoming my mother.

"Al right."

We stared at each other. Paul cleared his throat and

rocked on his heels a bit. I took the files and set them in a

tidy pile in front of me to show him I would, indeed, get to

them. Not at that instant, and I wasn't jumping through

hoops to do it, but it would happen.

"Paige, there's something else I'd like to talk to you about."

I studied him for a second, trying to gauge what it could be

about, then nodded. "Sure. What about?"

"Can you come into my office in about ten minutes?"

He asked as though he was afraid I'd say no, even though

technicaly we both knew I didn't have a choice.

"Absolutely."

"Thanks." He'd always been polite, but he was nearly

dancing now with some hidden anxiety.

There were many things I knew about my boss, some I'd

known from the start and others I'd learned only over time.

When it al came down to it, though, I liked Paul very

much. Whatever had his garters snapping, it was going to

make it impossible for him to get some work done until it

was resolved.

"Go get yourself a mug of coffee," I told him. "I'l send off these reports and see you in ten minutes."

I hadn't given him permission, and it was nothing he

couldn't have decided for himself, but the relief in his eyes

at my suggestion made me glad I'd made it. I flipped

through the reports while he poured his coffee and made

some notes about what needed to be sent where, then

ducked down the hal to visit the restroom then make

some copies so I could be back in time to meet with him.

He sat in a familiar slouch at his desk when I pushed open

He sat in a familiar slouch at his desk when I pushed open

his door, but he turned his attention immediately to me.

"Paige, hi. Would you sit down, please?"

I did, and watched his gaze flicker over my bared knees as

I crossed my legs. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Nothing's wrong. I just…wanted to talk to you."

I waited. Paul drew in a breath and pushed back in his

chair to run a hand over the top of his head. He'd taken off

his suit jacket, but his tie was as snug to his throat as if it

had grown there. He cleared his throat, and I waited

another ten seconds for him to speak.

"It's about your performance."

I sat up a little straighter. "Yes?"

"It's past time for your first review."

I understood that. Kely Printing, like most companies,

gave annual reviews, but they also had an introductory

probation period for al new employees. They'd told me

about it when they hired me. Six months into the new job,

you could be out on your ass if you didn't live up to

expectations. It was hard to believe I'd been here that

long. It felt more like forever, actualy.

Again, I waited for him to speak. That was the thing with

Paul. He took his time with talk. I thought it was because

each word that came from him had to mean something,

like he had to weigh their worth before he said them.

Unlike writing, you can't scratch out speech. Once it's

said, there's nothing you can do to erase it.

"I just wanted you to know I'l be giving you the highest

ratings, that's al. And recommending you for advanced

training."

My pleased smile sat oddly on my face, which had been

expecting to frown. "Realy? Great. Thanks, Paul."

He seemed a little more at ease once he'd told me, though

his fingers stil toyed nervously with his pen. He roled it

onto the edge of the blotter, then off. It hit the desk with a

sharp click.

"You're welcome. I've been very pleased with your work."

"I've enjoyed working with you."

He nodded a bit and focused his attention on the pen.

"There are some opportunities available in-house. A good

recommendation could…um…lead the way to some of

them."

This was interesting news I wasn't sure how to process.

"Like what?"

"Promotion opportunities."

I read the buletin boards in the hal by the office mail every

day. I saw the internal-job postings along with the memos

on company policy and announcements about the holiday

parties and picnics. Nothing there had caught my eye or

sent me into spasms of excitement. I'd never considered

applying for any of them. I stil intended to get my MBA

when they'd chip in to pay for it.

"Such as?" I leaned forward.

"They're looking for someone to start in a new entry-level

marketing position in Vivian Darcy's department."

"And if I don't want to work for Vivian?"

For a moment, Paul looked pleased before he smoothed

For a moment, Paul looked pleased before he smoothed

his features into studied neutrality. "It's something to think

about. You can't be an assistant forever, Paige."

That was certainly true, and I was touched he cared

enough to think so. "I don't plan to be."

"This could be a good chance for you," he said.

And that was true, too. So why did we both look so sad?

I knew from Eric's schedule that he'd be home around

eight o'clock today. I gave him half an hour for dinner,

another fifteen minutes for a shower. If he was as eager as

I was to folow the instructions I'd left him, it wouldn't be

more than that.

The black trench coat I wore wasn't meant to make me

look like a pervert, though that's what I felt like as I

entered the parking garage. I'd picked it to help

camouflage me in the shadows, but I had toyed with the

idea of going naked beneath it. I ended up putting on black

jogging pants and a black T-shirt instead, not bold enough

to go bare. I might have had I had a note teling me to do

it, I thought with a smile as I climbed the second flight of

stairs.

stairs.

I came out onto a nearly empty level. At this time of night

the spots taken up by daytime commuters would be

vacant. But from this level I had a clear view across the

street and into Eric's first-floor apartment.

The concrete wal hit me chest high, but I could lean on it

to look across the street. At 9:00 p.m., night had already

falen. The orange lights of the parking garage lit the door

to the stairs and hit every other pilar, but none was above

my head and so I had no glare to distract me. The

streetlights, too, were placed far enough apart they didn't

interfere with my voyeurism.

I hadn't brought a pair of binoculars, but realy didn't need

them. The street between the buildings was one-way and

narrow. I could have spit and hit his window. Inside his

apartment, the lights went on.

My ears rang, and I let out the breath I'd been keeping

prisoner in my lungs. He was there. This was realy going

to happen.

Everyone peeks. We do it al the time when we drive past

houses at night with the lights on, in hotel rooms we can

see into from across a courtyard, when we pass a half-

see into from across a courtyard, when we pass a half-

closed office door. I'd never set out to spy in hopes of

catching someone doing something naughty. I couldn't

decide if the tension in my gut and tingling in my fingertips

were from ilicit arousal or self-loathing.

The former, I thought as the curtains in Eric's bedroom

twitched and the light came on in there, too. I was more of

a pervert than I'd ever imagined. Voyeurism had never

melted my butter before, but knowing this would get him

off, that this was a trigger for him, got my nipples hard and

built an ache between my thighs I knew I'd have to

aleviate with my own hand before the night was through.

He stood at the window for a minute or two, looking out

for so long I wondered if he could see me. With the light

inside his room and the dark out here, I didn't think so. I

didn't dare move. Shielded by shadows, I drew in slow,

even breaths and watched him stare out into the night. He

didn't look as if he saw me, or anyone, though his eyes

moved side to side, searching.

Finaly, he turned and took a few steps toward the bed.

He wore only a towel, his hair wet and slicked back.

Water gleamed in silver droplets on the tanned skin of his

back and shoulders. I wasn't quite close enough to see

back and shoulders. I wasn't quite close enough to see

them run in rivulets down his spine and into the crack of his

ass below the towel's edge, but I could imagine it. And

did.

He hesitated, looking over his shoulder with a hand at his

waist. I wondered if he'd ever thought so hard before

about who might see him from outside. Though I kept my

sheers drawn al the time, they wouldn't entirely block a

peeper from getting an eyeful, but I'd never realy believed

anyone was trying to. I was sure I'd think of it every time,

now, and wonder who might be spying on me when I

thought I was alone.

The difference was, Eric knew he wasn't alone. I thought it

would make it more difficult to get naked, knowing, even

though he had said he liked it. That he wanted it. His

shoulders hunched for a moment and then the towel was

gone. Disappeared.

God, from the back he was magnificent. Broad shoulders,

lean waist, smooth skin. His ass was tight and looked firm.

A patch of dark hair furred the smal of his back and

drifted over his buttocks to get thicker at his thighs and

legs. His arms, too, were covered in thick, dark hair. He

half turned so I could see his chest and I grinned in delight.

half turned so I could see his chest and I grinned in delight.

Hair there, too, dark and curling around his nipples, but

not overpowering him. A woman could stil find bare skin

to kiss al over him, center her tongue on those nipples and

flick them with her tongue until he cried out for mercy.

I had to grip the concrete wal to steady myself at my

unwinding thoughts. Austin, blond-haired and fair skinned,

had little hair on his chest and had taken to trimming his

pubic hair. I didn't mind grooming, but I'd gotten used to

seen a man without so much hair. Looking at Eric opened

up something half-embarrassing I could only think of as…

primal.

Eric lay on the bed, his cock in his hand. He stared at the

ceiling as he stroked, already half-hard. In the porn I'd

seen the men had always yanked so hard on their pricks it

looked painful. Eric didn't start off with a two-fisted yank.

He ran a slow hand over his bely and thighs before

gripping his cock, which he stroked just as slowly from

base to crown and down again before repeating the

journey.

I was mesmerized.

The head of Eric's bed was against the wal opposite his

The head of Eric's bed was against the wal opposite his

bedroom door, which placed the bed paralel to the

window. Like the rest of his apartment, his bedding was

simple, even stark. He'd already puled down the black

quilted comforter and blankets and now lay on the plain

white sheet. He hitched himself a little higher to put his

head on the pilow.

Did it make a difference, knowing he was being watched?

I thought it had to. Why else would he take such time to

show off? The bulge and flex of his biceps had me biting

my lower lip. So did the flex of his calves when he bent his

legs to push his hips upward.

I leaned forward too far, risking being seen, when his leg

blocked the view of his gorgeous cock being stroked so

slowly in that big fist, but as if he knew exactly what he

was doing, Eric pushed that leg straight and bent the other,

instead, keeping my view clear. His back arched as his

head tipped back into the pilow. I wanted to see his face,

but though I could make out the dark shadow of eyes and

the slope of his nose, distance blurred his features a bit.

With a hand stil on his erection, Eric reached with the

other beneath his pilow to pul out a bottle. My lube came