Allure of the Vixen Read Online Free Page A

commute on late nights.
    I should have just said no. I didn’t think she was
the type to make a scene in the office, make up some kind of story about me.
But I also knew she wouldn’t go away, there was something she had set her
sights on, something she needed to do.
    And there were those eyes, and those fucking legs.
    Against my better judgment, I said, “Tomorrow.
Noon.” And I gave her the address.
    When I hung up the phone, I couldn’t decide if what
I feared more was seeing her, or not seeing her.
    The next day I didn’t even go into the
office. I worked from my apartment, as I often did, my job being somewhat
mobile. Mostly though, I wanted to avoid walking the few blocks from the office
to my place at about the same time Joanne would be on that same walk.
    I really had no idea exactly what she wanted. A few
thoughts did come to mind. Maybe she hoped I could help her get ahead in the
office. I was an executive, she wasn’t, but we worked in totally different
groups; I can’t imagine what I could have done for her, or what she thought I
could do for her. Talk to her boss maybe? Joanne couldn’t be so naïve to not see
how ridiculous that would be. Hey, there’s this woman in your department, I
haven’t worked with her or anything, I don’t even exactly know what she does or
how well she does it, but I want you to give her a promotion. The guy would
think I was an idiot, and he’d be right.
    Some kind of money scam? That also appeared
unrealistic, Joanne was always dressed in stylish, expensive outfits, and wore good
jewelry. I’d seen her in diamond earrings a few times, big ones. I’d heard the
women in the office talk about her shoes, I knew nothing about shoes, but from
what they said Joanne spent plenty on her wardrobe. Could she possibly want a
sugar daddy?
    I didn’t have enough to go on, so I put it out of my
head, as much as I could. I admit I was a bit more careful that morning getting
ready, shaving off the three day stubble I frequently sported, thinking more
than usual about my tie selection. I’d be going in to the office after our
lunch, and was dressed for the work day. I’m a bit into clothes, it’s where I
spent my money, having learned a long time ago that if you were going to spend
a long day in a suit, it was amazing how much more comfortable you’d be in
cashmere, even if the suit did cost three grand.
    Joanne’s job was on the clock, I knew she’d only
have an hour. At quarter to twelve I set out a salad, grilled chicken I’d
picked up at the deli, and some cheese and crackers. Soda water and tea. I had
forgotten to ask what she liked to eat.
    On the dot of twelve the apartment buzzer went off,
a little surprising to me, since my building had a doorman who was supposed to
announce all visitors.
    I opened the door.
    Joanne brushed past me in the small entry, touching
my arm briefly, personally, my soft cotton shirt no protection for the warmth
in her fingers. Caught between arousal and bemusement, I followed her into my
own apartment.
    As Joanne eyed my place, taking it in, I had a few seconds
to study her. She was wearing an outfit slightly different from what she normally
wore to the office. I couldn’t quite place it at first, a slim skirt and
blouse, heels, stockings or pantyhose. Yet something was different. . .
    More thigh. The dress was a little shorter. The
muscles in her calves, my weakness, more pronounced, set off by slightly higher
heels. The blouse was actually less form fitting than what she normally wore,
her breasts less pronounced, which only served to draw my eyes there, once I
pulled them away from her legs.
    When Joanne turned to me I could see that she had
less makeup on, or so I thought, or maybe it was masterfully applied, her
striking green eyes pools of emerald bait. Her hair was up, not like she
normally wore it, she looked even more refined, more elegant. Just a few
strands of hair fell onto her neck, and I had to resist the urge to tuck