#nikwrites

Your stomach lurched with the elevator as you tried to quell the swimming ache in your head with deep calming breaths. 

The smell of roasted coffee beans permeate the confined space from the steaming cup burning your hand and you’re torn between loving the soothing scent of it and hating the fight through the early morning subway crowd it took to get it. 

A ding alerted your arrival to the top floor, driving a spear of pain directly through your throbbing temple. Every stop announced along the subway ride, honking horn from bypassing taxis, and clank of glass on steel in the cafe made you regret every shot you’d taken the night before. 

You know better than to drink as though you had a normal job with a normal boss. You had mornings that started before the sun came up and long hours spent shifting meetings and taking calls. But you did anyway. Your dull and stress filled days were what drove you to the bar with your co-workers in the first place, but now the thought of waiting hand and foot on the most demanding Chief Executive Officer in all of New York City while suffering from the hangover of the century made you yearn for the sweet embrace of death. 

You step out into the eerie quiet of the floor of executive offices. Every other morning you found yourself unnerved by the silence and missing the early bustle and fake potted plants from the cramped bullpen you had been plucked from. But today the silence provided by the only four offices occupying the vast floor felt like a gift from God. 

You unlock an opening in the stretching wall of glass that leads into your office (reception area), stopping momentarily at the fancy set up across from your rounded desk to press the start button on the coffee machine siting beside the two glass dispensers you would later fill with infused water. 

Even though you needed coffee like you needed oxygen in the moment, the twenty four dollar dark roast you struggled to obtain belonged to the perfectionist waiting in his office who had no doubt arrived well before your expected 5:30 AM clock in time. 

Alot of the time you suspected that he never even left. There was a small assortment of suits and a shower hidden away in his private restroom that could attest to how much of a workaholic Roman Reigns could be. 

“Mr. Reigns?” A soft knock at his door goes unanswered and you hesitate before you open it. You’re much more afraid to deliver lukewarm coffee than the consequence of a small interruption so you enter cautiously. His office isn’t locked, so you know your boss isn’t far away when you don’t immediately see him. 

“Y/N?” A deep baritone from the opening behind the shifting bookcase where a light spills into the large office startles you. “I wasn’t expecting you in today.” He says, rolling the door/bookshelf hybrid completely out of the way, leaning into his arms resting against the door frame. 

It takes you a moment to process that he’s talking to you, speak, hell even breathe because the height and muscle of him filling the frame of the doorway is only covered by a towel wrapped around his waist. 

It was a known fact that Mr. Reigns was infuriatingly attractive. It often made the job of working closely with him extremely difficult. But seeing him now, how you’ve never seen him before left you dry mouthed and mind rattled, with only two words spinning in your mind: God Damn.

Droplets of water race down hills and ridges of muscle beneath sun toasted skin. The absence of the crisp white long sleeves you’re accustomed to seeing him wear beneath his tailored suit jackets reveal a massive pattern of intricately woven tribal patterns that engulf his entire right arm, climbing over a broad muscled shoulder to wind around his right peck. 

His hair, which was usually smoothed neatly back into a bun behind his head, was loose and dripping water down long, long dark waves that stuck to his damp skin. You swallowed in attempt to quench a sudden thirst, blinking rapidly as you try to recover. This was still your same very professional, very strict, boss you were currently ogling. 

“Wh–wha-” You clear your throat. “I’m sorry what? I’m here everyday Mr. Reigns.” You say, in confusion, hungover and completely unprepared for the morning’s steamy turn of events. 

Full lips pull into a knowing smirk before he pushes off of the doorframe. You wince internally knowing he caught every moment of your eye-fucking. “I assumed from your call last night that you weren’t going to be able to make it into work today.” He said, completely disregarding his state of undress as he made his way over to his large mahogany desk. His smooth voice was quiet but filled the silence enough to stir up a swamp of unease in your stomach.

I called in to work? Your confusion only increased. You never called in. You hadn’t missed a single day in the year and half since your promotion to Mr. Reign’s executive assistant. “I–I don’t think I know what you’re talking about-” 

An obnoxious high-pitched beep rang through the room, cutting off your fumbled words mid-sentence. You have 3 new messages. A robotic feminine voice rose from the speaker of the phone resting on your boss’ desk. First message. 

“Yeah uh, hi, Mr. Reigns. Roman–um sir.” The icy feeling that spills from the top of your head over the rest of your body is indescribable when you hear your slurred voice sound from the speakerphone. Your lips part and your jaw went slack in anticipation of a gasp that never comes. You can’t breathe. Not when Mr. Reigns’ arms come across his still very bare, very wet, chest as he looked up from the phone to raise an expectant eyebrow in your direction. 

“-It’s Y/N. I’m calling to let you know that I’m not going to be able to make it to work tomorrow.” You continued speaking. “As much I would just looove to spend another invigorating day rejecting calls from people you’re obviously too important to talk to, It’s been a long night for me.” Your fingers fly over your open mouth as your eyes shoot up to Mr. Reigns’ in horror when hear yourself giggle drunkenly. Oh god, how drunk was I? 

“Not that I don’t appreciate working for you. It’s–it’s an honor being your executive assistant and all, and the pay is–shockingly amazing–but I’m exhausted as it is and it’s just so fucking boring, I just know I’m going to fall asleep at my desk. So you’re just gonna have to find someone else who can handle the difficult task of offering glasses of cucumber water and saying ‘mr. reigns will see you now.’ over and over for hours on end.-” You sound so condescending and smug it feels like you’re being forced to suffer through an actual living nightmare. 

“I know I’ve never missed a day and I really do feel bad for the inconvenience but seriously, I can’t! I just can’t do it. I graduated from Brown with honors just to work as the glorified office maid for someone who’s as interesting as watching paint dry. And I mean that in the best possible way, Mr. Reigns. I respect you so much. And, god, you’re so sexy but fuck! Loosen up a little, tell a joke every once in a while. At least so I don’t have to spend everyday fantasizing about sitting on that gorgeous boring face of yours. Anyway, I would say I hope you have a good night but I know you’re still working, so I’ll see you Thursday at the ass crack of dawn. Night!”

The beep sounds through the room again and Roman presses a button ending the call. Silence stretches between the both of you while you stand frozen in horrified embarrassment still holding that damn cup of coffee. 

You mouth works before your voice does and your lips open and close a few times before words fall out. “I’ll–um–I’ll go clean out my desk.” You say after a while.

Mr. Reigns nods. “I think that would be a good idea.”

You close the space between the two of you, setting his coffee on his desk for the last time while feeling overcome with a dirty mixture of shame and hungover. 

“Wait’s a second.” Mr. Reigns’ voice and a hand around your wrist stops you from leaving once you turn to clear out your things. 

You heave a sigh, “If you insist on firing me with a lecture, could you please at least put your penis away?” 

A rumble of deep chuckling is the only response he gives. You feel yourself being lead ‘round the desk to where Mr. Reigns stood. “There’s an open office manager position in Human Resources. I’d like you to consider interviewing for it on Friday, with my recommendation of course.”

There’s a long pause before you shake your head, blinking in disbelief. “I’m sorry what?” 

Your is mind completely lost in the haze of confusion caused by the whiplash from being fired and offered a new position in less than five minutes. As well as the sudden warmth radiating from your close proximity to your boss’ body, the smell of warm spice from his shower gel filling your nose each time you inhale, and now the conflicting feelings caused by the dull throbbing in your head and the warm stirring between your legs. 

“What are you doing?” You ask.

A half smile lifts his lips as his hands trace over the maroon pencil skirt hugging your hips. “Loosening up.” He says.

You gasp and brace your hands on his shoulders as you’re lifted suddenly and seated on his desk. You’re stunned. And completely speechless. 

Mr. Reigns never laughs, he never smiles, never gives you a second glance, yet you drunk dialed him, then you were fired but might also be getting a promotion. It was all too much. 

“When I saw your name one the list of qualified employees to consider for the position, I didn’t even give it a second thought.” He continues, as if there wasn’t a wandering hand trailing as far up your skirt as the tight fabric would allow. “You do good work, don’t get me wrong, but you seemed to lack the leadership, the directness the job required. And admittedly, I selfishly wanted to keep you right where you were.” He says, giving your knees a rough pull, bringing your ass to the edge of the desk and spreading your legs wide enough for him to step between them. 

Your eyes fall to the the fabric bunched around your thighs, and you swallow at how close you are to the towel hanging loosely around Mr. Reigns’ hips, your teeth sink into the plump swell of your bottom lip and you wonder if you’re still drunk, maybe even passed out and dreaming on the subway. 

“But now…” He trails off, wetting his lips. His eyes trailing to yours from where his hands were claiming your waist with a confidence that made you feel like you already belonged to him and had for a long time. “I think it’s obvious why you can no longer work as closely to me as you have been.”

Your mind begins to slowly string together the realization that your disaster of a drunk dail wasn’t exactly ending the way you thought it would. Your hands dare to move along the heated skin on his naked shoulders, feeling down his strong arms and giving the back of his biceps a timid squeeze to see if they felt as solid as they looked. They did. 

You were over the moon that you weren’t exactly losing your job, and even more thrilled that the man you’ve been infatuated with since the day you started working for the company three years ago was currently feeling you up on the very desk you’d imagined him fucking the soul from body on, but you weren’t entirely comfortable with it being the reason you moved higher in the company. 

You finally find the courage to meet the piercing eyes that intimidate you so much. “So… you’re promoting me because I insinuated this job is beneath me and told you I want to sit on your face?” 

The corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. You noticed when Mr. Reigns flashes you a heart fluttering grin. “I’m saying I underestimated you.” He says, working open the top button of your flimsy polka dotted blouse, continuing down. 

“I’m saying you had me fooled with your ‘yes sir’s and ‘right away sir’s-” He exhaled a slow sigh as his hands slide through your now open blouse to meet the skin underneath. His voice sounds husky and rough when he continues speaking. “I foolishly believed that, that attitude with your skills made the job of being my pretty little assistant a perfect fit for you, but I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

Time moves in slow motion as Mr. Reigns’s hands continue a tortuously slow exploration beneath your blouse. Caressing up your sides and flattening around your back, touching every bit of you almost like he was savoring it. 

He has to tear his eyes from the generosity of your push-up bra to meet yours. “You’re more than that, aren’t you baby?” 

An almost inaudible groan growls impatiently in your throat when his touch neglects the soft mounds of your breasts aching for his attention, moving up instead to your shoulders to slide your sleeves out of the way.

The angry damn right I am and the swooning fuck, he called me baby running rampant in your mind meld into an incessant need that has you bringing his lips down hard against yours. 

He groans into your mouth, bringing you closer with a hand at the small of your back when your hands slips out of his damp waves to struggle out of the sleeves draping down your shoulders. 

Your lips part in a moan when he snatches the offending fabric away from your body and his tongue swipes the soft plumpness of your lip before dipping into your mouth teasingly. 

You work in sync deepening your kisses and removing your clothes. He angles his head sucking your lip into his mouth tonguing it softly before releasing it and melding his lips back into yours while your hands find the zipper at the back of your skirt. Your arms come around his neck keeping your body close to his while he lifts you enough to yank the loosened skirt over the curve of your backside. 

When you suck in a gasp, you’re not sure if it’s from your naked ass meeting the cold wood of the desk or the hand gripping tightly over the cup of your bra. 

His lips part from yours with a wet smack. “Unfortunately, this won’t be able to continue once you start the managing job on Friday.” He says, licking those full enticing lips as his fingers come around to trail down your spine. You nod gaining a soft peck on the lips.

He exhales slowly against your lips, his fingers tracing along the thin line of fabric hugging your hips. “And it may have worked in your favor this time, but a stunt like that won’t be tolerated in the future.” 

You’re startled out of your lust filled daze by his other hand on your neck. His thumb and forefinger resting beneath your jaw while the rest of his fingers wrap gently around your neck. He forces your eyes to meet his. “Do you understand?”

You were completely unfulfilled in your executive assistant job and the both of you knew you this was the first time of were anything less than unprofessional. There was plenty of time between now and Friday that you hoped Mr. Reigns would let you take full advantage of.

You go to nod again but his grip on you is firm. A smirk spreads across your dry lips, causing you to wet them. Heat rolls through you like a sandstorm in the desert as Mr. Reigns watches your tongue sinking his teeth into his own lip, leaving an oasis between your thighs that spreads over your lower lips. 

Your eyes bore into his when they finally find yours and you hold his gaze, even as you feel the string of your thong slowly being pulled to the side, and you say “Yes Sir.”

“Fuck.” He breathes out a heated whisper, watching your lashes flutter as he eases two thick fingers into your slick pulsating heat. You head falls back when a moan wells up from the pit of your stomach, Mr. Reigns’ attacks your neck with sloppy open mouthed kisses while slowly working his fingers in and out of you, manipulating searing pulses from your nerves like it was his profession.

A violent shudder earthquakes through your body when his fingers press deep into your soaking pussy making ‘comehither’ motions that hit your body like a raw hot lightening strike of bliss.