Billionaire's Bribe (Blackmailed Into Bed) BBW Erotica

Copyright © 2012, Adriana Hunter

All Rights Reserved

Warning:
 
This book is non-transferable. It is for
your own personal use only. If this book is sold, distributed, shared or given
away, it is considered an infringement of the copyright of this work and
violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extend of the law.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and places are
solely the product of the author’s imagination.
 
Any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, including events, areas, locations and situations is entirely
coincidental.

Adriana Hunter © 2012
 
All rights reserved

Eva
drummed her fingers against the desk as she stared at the computer screen. Her
teeth worried her lower lip as her bank balance figure seemed to stare back at
her accusingly—a measly two thousand dollars. Less than half of the
month’s rent for her one-bedroom apartment in New York City. She should have
moved out when she lost her job, but she’d been in denial that she would fail
to find another one, and hadn’t wanted to lose her view of Central Park. But
now, if she didn’t do something soon, she was going to lose everything.

Glancing
at the phone, she briefly considered calling her parents to ask for money. Her
pride refused to allow her to dial the number—she’d already asked last
month. She was a grown woman of twenty-three and she needed to do this herself.
She was just going to have to suck it up and find a job.

Opening
up another window in her browser, she began searching job board sites. She made
herself look through the fast food ones and even applied for some of them, but
couldn’t help wincing at the pay rates. She’d have to take two or three if she
was going to continue financing her current lifestyle.

Disgusted,
she put her head in her hands. What was she doing? She used to be the assistant
for the owner of a printing company. Not incredibly glamorous, but it paid well
and the office atmosphere had been fun. At least until the printing company had
gone under. Times were hard and she’d barely managed to scrape by living off
unemployment and food stamps. In order to do that she’d had to cut down
severely on spending as it was—she couldn’t bear to think of what else
she would have to let go.

Stiffening
her resolve, she went back to Google and typed in a search request for
administrative jobs. She couldn’t let this happen to her. She just couldn’t.

Scrolling
through the lists of jobs that popped up, her heart leaped as she finally saw
what she wanted: it was a Personal Assistant position at Creative Enterprises,
one of the top advertising agencies in New York. Her eyes scanned over the job
description, and nearly fell out of their sockets at the salary listed. It
would more than cover her requirements. Her eyes moved down the list of
requirements and she froze--- amongst them was a Bachelor’s Degree in Business
Administration and five years of experience in related positions. She’d only
worked at the printing company for three years, and had never finished college.

A
vision of her wearing a McDonald’s uniform and handing out fries and burgers
through a Drive-Thru window had her setting her jaw. She would just have to
make it work. This position was perfect. The agency was located on her side of
town, and she knew she was more than capable of doing the tasks laid out in the
job description. She wasn’t going to let her lack of a college degree or
experience get in her way.

Taking
a breath, she opened a word document and selected a resume template, then
flexed her fingers over the keyboard. It was time to work some magic.

****

 
“Yes,” Eva told the recruiter, barely
able to keep the excitement out of her voice, “two o’clock tomorrow is perfect
for me.”

“Excellent.
We very much look forward to seeing you. I’ve sent an email with the date and
time and directions for your reference.”

“Thank
you so much.”

“You’re
welcome. Have a great day.”

Eva
hung up the phone and squealed in excitement. She had an interview! Tomorrow
afternoon she would be meeting her prospective employer and the man she would
be an assistant to. She was going to knock his socks off; she had no choice.

Rushing
into her room, she began to rummage through her closet for something suitable
to wear. She had twenty-four hours to put together her image and presentation.
And she was going to do her best. This Mr. Stone wouldn’t know what hit him.

****

Greyson
Stone sipped from his coffee mug as Eva Moore was
ushered into his office. His eyes roamed over her—thick, chestnut hair
pulled back into a French twist to reveal a heart shaped face with large, almond
shaped eyes, a cute little nose, and pouty lips. Her skin was like the breaking
dawn—pale with a rosy tint, and her curvy frame was wonderfully displayed
by the form-fitting black dress she wore.

Not
wanting to seem forward since he was her prospective employer, he brought his
eyes up to her own. The irises were amber, and he could see nerves and
determination in them. The first was to be expected, the second one made him
sit up a little straighter in his high-backed, leather swivel chair. In his
experience that look was one of the marks of a good employee—it separated
her as one of the ones who made a job, as opposed to ones that conformed to a
job.

“Good
afternoon.” He rose with a smile to shake her hand. Her fingers, with
pink-painted nails, appeared dainty, but they wrapped around his hand in a firm
grip. He liked the feel of her soft hand in his. “You must be Eva. I’m
Greyson
Stone, the CEO of Creative Enterprises.”

Those
pouty lips curved into a polite smile that warmed her eyes and eased a bit of
the nerves. The determination still burned brightly. “Nice to meet you, Mr.
Stone. Thank you so much for your consideration.”

“My
pleasure.” He sat and indicated with his hand for her to do the same, and it
truly was. The dress she wore wasn’t inappropriate in any way, but the ribbed
bodice accentuated and lifted her bust line so that he couldn’t help but
notice. A bare millimeter of cleavage poked out—not enough to offend
anyone’s sensibilities in this day and age, but enough to pique his interest,
to make him wonder what they would look like without the black cloth shielding
them from his view.

He
took out her resume, reviewed it. “You certainly appear to be very qualified
for this position, Ms. Moore. Your credentials and experience are actually
quite impressive.”

She
smiled, but there was a flash of nerves in her eyes that made him pause.

“Thank
you. I would be more than happy to assist you in maintaining and expanding your
company.”

“Indeed.”
Leaning forward, he began to ask the usual questions they asked all interview
applicants while mixing in some of his own. She remained poised and confident,
the hint of nerves still in her eyes but nearly outshone by that determination.
He decided to dismiss the nerves as a natural part of the interview—in
these trying times it only seemed natural someone would be nervous in an
interview, that they would misstep and lose the chance for the job. The
determination was what overrode her fear so that it didn’t show in her posture,
tone, or the way she answered his questions.

“Thank
you very much,” he said when it was over. “Do you have any questions for me?”

She
asked a few things about benefits, company protocol, etc., and then charged
right in. “How long should I expect to wait to hear back on this position?”

He
smiled. “You’re hired.”

Her
jaw dropped. “I am?” She seemed to realize her reaction and modulated her voice
and expression. “Not that I am not grateful… but don’t you have other
applicants to consider first? I would want to ensure you are making the best
choice for the company, after all.”

“I
assure you that I am. I’d already made up my mind the moment you fixed eyes on
me. I’d already looked at your resume before you arrived and knew you met the
qualifications. Your determination is what impresses me. I’ve no doubt you will
do whatever it takes to have and keep this job, and to assist me in any way
required.”

“Absolutely.”
The nerves were gone from her eyes, replaced with a joy bordering on glee. Her
lips
stretched into a grin that told him she would be
breaking into song and dance were
he
not in the room.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Stone. When do I begin?”

“Tomorrow.
I want you here at 8:30 A.M. My retiring assistant,
Jada
,
will show you the ropes.” He rose, inviting her wordlessly to do the same, and
shook her hand again. “Welcome to Creative Enterprises, Ms. Moore.”

“Thank
you Mr. Stone,” she said sincerely as she gripped his hand. “I won’t let you
down.”

He
watched her walk out the door, her ample hips swaying gently in that black
dress. “Hmm, I’m sure you won’t,” he murmured.

****

Eva
parked her Honda outside the skyscraper Creative Enterprises was housed in.
There was a bounce in her step as she traversed the pavement and entered the
revolving doors, then crossed the lobby with a click of her new platform pumps
against the black tile. Not even the elevator music could dim her smile as she
rode up to the top floor to begin her workday.

She’d
been at the company for a week now, and was having the time of her life.
Jada
had been there for the first three days, showing her
where everything was, setting her up with computer passwords and explaining her
duties. By the beginning of the fourth day
Jada
had
proclaimed to
Greyson
that Eva was a quick student
and had taken the ropes quite well. She assured them both that she wasn’t
needed anymore, and gave Eva her number and told her she could call anytime if
she had questions.

Today
was Monday, and marked the second day where she would be doing everything by
herself. She managed his schedule, brought him coffee, wrote his letters,
screened his emails, took phone calls, kept his files in order, and a host of
other activities. It was similar to what she’d done for the printing
company—just on a larger scale. She loved the feeling of being useful, of
being efficient once more.
 
And she
especially loved it when
Greyson
would stop by to
offer her a few words of praise, to tell her what a good job she was doing.

Actually,
she loved it whenever he talked to her at all. He had a rich, deep voice that
was like a velvet hand stroking down her spine. His smoky grey eyes were
fringed with thick, black lashes that made her heart beat faster even though
there was never anything in them but polite respect.

Occasionally
she thought she’d glimpsed something more, something that accelerated her pulse
and caused her to lick her lips, but it was gone so fast she was sure she was
just imagining it. His ten thousand dollar suits were perfectly tailored to
show off his tall, muscular body, and his thick, dark hair was a little longer
than the norm—it curled to just below his jawline.