Personal Assistant (12 page)

       
“Sex
partner?” he scoffed. “Good to know.”

       
She
wondered if maybe
he
was
PMSing
. Continuing she said, “I cycle once every six months
thanks to this new shot. Birth control has come a long way, baby.”

       
“So
you’re not…”

       
“No,”
Frankie smirked.”
Not this week anyways.”

       
“Take
your clothes off.” He reached for her and she squealed in that girly way she
hated.

       
His
hand grabbed her ankle and she went sliding towards him over the slick top of
the sleeping bag.

       
“You
are incorrigible,” she said as he climbed up her body and she settled in on top
of the sleeping bag.

       
“Why
were you so cranky and sensitive earlier?” he asked.

       
She
could smell the fresh mint of the chewing gum as he blew out a green bubble and
popped it on her lips. He was careful not to kiss her, or come close to kissing
her, but he found ways to touch them nonetheless.

       
“I
was afraid of falling, then you said I was fat, and…”

       
“I
never said that.” He wrinkled his brow.

       
“Not
in those exact words, but you said I was going to break your arm, and then you
said I needed to get in shape.” She crossed her arms and looked up at him.

       
His
cheeky grin cooled her temper. The hand pulling her thigh so he could settle
easier between her legs smoothed her frustrated expression into a heavy lidded
sigh of lust. She wanted him.
Anytime, anywhere.
It
was undeniable. Not because he was a superstar. No, that had passed. She wanted
him because he knew how to make her come, repeatedly. He was generous with
taking his time, not that he needed to, she was usually ready before he truly
began.

       
“This
is my favorite shape to get you in,” he said. He lowered his face to hers, just
barely an inch away.

       
Her
heart pounded uncontrollably. She wasn’t sure if he kissed her that she would
stop him. His eyelashes, long, thick, sensuous, just like the rest of him, drew
her attention and she unwrapped her crossed arms to stroke her thumb across one
section of them.

       
“You
have gorgeous eyelashes,” she whispered.

       
He
moved his head and pulled at her glasses with his teeth.

       
She
giggled. “What are you doing?”

       
“I’ve
kinda
got my hands full here. I can’t very well hold
myself upright, pull this delightfully flexible leg up and over, and remove
your glasses so I can see your eyelashes better. I hadn’t really noticed them.
I get fixated on the color and…”

       
Frankie
removed her glasses and sat them safely aside.

       
He
pulled her leg higher, pressed his hips harder against her crotch and brushed
his lips over her eye, tickling the lashes as he did. “They are a little
stiff.”

       
“Mascara.”
She gasped as he thrust his hips against her
again. “Clear, because I just…”

       
“Hmmm,
and here I thought you were just naturally beautiful.” He pulled her leg again
as he lifted to settle at her side and pulled so that she was on top again.

       
Frankie
hated to admit that she started using cosmetics more in the past few weeks than
she had used in her entire life. Normally she wore make-up for special occasions
and a small amount for work. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to look
camping, but whenever he was in public there was always a chance someone might
take a picture. She didn’t want to be the homely girl trailing behind him on
the phone. She was ashamed of her new found vanity. She wasn’t important and
yet the standard was for everyone to look beautiful.
Ridiculous.

       
“Not
everyone can be you.” She pressed her hands against his chest and slid them
down to the hem of his t-shirt.

***

       
Jonas
closed his eyes as he let Frankie take over. How could she be so stupid and so
smart at the same time? Brilliant, he knew that much, at least academically.
When it came to common sense, the woman was oblivious to his advances. He
wasn’t exactly great at courting someone. He had only courted women in the
movies. Women came naturally, easily to him. He didn’t have to whip out the
flowers and go knocking on doors. Frankie was perfectly fine just fucking him.
It was a role reversal and he suddenly felt bad for the way he had managed
relationships in his past. He was certainly reaping what he had sown.

       
The
moment her lips hit his navel he forgot all about his past transgressions and
focused on the moment at hand. He pulled the shirt she had pushed up to his
neck over his head as she unfastened his shorts. He had been called insatiable
in the past. Frankie sated him. The desire never abated, but he was always
satisfied, comfortable in his efforts. She let him learn her body and she took
the time to learn his. Like now, when she curled her tongue around the head of
his cock in that way she did.

       
She
still had every stitch of her clothes on. He wanted to stop her, to undress
her, to watch her breasts swing free from the contraption that had them pressed
against her ribs in strait-jacket like restraint. He wanted to touch the curve
of her abdomen, sink his fingers into the flesh of her thighs. He wanted to do
a lot of things, but at the moment, he couldn’t do more than gasp for breath
and marvel at her expertise.

       
Too
quick he was ready to come. He opened his eyes and looked down at her. His abs
jumped, tensed, his thighs clenched, his hand moved to grip his shaft and her
lips hit his fingers hard, as if trying to press beyond them. If he didn’t know
any better he would have thought she was trying to make it quick.

       
“I
need a minute,” he rasped out.

       
She
pulled her head up and let go with a popping sound. His chest rose and fell
with heavy breaths.

       
“You’re
ready to come, Jonas. I know you are.” She traced a finger over the top of his
dick and he fought to keep both eyes open.

       
“But
you…”

       
“Enjoy
this,” she said and he thought for sure she meant it. It was difficult to sift
through the emotions at a time like this. She continued as she traced the head
of his prick leisurely, “I really do. I know some women don’t, but I do.”

       
“Then
I owe you one.” He conceded as she bent over to consume him again.

       
Frankie
knew exactly what to do. She traced the line of his sac, cradled his balls as
they tightened, pulled. He watched her as she moved up and down, her sighs
something he hadn’t really noticed before. She did enjoy it. The thought singed
his spine, drove him faster.

       
“I
want to see it,” he croaked out.

       
She
opened her mouth and let her tongue slip up the base of his dick to the tip
where it danced, circled, and then she closed around the head and pressed down
the length of him again. She kept it up until his vision blurred. He blinked,
focused, his jaws clenched as his body wound up for the release. Pressure,
pleasure, rocketed through him from the tip of his spine to the tip of his
toes. He watched the geyser spill into her mouth. She didn’t flinch, didn’t
make any face indicating she was opposed to his taste. Not even a little bit.

       
He
pulled her up and over him. He wanted to kiss her, desperately. But he knew he
couldn’t. At least, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t risk breaking that one rule and
losing her.

       
“Do
you want my gum?” He offered it between his teeth. He had almost swallowed it
before tucking it between his jaw and back teeth.

       
“No.”
She grinned at him. Then her hands went searching near his head until she found
her glasses and put them back on.

       
“Frankie,
do you have taste buds? Like do they work?” he asked.

       
“What?”
she laughed. “What kind of question is that? Of course I have taste-buds and of
course they work.”

       
“You
didn’t even flinch, not a face, nothing. I mean I’ve never seen that before. I
stopped looking when I was a teenager. I didn’t like the guilt that came with
the sour face a girl made.” He wanted to know. She was amazing. Certainly she
was more skilled in acting than he would be if the roles were reversed. 
Granted, he loved the way Frankie tasted. He couldn’t get enough of her, but
sperm, totally different environment.

       
“I
like the way you taste, Jonas. No, that’s not usual. I don’t know, maybe it’s
your diet. It’s almost tasteless. Fluffy, it’s weird to be honest, but I like
it.” She riffled through the backpack and found the gum. She chewed on a piece
and said, “If we had a shower…”

       
“Well,
we
kinda
do. It’s down the hill in the campsite
below. Not a long walk, but we are far enough away for privacy.”

       
She
really looked like she was going to strangle him now.

***

       
“You
better get closer to me or the bears will get you,” he said as she slid into
the sleeping bag next to him.

       
Frankie
moved closer, her back aligned with his front. His chin propped on the top of
her head. His hands moved around her, up to cup her breasts. His thumbs stroked
over her erect nipples and teased.

       
She
admitted, “I don’t think I can sleep.”

       
“This
isn’t the right park for bears.”

       
She
could feel the press of his chest against her back with the sound of the deep
chuckle.

       
“Our
state flag has a bear on it, okay. I haven’t exactly been an outdoor girl. You
could have said something,” she sighed.

       
“What
fun would that be?” he asked.

       
She
let her body melt against him, her flesh warm from his touch. There was never
enough of him to have. He spoke, she responded. He touched, she burned. He
breathed, she ached. He existed, and she would never ever forget what he did to
her, and she would never, ever find another man to take his place. “Jonas.”

       
“Yeah?”

       
“Fuck
me.”

Two
weeks later…

       
“Just
tonight,” Jonas said. He was already dozing off to sleep. One night had turned
into another, then another. The two nights after the camping trip Frankie had
left to sleep in her own apartment he found reasons to call, e-mail, or text
her. She probably got less sleep than he had, and he didn’t get much sleep
those nights. Frankie was sort of like a superhero. By day she was a
professional personal assistant. He wanted for nothing. His affairs were in
immaculate order. He understood why several of his friends made the decision to
get assistants once they reached a certain point in their careers. By night,
she was a sex kitten extraordinaire, a goddess divine, a freak in the sheets,
and any other description given to indicate something there was no real way to
put a label on. He could not find the words to describe what she did to him in
bed. He could barely explain how he felt about what she did for him out of bed.
Everything was getting blurry and fast.

       
As
Frankie’s body shifted to her left side, as he now expected it to, he tried to
resist wrapping himself around her, as somehow he seemed to do in his sleep. In
the morning he had his first meeting with his agent and the studio head. The
box of scripts had uncovered a project worth working on, a trilogy, a story
with meat, no more kid stuff. He wanted to prove to himself as much as anyone
he could be more than a funny guy, he could act.

       
He
was not doing such a good job of acting like he didn’t give a shit whether the
woman next to him stayed or went. For her part, he might as well hand her that
statue downstairs on the mantle to keep. He couldn’t read between the lines.
She played both parts, equally interested in his professional career and his
body, but uninterested in his personal affairs, including the one he was having
with her.