Personal Assistant (8 page)

       
After
one night when the line was ready to be crossed and they decided not to, Shay
was determined to find Frankie a boyfriend, someone for her to play the game
with rather than just practice. DJ was on the football team. A shy guy, he
didn’t know what to do with aggressive girls. Once they fucked, it was all
over. Everywhere, every day they could, stolen moments in public places, the
back of a car, her bedroom, his, a closet, it didn’t matter. They graduated and
went off to two different colleges. They stole away every chance they could.
Trips home meant squeezing in every ounce of pleasure they could steal, hoping
it would be enough. It never was. He got injured, his football career came to
an abrupt halt, he joined the military, and the visits became fewer. No less
intense. Then one day a letter arrived at her parent’s address letting her know
he had met someone, but he would never forget her. She would never forget him.
Everything and everyone between that day and this had been inadequate
substitutes.

       
Jonas
had touched her and made her body ache in ways it hadn’t ached in years. It was
as though she was being touched for the first time, ever. She had burned for
DJ. Her blood boiled for Jonas. Maybe it was because she had fantasized about
him for several lonely years. Maybe it was because she had been deprived. Her
hand moved to the ache between her legs and flesh too sensitive to last long.
She just needed the release, the endorphins, and the sleep that would follow if
she did and that would elude her if she didn’t.

       
Her
head turned up to the spray of water, her fingers circled masterfully,
extracting the pulse, the throb, the wave of orgasm rushing to ease the hunger
that for too long had been starved. Frankie stifled a cry as the sensation hit
her, hard, fast.

       
She
wrapped in a luxurious bath towel and collapsed on the large comfortable bed.

       
She
awoke to a sloppy tongue and wet nose licking the bottom of the foot hanging
off the bed. She had meant to situate herself, but the sleep had taken her. She
giggled because it tickled. Her eyes popped open and reality crashed in.
Pulling her foot away from
Ish
she groaned as she sat
up in the bed. “How did you get in here?”

       
A
horrified thought struck her and she looked for the phone. It was nowhere
around her. She had left it in his room. “Shit, shit, shit.”

       
Frankie
didn’t bother to dress; she headed straight across the hall into the empty
bedroom and picked up the lost item. She cursed again as she noticed the time.
Wrapped in nothing but the towel she headed downstairs where her clothes were.
She heard unfamiliar voices and turned around to head back up the stairs. She
sat looking at
Ish
, who in turn looked at her with
his head tilted to one side, tongue hanging out, tail wagging, probably
wondering what game they were playing. She took a deep breath and dialed the
one contact she dreaded calling under these circumstances.

       
“I’m
awake,” Frankie said as she pulled the towel tighter.

       
His
laughter was entirely at her expense. He told her to go two doors down and grab
something from the closet. His sister had lived there until she married and
some of her things were still hanging in the closets.

       
She
traveled along the hallway with
Ish
on her heels. He
was following her everywhere, likely, still waiting for his walk. She opened
the door to a room that could easily belong to a young woman. Jonas didn’t do a
lot of redecorating from what she could tell.

       
“When
should I come downstairs and take
Ish
for his walk?
Can I sneak out the back or something? I don’t want to ruin your reputation.”

       
He
thought that was funny too. After assuring her she could come down at her
leisure the guests were on their way out, she hung up the phone.

       
She
sifted through the clothes and worried about the size of some and the price of
others. Finally, she found a sundress, something she could afford to replace if
it came to that. She went back to her room, put on her bra as she needed the
support to look decent. Her panties were ruined. She would have to go commando
until she could get home. Her hair was a disaster. She didn’t like to go to
sleep with wet hair. Not a ponytail holder to be found. She located a pencil in
the nightstand drawer and pulled her hair into a hasty bun secured by the
stick.

       
  Frankie
knew it shouldn’t feel like the walk of shame, but
Ish
whined and she could not help feel guilty for letting her sexual escapade get
in the way of her work.

       
At
the foot of the stairs she could smell breakfast. Coffee, bacon, she eagerly
moved forward.
Ish
left her side and ran ahead of
her.

       
“Traitor,”
she called after him.

       
Jonas
looked entirely too happy, too relaxed, too sexy in his jeans hanging low on
his hips. The name on his underwear was visible. She tried not to look at it.
“I am so sorry…”

       
He
cut her off with, “Breakfast first, apologies later. We’ve got a lot of work to
do today. They have arrived.”

       
He
practically buzzed electric with excitement.

       
“The scripts?”

       
“Yes.”
He bit his lip.
“The scripts.”

       
Frankie
looked at the box on the floor and started to bend over, thought better of it,
thought about squatting, worried about that view too.

       
“Are
you stretching or something? You keep moving one way then the next looking in
that box.” He chuckled.

       
“If
you must know, I’m not wearing underwear.” She put her hands on her hips and
stared at him.

       
“I
must always know when you are not wearing underwear. Make a note of it.” He
winked.

       
After
breakfast he let her go home and gather some things. She would be his for the
rest of the weekend. She insisted on taking
Ish
with
her and walking him. He didn’t bother to tell her he had already taken
Ish
for a run around the neighborhood. Maybe the hyper
puppy would be more obedient this time.

       
In
her absence he tried to concentrate. Impossible since every thought led him to
last night. She had completely rocked his world. Instead of waking with less
desire for her, he awoke with a raging hard on to the sound of the alarm on her
phone. He knew his appetite for the pleasures of the flesh could be a bit much
for most women. All women if he were honest with himself. He tried to work it
off by working out.

       
He
was in the weight room when they returned.
Ish
led
her right to him. He was suddenly aware of how much he was sweating. He had to
look a mess. He looked briefly at his reflection and tried to run a hand
through his hair. What a woman he had become. Worried about such trivial
matters, but his looks were part of what got him work. It seemed to be the only
thing his fans cared about. He frowned as she entered the doorway wondering for
a brief moment if that was the only reason she had done what she did last night.

       
Frankie
stepped into the doorway looking every bit a mess as he now suspected she would
after running with
Ish
. She was at least prepared
this time. She was in running shoes, shorts, and a tank top revealing the color
of the sports bra beneath. He wasn’t certain if she gasped for air because she
had chased
Ish
to the weight room or if she gasped
at, dare he think it, the sight of him.

       
“I
needed to burn some energy.” He could feel his chest rising and falling. He was
aware of himself, aware of her, aware of the electricity flowing between them.
Like magnets he could feel a pull towards her. His feet must have moved though
he didn’t remember walking. He started to raise his arm and lean against the
doorframe and thought better of it.

       
She
looked at him with those big brown eyes. “Where are your glasses?”

       
“Contacts.”

       
She
stared at him unblinking. He looked from her eyes to her full lips, those lips
that had surrounded his cock and sucked him dry only hours before. He clenched
his teeth. She wouldn’t let him kiss her. He needed to play it by her rules.
“It’s the weekend. You shouldn’t have to be here.”

       
“I
thought you wanted me here.” Her brow furrowed.

       
He
resisted the urge to reach up and smooth the crease with his finger. “I do. I
just…I mean I need you here, but I didn’t ask if you had other plans. Maybe
your friend, Shay wanted to grab a movie or lunch and I just
bogarted
your whole weekend in one text.”

       
“I
don’t mind. Besides, it’s my job to come when you call.” She seemed breathless.
He seemed to be closer still. He liked having this effect on women. He loved
having this effect on Frankie.

       
“But
you didn’t come, did you?” He had to cut to the chase. “Last night, you put my
ass to sleep and then suffered in silence. I saw you this morning. I felt terrible.
I didn’t treat you right last night and I think I should make it up to you.”

       
She
lowered her lashes and then licked her lips. She said, “I’m wet.”

       
“So
am I.” He smiled. “I’m drenched in sweat, Frankie but it isn’t stopping me from
wanting you. Is it stopping you?”

       
“No,
you look hot all sweaty and disheveled. I look a mess. I probably stink.” She
closed her eyes and shook her head.

       
He
could not resist, he leaned in and put his nose in her neck and inhaled the
scent of her.
Everything warm and womanly, her shampoo, her
soap, her body lotion, sweat, the base scent of all that was uniquely her.

       
“Okay,
so maybe I’m not as sweaty as you are,” she said as he pulled back.

       
He
feigned offense, “Are you saying I stink?”

       
“No,”
she said. She was serious and he was still playing.

       
“I
think you are.” He smiled at her. Having her around was going to be fun. “And I
think I’m going to squeeze you, Frankie and you are going to be covered in my
sweat, and stink just like me.”

       
She
took a step back. He took a step forward.

       
“Sir,”
she warned.

       
“Do
you know what it does to me when you call me that?” He didn’t care anymore. He
was going to say what he thought when he thought it.

       
“No.”
She shook her head as she took another step back into the hall.

       
“I’m
going to catch you, Frankie. You better run.” He watched her eyes grow wide as
she realized he really was about to grab her up in a big hug against his body.
He couldn’t think of anywhere else she should be than under his sweaty body, at
least it would give him a reason to take her into the shower with him.

       
“Jonas,”
she said as she half turned. The next time she said his name she squealed it as
she ran.

       
The
best part about chasing Frankie was the fact that she didn’t know where she was
going.
Ish
ran barking past her and she followed. She
ran right around a corner and into another room.
Ish
was already through the dog door and on his way to play in the doggie pool
Jonas had made just for him. This room led out to the pool. Jonas caught her,
lifted her right up and over his shoulder, and walked out the door into the
California sunshine.

       
“I
dropped the phone,” she said with more panic than he thought she should. He was
beginning to hate that damn phone and her attachment to it.

       
He
adjusted her body as he said, “Hold your breath,” right before stepping off the
side and taking them both into the pool.

       
He
pulled her up with him and they surfaced. She pushed her long auburn hair back
and blinked her eyes several times. “I think I lost a contact.”

       
“Oops.”
He moved closer to her. The cool water chilled his skin providing relief from
the heat and the workout.

       
She
groaned in frustration, but a smile she could not hide was there nonetheless.

       
“What
am I going to do with you?” She spoke with one eye closed and the other opened.

       
Feeling
entirely too fresh for his own good, Jonas took a breath and sank below the
water. He grabbed her and pulled her down with him. Under the water he pulled
her closer, she pushed at his chest, but he was not having it. His feet hit the
bottom of the pool. He bent his knees and pushed off sending them shooting
upward. She grabbed at him and held his shoulders until they surfaced again.

       
He
slid his fingers along her forehead pushing the wet hair to one side. He wanted
desperately to kiss her.

       
“We
have
work
to do,” she said. Both eyes closed. It would
be so easy for him to kiss her. This close he noticed a few freckles sprinkled
across her nose, the fine lines at the corner of her eyes, a small scar in her
eyebrow.

       
“How
many times do I have to dunk you before you lighten up?” His lips were almost
touching hers. He could feel the warmth of her breath, smell the spearmint.

       
He
could feel the beat of her heart thrumming strong, fast, and hard against his
chest. Her breasts were pushed up as a result of being held so tight against
him. He slid a hand down her back and around the lush curve of her ass down her
thigh until he effectively got her legs to wrap around his waist. As soon as he
could feel both of her thighs on his hips he took a deep breath and pulled her
with him as he sank into the water.

       
He
held his eyes open and took in the sight of her as the water surrounded her.
The long hair floating towards the surface as they sank further into the depths
of the pool. Her grip tightened as his feet hit the bottom again and he pushed
off to send them back into the sunshine, back into the air.

       
This
time she tilted her head as they surfaced and the hair slicked back on its own.
Both eyes opened.
Both squinting.

       
He
didn’t kiss her, but he did brush his lips briefly across hers. Such a fraction
of a touch electrified him. He was so shocked by the intensity of the feeling
he let her go. They pushed apart quickly, he was certain his expression matched
hers. He was stunned, at least for the first few moments. She touched her lips
with a hand. Her brows drew down. She was pissed.

       
“If
you do that again I’ll quit,” she said as breathless as she looked.

       
The
thought of her leaving him hit like a punch in the gut. He wanted to say
something, anything other than what blurted out of his mouth. “Let me get it
straight, I can put my dick in your mouth but not my tongue?”

       
Her
eyes widened then narrowed.
“Ass.”

       
The
one word hung there as she turned and started swimming towards the shallow end
of the pool and the stairs out.

       
“Frankie,”
he called. He groaned and turned to swim after her. She was pretty quick.

       
“I
hope my contacts clog up the filter,” she said as she walked up the stairs.

       
“Why?
You’ll be the one who has to deal with it if they do!” He was only half way to
the stairs.

       
“You…”
She pointed at him and he had to admit she was pretty cute all riled up. “I
didn’t think about that.”

       
He
dunked under the water so she didn’t see him laughing at her. She was already
pissed, he wasn’t helping the situation, but oddly he was still enjoying it.
Women didn’t get mad at him.
At least not to his face.
He was used to breakups coming via text, or worse, learning about it on
Twitter. He needed to give her some space. He floated around the pool a while,
talked to
Ish
when he came and sat next to the edge.
Ish
didn’t like the big pool, but he loved his doggie one.
Ish
headed back inside. After a while, he wondered how long
he would be able to stay there before she came back. A few laps and no Frankie.
A thought struck him as he was pulling himself up out of the water over the
side of the pool. She might have actually left him.

       
Soaking
wet he started for the door. He was about to open the door to the house
entrance when she pulled it open. She was as startled as he was and took a step
back.

       
She
had lunch and two scripts on a tray and a disgruntled expression on her face.
He took a step back and let her pass. She didn’t say anything and neither did
he
. He didn’t want to make it worse. She was there. For now,
it was all that mattered. He stepped into the room and grabbed a towel. Drying
off as he approached the table he tossed the towel on the back of a chair and
took a seat.

       
The
silence was eating at him. He picked at his lunch, a salad as he had requested
via the damn calendar on the phone that was linked to his personal phone and
calendar. The script sat untouched in front of him. She flipped through hers
reading efficiently as she ate a sandwich, only pausing to take a sip of her
drink. The silence continued. He would wait it out. Maybe it was his fault she
was angry, but she didn’t have to be so damn
mean
about it. He wanted to kiss her, was that so bad? The memory surfaced, the
slightest brush of her lips, the shot of adrenaline, lust, passion, something
he couldn’t quite put his finger on, all slipped through him and out of him at
once.

       
Frankie
giggled and he saw a window of opportunity open up. “What?”

       
She
kept reading and the giggle turned to a laugh. “Here,” she said and handed him
the script.

       
One
problem, he didn’t have his reading glasses. The only time he needed any
assistance with his vision was when reading something more than just a few
lines. He would have to read more than a few lines to find the lines she
thought were funny.

  “Can you read it to me?” he asked.
She looked up at him. She was wearing her glasses. She looked smart, sexy as
hell. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, her shoulders a little pink from
the small amount of time they had been exposed to the sun. He had to tell her.
“You may or may not know that I
kinda
need reading
glasses if I read more than a few lines at a time.”