Authors: Nikki Steele
I pulled off him slowly, and curled into his arms. “Is this what it’s going to be like every time?” I asked. Then suddenly I sat up, waves of guilt rushing through me. “Is there going to be a second time? Oh god. What have I done?”
He reached over to caress me but I pushed him away. “What have I done?” I repeated. “You gave me money, then I slept with you.”
He sat up too, moving behind me to pull me into his arms. I let him, it felt too good not to, flesh pressed to flesh.
“Miss Watson.” His voice was deep and husky, filled with unspoken needs. “I promised you money to help me buy a suit. I think you did that very well, and you did it before anything else happened.” He hugged me close, and I couldn’t help but respond to the warm embrace. “Trust me when I say money couldn’t have bought the experience we just had. The… the emotions you generated inside me.”
He reached over to pick up a discarded tie, lying on top of a ripped and ragged suit. “That being said, perhaps you would consider staying around for a while longer yet? It looks like I’m going to need another suit!”
Desperately needing money, Anna has taken up Jacob’s offer of short term work. Tall, dark and drop dead gorgeous, Anna knew Jacob was trouble the moment he stepped out of the change room.
Now, several days later, Anna is dealing with the aftermath. Her body and her head are both telling her different things. When she discovers his deepest, darkest secret, which one does she trust?
“So I still
don’t know what to call myself,” I said. “Personal assistant? Fashion advisor? Sex-with-benefits friend?”
The thought came unbidden, though I knew instinctively that our experience in the suit shop had been more than that.
We were in Jacob King’s office, a palatial affair that took up more space than somebody could ever need, on the top floor of one of the many sky rises that he apparently owned. Floor to ceiling windows lined one side of the office, a huge desk dominated most of one end.
He sighed. “You still want to do this? Work for me? Can’t you just, I don’t know, take my credit card and start enjoying life?”
I shook my head stubbornly.
He just didn’t get it.
Didn’t get that while money meant nothing to him, it meant everything to me. My house, my car, my life was on the line and I was desperate for cash. So desperate I worried I might do anything to dig myself out.
Meeting the man of my dreams – rich, charming, handsome – should have been a good thing, the answer to all my problems. But instead I was subjecting my actions to a long, constant analysis, searching out my motives, doubting my every move. I’d decided a long time ago that I would never sell my soul for cash, and now, faced with the prospect of overwhelming wealth, I was deathly afraid that was just what I was doing. “I need money, but I don’t need charity. Please.”
He walked over to his desk, a huge old thing that was paneled in oak all the way to the floor. “Well I guess I can see you sitting here, dressed in a short skirt… no panties…” He looked at me, an impish grin on his lips. “What do you think, personal sex slave? I promise it would be worth the money.”
I rolled my eyes. “Firstly, you wouldn’t see anything because you’ve got better taste than to get a desk that shows the legs of anyone that sits at it. Dressing
would be useless.”
“So I’ll get a new desk,” he said immediately.
I’m not a gold digger. I want to work for my money and not,” I shot him a look, “
in that way
He sat on his desk, then reached over and pulled me into his lap. “I get it,” he said, eyes warm. “I really do. It’s one of the reasons I lo...” he coughed, “like you.”
He paused, as if searching for the right words. “It’s just this, this whirlwind that’s swept us both up. I want to take care of you – look after you. It pains me to see you troubled when I can do something about your needs so easily!”
Was it possible to fall in love with someone this quickly? I ran a finger down his strong, muscular arm. “You do take care of my needs, trust me.”
His body responded immediately to my touch. “Maybe I could take care of them right now, on this desk,” he whispered.
I shivered as his breath sent currents of electricity shooting through my body. If I closed my eyes I could see him, naked before me. Those perfect abs. The solid, broad pecs. The thick, toned arms. My mouth was suddenly dry, thirsty for his kiss.
I jumped back with a force of will I hadn’t known I possessed. “You have a meeting.”
I shook my head. “You can’t. You said it was important.”
He ran his hands through his hair again. “You’re right. Much as I hate to admit it, it is.”
“What’s it about?” I asked curiously.
He stood up, rounding his desk to start gathering paperwork. “Just a merger. A company I’m buying out. It’s taken six months to work out the details, but it will turn a tidy profit if I do it right.”
I walked round to stand behind him, placing my chin on his shoulder. “How much are you offering to buy it for, Mr. Big Shot? Want me to chip in?”
“$20 Million, give or take.”
I sucked in a breath, impressed. “That sure as hell is some purchase! What are you buying, gold mines?”
He laughed. “Not quite. They’re a fashion label – they design their own clothing and push it through a series of retail outlets. There’s some deficiencies I’ll need to deal with, but with my production lines and their distribution network, I should be able to spin it into something two or three times the current P/E ratio.”
Now my interest was really peaked. “I used to work in a fashion house before I got laid off,” I said. “Maybe I know the company. Who are they?”
He chuckled. “No wonder you were so good at picking out that suit, I still get comments on it.” He flicked through the papers on his desk. “Here it is. The parent company is Etroc Holdings, but the fashion house is…”
“Mon Cheraise,” I said suddenly.
He looked up. “How did you know? Do you have friends there?”
I could feel the tears welling even as I stepped backwards. “I used to work there,” I said, my whole world suddenly falling apart. “Until I was fired by the new owner.”
?” I asked viciously. I was sitting on the bus angry as all hell. Jacob had been trying to call for the last 20 minutes, ringing incessantly, and I’d finally decided to answer. “Do you even care that you’re the reason I can’t pay my bills?”
I cut him off, too angry to listen. “How dare you! What is this, your sick idea of a joke? Make a woman destitute and then swoop in and
while she’s low?” Several passengers turned toward me, but I didn’t care.
Have you been stalking me?
” I demanded, another thought suddenly hitting me. I cut him off again. “How long have you known?”
“Anna. Please, listen to me.”
“What.” I swear frost was suddenly crackling up the window.
“Anna, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. It wasn’t my fault. Whatever your job is, I’ll get it back. Pay you double.”
“Not everything can be solved with money, Jacob King.”
I heard a sigh, and imagined him running his hands through his hair. That sexy, mussed up… no, I wouldn’t go down that line of thought. I was too furious. “I’m sorry
. I thought I knew you.” Then quieter, a whisper – “I thought we had something.”
“Anna, wait. We’ll fix this. Whatever it takes, however much it costs.”
For some reason, the casual way he threw money around only made me more angry. “You just don’t get it, do you?” I spat. “It’s not always about the money. When you bought the company, did you once stop to think about the lives of the people you fired? Did you think that maybe they had families? That they had houses and mortgages and cars and bills to pay? No! All you thought about was the money.”
“Anna. All those things you just mentioned, I didn’t...”
I didn’t need to hear a hollow apology. “Damn right you didn’t think! That’s the problem with money. It makes you forget who you really are. I knew I should never have taken that job with you!”
I sucked in a deep breath, then blew it out hard, steadying myself. “No. I’m sorry Jacob. It’s over.”
I’d walked straight
off the bus, crying, changed into my oldest, comfiest pajamas, and hadn’t left the house since, except for regular runs to get Ben & Jerry’s.
The poor corner store attendant hadn’t known what to do the first time I’d first walked in with red splotchy face and streaked makeup. Now when I entered he just went to the freezer and pulled out two tubs of Chunky Monkey and one of Cherry Garcia.
Every time he did it I burst into tears all over again. He was so sweet.
Why couldn’t Jacob be like that?
I’d thought I’d loved him. I really had. It had been such a short time, but a tornado only took minutes to do lasting damage. How could he betray me like that? How could I have been so naïve?
In Jacob King’s defense, it was obvious he felt sorry now. Every hour, on the hour, someone had knocked on my door. I never answered, but when they left there were always 12 long stemmed roses waiting for me on the doorstep. The bin was full to overflowing.
He had tried to call too – multiple times. But it was too late. The damage had been done, and there was nothing he or anyone else could say to change that. Apart from that first, heart breaking conversation on the bus I hadn’t spoken to him again. Eventually, I’d turned the phone off.
This morning, the day after
, I woke up refreshed; happy with the world until I realized why I was lying on the couch, empty ice cream buckets at my feet and a
500 Days of Summer
DVD on repeat in front of me. I sighed; I was going to need more Chunky Monkey.
I grabbed my keys, patted down my hair and squinting against anticipated sunlight, opened the door.
Then I shut it again.
Then I opened it very, very slowly, and peaked outside.
The first thing that hit me was red; a sea of red that covered the steps, the front yard, the fence and the footpath – in some areas it had spilled out onto the road. The next thing that hit me was the smell – like walking through the most beautiful garden on a hot summer’s day. I shook my head, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Were they roses? Good god! How many of them were there? There must be thousands! My heart started beating faster and a funny feeling began to spread from the pit of my stomach. He’d done all this for me!
I closed the door against the sight, squashing my emotions ruthlessly, resting my head against the frame.
This wasn’t going to happen.
He wasn’t going to do this to me again. It didn’t matter that I wanted him so badly it hurt. It didn’t matter that my time with him had been the happiest I’d ever had. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t live without him.
He’d used me – purchased my services when he’d purchased my company, bought me for lunch and a kind word; screwed me after screwing me over.
I lifted my head. I needed to see him. Tell him it was over. Tell him to stop with the nonsense and let me get on with my life.
However long that might take.
I re-locked the door then strode toward the shower with a purpose. I was going to visit Jacob King. I was going to make him stop this. And I was going to do my hair, put on fresh makeup, squeeze myself into my shortest skirt and lowest cut halterneck top, and make him realize what he was losing.
I’d walked with
purpose into the elevator, but I left far less confident. That long ride up had given me too much time to think. What was I doing? This man had ruined my life!
He’d also helped me live it.
He’d used me!
I’d wanted him to.
I hated this man.
I didn’t want to
“Mr. King will see you now.” The receptionist buzzed me straight in. I smoothed down my skirt, feeling suddenly exposed. This was it – I was going to be strong. I wasn’t going to cry. I could resist him.
“Anna?” Jacob King was out of his chair and rushing toward me as soon as I stepped through the door. “I’ve been so worried!”
I backed away. “Don’t touch me,” I said. “I’m only here because you don’t seem to get the message. Leave me alone. It’s over.”
“Anna, you don’t understand. You need to let me explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain. You bought my company, had me fired, waited until I was desperate and then used me.”
“You’ve got it wrong Anna.”
“Oh, you didn’t get me fired? You didn’t sleep with me?”
His lips quirked. “Well, I don’t deny that last part. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. Or be able to put on a suit again without thinking of you.”
I looked at him. Sexy three day stubble above a dark bespoke suit. No tie – just a crisp white shirt open at the collar. “Did you think about me this morning?” I said softly.
“I thought about you,” I said quietly.
He rushed forward. “Oh Anna. Please, let me explain.” He wrapped strong arms around me, and just for one moment I let myself get lost on his broad chest, in his scent.
I pushed myself away sadly. “There’s nothing you can say, Jacob King. Nothing that can make me believe we have a future after what you did.”
His hands went to his hair. An unconscious gesture that even now, heartbroken, stirred something within me. “You’re right. There is nothing I can say,” he said.
Was he finally going to admit it?
“Anna, I know you think I’ve done you wrong, and it seems there is nothing I can say that will fix this. So before you leave, I’m wondering if you might do me a favor. For old time’s sake.”
I looked at him, my eyes narrowed. “What?” Did he want a pity fuck? Did he think I was that sort of girl? I looked at him, a suited Adonis standing before me.
Part of me wished I was.
He picked up his phone and dialed a number, waiting for a voice to answer. “Yes, I have her here,” he said, looking at me. Then he passed the phone. “Would you mind?”
Despite myself, I was curious.
Who could it be?
They’d obviously been expecting the call.
I took the phone. “Hello?”
“Anna Louise Watson?”
“Paul Drake, of DSC.”
“Drake, Secher and Clarke. We’re lawyers, Miss Watson.”
He was going to hit me with a non-disclosure agreement!
“We’re handling the buyout for Etroc Holdings. I believe you used to work for them?”
My pre-prepared retort was replaced with an uncertain “Yes?”
Where was this going?
“We are in the final stages of documentation, Miss Watson, and the purchase is due to settle later today. However Mr. King has recently highlighted issues of concern with the merger relating to unfair dismissals pre-purchase. We are in the process of reviewing Etroc’s accounts, but have been requested…”
My mind focused on the words
. Then it zipped forward to the next two.
“But I thought he had already bought the company?” I said, interrupting.
“No Miss Watson, that’s not how these things work. Documentation takes considerable time. Mr. King won’t have any official weight within the company until end of day, all things going well.”
“Regardless, that’s not what this phone call is about.”
“Mr. King has made a rather unusual request, at the… ah…
, as they say.” The voice sounded as if it had just swallowed something bitter. “Mr. King has requested that the final purchase be subject to your approval.”
“Oh…” I was an Mp3 on repeat, too stunned to say anything else.
“Yes,” the voice said, taking my statement as some sort of agreement of disbelief. “The future of a $20 Million buyout is subject to the whims of an unknown.
unorthodox.” Then the voice sighed. “But, what Mr. King want’s, he gets. So may we?”
“What?” I’d progressed onto four letter words, though heavens knew there were better ones to describe the situation right now.
“May we proceed?” the voice repeated. “With the sale?
“Um…” for the first time I looked at Jacob, instead of my feet. He was looking at me, hopeful. When his eyes met mine he raised an eyebrow, as if silently asking what my answer would be.
“I… I don’t know, I’m sorry. This is all just so much to think about.”
The voice hesitated. “The deal is due to settle shortly. Please don’t take too long, Miss Watson. Mr. King has my number; please call me back when you have an answer.”
The phone hung up with a click, and suddenly I didn’t know what to think, where to look. I turned to the window, walking to it, looking out.
“Is that true Jacob?” I asked. “What he said?”
“You don’t own my company yet?”
“Not until this afternoon,” he said softly. I could hear him getting closer.
Tears sprung to my eyes.
I promised myself I wasn’t going to cry again!
“But when I was let go. They said it was because of the buyout.”
“Bad managers use that excuse all the time Anna, it keeps the blame off them.” His voice hardened. “If I end up buying this company – we end up buying this company – there will be some changes.”
“Did you really mean it? About giving me that choice?”
I sensed his body behind me. “Yes.” His mouth nuzzled into the crook of my neck, kissing it tenderly.
It sent shivers down my spine, and I tried to focus. “I… $20 Million. You’d really risk that? For me?”
“Miss Watson, some things are more important than money.”
I wanted to believe him. I really did.
But $20 Million!
“What… what do you want to do?”
“You,” he answered simply.
“No, about the company. I… it’s too much responsibility.”
His body separated from mine, then a moment later I felt his hands on my shoulders, turning me around. “I trust you,” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “This isn’t about the sex.”
Then he paused, a twinkle in his own. “Well ok, it’s a little about the sex. I’m a guy after all, and what we’ve got is mind blowing.”
He turned serious once more. “But it’s more than that.
I trust you
. More times than I can count now I’ve seen you
the money in preference for what’s right. When I found out what your company had done to its employees… to you… well, I could think of no better person to make it right.”
I looked at him, helpless. “But what do I do?”
“It’s your choice,” he said gently. “You can say no, and the buyout will stop right here. Things will go back to the way they were, though I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do anything about your job, or if you’d want me to.” He paused, and my mind flashed through the possibilities of what he was saying.
The way they were.
“Or,” he continued, “You can say yes. Together we can try to fix what’s broken; make it better.” He took me in his arms again. “It’s your decision. Either way, I just hope you’ll stay.”
I looked up at him. “You mean that? You really mean that?”
He answered with a kiss, swift and sudden, that knocked me off my feet and back against the glass. And suddenly I knew exactly what I wanted. What I’d wanted the whole time. I kissed him deeply back. Our mouths locked together, and suddenly we were stumbling to his desk.
He cleared it with a sweep of his hand, then lifted me in his strong arms and laid me gently on top. “Remember what happened last time you were on a desk?”
I was breathless, but nodded. “The tailors.”
“I’ve been dreaming about it. Your body.” He leant over me, lips meeting mine once more, before leaving to take an earlobe in the most delicious of sensations. “Your sweet taste,” he whispered.
I closed my eyes as his lips trailed down; over a shoulder, along the arm, until it was at its extremities. They closed over my fingers, sucking gently, and I almost came right then and there, shivers breaking out all over my body.
“Mr. King, what are you doing to me?” I said, my voice an echo of a conversation from another time.
“Nothing you aren’t already doing to me.” His mouth chose one finger, then slid back down, suckling the knuckles as his tongue caressed my skin. Then his head moved south, finger still locked between soft lips, riding my hand like an elevator as both glided toward my most private of parts. His lips let me go when I reached my stomach, and I lay there, helpless in my excitement, while he continued down.
His lips reached my knees, kissing the bare flesh that showed between them and the skirt above, then moved back up. His teeth seized my clothing and dragged it slowly across my skin. I could feel the material trailing upwards, slowly. It was tantalizing. Paralyzing.
Hot breath blew on my panties, then for the first time I felt his hands upon my body. They reached for the lacy material and ripped them savagely down my legs. The contrast between the gentle breaths and the rough hands causing a shiver of fear to trickle pleasurably through me. His head buried between my legs and my eyes rolled as his tongue began to flick out gently, delicately, heavenly. This was what I’d missed. This was what I wanted. Waves of pleasure began to build faster than I might have thought possible.
Oh my god.
I was going to come, and it hadn’t even been two minutes! I could feel the wave building under his savage onslaught, cresting in all its foamy goodness until soon it must come crashing down upon my body, washing from my hips outwards in all directions.
Suddenly, his phone rang, sitting on the table beside me.
My eyes refocused. Wow. Moment killer. “Unh… do you have to get that?”
A hand reached up and hit the phone repeatedly until it silenced. It started ringing again, almost immediately. I picked it up.
Paul Drake, DSC.
“You should probably get it. It’s Paul Drake,” I said.
Jacob popped up, trailing kisses up my body until he reached my ear. “I’m pretty sure it’s for you,” he whispered. He started trailing kisses back down my body again, and I
he had an evil grin on his face. “Better get it.”
I swatted at him, missing. The phone cut out, then started ringing again immediately after. In a panic, I hit answer.
…” Jacob’s mouth had reached that place between my legs; my eyes went briefly crossed.
“Miss Watson?” came Paul Drake’s voice from the other end of the line.
“Yes?” The last part of the word ended in a squeak.
“Are you ok Miss Watson?”
“Of course Mr… um… ah…”
Ooh, that felt gooood.
Short sentences Anna. Stick to short sentences.
“Only, it took three calls to answer.”
Jacob dragged his tongue slowly up my opening, tickling the pearl at the top, then he took it in his mouth.
I bit my lip to keep from squealing, then with a supreme force of will focused on the question. “Oh, um sorry. Mr. King is indisposed. It took a… while… to find his phone.” The pitch was all over the place, but at least the sentence made sense.
Now he was doing something with his fingers too, tongue still locked over me, alternately sucking and licking. The wave was cresting again; if anything, higher than before. “I don’t have long, Mr. Drake,” I managed. “How can I help you?”
Paul Drake cleared his throat, and I struggled to concentrate as the current of feelings Jacob was generating started to swirl out into my body, priming it for a fall so deep that I might not make sense after.
“Well, it’s how can I help you, Miss Watson…”he began.
It was no use. I heard snatches – “contract,” and “subsidiary,” and “reconciliation of accounts,” but each time my mind was dragged back by the raw feelings of pleasure being created in waves between my legs.
Below, I could feel fingers holding my lips apart, creating access for his tongue. But the fingers were doing more than that, too. They were caressing my edges tenderly, generating little offshoots of pleasure that shot toward the main maelstrom, mixing with it, extending it. It felt like my entire body was a ball of light, or perhaps an ocean of pleasure.