The Agency (Billionaire Erotic Romance) (The Agency Series)

Copyright
© 2013 L.C.
Lockwood

This book is a work of
fiction. The
names, characters, places
and incidents
are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are
not be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual
events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be
reproduced, scanned or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written
permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in
critical articles and reviews.

Cover photo ©
Sex Mode
& Digestion
vs
Gary Alan
Holzauer

Designed and Edited by L.C. Lockwood

CHAPTER
1

“Are
you kidding me
?!
” I yelled into my phone as I paced
around the office. “What do you mean they aren’t casting her
?!
She’s been in three blockbuster movies, has a huge fan base and a fucking Oscar
for Christ’s sake! Are these people out of their minds?”

It
was way too early in the morning on a Monday to be dealing with clients, but I
had to do it. Being an agent to some of the top Hollywood talent required me to
not only be ferocious on the phone, but also wake up running. Phone calls would
come in at all times of the day, from directors and producers in France or
London or South Africa. They would constantly find new things with my actors to
complain about. This one is too blonde. That one is too skinny. She talks like
a disabled duck. I literally have heard it all, but somehow I managed and I
managed pretty damn well. So well in fact that I found myself as owner and lead
agent in one of the top agencies in America; The Elite Society Agency and
Talent Group, ESA for short.

I
wasn’t always this man-
eating,
take no prisoners type
of gal. I used to be naïve and innocent, coming out to Hollywood to try my hand
at a life of fame and fortune, bundled up with my own daddy issues and low
self-esteem. I thought being in front of the camera would help me break out of
my shell and find that inner, confident Angelina
Jolie
every woman thinks they have inside. Little did I know, I wasn’t cut out for
being in front of the
lens.
Instead, I soon found
myself behind the camera working as an assistant to famed agent Mason Cooper.
He managed talent that would earn him at least $500,000 per film, and he had a
few of those films every couple of months. He had exuberant amounts of money,
was extremely charming, good-looking and knew how to get exactly what he wanted
with dangerous precision. He was manipulative and I was very malleable.

In
fact, Mason Cooper was everything an agent needed to be. He was charming with a
smile that could melt a room and piercing blue eyes that could persuade anyone
to bend over backwards for him, mostly figuratively sometimes literally. He was
also cutthroat and would do anything for his clients to book that lead role,
because that just meant a new Ferrari in his driveway. Being his assistant was
brutal but also extremely rewarding and helped me learn the ins and outs of the
business from the best. It gave me really thick skin and made me realize that
representing actors and making huge amounts of money was what I was destined to
do. Under Mason’s keen eye and calculating ways, I shed my innocent, ingénue
persona and found myself becoming more precise with my words. I found ways to
manipulate myself out of situations and on to better opportunities. Working for
Mason taught me everything I needed and gave me confidence I had lacked for
most of my life. It also
lead
to some extremely hot
sex between us. Sure, I had to make at least a dozen coffee runs and clean
three BMWs every other day, but having one of the most powerful men in
Hollywood enter you with his stiff, oversized cock every evening and on most of
his lunch breaks was surreal. The orgasms would come one after another until I
would have to tell him to stop, otherwise I would have to crawl out of the
office.

But
of course, what's the first lesson they teach you ever? Don't sleep with the
boss. Then again, Hollywood never follows the rules, and Mason Cooper was no
exception. Having sex with him was my
choice,
it gave
me power over the regular people in this town by giving me power over one of
the most influential people in the town. At first, I was blinded by the glitz
and glamour. I was distracted by his perfect physique and his incredible sexual
prowess. But it wasn’t long before I found my true identity in the Hollywood
scene. I created my own character, and it was no longer a boss fucking his
assistant. I started to crave the control and realized that it was really me
who had the upper hand. Having him pound me on a regular basis was only a perk
and something I gave him, not the other way around.

I
realized I had grown ruthless when it came to my aspirations. It only took me
seven months until I got the hang of things and left my assistant job to take a
job as a full-fledged agent at a small boutique talent company. I still stayed
in touch with Mason, his connections were too good to lose and his cock was too
thick to forget about. But I kept it at that, always keeping my emotions
separate from my goals.

Another
year goes by and I save enough to open my own agency. By now, I had built an
impressive client roster, boasting A-list up and coming talent that was netting
me at least $100,000 a gig. I was finally making it and my own agency was
running on its feet in less than a month. People were suddenly saying my name
left and right. "Have you seen the clients that Blair Stone represents?
Literally, like the hottest guys in the business, and the girls are stunning.
They are not only gorgeous but they have incredible talent!"

This
success also brought on envy, especially from Mason. I was no longer the young,
naïve girl who he thought he was taking advantage of with no strings attached.
Instead, I was the powerful woman who started flipping the tables and stealing
his spotlight.

The
last straw between Mason and I was when about ten of his most successful
clients dropped him and came over to my agency. This sent him over the edge,
starting a smear campaign in hopes of ruining my reputation and bringing me
down; back to the little moldable girl he thought I was. Joke was on him though
when people began praising me even more. Mason Cooper was starting to just
collect dust on the shelf of Hollywood has-beens.

 I
loved hearing that amongst the industry. It meant that my clients were valuable
and it wasn't long until I started seeing the benefits. Bookings were through
the roof and my bank account was quickly climbing beyond what I had even
expected. Soon, everything was just the way I wanted it to be. I was the
happiest I had ever been, especially when I would drive into work and park my
brand new Bentley. Life was perfect, I felt as if nothing could bring me down.
And boy was I wrong.

CHAPTER
2

It
was April, and the weather was perfect as always. Not a cloud in the sky, with
a light breeze rolling through. The perfect day to forget about work and just
lay out by the pool. I called my assistant and told him to only roll over calls
that were absolutely urgent; I was talking about the type of “Holy Shit!!
Lindsay
Lohan
just ate ten crack brownies” type of
urgent. I then decided I hadn't gone to the Chateau
Marmont
in a few weeks and felt as though I needed some R&R, surrounded by only the
fellow rich and famous.

On
the way there, my phone started to ring. I checked the caller id and noticed a
number that seemed vaguely familiar; I just couldn't pinpoint exactly where it
was from.
My incompetent assistant
probably connected me to a call about how Pitt was given a ham sandwich instead
turkey.
And here I thought I could forget about work for a day.

"Hello,
you've reached Blair, who's this?"

"Blair,
wow I almost forgot what you sound like. It's
Mason
!
How's everything going?"

Mason?
As in Mason Cooper?
As in the man who helped me reach
the top of the entertainment industry food chain? I stopped talking to him when
he tried that whole ruining my reputation thing by writing on different
blogs
and going on the interview circuit, saying how I
slept my way to the top and had no real idea of what I was doing. His steely
blue eyes may have gotten him far, but they couldn't disprove the talent that I
kept in my roster. My name was written in gold and Hollywood wasn't changing it
that easily.
So why the fuck was he calling me?

"Mason.
It certainly has been a long time. Unfortunately, I still remember exactly what
your voice sounds like. I hear it about every other week on some new interview
show. What's next, Dr. Phil?"

"Ah
about that. Listen, I wanted to apologize. I acted like a jealous sixteen
year
old and I had no right. So I was thinking, maybe we
could meet up for lunch? I have an idea that might make you forget about
everything from before."

Interesting.
So here was Mason Cooper, my former boss, asking me to schedule him in for a
lunch date. My curiosity was getting the best of me. What could he possibly
think is a good enough idea to get me to meet with him? Something else was
telling me to meet with him too. It was more than curiosity. The thought of
being the one in power over him was, well it was honestly turning me on a
little.

"I
don't know. Being called a 'slut with the grasp of a two-tentacle octopus' on
Oprah makes me think that maybe I have better things to do than to see
you." I couldn't make it that easy.

"Yeah,
I really can't apologize enough for that. Honestly, you cost me a shit-ton of
money when everyone left me. I couldn't help but think that you were working
with them while you were my assistant. But regardless, even if we don't meet,
I'll give you props. If anything, you're an incredibly savvy business woman and
deserve your success."

There
was the Mason Cooper I knew. He was pouring the honey on thick. There was
definitely something he needed to tell me, and hearing him grovel a bit was
just making my body a little warmer. Why did I love power so much?

"Fine.
Meet me at the Chateau in 30 minutes."

And
with that I hung up. He was probably going to keep sweet-talking me but at that
point I was over it. I decided to give him at least fifteen minutes. If
whatever he had to say wasn't worth it, I'll just jump back in the pool and
work on my tan.

CHAPTER
3

The
Chateau was probably my favorite place to spend the time. It was the epitome of
class and had all the makings of paradise. It felt as though I was walking
straight onto a movie set, complete with an old English style castle, stunning
people and extraordinary art pieces. I grabbed my usual table and waited
amongst Hollywood's elite for Mason. I was probably five minutes early but knew
that he would be just on time. It was always the way he worked.

And
sure enough there he was. It was incredible how flawless he looked as he walked
towards me. He had on a plain navy blue V-neck that hugged all his very well
defined muscles. His jeans seemed tailor made to highlight his perfectly
rounded ass while the slight bulge of his cock was slightly distracting. His
hair was a rich brown and perfect balance of ruffled yet kept that only helped
highlight his deep blue eyes and picture-perfect smile. He legitimately seemed
as though he walked straight out of a roman history book, under the chapter
"Roman Gods, Beyond Perfect". This was going to be a hard
meeting.

"Wow,
you're still as stunning as always" Mason said in his smooth voice,
bending down to kiss my cheek. He left behind an intoxicating aroma of pure
masculinity.

"And
you look, well you look OK" I said.

I
didn’t want to stroke his ego anymore than what it already was. I knew I should
be pissed at him for trying to ruin my reputation, but I couldn’t help and have
flashbacks to the intense sexual passion we had shared. He may have turned out
to be an asshole, but just thinking about his hard member was already getting
me wet. I also noticed there was a hungry look in his eyes as he took me all
in. I needed to cut this meeting short before I jumped over the table and had
him eat me out right then and there.