Can't Buy My Love: Billionaire and Virgin Romance Collection

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Can't Buy My Love: Billionaire and Virgin Romance Collection Page 111

by Jamie Knight


  “Yeah, I can see why you like this one,” Douchey Boss said to Hot Boss, pursing his lips again while he nodded his approval at me.

  He was looking me up and down again, and I could tell he didn’t just mean what he was saying in a professional way. He was openly flirting with me in a way that Hot Boss had not been.

  But I like Hot Boss’ subtle style much better. It was as if he was burning a hole through my clothes with his eyes, rather than saying a bunch of obvious stuff.

  “Go ahead,” Douchey Boss said to Hot Boss, shrugging and turning to walk out of the office as if he had better things to do with his important time than hang out with us for a second longer. “Hire her.”

  I looked at Hot Boss, almost not believing it was true.

  Do I have this job? Working for this super hot boss?

  “Miss Herrera, you have a job,” Hot Boss said. “If you want it, that is, of course. Can you start next week?”

  Was he kidding?

  If I wanted it?

  Could I start next week?

  Of course I wanted it!

  And I’d start tomorrow if he wanted me to.

  Heck, I’d start this minute.

  “Yes,” I said, very confidently, with an air that would make my mother proud. “I can.”

  She always told me I wasn’t confident enough. Of course, it was easy to be confident when I had just gotten the job. Still, though, I was nearly as proud of myself right now as I knew she would be.

  Thinking about my mom made me realize that I would have to arrange some in-home care for her now. She still needed a nurse to come give her her medicine and food a couple times a day – to help her get dressed, or bathe her.

  I felt a pang of guilt, as if I should be the one doing these things. But I knew they could be easily done by an in-home caretaker that the hospital provided. And I needed to work. I needed money for us.

  And I need to not think of my boss as hot. I need to stay focused on this awesome job I just landed.

  Ashton Smith- that was his name. It was all coming back to me now.

  As I shook his hand and thanked him, he held onto it for a moment longer than I anticipated. But not in a creepy way like Douchey Boss. He did it in a stern, bold way, and as he did it, he said, “I look forward to seeing you on Monday morning.”

  And there went my panties, getting dripping wet again.

  Chapter 3 - Ashton

  Damn it.

  As my limo took me from my office in downtown Manhattan to my condo on the upper East Side, I couldn’t stop thinking, Why did that applicant have to be hot and perfectly suited for this job?

  From the moment I set eyes on Maria Herrera and her hot, curvy body, I wanted to date her, not hire her. And when I say date, let’s just take it for granted that I didn’t fucking do commitment. Relationships were for pussies who liked to be tied down. So, what I really meant was that I wanted to fuck her, of course.

  It would have been preferable to have met her on some random Tinder date or perhaps in some café while I was out for a dry-cleaning run. Not that I really did those myself, of course.

  I’d built this company up to where I was a billionaire, and so I had people to do my dry-cleaning runs for me. In fact, there was a company that came to the office and offered pick up and delivery service that I usually used.

  It had been so long since I’d been on a real date that I’d forgotten where people usually meet. But you get my drift. Maybe I’d be at some club while on some work retreat and I’d meet Maria while we were both a bit tipsy and I’d take her to my suite at the resort and bang her brains out.

  Instead, she had to be sitting across from me, reciting all the ways she could perfectly help out my company. She was the ideal candidate for the job. And now I was going to have to hire her, which meant resisting my very strong urge to fuck her.

  Because that was a big no-no. We just had a firm-wide meeting where human resources came in and talked to us about how partners weren’t supposed to date subordinates. It was necessitated by the fact that Bob, our database security expert, was sleeping with Shay, his assistant.

  Ironically, Shay didn’t even mind. She liked sleeping with Bob. But when it was discovered, by a janitor who was cleaning the offices late at night when they were getting it on in Bob’s office – a janitor who apparently has nothing better to do than snitch to upper management about things that don’t concern him – human resources was not happy.

  At the meeting, they explained that the only way that a superior and subordinate can sleep together is if they are married or engaged or if they sign a waiver in which the subordinate attests that it is consensual. But the last option is not looked favorably upon because it still subjects our company to liability, apparently.

  Therefore, even though Shay happily signed the waiver, Bob would not be promoted any time soon, and I’d be surprised if he gets to stay on with McKenzie Tech. Those things were out of my control, ever since we went public with our stock options and a board of directors decided these things.

  I was very happy that I wasn’t Bob, though. After the meeting, Kathy Comstock, a partner in our cloud technology division, approached me and giggled her annoying laugh and said, “Well, it’s a good thing this doesn’t affect us. Two partners can still sleep together all they want.”

  I did my best not to roll my eyes at her, but I probably failed. I wanted to tell her she should respect authority – I wasn’t her equal partner, but instead, I was a founding member of the original company that merged into the conglomerate that McKenzie Tech had now become. But on paper, she and I were actually equal partners, since we were both partners.

  Also, I had no interest in dating her, but she seemed to insist that I do – almost like reverse sexual harassment.

  Score one for gender equality in the workplace, I guess.

  As the driver dropped me off, I thanked him and told him I’d see him tomorrow.

  “Tomorrow is Saturday, sir,” he said.

  “Oh yes,” I answered. “Your day off. Enjoy it. Sorry about that.”

  I didn’t really take days off, so all the different days of the week tended to blur together for me. I had to remember that other people had lives outside of work and that I should, too – but it was a difficult thing for me to do.

  I entered my condo and started to realize that nothing forbade me from thinking about fucking Maria, even though the company rules said I couldn’t actually do it, or at least that it was frowned upon. They didn’t control my brain, though. Or my cock.

  So, as soon as I was through the doors of my lavish condo, I sat down on the couch and did what I wanted with my own brain and cock. And what I wanted to do was jerk off while thinking about innocent and super sweet Maria, who looked at me like she wanted me to tear her clothes off.

  She might have looked like an innocent and sweet church girl, I thought, as I wrapped my hand around my large, hard cock, but she sure seemed to like that I’m a devil.

  I stroke myself as I thought about what it would be like if there was a job inspection required as part of the interview. I would bend her over and pull her skirt up, so I could see what her plump little ass looked like underneath it.

  I’d spank it, and she’d squeal. Then I’d cup one of her ass cheeks in my hand for a minute, just to tease her.

  Coming around to the front of her, I’d unbutton her prim and proper shirt and take her large tits out of their bra. I’d play with her nipples and then put my cock in between them.

  She’d start to protest because she wants to pretend to be a good little girl, but I’d reach around to smack her ass while asking her, “Don’t you want to see what my cock feels like?”

  “Yes, sir,” she’d say, and I’d tell her, “Well, you have to taste it first.”

  She’d nod her head obediently and open her mouth wide, so I could stick my cock all the way inside it. She’d gag a bit, but she’d take it all like a champ, letting me cram m
yself down her throat.

  Then I wouldn’t be able to take it much longer, so I’d go back behind her and spread her little pussy open with my fingers.

  “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” I’d ask her, but I already knew she was.

  I could sense it. She had a naïve innocence about her, but an eager inner slut just waiting for me to bring out. I could tell.

  “Yes, sir,” she’d tell me, breathing heavily as I rubbed her clit.

  “Well, you’re certainly nice and wet for me,” I’d tell her. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” she’d say, sighing contently. “More ready than I’ve ever been for anything.”

  So, I’d push myself in, gently at first, and when she gasped with pain, I’d hold her breasts and play with them and tell her it would all feel really good very soon.

  “Okay,” she’d agree, and then she’d sigh again and say, “It’s already starting to feel pretty good.”

  “Good girl,” I’d tell her, pushing myself the rest of the way in and going a little bit harder and faster.

  “Mmmm,” she’d moan, wriggling around on my cock, happy I was inside her and had popped her sweet little cherry.

  “You like that, don’t you, you naughty girl?” I’d ask her, spanking her ass a little bit.

  “Yes,” she’d gasp, holding onto the chair in front of her and letting the waves of pleasure wash over her. “Oh yes. I’m going to cum.”

  “Good,” I’d say, thrusting myself inside her even more as I felt my cock pulse and throb.

  Even in my fantasy, I was overcome by her beauty and I couldn’t hold back any longer.

  “Because I’m about to cum too.”

  Since it was fantasy, I wasn’t wearing a condom, and I could feel the very warm, wet inside walls of her pussy as I released my load inside her. She moaned my name as we came together and I filled her up with my seed, claiming her not just as my new employee but also as the woman whose virginity I just took.

  I’d pull out and see my creampie inside her, dripping down her full thighs and onto her pretty high heels. Satisfied, I’d sit down in the chair and she’d sit down on my lap and I’d hold onto her, tight.

  In real life, I came, feeling a release that felt good, but nowhere near as amazing as I bet the real thing with Maria would feel. I sighed, and wished it was more than a fantasy, even though I knew that it couldn’t be.

  And only then did it hit me.

  What the fuck was with me holding her at the end?

  That didn’t happen with any woman and me in real life. And it certainly never happened in my fantasy.

  What the fuck did this girl do to my head – and my heart – in the twenty minutes or so that she was in my office?

  Chapter 4 - Maria

  At 8:30 on Monday morning on the dot, I was in my chair, trying to boot up the computer in my office. I got here on time, even though the subway ride from the Bronx and the following walk from the subway station to the office takes over an hour and even though I had never been a morning person.

  I was determined to impress anyone and everyone at my new job. The first step, though, was figuring out how this sleek, modern looking machine booted up.

  I was used to my very old laptop, which I broke once when it fell off the couch while I was doing work, and which I taped back together using duct tape. New-fangled desktops such as this one confused me. I didn’t even know where the CPU was, let alone the power button.

  “Need some help there, sweetheart?” I heard a lecherous voice say from behind me.

  I stood up and spun around quickly, to find Douchey Boss, aka Ben Winters, leering at my ass.

  “No thanks,” I said back, in what I hoped was a sickly sweet manner: sweet enough that it wouldn’t get me in trouble, but sick enough that he’d take a hint.

  “The monitor has everything it needs to be a fully functioning computer,” he said, definitely not taking the hint. “Here, I’ll show you.”

  As he approached me, I could have sworn that he purposefully brushed himself up against me in a completely unnecessary way. He reached down and hit a button on the back of the monitor.

  “There ya go,” he announced, as the screen lit up.

  I could have kicked myself for not thinking to check the back. But I hadn’t known that a visit from Douchey Boss was in order if I didn’t figure out how to turn it on fast enough.

  “Now it’s your turn to do me next. A favor, that is.”

  His breath reeked of alcohol, even this early in the morning. Perhaps it was still lingering from last night.

  “Ha,” I said, as he laughed out loud at his own not-funny joke.

  “Do you wanna know what it is?” he asked.

  “What what is?” I repeated, looking back at the computer, thinking that he was talking about showing me something else on it.

  “What the favor is, that you can do for me?”

  “No,” I said resolutely.

  I knew it couldn’t be anything good.

  “I want you to come to Splendid with me after work,” he said, citing the bar in the hotel lobby of the same building that our offices were in. “Have a happy hour drink. Let me know all about the life and times of my newest employee, Miss Maria Herrera.”

  “No thank you,” I quickly said.

  I would rather have spent all day staring at the monitor I hadn’t known was also a computer, trying to get it to work, than to have to go to these lengths to repay his “favor” of turning it on.

  “You can’t just turn me down like that,” he said, whining like a petulant child. “I’m your fucking boss.”

  “Yes, actually, I can,” I told him, glad for the human resources meetings I’d been forced to attend at my last job. They’d been boring, but at least I’d learned my rights. “And you can’t harass me like this.”

  Darn it.

  This was not how I had been hoping my first day of work would go. But I didn’t want to go for drinks with him and I knew he couldn’t make me. If I had to go lodge a complaint and be known as a trouble maker on my first day, so be it, even though I really didn’t want to.

  “You little bitch,” Douchey Boss huffed, but he left my office, anyway, and so I didn’t care what he called me.

  I had a lot of work to get started on today, and I didn’t need him in here slowing me down by trying to hit on me and having to rebuke his advances.

  As he pushed his way out of my office, I noticed that someone was standing just outside of it. A woman. A very tall, nearly giant looking woman.

  Oh, good, I think. A possible witness, maybe. If I need one.

  I was pretty sure she had watched the scene that had just transpired in my office, but as soon as Douchey Boss left and I tried to go out into the hallway to talk to her, she started scurrying off.

  “Excuse me,” I said, clearing my throat.

  She looked back at me rather reluctantly, as if she really didn’t want to talk to me.

  “Yes, excuse me,” I said again, in case she had thought I meant someone else— although I’m not sure who she could have thought I meant, since we were the only two in the hallway.

  “What do you want?” she asked, slowing down her steps only slightly.

  Talk about a warm welcome, I thought.

  “I’m Maria,” I told her, holding out my hand to shake hers.

  “Sloane Keeley. Head of accounts,” she said, not bothering with the handshake.

  “I just wanted to ask if you heard what Mr. Winters was saying in my office?” I asked her. “It was some really egregious stuff.”

  “Look, new girl,” she hissed under her breath, without answering my question. “Let me tell you from past experience an old rule that even new girls learn real quick around here. It’s the Golden Rule, in fact.”

  “The Golden Rule?”

  I blinked, wondering if she was going to tell me that our bosses should treat us the way they’d like to be treated, or some
silly crap like that.

  “Yeah, except it’s the one that’s been updated for the modern office work environment. And it’s ‘he who has the gold makes the rules.’ You understand?”

  “I guess,” I said, feeling crestfallen.

  She nearly rolled her eyes at me but stopped mid-way, as if I wasn’t even worth that much of an effort. Then she hurried off down the hall again, without saying another word.

  Why does everyone have to be so bitchy around here? I wondered. The least she could have done is offered me a soothing word, since she’d clearly heard the way that asshole treated me in my office.

  I thought about what my mom would have said, back when she was physically and mentally stronger.

  “Maria, don’t expect anyone else in this big bad world to help you out, mija. No one really cares about you except Jesus and your mama, so rely on us and yourself and you’ll be fine.”

  It wasn’t the most uplifting advice- it was pretty much on par with Sloane’s- but I guessed that if I had listened to it, I wouldn’t have found myself disappointed by the fact that a fellow female office worker didn’t care to help me out when it came to sexual harassment by my boss.

  I returned to my office, feeling rather deflated. But I closed and locked it this time and told myself not to answer it no matter what. Clearly it was every woman for herself around here, and who knew what other old creepy guys lurked in the wings, ready to take advantage of the “new girl,” as Sloane had called me.

  I hadn’t had any official training for this job yet, and I wasn’t sure if I was going to get any. Clearly the firm who hired me had just merged with a new one, and nothing seemed very organized. It appeared that the reason they had hired me was to help them out with that.

  So, I began randomly clicking on folders and familiarizing myself with how their documents were organized. There was one called “Training Resources” and I spent a good while looking over it, paying particular attention to parts that had to do with file organization.

  There was only a little bit about that in there, and there were a lot of phrases such as “please use discretion,” “use your best judgement,” and “be innovative to solve problems,” which I took to mean, “we have no idea what the fuck we’re doing so please feel free to step in and help us out.”

 

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