by Whitney G.
“As you wish, Miss Lauren. I’ll have it to his office soon.”
I ended the call and stared at the screen, waiting for the next call that always came in like clockwork.
The second the time changed, Preston’s town car driver called my phone.
“Good morning, Simon.”
“Good morning, Miss Lauren,” he said. “I’m calling to let you know I’ll be arriving at Mr. Parker’s door in five minutes, as he wants to arrive to work early today. Is there any urgent news I need to report?”
“Not at this time, Simon. Thank you for calling.” I ended the call and returned my attention to Michael. He was pacing the floor, letting out long sighs every few seconds.
“I’m really sorry about that,” I said. “What were you saying?”
“I was saying that I don’t think this is going to work out.” His words were cut and dry. “I can’t take this shit anymore.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“We haven’t fucked since you got this job, Tara. Every time we sit down to dinner or something as simple as lunch, your boss—or someone connected to your goddamn boss calls and you drop everything and start running.”
“I do not drop everything and start running,” I said. “I’m just trying to make the most of this opportunity and save up as much money as I can. You know I don’t plan to work for him forever.”
“You said you were quitting last month when you worked one hundred and twenty hours in a single week. And let’s not forget about five days ago when he called you at two in the morning to read him a damn email, as if he was blind and couldn’t read it himself.”
That was the first time I used my vibrator against his voice …
“You also claimed that you were done last week when he made you stay at work until three in the morning, asking you to rewrite the same report twenty times.”
“Look. I know my boss can be difficult.”
“No, your boss is not difficult, Tara. He’s an asshole. I know it, you know it, everyone in fucking New York knows it.”
“Okay, fine. He’s an asshole. I think you’re being unfair about this, though. It’s not like I haven’t been trying to get another job. No one has called me back despite all the interviews, so it doesn’t make sense to quit until I have something else set up.”
“With your salary, I think you have more than enough money in the bank to find something within the next three months, Tara.” He looked into my eyes. “I don’t mean to be blunt or give you an ultimatum, but I have no choice. It’s your boss or me.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” he said, stepping closer. “Your boss or me. Choose.”
Before I could give him an answer, my phone sounded with Preston’s signature ringtone.
“Can you hold that thought for one second?” I asked, stepping into my office to take the call privately. “Hello?”
“Is there any reason why the Dawson files weren’t delivered to my condo this morning?” Preston asked, his voice deep.
“It’s because there were too many typos, so I asked them to redo it. You’ll have it this afternoon.”
“What about your notes on the Anderson presentation?”
“I printed it last night, and it’s with Simon. I figured you’d want to read them on your way to work, since you have eight newspaper articles to get through.”
“Hmmm.” He hung up in my face, as usual, without saying anything else.
If there was anything that infuriated me about him the most, it was the fact that he never said thank you, never even implied that he was grateful for my work.
My phone vibrated with an email from him seconds later.
* * *
Subject: Your Anderson Presentation Notes
Hopefully, this version of your notes will have the proper spelling of “annuities.” Otherwise, I’ll need you to redo it, preferably with spellcheck. (You do know that all the computers in my company have this feature, correct?)
Preston Parker
CEO & Owner of Parker International
* * *
Ugh!
I tossed my phone across the room and returned to the lobby to finish talking to Michael, but he was long gone. The only thing that remained was a post-it note he’d left on top of Cynthia’s desk.
We’re over.
Go fuck your boss.
—Michael
Several hours later, I sent Michael another string of text messages—asking if we could talk things out or at least be friends, but he didn’t respond. I decided to message him on Facebook, but when I logged in, I noticed that he’d changed his relationship status. It wasn’t to “single,” though. He was now in a relationship with someone else.
What?
I waited for my heart to ache, but it didn’t. The only emotions I felt were anger with a slight side of relief.
Checking the time, I decided to skip today’s mandatory executive meeting and go for a post-breakup drink with Ava instead. I made my way to the elevator and hit the down button.
When the doors opened, I saw Mr. Parker and one of his financial advisors talking. Stepping onto the car, I hit the G button.
“I believe you’re mistaken, Miss Lauren,” Preston said, “This afternoon’s meeting is on the T level.”
“I’m well aware of where it is, Mr. Parker.” I turned to face him and shrugged. “I don’t feel like going.”
“It’s not optional.”
“In that case, I’ll have someone set a tape recorder in my chair. Better yet, since you feel like going there, can you do it for me?”
He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at me.
“Um, I think I forgot something …” His advisor hit a random floor button and rushed off once the doors opened.
The second they shut, Preston hit the emergency stop button and the elevator jolted to a sudden and jerky stop. Then he stepped closer to me. “Do I need to help you understand your job description, Miss Lauren?”
“Yes.” I glared at him. “Please help me find the clause where it says I have to put up with the boss’s assholery twenty-four seven.”
“I believe that falls under clause five.”
I rolled my eyes and tried to push the S button, so the elevator could move again, but he blocked me.
“I haven’t received any flagged emails from your boyfriend lately,” he said. “Is it because he’s spending some much-needed time working on his vocabulary?”
“No, it’s because he dumped me. He thought I was spending way too much time with my overly demanding boss.”
“Oh?” He closed the gap between us, locking his green eyes on mine. “Well, in that case, your overly demanding boss is quite sorry for your loss.”
“No, he isn’t.”
“He definitely isn’t,” he said, smirking. “He is, however, quite upset that his assistant thinks she can talk to him any type of way in front of his executive staff.”
“Maybe if he stopped treating her any type of way, she’d consider changing.”
“I don’t appreciate my employees making me look bad.”
“You do most of that yourself.”
“Don’t interrupt me,” he hissed. “I wasn’t done talking.”
“You never are.”
Silence.
He stared at me for several seconds—looking as if he was torn between firing or fucking me. And before I could manage a half-hearted apology, his lips crashed against mine, and he pushed me against the button panel.
His tongue slid against mine, demanding me to let him lead and I willingly submitted to his tempo.
Holding back a moan, I wrapped my arms around his neck as he kissed me even harder.
“Wrap your leg around my waist,” he whispered harshly. “Now.”
I couldn’t. I was too lost in the feel of his mouth against mine. Too stunned by how long and deep he was stretching our kiss. I shut my eyes instead, feeling the buttons from the panel press into my back.
S
oftly biting my bottom lip, he pushed my dress up and slipped a hand between my thighs. He stalled when his hands found the lace trim of my panties, and he let out a low laugh before yanking them off in one pull.
He swirled his thumb against my soaking wet clit, and my eyes fluttered open.
“Ahhh …” A moan escaped my lips, and my nails dug into his skin. My clit began to throb with pleasure.
Still kissing me deeply, he slid his fingers deep inside of me, making me moan even louder.
“So goddamn wet.” He groaned, pushing his fingers in and out of me in a slow, sensuous rhythm that made my knees weak.
“Tell me you haven’t thought about fucking me since you started here …” he whispered against my lips.
“I haven’t,” I lied and arched my back, feeling the elevator move again. As if he didn’t care, he continued kissing and controlling me, owning my body in a way I’d never felt before.
The elevator came to a sudden stop, and we immediately tore away from one another.
I pulled my dress down, and he stuffed my panties into his pocket before the doors opened on the meeting floor.
“Like I was saying,” he said, stepping off first. “This meeting isn’t optional.”
Nine
Preston
I need to figure out a better way to handle this.
After getting a taste of Tara’s mouth in the elevator and feeling how tight her pussy felt against my fingers, I knew that wouldn’t be enough. We needed to take things further, and we needed to do it soon, since thoughts of her were infiltrating every moment of my day.
Her breathy moans were all I could think about during yesterday’s meeting, and last night, all I’d done was envision her on all fours, taking every inch of my cock until she begged me to let her come.
Shaking away those thoughts, I looked at today’s short list and read through her handwritten notes. I sipped my coffee and highlighted the parts I needed more details about, and as I was sending her an email, she stepped into my office, looking stunning as usual.
“Yes, Miss Lauren?”
“The Von Strums just called,” she said. “They would like you to know that due to your ruthlessness, you are the last person on earth that they want to sell their hotel chain to.”
“Seeing as though I’m the last person who’s interested in buying it, you can tell them that I find their logic quite accurate.”
A slight smile crossed her lips, but she didn’t let it stay. She tapped her phone’s screen a few times and looked at me again. “George won’t be able to attend your expansion meeting in London next month.”
“What about Wilder?”
“He’s getting married to his third cousin, twice removed.” She stepped closer and swiped the extra pepper packets from my breakfast plate. Then she motioned for me to switch my tie. “I sent him a gift on your behalf.”
“I’m not the type of man who would send another man a gift. I’d send a bottle of champagne at most.”
“I did send champagne.”
“Did you pick a good year?”
“I picked a great year.”
“1996?”
“1995.” She set a folder on my desk. “Here’s the free breakfast report from the budget hotel chains that you claim you don’t want to read.”
“I don’t.” I took it from her. “Which budget chain is number one this month?”
“The W Hotels, again.”
“Interesting.” I shook away a memory from my past before it could play. “Anything else?”
“Yes, I would like to discuss what happened in the elevator yesterday.”
“What about it?”
“I was faking it.”
“Come again?” I leaned forward.
“I want you to know that I was thinking about someone else the entire time.” She shrugged. “And I’d like for us to keep our relationship—or lack thereof, one hundred percent professional so I can keep my personal life separate.”
I blinked, completely stunned by her bullshit. “Just so I’m understanding this correctly,” I said, looking right into her eyes, “your mind was elsewhere while my fingers were deep in your pussy yesterday?”
“Yes, Mr. Parker.” She was lying like hell. “Would you like me to do anything else for you this afternoon?”
“Yes, Miss Lauren.” I leaned back in my chair, seething. “There’s plenty I’d like you to do this afternoon …”
Ten
Tara
“I would ask how your day was, but I can see the answer written all over your face.” Ava signaled for the bartender later that night. “Can my friend have a few shots of your hardest vodka?”
“Thank you.” I shook my head, silently cursing myself for lying to Preston about faking it in the elevator. For even bringing it up in the first place, all while knowing he was petty as hell and would retaliate by asking me to do a lot of “emergency” work.
I knew he didn’t really need twenty copies of the same report every hour, nor did he need me to reconstruct his in-office wardrobe closet. He definitely didn’t need his desk files re-organized, but since I’d done it, I’d found a hidden panel with more pictures of him and his twin brother. There were a few time stamped letters between them, but the most recent one was from more than ten years ago.
I was going to confront him about it, but that was before he insisted that I stay an extra four hours and help him with a speech that he wasn’t due to give for another six months. It was also before he asked me to help him pick out the perfect set of cufflinks from his collection of over five hundred pairs.
As angry as he made me, as much as I wanted to thrash his neck with a pen during certain meetings, I couldn’t deny the effect he had on my body whenever we were in the same room. Hell, whenever we were on the phone.
From the way he looked at me when we were alone—like he was undressing me layer by layer, to the way he said my name, I was always aroused. I couldn’t even begin to explain the effect his sexy smile had on me, but I didn’t think I could ever bring myself to cross the line.
“Earth to Tara. Earth to Tara!” Ava set two shots in front of me, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Dare I ask what you’re thinking about?”
“Quitting.”
“That’s a given.” She laughed. “What else are you thinking about?”
“How my boss is forcing me to fly to London with him at the end of this month.”
“Really? Wow, that sounds amazing!” She cleared her throat. “I mean, Oh no! Not London! How dare he take you there on his private luxury jet!”
“I’m serious, Ava.” I tossed back both shots. “He takes up all my time. I haven’t had sex since I started this job because I don’t have time to sleep, let alone meet anyone.”
“Oh, please! That’s not an excuse for not having sex. You don’t need to meet anyone these days for that.”
“Huh?”
“Just use Tinder.” She pulled out her phone. “Download and swipe right when you find someone you like. Make sure they’re close by–like ten miles or less, and then offer to grab a drink the same day. It’s like having access to unlimited booty calls, and it’s perfect for people like you who have unrelenting jobs.”
“You use this?”
“Of course.” She picked up my phone and downloaded the app for me. “From now on, you can run a few errands for your boss, get laid, and get right back to work. No problem.”
“Even if the guy I want to fuck is my boss?”
“What? What did you just say?”
“I said, I’d like to try Tinder tonight. Right now.”
Half an hour later, I was sitting across the table from a Wall Street guy—in utter awe of how technology had completely changed the dating game. Well, the sex game anyway.
“So, what is it that you do again?” he asked. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
“I’m the executive assistant to a CEO.”
“Ah.” He smiled. “And you’ve been at that for half a year?”
I nodded.
“I take it that you must love your job, then?”
“No, I love the money. I have a terrible-ass boss who thinks he owns every hour of my day, but I’m quitting soon,” I said, not wanting to spend too much time on that conversation. This guy was no Preston—at all, but he was attractive enough, and I needed to release all the arousal Preston made me feel into some actual sex.
My vibrator collection was far too used to me using Preston Parker’s face for late-night inspiration, and I wanted to give them a much-deserved break.
“Tell me you haven’t thought about fucking me since you started here …”
“What is it that you do?” I asked.
“I’m a junior intern at Wells Fargo.” He leaned forward, smiling. “I hate my job, too, so I’ll be switching soon. You want to get out of here?”
“Absolutely.”
As I stood up, I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. An email from Preston.
Subject: Emergency. I Need Your Help
At midnight? I was tempted to open it, but I didn’t. I knew it wasn’t a real emergency, so I decided to deal with it after the sex.
Minutes later, when we made it to the sidewalk, my phone buzzed once more. Preston.
Subject: I know you saw my last email …
I turned off my phone and looked at the guy, not even remembering his name. “My place or yours?”
“I live eight blocks away.”
“I’m only two,” I said, leading the way.
He filled our short trek with small talk, but I was only halfway paying attention. The only thing I could think about was Preston’s lips on mine, the feel of his hands drifting between my thighs.
“I’m really looking forward to this,” Stranger Guy said, running his fingers through my hair as I scanned my keycard at the front entrance.
“Me, too.” I smiled and pushed the door open, walking him over to the elevator bank.
We stepped inside, and I hit the button for my floor. I thought he would start kissing me as soon as the doors closed, but he didn’t. He only smiled, and with every floor we passed, images of Preston controlling my mouth and slipping his fingers deep inside of me crossed my mind.