by Whitney G.
“Preston?” He raised his eyebrow.
“Oh, that’s right. Am I supposed to call you ‘Mr. Parker’ if we’re in the office?”
“I would prefer that, since no other executive employees are allowed to do otherwise.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll try to remember that for next time, Preston.” I shrugged. “How may I help you this morning?”
“It’s the goddamn afternoon.”
“Is it?” I smiled and turned around in my chair, looking up at the clock. “It is two o’clock, isn’t it? Wow, time is really flying these days.”
“Miss Lauren …”
“Yes?” I spun around to face him again. “You were saying you needed me to do something?”
“For starters, since you’ve given the interns unauthorized time off and you were beyond late again, you can go to Sweet Seasons and get me some afternoon coffee.”
“I don’t think so. You don’t need Sweet Seasons coffee anymore,” I said, standing up and walking over to my beverage cabinet. “I have something even better and faster for you.” I rolled out the mini Keurig I never got the chance to use, and I could literally feel him losing his shit as I plugged it into the wall.
“This takes like two minutes to heat up, and the coffee is usually ready seconds after that,” I said, opening a package of cheap Colombian-like coffee pods. “And I know how particular you are about the chocolate drop that Sweet Seasons places at the bottom of every cup, so …” I unwrapped a Hershey’s kiss and dropped it into a paper cup. “There.”
I placed the cup on the brewing plate and hit start. “Now that you’re seconds away from enjoying some ‘just like’ Colombian coffee, what else do you need me to do for you?”
The vein in his neck swelled, but he kept his expression stoic. “After you go to Sweet Seasons and get me the coffee I prefer, the next thing you’re going to do—”
“I haven’t agreed to the first thing.”
“I know damn well that you’re going to do so.” He glared at me. “The next thing you’re going to do is bring me the report on the top ten budget hotels that you’ve been working on for the past four months, so we can go over the calculations.”
“I stopped working on that a while ago,” I said. “But I’d be happy to send you the ten percent that I completed. I’m sure you can complete the other ninety percent on your own. You are the CEO of this company, after all. It wouldn’t kill you to get your hands dirty for a few days.”
He sucked in a slow breath, looking as if he was about to give me the “You’re fucking fired” I rightfully deserved, but he didn’t. Instead, he stepped back and smiled.
I waited for him to get the last word, to hit me with one of his final lines, but it never came.
“Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Lauren,” he said. “It was good to get your insight on these matters.” He left my office without another word, without looking back and smirking. Nothing.
Confused, I rushed over to my desk and flipped through my “Ways to Make Him Fire Me” notes. The coffee was the most egregious thing on the list, and not completing my work was a close second.
This wasn’t his typical behavior, and I wasn’t quite sure how to make my next move at all.
I waited two hours before printing out my report (I really did work hard on it), but I wasn’t going out to get his coffee. I made my way to his office and found him sitting behind his desk, sipping from a Sweet Seasons cup.
He looked up as soon as I was halfway across his floor. “I was just about to call and give you the good news, Miss Lauren.”
“Am I finally being fired?”
“I said good news, not things that will never happen.” He took another sip from his cup. “I just got off the phone with the CEO of Sweet Seasons. I was telling her how much I enjoy their coffee, and how a certain employee of mine has somehow purchased over six figures of it over the past two years.”
“You can afford it …”
“Yes, I can definitely afford it. Can’t I?” He smiled. “So, that’s why I’ve just talked them into their first licensing deal, and they’re going to build their first office café here in my building.”
I shook my head.
“They were so impressed with the amount I offered,” he said, continuing, “that they’re going to operate a mini stand for a few hours a day starting tomorrow until the official store construction is complete.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “So, that way, you can simply go downstairs to get my coffee when I ask for it, and I won’t have to deal with you blaming your lateness on coffee runs and traffic anymore.”
I bit my lip to prevent myself from screaming and considered walking out of his office.
“Anyway,” he said, taking another dramatic sip of that damn coffee. “May I help you with something?”
“Unfortunately. Here’s my report that you wanted.” I held it out for him, but he didn’t make a move to take it.
“I already have your report.” He smiled, picking up a stack of sheets. “It doesn’t look like you stopped working on this at all. In fact, you seem to have updated it as recently as last night. I’m quite impressed with some of the changes. It’s even color-coded the way I like.”
“How did you get my report, Mr. Parker?”
“Mr. Parker?” He looked me up and down. “I’m back to being your boss now?”
“How did you get my damn report?”
“You left it on your cloud, on the company server that I own, so I logged in.”
“You called the tech department to hack into my account?” I crossed my arms. “And you honestly wonder why I want to quit?”
“No, I was planning to call the tech department to hack into your account, but I guessed your password right on my first attempt.” He smirked. “I personally thought you would come up with something far more creative than FuckMyBoss, but if that’s a fantasy you’d like me to finally help you fulfill, I’m more than happy to bend you over my desk right now.”
I ignored the wetness between my thighs and walked away, slamming his door on my way out.
Seventeen (B)
Tara
Two weeks later
This asshole really isn’t going to fire me or let me out of this contract.
I slumped in my office chair, shaking my head at my completed list of ways to get Preston to fire me. No matter what I attempted to do, he wouldn’t allow himself to get too angry, and he was always ten steps ahead of me in the end. He also had the audacity to look sexier than sin with each passing day, and although I wanted to deny it, the sexual tension between us was now so thick and palpable, that I was sure that everyone in the office could feel it.
To make matters worse, now that Sweet Seasons was operating in the basement, every employee I ran into couldn’t help but stop and tell me how “thankful” they were for me suggesting the idea to Mr. Parker. I wanted to correct them, to say to them it was a twisted play on his behalf, but part of the licensing agreement called for every cup to have the words Courtesy of Tara Lauren, EA to Preston Parker printed on its side. There was no point in attempting to explain it to anyone.
I picked up my notes for my mock presentation and groaned. A part of me wanted to skip it and go home, but another part of me actually wanted to help him close the deal he’d been chasing since we met.
I’ll get there when I feel like it …
I looked at my employee contract for the umpteenth time, rereading all the lines I’d missed over the years, hoping for some type of loophole.
“There are no loopholes.” The deep sound of Preston’s voice made me look up. “If you’re going to do most of the talking in our London meeting this weekend, I would suggest heading upstairs for your mock presentation.”
I looked down at my contract again, finishing a paragraph before standing to my feet. “You know, if I was a CEO and I had an employee who hated me, I would just let her go.”
“Miss Lauren, if I did that, I wouldn’t have any employees left.”
�
��You’re not going to ask me why I want to quit after all this time? You’re not interested in my reasoning?”
“You can’t quit, so your reasoning is irrelevant.”
“You’ve never said the words ‘thank you’ to me once.” I stepped closer to him. “Not one goddamn time.”
“Neither have you.”
“What?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You think I should be thanking you? For what?”
“For not pressing charges against you for all the breakfasts you stole, for neglecting to file credit fraud for all the free coffee you’ve covered for people at Sweet Seasons behind my back.” He narrowed his eyes at me, too. “For hiring you when you had no real hotel experience. I had a file cabinet full of qualified applicants.”
“That you’d probably already ran through because you’re an asshole boss.”
“I’m not done listing all the things I’ve done for you.”
“You honestly think there’s more?”
“You have the highest salary, the most benefits—”
“The most headaches, the worst insomnia, the highest stress level.” I gritted my teeth. “So, yes, you’re right. Thank you. Thank you so much.” I rolled my eyes and walked away from him, ignoring his calls for me to come back. I headed straight for the conference room, ready to get this mock presentation over with, so I could at least enjoy tonight in my own bed before being confined to yet another unwanted business trip with him.
I took my place at the front of the full twenty-person boardroom table, waiting for Preston to arrive, ignoring the fact that his face was red.
I was more than prepared for his rude behavior, since mock presentations were always brutal. No one spoke except the presenter and him, and his feedback was often beyond harsh.
“Good morning, everyone.” I started speaking the second he sat down. “My name is Tara Lauren, and I’m very happy to be here. I’m the executive assistant to Mr. Parker and the lead project manager for these potential negotiations.”
“I think you should just lead with being the project manager.” Preston interrupted me, his glare glacial. “Seeing as though you’re not actually happy to be here, and you just told me that you’re not happy as my executive assistant.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Parker, that’s not what I said.”
“That’s what you wrote.”
I clenched my fists at my sides and cleared my throat.
Don’t let him get to you. Don’t let him get to you.
“Good morning, everyone.” I gave a fake smile. “My name is Tara Lauren, and I’m the project manager for these potential negotiations. I’m honored to be here.”
“If you were honored, then you wouldn’t be trying to leave,” Preston mumbled under his breath.
“I would like to start my presentation by telling you, Mr. Von Strum and company, why you should consider selling your company to us.” I clicked a remote, and the screen behind me lit up with my Power-Point presentation. “Even though our brands are different, I feel as though we’ve come up with a great solution to handling the blend.” I changed the slide. “So, first, I’d like to discuss our differences.”
“We’re already well aware of our differences, Miss Lauren.” Preston leaned back in his chair. “How about you start with your solutions to finally fixing them?”
“I’m not sure our differences can ever be fixed.”
“Excuse me?”
I took a long sip of my water. “My apologies.” I clicked to the next slide. “I’d like to start with the employee integration.”
“No, start with the financial integration.”
I resisted the urge to scream and clicked through to that part of the presentation. “Financial Integration. We’ve put together a team of accountants from an independent firm to oversee our plans, and once that’s complete—”
“It’s already complete, Miss Lauren.” He looked angrier than I’d ever seen him before. “Which is why you’re giving this presentation. Although at the rate you’re going, we may need to hire an actress to play your part.”
“I think that’s more than fine, as long as we can hire someone who knows how to shut the fuck up to play yours.”
A collective gasp filled the room, and someone dropped a glass to the floor, shattering it against a sudden silence.
Preston blinked, then he leaned forward in his chair. “What did you say to me, Miss Lauren?” His voice was strident.
I said nothing. I was in utter disbelief that I’d said those words aloud. In front of everyone.
“I need everyone except for Miss Lauren to leave the room.” He glared at me. “Now.”
Everyone made a beeline for the exit doors, forcing papers and glasses to wobble in their wake.
I stood rooted to my spot, feeling the weight of Preston’s gaze as he rose to his feet. He strode over to the door and locked it, and then he slowly stepped closer to me.
“What did you say to me?” He took the papers from my hand and set them on the table. “I need you to repeat it.”
I swallowed. “I don’t recall stuttering.”
He raised his eyebrow. “For your sake, it would be much better if you had.”
“Seeing as though I can’t quit and you clearly won’t fire me, I don’t see how.” I stepped back, and he stepped forward, and within seconds, I was up against the wall. “I think the only thing you’re upset about is me being rude to you in front of your executive team.”
“I’m upset about a lot of things,” he said, clenching his jaw. “And I’m not going to tolerate them anymore.”
“Then accept my two weeks’ notice.”
“Miss Lauren,” he said, speaking slowly and ignoring my comment. “I’m going to give you one last chance to redo this presentation today, and when I do—”
“I’ll say the same thing, in the same way, if you interrupt me again.”
“I am going to interrupt you again, especially if you come off like the ungrateful assistant I haven’t been more than generous with for two years. An ungrateful assistant who hates her job so much, yet she keeps showing up every day.”
“She’s legally bound to do so.”
“She’s not personally bound to do so.”
Before I could get another word out, his lips crashed into mine, and my arms went around his neck. He slid his hands around my thighs and lifted me up, carrying me to the conference table. My ass hit the cold surface when he set me down, and he kept his lips attached to mine.
Our kiss was wild and frantic, passionate and reckless. As his hand slid up my dress, I slowly unfastened his tie. I tried to unbutton his shirt next, but he pushed me down against the table, so my back was pressed against the glass, so he was standing between my legs.
Bending down over me to claim my mouth again, his tongue danced circles against mine. He slid his hands over my stomach, letting his fingers wander down to my panties.
“I prefer when you don’t wear these.” He ripped them off and slipped two fingers inside of me.
“Ahhh …” I moaned as he pushed them deeper, slowly toying with my pleasure by testing how far they could go.
“You fucking hate me?” he whispered.
“Yes …” My voice was hoarse. “Yes.”
“You sure about that?”
“One hundred percent.”
He pulled his fingers out of me and bit my bottom lip. Hard.
Glaring at me, he slid his hands against my sides and spread my legs, pinning down my thighs to the table. “I want you to tell me how much you hate me after I’m done eating your pussy.” He buried his face against my pussy and flicked his tongue against my clit.
My hips bucked against his mouth as he darted his tongue faster, and I couldn’t hold back my moans if I tried.
I grabbed his hair, gripping the strands in utter shock and pleasure. I cried out for him to slow down, but his tongue only moved faster. Sucking my clit into his mouth, he twirled his tongue in a steady, sensuous rhythm that made my toes curl.
Groaning, he kissed my pussy like he kissed my mouth, dominating every move and devouring my lips without restraint.
“Ohhh. Oh, God …” My back arched off the glass, and my pussy throbbed against his mouth. “Please … Slow … Slow down.”
He refused. Instead, he slipped two of his fingers inside of me again—pushing me closer to the edge with two separate rhythms.
My clit swelled against his lips, and I tried to fight the tremors that were building inside of me, but it was no use. As he continued his kisses, the tremors tripled in force, and I couldn’t hold back anymore.
I screamed loudly as orgasm after orgasm wracked through my body. “Shit …”
I thought that he would stop—give me a chance to recover, but he lifted my right leg and tossed it over his shoulder. Then he bent low once more, devouring me all over again.
A soft knock came to the door as I was mid-bliss, but Preston continued sucking on my clit, shushing me in between breaths.
The knock came harder the next time, accompanied with a deep, “It’s important, Mr. Parker.”
“Give me one second.” He tore his mouth away from my clit, glaring at me like before. Stepping back, he helped me off the table and readjusted my dress and smoothed my hair before addressing himself.
Looking me over one last time, he walked to the door and opened it.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Mr. Parker, you have an emergency call. I’ve told them to hold on twice, but they say it can’t wait.”
“I’ll be right there.” He shut the door again and walked over to me, pushing a few stray hairs into place.
“We need to finish this,” he said, trailing his finger against my chest. “Stay here.”
I waited an entire hour, and he never came back. He only sent me an email.
* * *
Subject: London Trip.
Miss Lauren,
Something unfortunate has come up, so you’ll need to go on the trip without me.
Your presentation was stellar. (The one between your legs, that is. The one about this next business deal still needs work.)