by Tia Siren
A dark girl pulled herself from the pool and came to talk to them. “Hi. I'm Zoey,” she said.
“Alina. Nice to meet you.”
“You too. Ryan told me you were coming.”
“Are you his girlfriend?” Alina asked. She was a very beautiful woman, the type she imagined Ryan liked.
Zoey laughed. “No. We're friends. I organize the girls for his pool parties.”
“Do you mean they are call—”
“Call girls? No.” Zoey forgave Alina's innocence. “College friends of mine. Women who like a good time and love having a few dollars spent on them.”
“Oh.”
“Come on. Come into the water,” Zoey said.
“I don't have any swimming things.” Alina shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the other. She felt uncomfortable. It was more like an orgy than a party.
“You're wearing underwear, aren't you?”
“Of course,” she exclaimed.
“Then bra and panties. On second thought, topless and panties. Come on.” Zoey stepped forward and put her hands on the buttons of Alina's blouse.
“I think she'd rather not,” Ryan said. Zoey looked wounded and dived back into the pool. A minute later she had her legs wrapped around some blond guy. “Don't worry about her. She's a nympho. Guys or gals, she doesn't care.” Somebody turned the music up, and everyone got out of the pool and started to dance. “Are you shocked?” Ryan asked. His smoldering eyes burned into hers, and she suddenly felt very aroused. It was a surreal scene. Here she was, a serious young woman, fully dressed while a group of women shook their naked breasts at a much smaller group of men while dancing to some hit she knew was at least fifteen years old.
“No, I'm not shocked. I just haven't ever been to quite such a...” she wanted to find the right word to prevent offending him. “Lively party.”
“No. I don't suppose you have.”
He reached toward a chair a grabbed the T-shirt sitting there. “Come on. Let's go outside and leave them to it.”
Alina was thankful for the suggestion. They walked back onto the lawn and sat down in a couple of wicker chairs. “I'm glad you're here,” he said.
“Why did you choose me?” She'd been dying to ask. Halfway down a glass of champagne, she dared to ask.
“Because you were the best.”
“I don't believe that.”
“Well, on Monday you will meet Steffi. She'll tell you the same.”
“But there must have been hundreds of applicants from experienced PAs.”
“Yes, there were.”
She looked at the damp hairs on his inner thighs. They all seemed to be screaming at her to touch them. “Then I don't understand.”
“Simple. I decided a while back to help young people whenever possible. You were the most qualified in the under twenty-five category, so you got the job.”
Alina took another sip of her drink, but her glass was empty. She realized she'd drunk the rest of it in one go when she’d been looking at his thighs. “But that's illegal—age discrimination.”
“Who the hell cares? I got what I wanted. That's all that matters.”
From that moment, it was quite clear to her that Ryan Jacobson always got what he wanted. “Well I'm glad you chose me. It's a great opportunity. I won't let you down.”
“I know you won't,” he said confidently. “What kind of a place do you want to live in? You can stay here for a few weeks, or as long as you want for that matter. But I'm sure at some point you'll want some freedom.”
“I don't know what LA has to offer.”
“A lot. I have hundreds of apartments in the city. You can have one of your choosing.” He went to fetch some more champagne.
It was all too good to be true. Her own apartment. “It depends on what I can afford,” she said when he returned.
He ran his hand through his hair and sat back. “What do you mean afford?”
“Well, I'm sure LA is very expensive, and I don't suppose I'll be able to—”
“You don't have to pay for it. Tell you what, tomorrow I'll take you for a ride around and show you a few places. You can take your pick.”
Most girls would have been ecstatic about the opportunity to live in a luxury apartment free of charge, but Alina wondered what his motives were, and she could only come to one conclusion: He wanted to make her reliant on him so she felt obliged to give herself to him. “No, Mr. Jacobson. I don't want a free place. I'd rather pay for my own apartment, even if it's a tiny studio.”
It was the first time Ryan had ever heard a woman turn down one of his offers, and he wasn't used to it. He was sure she'd change her mind once he showed her a few penthouses.
“Okay. Whatever you want.”
“Why do you feel lonely sometimes?” she asked, but then she regretted it.
“What do you mean?”
“You told me when we stopped to look at the house after I'd arrived that you get lonely sometimes.”
He let out a sigh. A half-naked woman came outside. “Come on, Ryan, I want you in the pool.”
He waved her away and concentrated on the question Alina had asked. “I find it hard to trust people. That's why I'm not married.”
She didn't know what to say. She fiddled with her hair and drank some more. “Why do you think that is?” The look he gave her made her sit up straight. “Sorry, Mr. Jacobson. It's none of my business.”
“Ryan. Call me Ryan. It's okay. I'm just not used to opening up to people; that's all.” But she was different, he told himself. She wasn't like the girls in the pool. He could never imagine her wiggling her tits around and being frivolous. She was the real deal. Beautiful, serious, good-humored, and he imagined one day a perfect wife. “My dad left us when I was six, and my mom couldn't cope. She killed herself when I was ten.” Now it was his turn to down his champagne in one go. “I shouldn't have burdened you with that. Just ignore it.”
But how could she? He was now even more attractive to her. A man with such a terrible upbringing, a virtual orphan, who had managed to drag himself out of such a horrendous situation and become one of America's richest men. She was sure most people would have turned to drugs and violence. “But that doesn't mean it will happen to you. I'm sure you could find a woman who would be faithful to you. In fact, I know you could.”
“Maybe. Perhaps one day. But hey, there's still plenty of life left in the old dog before I need to get tied down,” he said, his face suddenly brighter. Alina saw through the pretense, though.
*****
On her first day at work, Alina couldn't believe her luck. She was working in beautiful surroundings with a great salary and an important position in the company. Steffi was kind to her, as were all her other colleagues.
“Why do some people say Mr. Jacobson is bad to his tenants?” Alina asked when they sat down for a cup of coffee.
“It's the nature of his business, I'm afraid,” Steffi said. “It's just economics, and sometimes some poor unsuspecting people get in the way. But that's life.”
“I understand he buys dilapidated buildings and refurbishes them, then charges higher rents.”
“That's right. It’s just, sometimes some people don't want a better apartment where they have to pay more. He's not a bad man, just very driven and focused on his business.”
“I know he's not a bad man. In fact, he's a very kind man indeed.”
“Are you two talking about me?” Ryan asked. “Caught you.” He was in good spirits; Carl had just called to tell him the papers were ready at the solicitors.
“No, Mr. Jacobson, we aren't,” Steffi lied.
“Alina, can you come to my office?” Alina wondered what she'd done wrong. She followed him. When he sat down, he noticed how great she looked. The perfect PA. In fact, he was turned on by her. She was dressed simply but stylishly in a black skirt, blue blouse, and black jacket. Any woman wearing stockings and heels, as she was, was a likely target for his attention, and his eyes soon drifted to her legs. “I
wondered how you were doing on your first day?”
She sighed with relief. “Very well, thanks. Steffi is great. We're getting along just fine.”
“Great. Steffi will be here another four weeks to help you. By then I expect you to know most things. Okay?” He was different at work, far less relaxed. But of course he was. He was the boss of a multimillion-dollar business. There was no time for fooling around.
“Go ask Steffi if there are any messages, please.”
Alina disappeared for a moment and came back with the news that a woman named Cindy had rung, and that the mayor of LA wanted to speak to him about the development of the old post office.
“Whose Cindy?” Alina asked when she got back to her desk.
“I don't know, but she rings up a lot. I think she's one of his conquests,” she whispered.
The next four weeks flew past, and Alina suddenly found herself alone, the PA to a very important man. She was still living at Ryan's house. Every weekend he'd thrown a party on both Friday and Saturday evenings. Some she attended, some she didn't. But she always left around the time it got rowdy or overly sexual.
One Sunday morning, Ryan took her in the Rolls Royce to a luxury apartment building he owned in downtown LA. He took her to the top floor and showed her two of the most expensive apartments in the city. Both were open plans with floor-to-ceiling windows, and great views over the city. “You can have either,” he told her. “Free, on me.” He almost pleaded with her to take one.
“What's you're motive?” she asked.
“I'm a nice guy, and I want to give you a good start in life.”
“I don't believe you.” Then she leaned toward him and whispered in his ear. “It's because you want to get into my panties, isn't it?”
“Er...” That was the reason, but he had to deny it. “No. Of course not.” He wasn't used to being refused. Why would someone refuse such a generous offer? He simply didn't understand.
“I still don't believe you,” she said.
*****
“Ryan, I'm moving out. I've got an apartment of my own,” Alina said one morning.
“Never mind that now. Go home and pack some clothes. We're going on a trip.”
“Where to?”
“Paris.”
“France?” He looked at her, and she knew she'd been dumb. “What shall I pack?”
“Toothbrush.”
“Ryan. What are we going to do there? If I know, I will be able to pack accordingly.”
“We're going to do a deal on an apartment building. We'll be gone three nights, so take business clothes and clothes you can relax in. Oh, and take an evening dress.”
“But I haven't got one.”
“Jesus, Alina. Do I have to mother you?”
“No, you don't.” She stormed out of the office. It was the first time he'd really snapped at her. Perhaps he was under pressure; maybe a deal was going wrong somewhere. Or maybe he was just tiring of her. Maybe she ought to accept his offer of an apartment.
Actually, she was driving Ryan nuts. She wouldn't accept his offers or stay long at his parties, and he wanted her so badly. He'd given it a lot of thought. He'd even considered knocking on her bedroom door and helping himself, but she was very young, and he didn't want to overly upset her. He'd always gotten women by giving them things, expensive things that they had to feel guilty about taking. And the result had always been the same, until now. He'd decided to see if he could crack her resistance in Paris. After all, if she didn't feel a bit sexy in the French capital, she must be frigid, he concluded.
“It's a BBJ,” Ryan shouted as they walked from the Rolls Royce to his private jet.
“What's a BBJ?” Alina shouted back.
“Boeing Business Jet.”
“Is it yours?”
“Of course it is.”
Alina was apprehensive. She'd had so little time to find a nice dress, she was sure she'd look like a sack of potatoes in Paris. She didn't like flying much, and the thought of flying so far made her nervous.
Inside, it wasn't at all like a commercial jet. It was like a small apartment. There was a bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a wonderful sitting area with large leather seats.
“Who flies this thing?” she asked once they were strapped into seats.
“Father Christmas. Heavens, Alina.”
“I'm just really nervous. That's all. Sorry.”
Ryan looked at her and took a more sympathetic approach. “When we get up above the clouds, we'll have a glass of champagne. That ought to settle your nerves.”
Alina didn't have time to answer. The plane sped down the runway, thrusting her back into her seat. She closed her eyes and said good-bye to her parents and wished she'd stayed in New York.
“Here, drink this,” Ryan said shortly after the captain had turned off the seat belt signs.
Alina took the drink and gulped it down, then held out the glass for more. Ryan laughed and obliged. After two full glasses, she was much calmer, even enjoying the flight.
“You know you're a great PA,” he said. “Really good.”
“Thanks. You're a great boss.” She smiled at him. He decided to take a chance. He leaned forward and tried to kiss her. She turned her head away. “No, Ryan. I like you, I really like you, but I don't want to mix work and pleasure.”
Maybe she would change her mind after some more champagne, he thought. He offered her another glass, but she refused, aware of what he was doing. They spent the rest of the flight in silence. She fell into a deep sleep, and Ryan sat and looked at what he so badly wanted but was unable to have.
*****
The Four Seasons George V Hotel in Paris was so luxury laden that only the world’s richest people could afford to stay there. But that was where Alina found herself, courtesy of her job with Ryan. It was ridiculous—her bedroom had a chandelier. The bathroom was an echoing chamber of marble and gold, and she spent an age pampering herself there.
They'd arrived in the middle of the morning. From the luxury limousine that had picked them up from the airport, Alina had seen architecture quite different than what she was used to. The center of Paris had taken her breath away. The hustle and bustle, Notre Dame and the Arc de Triomphe and all the baroque buildings. She had instantly fallen in love with the place.
Ryan and Alina had agreed to get some sleep and meet up for dinner at seven. The business part of the trip was to begin the following day. At six, Alina was already in her evening gown. She stood and looked at herself. She held her stomach in and then let it out. She cursed when she saw—what she perceived to be—a huge belly appear again. There was nothing she could do about it, though, so she left for dinner.
“My God, you look stunning,” Ryan said when she met him.
“So do you,” she said. He was wearing black tie evening wear.
They sat down to dinner, and Alina felt Ryan's eyes on her throughout the evening. Her hair was pinned back over her ears, and she wore droplet earrings that looked like real diamonds. Around her neck was a perfectly good copy of a diamond necklace.
After dinner, Ryan stood up and gave her his arm. They walked to the elevator together and went to the top floor. At her bedroom door, they stopped and looked at each other.
“I want you, Alina. I want to come into your room with you.”
“No, Ryan. It's not right. I work for you.”
“Yes, you do, don't you? In that case, here's the deal: I'm changing your job description.”
“How?”
“I'm giving you some extra duties. Compulsory duties.”
“Are you talking about the kind of duties I think you are?”
“Yes. Now let me into your room, with you.”
“But, Ryan...it's—”
He took the key from her hand, opened the door, and pulled her inside. He kicked the door shut with his foot and threw his arms around her. He smelled lovely, and Alina was torn. She had tried to be professional, she really had. But there was a limit to the level of re
sistance a woman could maintain. It felt so good to be in his arms, and his scent made her legs weak. She put her head against his chest and let him stroke her hair, all the way down her back. When his hand reached down to cup a buttock, she thrust her head up, her eyes begging him to kiss her. When he did, it was wonderful. It was highly unprofessional, and she had no idea where it would lead, but it felt so good, she couldn't stop.
They kissed passionately, and then more gently—lingering, tasting each other, mapping out the ground for the onslaught they both knew was coming.
Slowly but firmly, he unzipped her dress and put his hand on her back. She pushed off his jacket and pulled his tie open. They were in a rush now, each busying themselves with their own clothing. When Alina stepped out of her dress, he pulled her to him and put his head on her breasts, his hands kneading them through her bra. She heard him breathing in her scent, and it drove her wild. Her hands flew to his waistband, eager to find what was hidden beneath. She snapped open the buttons and reached inside. What she found made her sigh with pleasure. He was long, thick, and very hard. As she ran her hand up and down him, he reached behind her and unhooked her bra. Before it hit the ground, his mouth was on her nipples, sucking urgently, making them hard and making her squirm. When she felt his hand inside he panties, she rubbed his penis harder. His fingers expertly found what they were looking for and played.
“Put me on the bed and take me,” she whispered, desperate to have him inside her.
He picked her up and moved to the bed. He threw her down and watched her hair fan out around her face and her breasts wobble. He pulled off her panties and bent down to her taste her. When she felt his mouth on her, she cried out and pulled his hair. He gritted his teeth and endured the pain.
“God you taste so good,” he said, pulling up to take off his clothes.
“Hurry up. I want you back down there.”
She needn't have worried. His mouth searched out her clitoris and began to trace small circles over it. The feeling of this man between her legs was indescribable. There was something so different about it. She'd had sex twice before with young men she'd liked from college, but this was in another league. He was a mature man who knew exactly how to please her, and he was rich and handsome.