The Assistant
Copyright © 2012
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Please Note
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, event or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Warning
This book contains explicit content and is suitable for readers 18 and above. If you’re a day less than 18, back-off. Contents are purely erotic fantasies. In real life, always practice safe sex.
About the Author
Vallen Green is a tease who considers erotica as her outlet. A beauty enthusiast during the day, and an erotica writer at night, she loves Boston terriers, soft caramel candies, and anything scented. Most of her work are inspired by real life steamy sessions and amplified by her ticklish imagination. She’s a proof that Capricorns have a libido that is bigger than life and they have horns hidden behind decent clothing.
The Assistant
Abigail Hawkins sat quietly in her chair, listening intently to what her boss was saying. When she got called to come into Evelyn Pritchett’s office, she had expected a new laundry list of tasks that she needed to accomplish. Input meeting times into the daily planner, make salon appointments, send replies for missed calls, pick up dry cleaning, order food – it was only a few of the things she was asked to do as the personal assistant to one of the hardest working women in town. But when the CEO of Pritchett Media started on a whole different tangent, she didn’t know what to think.
“I know it’s not what you signed up for,” Evelyn said, a hint of sadness in her voice. “You’re my assistant after all and not a nanny, but at this rate, I don’t know what else to do about him. I know you’ll be able to keep him in line and maybe being closer to his age would help.”
“Thank you for saying that, ma’am,” Abigail replied. “And I understand. I know for a fact that he’s been causing you more stress than being in meetings for 12 hours straight, so maybe it is necessary to do this.”
“I just don’t know where things went wrong and when he started to think that acting out now will be okay,” the older woman sighed.
Abigail offered a small smile, feeling sympathy towards her boss at the trouble she had to deal with – the “trouble” being her own son and heir to her company and fortune, Blake Pritchett.
Blake was most like a local celebrity. Not only was he rich and the son of one of the most successful women in the country, but he was also smart, graduating top of his class from Syracuse University at the age of 22. Despite being who he was, he decided to start at an entry level position in his family’s own company, working his way up like any honest man.
If that wasn’t enough, he was a looker standing at 6’4” with blonde hair and the clearest green eyes. Put all of that together with his natural charm, he had women falling over themselves to even just stand next to him. And that was where the issues began.
Being who he was, he rarely found himself in relationships. He either couldn’t trust anyone enough that they were after his heart and not his money or his busy schedule just didn’t permit being in a committed relationship. But he had figured that if there were women willing to give him satisfaction for even just a night, then he’d take it.
The reason Evelyn was so stressed over her son’s indiscretions weren’t because of women coming out of the woodwork spilling intimate details or claiming they were pregnant with his child. She casually waved those off knowing her son was smarter than that. What she was worried about was the fact that his work seemed to be suffering – always late coming into the office, missing important meetings, being unable to make project deadlines. With the hopes of grooming Blake to take control of the business once she decided to retire, Evelyn wanted Abigail to become her son’s personal assistant instead.
***
Blake slammed a fist against his desk as soon as he received his mother’s email, not at all liking the idea of having her personal assistant take over his affairs. I’m not a fucking 5-year old that needs a babysitter, he thought bitterly.
He knew why his mother had decided to sic a personal assistant on him but that didn’t mean he had to like it. What was so wrong about what he was doing anyway? He was a young man with a thirst for enjoying life, and for him that meant enjoying the company of a woman every now and then. It wasn’t like he was going out and fathering illegitimate children on anyone who would spread her legs. He had more common sense than that. But having someone constantly hound him about schedules would certainly throw a few kinks for his out of work activities.
It was then that he decided maybe he’d have some fun with this arrangement, maybe make things so unbearable that his new assistant would go beg his mother to be fired. He smirked at the idea, already making plans in his head.
He had heard about his mother’s personal assistant a lot though he had never really met her. He found it a bit odd now that he’s thought about it but shrugged it off nonetheless. All he could think of now were the tidbits of information he’s heard about her. Young, does everything by the book and very hardworking. Maybe he can send her out on condom runs or even convince her to clean up his house wearing a French maid outfit. It was her job to do what he needed to be done after all.
He was pulled from his thoughts when a knock sounded against his door, calling out to whoever was on the opposite side to come in.
He sat up straighter when she came into view, his eyes travelling from her black patent pumps up her long legs, her slender waist to her full chest, and finally to her startling blue eyes.
“Hello, Mister Pritchett,” she greeted. “My name’s Abigail Hawkins. I’m your new personal assistant.”
Blake swallowed thickly as he stared at the beauty in front of him. This is gonna be harder than I thought.
***
Over the next couple of weeks, Abigail had developed a system. Evelyn was sneaky enough to get a copy of Blake’s apartment keys, giving the young assistant access to his home. That meant personal wake up calls instead of giving him a ring that she knew he would ignore, as well as constantly hounding him to hurry up so they can make his scheduled appointments. She had quickly learned about what he liked to eat, making sure his kitchen was stocked and orders were made to prevent any unnecessary delays.
The only downside to that system was how some of the women he took home didn’t take to being made to do the walk of shame too kindly, or how she would need to stay out late if he insisted on all-night partying. But she made things work, much to his chagrin.
Blake had actually been surprised by her tactics, not even fazed by the sight of women traipsing naked in search of where he had haphazardly thrown their clothes. What baffled him even more was that Abigail actually allowed for him to carry on with his extracurricular activities, even keeping condoms well-stocked.
He had asked her once why nothing he did bothered her, her response making her see her in a whole other light.
“I’m your assistant, not your mother,” she replied. “I’m paid to make sure you’re at the office on time and that you’re capable of doing your job.”
“Is that why I’m
on an energy drink regimen?” he asked dryly, eyeing the bottle sitting at the edge of his desk.
“Lord knows you won’t be able to stay awake long enough if you’re not,” she quipped.
“I thought mom hired you to keep me on the straight and narrow.”
“Like I said,” she started. “I’m not your mother. I’m not you either so I’m not gonna preach how you need to live your life. We’re the same age and I understand you have a lot more on your plate than I do. And like most people you’re looking to unwind and have some fun. Your idea of fun may not be the most ideal but whatever floats your boat.”
Blake sat stunned she had finished, not really knowing what to say.
“But if there’s one thing I can ask of you,” Abigail added. “Can you stop throwing women’s underwear all over the place? Some of the girls you bring home don’t even wear any.”
His jaw fell slack, and looking at the smug look on her face, he knew he had been caught.
“Nice try,” she said lightheartedly. “I grew up with four brothers,” she explained. “I’ve had enough practice in dealing with such shenanigans.”
From then on, Blake had become easier to deal with. He still had his late night parties and trysts though he learned to be more discreet and more mindful of time. He had even rendered Abigail into shock a few times when she came into his room to find him already dressed for work.
Some days, he had even purposely refused to leave his bed despite having woken up before her arrival. Keeping to a tight schedule and system made her predictable, and he felt a childish enjoyment in seeing her so worked up when he slept in or moved too slow for her liking. Having her jump into his bed to force him out was a bonus.
Blake wasn’t going to lie, he found her beautiful and his thoughts often went astray when she wore short skirts that showed off her shapely legs. He was also quite certain that Abigail was attracted to him too, even if just a bit, noticing how her cheeks would flush when he was caught in a state of undress. He had taken advantage of that realization by wearing only boxers to sleep despite his preference of a shirt and loose shorts.
Today was one of those days that he decided he wanted to have fun with her, just lying in wait until she arrived.
He had an early meeting scheduled for a project considered to be his biggest yet, even blocking off the entire day just in case things ran long. And he knew that she would be going crazy if Blake was even a minute behind schedule. But what Abigail didn’t know was that he had ended up having dinner with his new client the night before, both agreeing to cancel the day’s meeting after ironing out the deal.
So now he lay in bed, his eyes fixed on his bedside clock as he counted down to her arrival. As soon as it hit 7AM, he heard the familiar jingle of keys and his front door opening soon after. Right on time, he thought, flipping over to his stomach and closing his eyes to feign sleep.
Abigail entered the apartment, shaking her head at the lack of noise. A quiet place only meant that Blake was still asleep. Trust that the one day he needed to be up early is the day he goes back to his antics, she thought begrudgingly.
Marching straight to his bedroom, she was already prepared to give him a piece of her mind, even planning on throwing a bucket of cold water on him if he even tried to ignore her. She harshly pushed the door open, not giving a care at the loud bang it made when it collided against the wall.
Blake snapped his head up at the sound, turning his gaze towards the door. Through half-lidded eyes, he found her with her hands on her waist, a heel-clad foot tapping against his carpeted floor impatiently. He groaned before dropping his head back on his pillow, smothering his smile in the soft down.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she grumbled. “Blake!”
“Go away,” he said, his voice muffled by his pillow.
“Did you forget what today is?” she asked, her voice cracking in disbelief.
“Tuesday?”
“Very funny,” she deadpanned. “For the sake of your career, get up.”
“Give me a break, alright?” he said, rolling over with his back to her. “I had a long night.”
“That’s not my problem,” she pointed out. “You knew how important today is. You should have known better than to go gallivanting all over the city.”
The only response she received was silence. She dropped her arms from her waist and clenched her fists at her sides, trying to hold back a scream of frustration at the idea that he had fallen back to sleep.
Abigail kicked off her shoes so she could have better footing when she tried to pull him out of bed. Blake’s smile widened when he heard the soft thuds against the floor, knowing that she had gotten rid of her shoes and was probably getting rid of her jacket as he lay there waiting.
He felt the cold of the air conditioning hit his feet, finding her at the foot of the bed through the slits of his eyes with his blanket clutched in her fists. She pulled at the soft material only for him to tighten his grip on it, almost making her fall over when it didn’t budge.
“You are unbelievable,” she complained, marching to the side of the bed and looking down on him. She leaned down and reached for one of his pillows. “Get up,” she demanded, hitting his face with it.
“Ow.”
“Don’t make me pour a bucket of cold water on you,” she warned.
“Five more minutes, please?” he whined, making a move to turn over to the other side. Gotcha, he thought, smirking when she leaned down to wrap a hand around his arm.
In one swift move, Blake pulled Abigail down, her slender frame crashing against his. He laughed at her squeal of surprise, giving away that he had been faking it.
“You jerk!” she said, punching him in the shoulder. “Stop fooling around and get up!”
“See,” he started, a thoughtful look crossing his features. “In my head, I’m not fooling around and I’m actually very up.”
Abigail’s cheeks flamed crimson when the meaning of his words sank in. Add the fact that she was lying on top of him while he was practically naked with his arms wrapped around her, and she had no chance at trying to hide it. Blake’s grin widened at her deep blush, even chuckling when she averted his gaze.
“Will you please get serious?” she said, squirming in his embrace. “You’re gonna be late.”
“To what?” he asked, acting clueless.
“You have an important meeting in an hour,” she hurriedly reminded him. “And it’s across town! We’ll be lucky if we get there with a minute to spare but that’s only if you get a move on and get ready.”
“The meeting with the reps from the Thompson Group, right?” he mused.
She opened her mouth to speak but stopped short, noticing the gleam in his eyes. He was amused from what she could tell. “What are you hiding from me?” she asked suspiciously.
Blake threw his head back in laughter before explaining what had happened the previous night, adding how not only did they cancel the meeting this morning but also how all they needed was for the papers to be drawn and signed for the deal to be a hundred percent in the bag.
“I hate you so much right now,” Abigail grumbled, narrowing her eyes at him as he continued to laugh. She tried to push up off his chest, only to crash back down when he tightened his grip around her. “Can you let go?”
“Nah, I kinda like you right where you are,” he replied. “Nice view, by the way.”
She slapped his chest when she noticed him looking down her shirt. They had grown comfortable enough to be able to call each other friends but it was another thing to get teased from across the room as compared to being teased while his morning wood was pressed against her leg.
She tried to break free from his grasp once again but he proved to be too strong and too stubborn to let go. “Come on,” she whined. “If you’re not doing anything today, that means I’m not needed and we can both have a day off.”
“Who says you’re not needed?”
Abigail tensed when she heard the low seductiv
e tone, swallowing thickly when she felt one of his hands graze her thigh, slowly pushing her skirt higher. She raised her blue eyes to meet his green ones, left mesmerized at the lust she saw shining in them.
“What are you doing, Blake?”
“I think you know exactly what I’m doing.”
“We can’t do this.”
“Why not?”
Her mouth opened and closed, no words coming out. She had no idea what to say and whatever reason she could think of, she knew he’d shoot down. And with how his hand was now massaging her inner thigh, she wasn’t really sure if she wanted him to stop.
Her eyes fluttered shut when his hand moved to the apex of her thighs, one finger lazily tracing at her lace-covered mound.
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