Crave Me

by Geneva Lee

  “Smith.” I enjoyed how it sounded as she tried it out. My name on her lips was familiar—intimate. Belle crossed one leg behind the other and rubbed it nervously along her calf. Shoes with red soles again. Some type of luxury brand. Normally I might ask my assistant to send a pair to the beautiful woman standing before me. A present that would grease the path to what I was really interested in. The right present cut through all the unnecessary shit—dinner, conversations, romance—and got straight to the point: my cock buried in warm pussy. The other things were necessary, at least the dinner and conversation, if I wanted more. In my experience, the right amount of attention and then a woman would do whatever I wanted.

  I hadn’t decided what I wanted from Belle Stuart yet.

  “I’m not a man who likes to wait,” I advised her. “You would do well to remember that.”

  “Of course.” She inclined her head, but I caught her eyes flash.

  Belle Stuart didn’t like to be chastised. That was unfortunate given how much I enjoyed reprimands.

  Extending my arm, I motioned to the leather cigar couch. “Join me. There’s paperwork to discuss.”

  I found the folder that contained the various documents and contracts I required her to sign without taking my eyes from her. She lowered herself onto the couch, her hands smoothing down her backside as she sat. Her grey skirt was slightly too tight or had been altered to hug her ass in a way that made me want to find the tailor and give him a bonus. She crossed her legs as I took a seat next to her, her hands folded in her lap.

  Mixed signals.

  Dropping the papers on the oak coffee table, I leaned back, dropping one arm over the back of the couch. Her posture stiffened. I wasn’t touching her. Not quite. But she had reacted all the same.

  Interesting.

  “Given that you will be accompanying me to a variety of business meetings, you’ll be required to sign a nondisclosure agreement as well as an arbitration agreement.”

  “Arbitration?” Her eyebrow notched up.

  “Basically it means you won’t sue me without trying to work things out first.” It was common new hire paperwork, but all of it was airtight. It protected me and my business.

  “I think I’d just blackmail you instead.” Her cherry red lips curved into a smile, and I realized she was joking.

  “I wouldn’t recommend that,” I told her in a low voice.

  The amusement vanished from her eyes, and she leaned down to gather the contracts, treating me to a glimpse down her blouse. Her tits were on the small side, B-cups maybe. Big enough for a mouthful.

  I drew a pen out of my suit pocket and dropped it on the table. I could have handed it to her, but now she would be forced to lean over again.

  “You mentioned dinners,” she said as she scanned the pages. “Will they all be business-oriented or will some be for pleasure?” Her cheeks went pink and she gasped. “I mean, will we be dining with your friends or only your clients?”

  “Some men believe in keeping business and pleasure separate.”

  “And you?” she asked breathlessly, her eyes lifting to mine.

  “I’ve always enjoyed mixing them.”

  She broke the stare first, trying to cover her restless fidgeting by flipping to the next contract. “So you will need me frequently in the evenings?”

  “And on weekends,” I added. “Is that an issue?”

  “A girl has to have a life.” She shrugged, but I noticed color still stained her face.

  “This position is more of a lifestyle. I think you’ll find if you flip to the last page that the salary and benefits are more than adequate recompense for your time.” I waited as she searched for the offer I’d purposefully placed at the end of the paperwork.

  A desperate girl would have already asked what I was paying her.

  A stupid girl would have signed the contracts before I told her.

  Belle was neither desperate nor stupid, but she wasn’t exactly trusting. That was why I had hired her in the first place, despite the dangerous attraction I’d felt toward her from the moment we met.

  She studied the page silently, not speaking until her eyes had reached the end. “This is too much.”

  “Most people would already be signing the contracts and waiting for their first cheque,” I said dryly. The salary I was offering her was part of a message: I expect loyalty. Six figures, a private driver, an expense account—that was the price I was willing to pay.

  “I’m not a whore, Mr. Price. I can’t be bought. This isn’t the kind of money you pay an assistant.”

  “Perhaps not.” It was my turn to shrug. “That’s the second time you’ve referenced your unwillingness to sleep with me as part of the job. Let me assure you, Belle, I have no interest in fucking my employees. I don’t need to pay a woman to spread her legs.”

  Her eyes found the floor. I leaned forward, dropping my elbows to my knees to find her downcast face.

  “Are we clear?”

  “Yes.” Her jaw tensed as she nodded. “Now let me be clearer, I don’t spread my legs, Smith.”

  I couldn’t keep myself from grinning. Some men disliked a sharp tongue. I enjoyed the sting.

  “I would be disappointed if you did,” I said simply, surprising myself. “Regardless, it’s a nonissue.”

  It was far from a nonissue. She wasn’t trying to warn me away, she was attempting to convince herself. The flush on her cheeks had crept down her neck and blossomed over the swell of her breasts. She bit her lip, as if she was also picturing my mine sweeping over her collarbone and brushing up the curve of her neck until my own teeth sank into her plump lower lip.

  Belle cleared her throat, effectively bringing us both back to reality. I lounged into the corner of the couch, shifting my leg so that it bumped against her knee. She shuffled the papers and sucked in a breath, but she didn’t move. Our legs stayed pressed close, separated by the silk of her stockings and my wool slacks, but I could feel the heat radiating off of her.

  The trouble was that Belle Stuart didn’t want to sleep with me. She wanted to be taken. She wanted to be fucked hard. Her whole body screamed for it, but until her head caught up with the rest of her, I’d be happy to continue this little game of foreplay. And there was the fact that she’d been hired to assist me. Sex would complicate that. It would also break my only rule when it came to women: no strings. I preferred quick, clean one-night stands or a carefully screened escort. This woman was currently signing a contract that legally bound us together. It was almost as bad as marriage. Better to keep my distance.

  I stood and noticed the room immediately felt cooler, but I loosened my tie anyway. There was no need to be completely formal around her. It would set a strange precedent. My last assistant had brought me my coffee in bed each morning. I chuckled as I considered the uppity Ms. Stuart having to bring me breakfast. She was going to appreciate that I slept nude, and I was going to enjoy her trying to hide her excitement.

  “Is something funny?” she asked, her body turning to follow my movement as I crossed the office.

  “A lark.” I waved my hand dismissively. “Nothing important.”

  “I love a good joke.” She called my bluff, tilting her head to watch me.

  I opened my desk drawer and drew out a small white box. “I’m still deciding on the punch line.”

  “You’re easily amused then.”

  “Hardly.” I returned to her and held out the box. “It’s merely that the subject fascinates me.”

  “Perhaps we share a common interest.” Her hand skimmed over mine as she took it from me. Cool and soft—the velvet touch of a woman.

  My cock stirred, drawing my mind to thoughts of that delicate hand wrapping around it. “I feel certain we do.”

  “But you still won’t share.” Each word was pointed—laced with a meaning that I understood instinctively. Whatever was passing between us was primal. An undeniable force of nature pulled us toward one another. I needed to shove my dick in her and fuck her un
til she was full of me. And she needed to be taken, held down—possessed.

  Instead I waited as she lifted open the lid to reveal a new phone.

  “I have a phone,” she said, even as her fingers traced the champagne gold frame.

  I’d chosen correctly. Even if she was going to pretend to be obstinate, it was obvious she liked it. Something had told me Belle liked the small touches—the hint of luxury. She was a woman with taste.

  “This phone is for me. Only I will have the number, and you will keep it with you at all times.”

  “What’s next? Are you going to take me home and chain me to your wall?” she asked in a flat voice, shoving it toward me.

  Belle’s slender neck collared and chained. It was going to prove difficult to hide my erection if she kept planting ideas like that in my head. I took a small step behind the couch, forcing her to swivel around. The tufted back wasn’t nearly high enough to hide my rock hard dick.

  She kept her hand thrust in the air, but I shook my head. “May I ask you a question?”

  “Obviously.”

  Jesus, she was even sexy when she pouted.

  “Why take this job if you so obviously loathe me?”

  Her pretty little mouth fell open. “I don’t…I’m not sure why…I don’t even know you.”

  “And yet you’ve made plenty of assumptions,” I pointed out. “You assume I want to sleep with you. You assume I think you’re a prostitute.”

  “I didn’t say that—”

  “Actually you did.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you want a beautiful woman hanging off your arm.” Her arms folded over her chest.

  “It’s nice to see a woman with confidence. Men grow tired of pretty girls acting ignorant of their looks. I don’t dispute that’s the case, but I also hired you because you’re Oxford educated, are well-bred, and more than capable of meeting my demanding schedule. Or am I wrong about those things?” I asked, savouring the opportunity to call her out.

  “I am all of those things.” She stood and snatched the phone from me. “And much more. I simply don’t want to be an expensive accessory.”

  “I assure you that I’ll work you hard.” I didn’t bother to keep the insinuation out of my voice. “Harder than you’ve ever experienced before.”

  “I look forward to the challenge,” she breathed.

  Christ, did she have any sense of self-preservation? She’d spent the last half hour dangling herself like meat over the lion’s den and poking the beast when it came near. She was lucky not to have been eaten alive. It was all I could do not to pounce.

  “A driver will pick you up in the morning.” I wanted to step closer to her—to see what she would do when she was riled up—but the sofa provided a solid barrier. I’d never been so grateful to a piece of furniture before.

  “About that. I can take the Tube or catch a cab. I’m not certain a driver is necessary.”

  “I decide what’s necessary.” I ignored her protest. She’d learn soon enough that I wasn’t one to make requests.

  Her eyes narrowed, but her mouth clamped shut. It was a shame actually. I quite liked when it was open.

  “Anything else?” she snapped, rounding the couch. She jerked her purse over her shoulder and stared me down.

  “Yes. Keep your phone on.”

  Flashing me a fake smile, she pivoted and marched out of the room.

  A breath I didn’t know I’d been holding released, and I lumbered back to my desk. Sinking into my chair, I stared at the door she’d just walked through. Her perfume still hung in the air. Hiring her was a mistake. I knew that now. This was proving to be less a game than a test. One I was certain I was failing. I’d seen her file. I knew exactly why she was erecting a barrier between us. I’d always been able to do the same. She wasn’t the first attractive woman I’d hired for this position. All of them had eventually offered themselves to me, and I’d refused each of them.

  But I had no doubt that if Belle had wagged her finger, I’d have had her pinned to the wall five seconds later. Keeping this professional might prove impossible so long as my thoughts continued to center around breaking her. I wanted to dismantle her walls until I freed the wild creature she had locked away. I wouldn’t be satisfied until I claimed her.

  Which was why I never could.

  I slid open my desk drawer and drew out a picture frame. Running a flannel cloth over the glass, I stared into the eyes looking back at me. They were so alive, so bright.

  “Why haven’t I fired her?” I asked the photo, but no one responded.

  No one ever did.

  She moaned as I pushed her legs open, her teeth biting into her full bottom lip. Nice and slow—that’s what she deserved. But as I sank inside her, burying myself deeper, my pace quickened until I was slamming into her. God, she felt fucking amazing. I wanted to tell her that, but there was no way she’d hear me over her screams. This was where I belonged. I knew that now.

  Slipping my arm around her waist, I flipped her over, eager to get a view from behind. Instead, I jolted awake, drenched in sweat and facedown in my sheets. Alone. It was only a dream. The realization was as unwelcome as my empty bed. My hands fisted into the feather pillow over my head, ready to rip it apart in frustration. Immediately a sharp sting prickled through my palm. I fumbled for the remote I kept on my bedside table and hit the button to draw the curtains. Light seeped in as the blackout drapes that kept the room in absolute darkness automatically opened. The hollow shaft of a feather had poked through the pillow casing. I plucked it out and stared for a moment at its downy tuft. Softness with a hint of pain. There was a certain poetry to it. I blew it into the air. Then found my mobile on the nightstand.

  SMITH: Coffee. Black. Garrison will pick you up in five minutes in front of your flat.

  We hadn’t discussed important items like my morning coffee yesterday, or what time I expected her at my house each morning. Personally, I’d been too distracted by wanting to fuck her. Now I didn’t have coffee, and I still wanted to fuck her. I groaned as I rolled over, liberating the rock hard erection I’d awoken to. Maybe it was better that she hadn’t been here to wake me up this morning. Then again, it was a shame not to put this to good use.

  BELLE: Do you have any idea what time it is?

  SMITH: Time for coffee.

  My free hand stroked my shaft as I responded. There was no way I was getting off this easily. The only cure for morning wood was a warm pussy. Although I imagined her tight ass would do just as well.

  BELLE: Tell this Garrison i’ll be ready in twenty minutes.

  SMITH: You have five.

  BELLE: Go back to sleep and wake up on the right side of the bed.

  I could hear the annoyance in her message. She definitely had the wrong stick up her ass. I had another one in mind. My cock twitched in agreement.

  SMITH: Wake up and do your job.

  BELLE: You can keep yourself occupied for half an hour.

  I considered snapping a pic of my dick in hand to show her exactly how I would be occupying that half hour. It might actually get her here faster. Then again she might never show up at all. It was difficult to read her still. Generally that wasn’t a problem I had around people, particularly women. It’s what made me a good lawyer. I knew she wanted to fuck me. It was written all over her body. Of course, it shouldn’t surprise me that she was going through a man-hating phase given the information the background check had revealed. It wasn’t like I was going to be the man who would heal her, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t help her rebound if I had the chance.

  Thinking like that was going to get me into trouble.

  In fact, I didn’t need to be thinking about it all. She was my assistant. I’d never fucked assistants before. This was different. Our professional ties should reign me in, but I knew they wouldn’t. If only I hadn’t seen how responsive her body was during that interview. I was already imagining harnessing it—controlling it. Belle Stuart wouldn’t be a simple fling. Not
with the things I wanted to do to her.

  Which is exactly why you need to take a cold shower.

  I yanked the pillow from under my head and threw it across the room. Apparently I had a half hour to get my head—and my dick—under control.

  She’s a means to an end, I reminded myself as I started the water a few moments later. As long as I remembered that, I could keep myself from touching her. It was that simple.

  “Who are you kidding?” I asked the empty bathroom. “It’s that complicated.”

  Then I turned the heat down a few more notches and stepped inside.

  I needed to quit this job. That much was already clear. Smith Price might get his rocks off on ordering me around, but there was no way I was going to let him. The trouble was that I needed this job and its completely ludicrous salary.

  The salary page from yesterday’s contracts floated to mind. So many zeroes behind that two.

  Okay, so I couldn’t quit. Not yet. A few months of putting up with his bullshit, and I would have the capital I needed to finance my business plan. In the meantime, I would be setting up some clear boundaries, like more than a five-minute notice that he expected me dressed and ready to head out the door.

  Jane appeared in her doorway and rubbed the back of her neck. “Starting this early? We shouldn’t have had so much wine last night.”

  “Apparently I’m on call at all hours,” I grumbled as I shoved bobby pins in my hair. There was no time to wash it. I had no intention of actually meeting my new driver outside in five minutes, but I didn’t want to risk being later than ten minutes. Checks and balances. “I’m sorry I woke you up. Mr. Price needs his morning coffee in bed.”

  “A demanding man waiting for you in bed.” Jane bit back a smile. “If you decide to quit, I’m available for the position.”