“Look, I have to go,” she heard him say. “We'll talk about it at the next meeting, alright?” He hung up the phone, stuffed it into his pocket, and proceeded eat a spoonful of his stew. She took that as her cue to walk past as though she had only just come out of the restroom, a smile plastered on her face like she didn't hear something that she wasn't supposed to.
“Sorry about that,” she said apologetically as she returned to her seat. He smiled at her like nothing suspicious had just happened and he wasn't keeping some deep dark secret. She sincerely hoped he wasn't, she thought as she picked up her chopsticks and began to silently slurp some noodles. She practically moaned when she tasted the broth that the noodles had soaked in, and eagerly tucked into her meal with gusto, unaware of how hungry she had been until she tasted the food.
“It's perfectly alright,” he laughed as he watched her enjoy her food. Taking another mouthful of stew, he let out a moan of pleasure of his own as he chewed on it. “Can't say I blame you for enjoying your food so much,” he said once he'd swallowed his mouthful. “This is delicious. What about yours?” he asked.
“This is the best pho I've ever had from this town,” she said as she began to nibble on some of the vegetables that were stewed in the broth.
“From this town? You've had better elsewhere?” he asked, surprised. She nodded around another sip of the broth.
“Homemade from a friend of mine whose mother was from Vietnam, and made every part of it from scratch. Even used her own vegetables from her garden. Sometimes, you just can't beat homemade,” she said with a definitive nod. He laughed and sipped at his tea.
“I can't say that I blame you; no matter where I have it, I still prefer homemade chicken and dumplings, even to the restaurants that I own that make it!”
They shared a laugh as they tucked into their respective meals, chatting amicably amongst themselves. They made small talk, about them, about the interview, about what restaurants David owned in the town, and his plans to expand ever outward. Eventually, that led to talk all about their jobs in general, how Angela was so dissatisfied with her current one, and how much she was looking forward to her new job with him as his new assistant. Eventually, Angela's curiosity got the better of her, and she found that she couldn't keep from asking the one burning question in her mind, and given that they were talking about their careers, and her impending employment with him, there wasn't a smoother transition that she could think of.
“I'm wondering something,” she started as she polished off her strawberry lemonade.
“Oh? I have no doubt,” he laughed. “A woman like you is quite the inquisitive creature, and I'm sure you've been dying to ask about whatever it is that's on your mind.” He waved a hand. “Ask away.”
“Is what...” she shook her head and tried again. “Is the relationship that we have now going to continue once I start working for you?”
“Do you want it to?” he answered her question with one of his own, which surprised her, if she were being honest; she hadn't thought of that one. But even without thinking of the question before he asked it, she knew the answer, deep down.
“I would like it to, if that's at all possible,” she said with a nod. “I'm attracted to you, and I meant what I said before – I want to see where things go with you.” She set her glass down. “But if that's not what you want, I can be completely professional, and we can go on as if nothing happened between us.” She held her breath and waited for his answer, not realizing just how worried she had been about that possibility until she gave voice to her concern. She really was quite taken with him, and ending things before they truly got their start would be nothing short of devastating to her.
“Oh, believe me,” he said with a broad grin that slowly spread across his face, as though whatever emotions she was displaying in her facial expressions were pleasing to him. “I fully intend to see things through with us,” he gestured between them. “Granted, once you officially begin working with me, we'll at least have to have the pretense of secrecy as we go about our business,” he was quick to amend. “But that's absolutely a simple thing to do. And if word gets out,” he shrugged, “then word gets out, and we deal with it. It's not as though it would destroy me to have people find out about us; it's hardly uncommon for assistants to assist in more...personal matters.”
“Well,” she said with a giggle. “They are called, 'personal assistants' for a reason, I suppose.”
David threw his head back and laughed at her joke.
“I suppose they are,” he said, still smiling from the laughter. As the waitress came and cleaned up their dishes and he paid for the meal, he dabbed at his face with a napkin. “Come on, I'll drive you home; you've no doubt got some work to do, if you want the interview to be finished as soon as possible so you can finally leave that bastard you're working for.”
She nodded, grateful for the chance to get started typing out what was recorded during this session.
“We can finish up the last part of the interview on another day this week – I'm available at three o'clock on Wednesday, if that works for you?”
“That's perfect,” she said with a nod. “We could finish up the interview in your office, if that's alright? I can drive there to meet you.”
“Marvelous,” he said as they rose from their chairs to leave. “I'll have my secretary pencil you in, just to make it official.” They both chuckled as they left the restaurant and headed to the parking garage. Once they went to the elevator and called it forth, they waited in comfortable silence for it to arrive. With the telltale ding that signified its arrival, he put a hand on the small of her back and guided her inside as the doors slid open.
As the elevator doors shut, David pressed her against the back wall of it, pressing his mouth to hers and kissing her soundly, sipping at her bottom lip with his teeth. She moaned into the kiss, feeling the sense of Deja vu that comes with remembering that it was only about an hour ago that they were in this very position, but this kiss was very different from the last one. Their last kiss in this elevator had been about riding out a high from orgasm, for both of them, and she knew it; it had been lazy, drawn out, and wonderful. This kiss was entirely different – it was about dominance and commanding her arousal, and she had to admit, it was working. A fire had been lit in the depths of her belly, and the flames now licked at her insides from how much she wanted him to fuck her again.
“I could fuck you right here,” he said with a growl into her neck. “I could pull you out of the elevator and have my way with you again.”
A thrill of excitement ran up her spine at the possibilities that he was presenting her. And then, all at once, he was gone from her, standing beside her like nothing had happened. It took everything she had not to let out a growl of her own in frustration.
“But I have appointments to keep, and I promised I would get you home so you could get to writing. Perhaps another time,” he said as though it were perfectly easy for him to just turn off his arousal. If that were the case, she thought, she felt incredibly jealous of him, and wanted to know how he did it.
As the elevator opened and they stepped out to where his car was parked, she felt like she was burning up from the inside out, and that she needed release as soon as possible. The slight teasing from their kiss had made her wet, and she struggled to stay focused as they made their way to the car; the constant movement of her legs was rubbing her labia together, and her juices were beginning to trek sluggishly down her thighs.
Thankfully, the drive home was far less charged than she had been anticipating. As her arousal was put on the back burner and she slowly came down from her arousal induced high, her thoughts returned to the phone call that she caught a small piece of, and what it could mean.
It could very well have been related to a show, or some kind of a project, as he had said; it was something that was being discussed at the next meeting, and so that was entirely likely. On the other hand, this, 'next meeting,' could also be just a meeting betwee
n everyone involved in something that wasn't entirely on the up and up, and might even be related to his former assistant's death. The thought didn't sit well with her, and she did her best to put it out of her mind, at least for the time being. She had nothing concrete to go off of, and it was entirely possible that she was doing nothing but worrying over baseless speculation.
As it turned out, putting it out of her mind was easier than it probably should have been, as the memory of his kiss reignited thoughts of his fingers inside her, the way his cock felt deeply seated in her core, and how much she loved the feeling of being stretched around it like a canvas. She squirmed in her seat, frustrated that he hadn't fucked her in the parking lot again; he had no reason not to, as it was a private parking area, and she had proven that she could keep herself quiet and be an obedient lover. It might be another one of his power plays meant to make her want more, and she hated how much it was working with her so far.
He kissed her as he dropped her off, and she went to her door in a daze. Kaitlyn wasn't home from work yet she realized as she kicked off her heels and made her way to her bedroom. She took her time undressing intending to throw on some more comfortable clothes, enjoying the way that every subtle shift in the fabric seemed to build more tension in her core, and a greater demand for release because of it. At last naked once she had shed her undergarments, she decided that she didn't necessarily have to redress herself nearly so quickly as she had first intended; it was warm in the house, and she was feeling incredibly frisky.
Throwing herself on her bed with a huff, she rolled over onto her back and let her fingers wander wherever they wanted to, tweaking a nipple here, pinching a hip there, until one of the clever little things finally snaked its way slowly down to her sopping wet channel. She started to lazily stroke herself, her finger circling her clit. She arched her back into it, letting out a gasp of pleasure. All she could imagine was the way that David's thick fingers felt inside her, how good it felt to be fucked from behind, and the thrill of possibly being caught doing something so taboo in such a public place. The sensation was enough for her to be driven over the edge. She rode out the waves of her orgasm like a captain rides the tides of the ocean, rolling her hips in rhythm with her pulses until she had calmed herself.
As she pulled on an oversized shirt and some yoga pants on, she wondered when Kaitlyn was going to come home from work, and how much she would like some tea. Deciding that she probably would so they could sip at it while they talked about their day, she walked out into the kitchen and started the electric kettle after taking it to the sink to fill with water. Her timing couldn't have been more perfect, as she heard Kaitlyn walk in the front door just as the kettle turned off, the water now at the optimal temperature for steeping their tea in.
“Welcome home, hon!” she called out as she set the tea bags in two mugs.
“Hey, girl!” Kaitlyn hollered back from the living room, where she had no doubt tossed herself into her favorite oversize chair. Angela's prediction proved correct, she noted with a smile as she rounded the corner from the kitchen and into the living room with the two mugs of steaming hot tea. She had arched her legs over one of the arms of the chair, and tossed her head back over the other, eyes closed as she decompressed from her day at the Bugle.
“How was work without me?” Angela asked. Kaitlyn raised her head to answer, grinning at the tea cups she was holding and accepting the offered one with no small amount of gratitude.
“I think Boss Man knows you're leaving, or at least, he suspects it,” she giggled over the rim of her mug. “He asked about you, and how the interview was. When I told him that David had taken a real shine to you, he turned white as a ghost!” They both snickered at the thought, and Angela began to outright laugh louder when she pictured it – there was something so satisfying about thinking about her asshole of a boss squirming that made her outright cackle as she relished in the feeling of finally coming out on top of it all.
“Good,” she said once she'd wiped away the tears that had formed from how hard she had been laughing. “Let the bastard squirm. It's not even close to payback for all the shit that he's pulled, but it's a start,” she said with a smirk.
“Oh, believe me,” Kaitlyn said as she partook of her tea. “I'm right there with you – I'm interviewing with The Margin tomorrow to see if they'll take me on as a reporter.” She softened her smile. “Turns out, what happened to you has happened to enough other people that the other companies just don't give a shit anymore about what the Planetary Bugle has to say about their employees.”
“Good,” Angela said spitefully as she downed her tea like an alcoholic takes their liquor: all at once, without caring if it burns on the way down. “It's the least that he deserves,” she sighed and set her mug down. “I've just got to get through this one last interview, publish it, and then I'll be out of there for good.”
* * * *
Wednesday came sooner than she had thought it would, and it had seemed like she had only just blinked, and she was suddenly putting on makeup for her final meeting with David to finish up his interview. She couldn't help the swell of giddiness that filled her chest, knowing that the next time that she would see him after this, would be to discuss her permanent employment as his personal assistant. As she drove over to the Westley Entertainment building downtown, she found that it was hard to keep professional when she was so close to never having to deal with the Planetary Bugle ever again.
By the time that she parked her car in the parking garage next to the building and made her way inside, she was positively bouncing in her flats with eagerness to just be done with this damn interview so she could start the rest of her life. She was so caught up in her bubble of happiness that she almost didn't hear the bubbly greeting coming from the receptionist.
“Oh, hello, I have an appointment with Mr. Westley—” As she looked up, she swore the breath was stolen from her lungs. In place of the less than enthused receptionist from the first day she was here, was a bubbly young woman eager to prove herself. A completely different woman.
Unbidden, the thought that there was another death in the company came to her mind, and she found that she wasn't so excited anymore.
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As the elevator doors opened to reveal the same grand top floor that Angela had entered not that long ago for the first part of the interview that would change her life forever, she sighed lightly and tried not to get too excited that this would be the final session. Finishing this interview and publishing it would herald the end of her time with the Planetary Bugle, and bring forth the start of her work with Westley Entertainment as David's personal assistant.
Well, his personal assistant in more ways than one, she thought with a grin.
There, seated at the solid wood executive's desk centered in the back of the room, was David, cleaning his glasses as he stared intently at his computer, no doubt working on some sort of business venture or another type of work related task. She walked up to the desk wordlessly, observing him and his movements with interest. As she neared, he looked up from cleaning his glasses and threw her a broad, almost predatory grin as he slowly slid his glasses back on his face. She swallowed at the action, and hated that he knew how much he affected her but loved it all the same. If she was good, after all, she just might be rewarded for her efforts later, she thought as her smirk grew into a smile.
“Mr. Westley,” she addressed in a clear, crisp tone that had just enough of a flirtatious lilt to it that he knew that she was clearly in the mood for more than just finishing up the interview. As he swiveled his chair toward her fully, his forearms resting lightly on his desk, she wondered if he would actually give her what she wanted today, or if he would make her wait until another time.
“Ah, Ms. Angela Parker,” he noted with a smug grin. He clearly knew the effect that he had on her, and what she wanted out of him today, she thought wi
th an internal sigh. “So glad you could make it for this last part of the interview. Would you like some coffee?”
“That sounds lovely, thank you,” she said, pulling her bag open and tugging out her digital recorder to set on the table, where it would be ready for them once they began the interview.
“Any particular type of coffee you'd like?” he asked as he rose from his chair and made his way over to the small table that held his coffee maker and all of the individual coffee selections to choose from.
“As long as it's hot, and I can put some sugar and cream in it, I'm not picky,” she said as she walked over to where he was standing beside the coffee maker, deliberately putting more of a swing in her step as she went. He was clearly enjoying the view, as he watched the way she moved with great interest, his pupils dilated in want for her. She smirked as she leaned in ever so slightly toward him, deciding that perhaps she could tease him just enough to entice him, to make him want her enough to have his way with her after the interview.
Or before, if she was particularly lucky.
“Of course,” he said with a grin as he turned away from her and plucked two single servings of the same coffee from their spot on the tray beside the coffee maker. “Caramel toffee blend it is, then.” Popping the grounds into the coffee maker and grabbing two mugs for them, he flicked the switch for the coffee maker to begin. As the machine began to gurgle to dispense their drink, he spun on her and drew her in close. “Now, then,” he grinned, gaze darting from her eyes to her lips and back, “I'm going to hazard a guess,” his voice rumbled against her chest, causing heat to flood her core, “that there's something you want from me?”
She swallowed thickly and nodded. His grin widened as he took in the way he made her feel, as he seemed to relish in it like usual.
“I hope you don't mind waiting until after the interview is finished,” he said with a deep, throaty chuckle. “After all, why celebrate when the job isn't quite finished yet?”
Hang Em' Up: A Bad Boy Sports Pregnancy Romance Page 109