Executive Assistant

by 12 Author Anthology

  Needing to move, she rocked her hips. Dalton made a moaning-hissing noise that she took as a good sign, so she rocked her hips again and leaned over to nip his earlobe which jump-started his hips to pump faster. In and out they hammered each other, and Bellah wasn’t sure if it was him out of control or her. All she knew was how incredible it felt to be with him. His balls slapped against her ass as he moved her faster. She gripped her pussy walls around him so tightly there was a sucking sound as he pulled in and out.

  “Ah, Dalton,” she breathed just as her climax hit, coursing through her body with exquisite pleasure.

  “Bellah,” he gasped just as his body surged against hers, shuddering with each spill inside her. After a moment, he relaxed back down and pulled her sweaty body with him. She could feel both their hearts beating frantically.

  Chapter Five

  Monday he drove them to work and Bellah thought it might feel uncomfortable having people see them arrive together. But she forgot that Dalton always arrived before everyone else so some of her tension eased. She was going to have to retrieve her car from the sublevel at some point and she wasn’t sure how she was going to push her fear down to get it.

  The office was empty. They were the first ones to arrive, and right before she sat down at her desk, Dalton tugged on her hand and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her, a long drugging kiss that left her flushed and her panties a little moist for comfort. Good thing she brought a change with her.

  “Perhaps we can lunch together,” he said once he pulled back.

  She blinked, trying to wrangle her scattered thoughts together. “Okay.”

  He smiled and tenderly brushed a lock of hair off her forehead. She had to wear it down today since she didn’t have access to her own hair products.

  “Boss mode,” he warned her.

  “Assistant mode,” she replied and that was that.

  The work day was busy and she pushed everything that had happened over the weekend to the back of her mind. She typed up the Shepard Corporation contract and a couple of other things just as she promised on Friday. A couple co-workers found out about the attack and came up to make sure she was okay and by lunch time she knew she was going to have to face it…that area.

  She knocked on his door and waited until he told her enter.

  He smiled at her and glanced at his watch. “Lunch?”

  “Yes, but before we go eat I need to move my car.”

  He frowned. “Now?”

  She took a deep breath. “Yes. I don’t want to make the parking garage a place of hell in my head any longer.”

  “Okay,” he said softly.

  He walked next to her toward the elevator and rode with her down to the sublevel where her car was parked. She clutched her keys so tightly in her fist her knuckles were white. And when the door dinged open she didn’t move for a moment. She couldn’t. Terror blanketed her mind as she remembered what it felt like to have that stranger touch her, violate her space. She didn’t even want to think about what he planned to do with her.

  “I can do it, sweetheart,” Dalton said. “Give me your keys and go back to the office.”

  She shook her head. “No. I have to do this. If I don’t, he wins.”

  She stepped forward. One foot in front of the other. She looked at her car and then at the spot where the monster had finally let her go and she felt scared and brave at the same time.

  “Are you all right?” Dalton asked.

  She nodded and stopped at the back of her car. She looked at him. “He’s gone,” she said.

  He nodded.

  “All right,” she said and smiled. “Thank you.”

  “My brave girl,” he murmured and pulled her into his arms for a brief hug.

  She drove them to her new parking spot, right next to his, although her car certainly didn’t fit in with all the expensive high end cars around her. She didn’t care. She liked seeing their cars together. It was symbolic, in a way.

  Back in his office, he closed the door behind them and locked it before pulling her into his arms. His hands roamed over her body as he kissed her and she felt his cock harden under his slacks. When he pulled back to look at her, his dark eyes were burning with lust.

  “Shall I tell you one of my fantasies?” he asked, his voice deep and drugging.

  “I want to make all your fantasies come true.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, just you wait.”

  ****

  God, sex at the office. Here he was, about to break another rule in the employee handbook but he could really give a flying fuck at this point. Bellah made everything else disappear and he couldn’t wait to have her, here, in the place where he’d first met her.

  “I want to lick you and eat you until you come on my tongue. Will you let me pleasure you, sweetheart?”

  She whimpered and her hips rose upward in wordless agreement. Excitement surged through him, making his hands slightly shake.

  “God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he crooned.

  His hand left her ass and slid up her rib cage until he found the curve of her breast. He cupped the shape, molding her to his palm as he gently squeezed. Her nipple pebbled under the thin material and he traced over the turgid peak with his fingertip. She arched and gasped. That was when he lifted her and sat her on his desk. Papers scattered, pens rolled to the floor. God, it was so fucking hot.

  “Open for me, sweetheart,” he murmured enticingly.

  He pulled her thong aside until he was able to see her pussy, all plump and swollen with desire. Moisture glistened around the curls covering the hood. He ran a finger gently through them, barely brushing against her slit and a moan erupted from her lips.

  “Fuck, you’re wet,” he murmured. Then he kissed her, right on the spot he’d just touched and her hips jerked, bumping against him.

  “Oh, Dalton,” she moaned.

  “You taste so damn sweet.”

  He pressed his tongue against her again, as far as it would stretch, dipping a little into the slit. She moaned again and the little sound took him over the edge. He had to fully taste her now. He spread her with his fingers until he found her clitoris, and then proceeded to lick her. As soon as his tongue rasped against her sensitive nub, her body arched like it had touched a live wire. Her hands buried in his hair, pulling it almost too aggressively. But he loved it. It gave everything an edge that pumped through his blood, lighting him on fire. He licked and sucked her in, sliding one finger into her heat. She bucked against his hand. He pushed another finger inside and took her little clit between his teeth, sucking hard.

  He began licking, up and down, driving his tongue in and over her nub. She was panting, begging, pleading for more. Her body tightened beneath him and he could feel her quivering around his fingers.

  “Come for me, Bellah.”

  That was all she needed. She cried out as her orgasm crashed over her and he eagerly licked all her cream. He had never seen anything more sensual, more desirous, than Bellah in the throes of bliss. When her body finally relaxed and she sagged back onto the blanket, he eased up his torment but he didn’t withdraw from her. He was hard as fuck and wanted nothing more than to sink into her body, but Bellah must have had a different thought in mind because she slithered off the desk and onto her knees and holy shit, she was unzipping his pants and easing her hot little mouth over his dick.

  He wasn’t going to last long, that was for damn sure. Eating her out had caused his libido to go into overdrive and all he wanted to do was come long and hard and…oh, shit! Yes! That was what he was planning on doing right now.

  “Sweetheart, if you don’t want me to come in your mouth you better get off,” he warned.

  But she only sucked him more and so he let go, arching his back as white hot ecstasy shot through his whole body and he pumped jet after jet of cum into her pretty little mouth. Bellah took him deep and swallowed every drop and after a moment he was limp and sated but so very happy.

  He pulled her up from her knees an
d cupped her face to kiss her. He tasted himself on her lips but she probably tasted herself on his, so all was good.

  “Can we meet like this every lunch hour?” she murmured happily.

  “Definitely. God, I love you,” he said and she pulled back to look at him in surprise. He chuckled. “Did you believe I didn’t? I think I’ve loved you for almost two years. Did you feel that connection between us?”

  “Oh, I felt it. I wasn’t sure about you. I love you too, Dalton. So much.”

  “I’m really going to have to amend the employee handbook.”

  She just gave him an inquisitive look before he pulled her back into his arms. After all, they still had fifteen minutes before they had to get back to work.

  The End

  www.bethdcarter.com

  THE ONLY WAY TO DANCE

  Elodie Parkes

  Copyright© 2014

  Chapter One

  Chrissie worried about the interview all week. She tried on all her power outfits to find just the right one. She wanted creative, efficient, and dynamic, with a dash of sexy. Part way through the week she practiced the journey. She checked the company website. It overflowed with statements about how great ‘The Starburst Agency’ worked. The owner seemed to be called Mr. Starburst. Chrissie thought the company radiated energy. The interview was scheduled for ten in the morning. Great I’ll miss the rush hour. Less chance of being held up in traffic. Chrissie couldn’t sleep for two nights. She forgot things in fatigue. She left her dry cleaning ticket at home and the shop was closed when she dashed back to pick up her outfit.

  The night before the interview without her chosen outfit, she took out another business suit. She fished in her briefcase for her cell phone to set her wake up alarm, and couldn’t find it. Close to tears she searched her memory for where she’d last used it and remembered she’d put it on charge in her office that morning at the temp job she did currently. Chrissie set her electric clock radio to wake her. She didn’t expect to sleep, but she crashed into a deep sleep only half an hour after her head hit the pillow.

  The sun woke her. Its rays streamed through the window onto her face. Chrissie sat bolt upright. She looked at the clock radio. A row of red zeroes blinked on the digital display. In panic, she leapt from her bed. She ran into the living room and flipped on the TV. The news ticker reported a seven-hour power cut across the city. The morning news program displayed the time in the bottom left hand corner of the logo. She had forty-five minutes to shower, dress, and get to the interview. Chrissie took the quickest shower she’d ever had. She dragged on pantyhose, her bra, and the shell top that went with the skirt she chose the night before. With little time, she smoothed on a tinted face cream, and brushed a sweep of black mascara on her lashes. Her hair would have to do put up in a comb. At least she’d washed it the night before. She thrust her feet into the nude pumps that went with her jacket, snatched up her presentation folder and ran to the garage.

  Her hands shook on the steering wheel. She took deep breaths to calm down. She checked her look in the rearview mirror as she waited at the traffic lights. By the time she parked in the visitors’ area of the company car parking lot, she felt in control. Before she got out of the car, she slicked a layer of pale pink lip-gloss on, and threw the container back in the glove compartment.

  Her heels clacked on the steps up to the office glass doors. They opened automatically as she approached. Chrissie glanced at the clock situated above the reception desk. She had three minutes to get to the fourth floor personnel office. That ruled out taking the stairs, her preferred route. Chrissie hated elevators. She was claustrophobic. The receptionist gave her a badge to clip onto her lapel that proved her verified visitor status. Chrissie swallowed down her fear and went to the elevator doors. She pressed the button. As the doors opened, a man dashed up behind her to join her on the dreaded journey.

  Chrissie’s claustrophobia kicked in the second the doors closed. She shifted uneasily from foot to foot. She hadn’t looked at the man who’d entered the elevator with her at the last minute, but now she glanced at him. Chrissie took in the delicious sight to her right. Tall, very dark hair, well cut, well dressed, jacket that fit on his shoulders so that you knew he was muscled. Even in profile, his eyelashes were long, dark fringes, and his angular jaw the stuff of romance novels. Chrissie stared at him. Wow, he’s gorgeous.

  The elevator stopped. Chrissie’s stomach dropped a little as the elevator car glided the last few inches and the door slid open. The dishy guy had taken her mind off the confined space. She smiled as she walked down the corridor to the designated office. At the door, she realized the man was still with her. Is he having an interview too? His presence gave her a rapid heartbeat. Shyness flooded her as he leaned around and opened the door. He stood so close she felt his breath on her ear, a gentle tease. Her thighs clenched as he turned his head to speak, his face close to hers. Dark blue eyes held a kind expression. Kissable lips moved.

  “Hi, Chrissie Forbes, isn’t it? I’m Dylan Cross. I’m on the interview panel today. Go ahead.”

  Chrissie could hardly breathe, her reaction to this man was so strong. She opted to nod her agreement about her identity, and accepted the invitation to go into the room ahead of him. He’s on the panel. How am I not going stare at him or even speak coherently? Pull yourself together. He’s not that great. He is that great, but you’re a professional, an independent woman. Do you want this job or not?

  She went in the room, thoughts swirling and senses on fire from the lingering freshness of Dylan’s aftershave.

  A woman came around the desk to shake Chrissie’s hand. She introduced herself and the other member of the interview panel. “Martha Cooper and this is Sally Jones; you’ve met Dylan Cross. There’s water there on the desk. Please make yourself comfortable. We’ll each be asking you a question after your presentation.”

  Chrissie decided the best thing she could do was talk to the two women and keep her eyes off Dylan Cross. She shook Sally’s hand, unfolded her presentation, and began.

  Everything went great until it was Dylan’s turn to ask a question. Chrissie’s voice shook alarmingly as she answered. She took a drink of water to hide the fact she was so attracted to him it made her dopey.

  Then the interview was over. With smiles and goodbyes, she was suddenly out in the corridor. It was all over. Chrissie leaned against the corridor wall for a few moments. Fucking hell, I screwed up. What does that say when the sight of a gorgeous guy can reduce me to a quivering heap? She saw a water cooler at the end of the corridor and walked over to get a drink. Chrissie put her presentation folder on a nearby chair, and filled a paper cup with the cool liquid. She rolled the cold cup across her forehead so that it soothed her and then drank. Not only do I turn up seconds late, in my second best interview outfit, with hardly any makeup, I go to pieces on the last question. The last impression is what they remember, always.

  Sadly, Chrissie tossed the paper cup in the container alongside the cooler. It looked like the office recycled them. She picked up her folder and walked to where the elevator doors were, alongside the swing doors to the stairwell. As she pushed one side of the swing door open, she dropped her folder. The artwork fell about. A burst of annoyance brought a curse from her lips. She bent to pick it up, feeling dejected.

  She didn’t hear Dylan Cross approach on the thick carpet of the corridor, but his presence overwhelmed her when he squatted close by, and helped assemble the large, card mounted presentation.

  “You’re not in the best shape today, are you?” His deep voice held kindness.

  Chrissie felt inadequate, foolish. She stood as he picked up the folder. He was waiting for her answer, presumably.

  “The power cut gave me a late start. Not much has gone right since,” she told him as she brought her gaze to his.

  He grinned charmingly. “Me too, I was nearly late for this interview.” He laughed then. Little lines appeared by his eyes. He looked even more delectable.

&nbs
p; Chrissie stared at him. His laughter made him more approachable, a human being like her, and not some sex god to be in awe of. She smiled.

  He’d turned and pressed the button for the elevator. He would expect her to follow him. He held her folder.

  Chrissie went into the elevator with him. She stood next to him.

  “Ground floor, then?” he asked amiably.

  Chrissie nodded.

  The elevator descended a floor, slid halfway to the next and stopped.

  Chrissie’s terror rose up her body like a wave of ice-cold water. She lunged at the buttons and started to press them all. Her hands shook, and little whimpering sounds escaped her, as she panicked.

  Dylan Cross put the folder he carried for her down on the floor. He took hold of her hands and brought them to his chest. He held her fast there. “Don’t worry. It’ll start again in a few seconds. Hey, look at me.”

  Chrissie looked up into his face. She tried to be calm, but she felt faint. Her blood rushed in her ears. Her bottom lip trembled.

  Dylan’s eyes held a tender expression as he bent his head. He kissed her mouth, softly, gently. He lingered on her bottom lip and then started the kiss all over again, a tender, slow, kiss that took away the fear and replaced it with comfort. He kept hold of her hands as he broke away.

  Chrissie heard him sigh.

  “Are you okay? I wanted to take your mind off the elevator.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  “It helps to talk about ordinary things when you’re afraid.”