Executive Assistant

by 12 Author Anthology

  He loosened his grip on her neck, slid his arm around her waist tenderly, but his other hand still kept her pressed deliciously against his hard cock, bulging in his suit pants.

  Chrissie savored the feel of his cock against her. She felt heavy with sexual need. Her panties were drenched. This man had some kind of hold over her body. It just did what it wanted when he touched her. She gazed into his eyes and saw sincerity, tenderness, lust. His words sent spears of excitement through her swollen pussy. Her clit felt huge. Hope suddenly filled her heart. He’s telling the truth.

  “You passed my office?” She knew it sounded inane.

  Dylan sighed.

  She saw affection flood his eyes.

  He nodded and kissed her mouth softly, whispering between phrases, “In the elevator, I didn’t mean to take advantage. I wanted you as soon as I saw you. I thought you wanted me. I…care for you. The sex meant something to me. I want you now. I need you now. You must know, feel me, hard as a rock against you. This week staying away from you was torture.”

  Chrissie nodded. She held his face and reached her face to kiss his mouth. Kiss the side of his mouth, move to his lips and linger there, just savoring the shape of them, soaking up the touch of his skin, the comfort of his nose against hers, the enticing, masculine scent of him.

  He let her ass go to unbutton her shirt as she kissed him.

  She knew what would happen, couldn’t wait to have his fingers on her nipples. She gasped against his lips as he pushed the lace of her bra down. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs stroking over the hard peaks. Streaks of pleasure wreathed her body. When he trailed a hand down her hip, and up her thigh under her skirt, she pushed toward him. Desperate for his fingers in her pussy, on her clit, she kissed him hard, bit his lips as his fingertips slid inside her panties. She moaned against his mouth. “Dylan, I do want you. I’ll be a wreck. I have an important client who could even be calling me, right now,” she murmured softly and kissed him.

  His fingers slipped on her cream, over her clit, around and into her pussy. A little sound escaped him as she kissed him and thrust on his fingers. He whispered against her lips. “Let me give you what you need, what we both need to get through the day, and then tonight we’ll talk, have dinner, talk, and…make love…”

  Chrissie nodded. She dragged the zip of his suit pants down and tugged them over his hips and bottom. She pulled his boxer shorts down, her breath coming in gasps as he finger fucked her, his head bent to her for her kisses, a muscular arm holding her up.

  She grasped his cock, stroked the lovely shape of it, the velvet head, the hard length. She moaned when he took his fingers from her pussy.

  He picked her up and brought her to straddle him as he sat on a chair placed near the shower cubicle. The towel draped over it slid off as Chrissie pushed aside the gusset of her panties and guided Dylan’s huge cock into her pussy. She slipped down on him as they gazed into each other’s darkened eyes. She kissed his open lips as she rocked on his cock. Slid up and down, using her high-heeled shoes for leverage on the tiled floor. She circled her hips and slid her tongue against his.

  He grabbed her hips and thrust her on his cock.

  They crashed against each other.

  Chrissie felt her orgasm hover and slowed her movements. She held Dylan’s broad shoulders and pressed down on his cock, deep inside her, the base of his shaft, hard against her clit.

  He moaned in her ear.

  Her orgasm took her over, made her hips thrust to milk the delicious sensation, and threw her head back as her breath left her. She sighed as the waves of intense pleasure gradually subsided.

  Dylan kissed her mouth gently, left her lips to suck each nipple that had grazed his chest, and then he held her hips and pounded his cock up into her pussy. He groaned, shuddering, and holding her tight as he came.

  They cuddled each other. A few moments passed as they caught their breath, their heads resting forehead to forehead.

  “I know where you live. I’ll come over at seven, pick you up, we’ll have dinner, talk and then…” Dylan whispered this as he smoothed Chrissie’s hair away from her face and held her head to kiss her between sentences.

  Chrissie smiled. The phrase, ‘I know where you live,’ amused her. “I’d like that.”

  Dylan sighed. “I should let you go. I don’t want to. You’re so sexy, so lovely. It would be great to strip you and give you a shower.” He smiled.

  Chrissie’s pussy clenched around his cock as she pictured them together naked.

  They both shivered, smiling with pleasure.

  Chrissie eased off him.

  Dylan held her around the waist to balance her. When she was standing, he got up and adjusted his clothes. “Do you want to take a few moments to wash up?” He left her in the bathroom.

  Chrissie ran cool water on a wad of tissues she took from a box on the shelf above the basin to wipe her pussy and the tops of her thighs. She bet her panties would be wet soon anyway if Dylan touched her before she left his office. She patted cold water onto her face, then used her hair combs to tidy her hair, before she put it up again.

  She went out to the main office.

  Dylan talked on the phone.

  She turned to leave, when he called out to her. “Chrissie wait, I’ll walk with you down to your office. That was the marketing manager from ‘Dogs R Us’ calling. You snared their advertising contract. Well done, Chrissie.”

  She smiled at him. “I’d rather you didn’t come down to the office with me. You’re very distracting.”

  Dylan grinned at her, his blue eyes twinkling. “Okay, but I’ll call by later to congratulate the team.”

  She opened the office door to leave. As she closed it softly, she heard Dylan’s phone ring again.

  Chrissie strode past the assistant’s office, without looking in.

  She ran down the stairs to her floor and collected a cup of coffee from the staff coffee lounge before she went to her office.

  There was a note on her desk. ‘Congrats, Chrissie, we’ve got the dog food contract. Yay.’

  ****

  At three-thirty, Chrissie and the team were discussing the production of the artwork for an ongoing campaign when Dylan showed up.

  Incredibly sophisticated and professional, he talked with the team, gave his congratulations, and stalked off.

  Chrissie watched him go.

  Pauline, one of the graphic designers smiled at Chrissie. “He’s gorgeous huh? You’ve caught his eye, I can tell.”

  Chrissie quickly denied it. “It’s because we just won the firm another million dollar contract.”

  Pauline shook her head, smiling. “If he asks you out, leap at the chance.”

  ****

  Dylan arrived at Chrissie’s apartment just before seven, a huge bunch of pink roses in his hand. He rang the doorbell smiling. He couldn’t wait to see her.

  Chrissie opened her door. She wore a short black sleeveless dress.

  Dylan’s heartbeat sped up. He gazed at her longingly. “You look gorgeous.”

  “Come in, Dylan.”

  He could hardly keep his hands off her as she put the roses in water. He traced her shoulder, the top of her arm and kissed her neck. “Chrissie, it’s important for me to tell you what happened and why I kept away from you. I made a dinner reservation. Let’s go before I pick you up, rip that lovely dress off you, and lick you all over.”

  Chrissie smiled. “Okay.”

  ****

  Dylan sat opposite Chrissie and sighed. “I’m in love with you. I know that for sure after a week of misery.” He told her what happened with the video. “I’ll leave the firm before I’ll give you up.”

  She reached across the table for his hands. “Don’t, Dylan. How will anyone know about us in the elevator if there’s no evidence? Who will tell?”

  Dylan shook his head mirthfully. “Search me. It’s all suddenly stupid, huh?”

  Chrissie nodded. “I’ll never tell. I’m in love with you too.
”

  He stood and dragged his chair to sit closer. He kissed her mouth, softly. “I want you forever now. I hope that’s okay with you. I’m so in love with you.”

  Chrissie slipped her hand along his jaw and whispered against his lips. “Let’s go home and you can show me.”

  ****

  Three months later

  Their group of colleagues and friends applauded after Dylan’s speech. He’d held Chrissie’s hand all the way through, and now after kissing her quickly, he raised her hand to show off the huge diamond ring on her engagement finger.

  His mom and dad were at the back of the crowd and smiled at him.

  Chrissie leaned into him. He let go of her hand to slide his arm around her waist. Music started and people began to wander onto the dance floor. Dylan crushed her against his chest and kissed down her neck.

  “Dance with me.” Chrissie’s whisper teased his ear.

  He’d prefer to carry her off home early from the party and make love with her, but he nodded. “If I can hold you close.”

  She snuggled against him. “It’s the only way to dance.”

  The End

  www.elodieparkes.blogspot.com

  THE TERMINATRIX

  Jean Maxwell

  Copyright© 2014

  Chapter One

  “Unfortunately, Laura, you are one of those people.”

  A vague smirk on Mr. Thompson’s face accompanied these words. Laura Dunn’s ears began to buzz, a dull vibration that grew louder and louder, clouding her perception. She couldn’t be hearing Thompson right. You are one of those people.

  The rumor mill had been spinning out of control for weeks. Red Wednesday. Black Thursday. When would the bloodletting begin? Sitting in an unfamiliar chair, in an even more unfamiliar office, facing the Regional Vice President, Laura had her answer.

  “What?” she asked stupidly, as if repeating the sentence would yield some alternate meaning. Thompson cleared his throat. His pale countenance seemed to confirm his intent.

  She was being fired.

  “I said, the corporate restructuring has impacted a number of people’s jobs. And you are one of those people. I’m sorry, Laura. Your position is being eliminated. You’ll be paid two weeks’ salary in lieu of notice, and a severance payment calculated on….”

  Thompson’s words were swallowed by a swelling cacophony of thoughts and sounds inside Laura’s head. This isn’t real…this can’t be happening. I’ve spent six years with the company… practically joined at the hip to the General Manager. I don’t even report to Thompson, why is he here? Did my boss get fired too? This son of a bitch has no right…no cause, to fire us!

  Thompson slid a sheaf of papers in a file folder across the desk, and stood as if to leave. “A transition counselor will go through this with you.” He patted his jacket pockets in a gesture of finality and moved toward the door.

  Coward!

  Laura sprang from her stiff-backed seat and lunged at Thompson. “How dare you,” she growled through gritted teeth. She reached for Thompson’s throat as he fell with his back against the closed office door. Interlocking her fingers behind his wattled neck, her kickboxing training took hold as she jerked her knee upward, bringing his balding head down hard toward her hip. His frail body bucked against the wooden door as she drove her knee deep into his gut.

  Flinging him upright again, she followed with two left jabs and a right cross to his chin. Sickening, hollow cracks sounded with each punch as his skull connected with solid maple.

  “Fuck the transition counselor! Fuck you! Fuck the company!” Laura shouted. Her words began to echo, repeating then fading. Company…company…company…

  ****

  Laura awoke with sweat filling the creases of her neck, strands of her long blond hair stuck in the wetness between. She panted in and out as though she’d run a marathon in her sleep. She swiped at her moist skin as she rolled over on her back, gasping for air.

  Shit. Even after two years, she still had nightmares about it. The day that was both an end and a beginning for her, that awful day when her world, and everything in it, crumbled around her.

  The day she’d been terminated.

  Ever since, only two words gave her strength. NEVER. AGAIN. Not to her. Not to anyone who didn’t deserve it. Laura sat up in bed, pulled her sweat-moistened hair into a messy knot atop her head, and took a sip from the glass on her nightstand. The cool water brought her mind into the present. This is not that day.

  Alert now, she chuckled at the vividness of her dream. Of course, she hadn’t really punched out a vice president. But it sure would have felt good to do so at the time. She wondered if Thompson had gotten the axe at some point later on, but she hadn’t kept touch with her colleagues much, and quite frankly, didn’t want to. Far too painful.

  Instead, she put her energy into freelancing. She picked up temp jobs and term contracts, which paid the immediate bills, but eventually developed her newfound freedom into something far more satisfying. Yawning, she rose from her bed and padded across the hall to her home office. Logging in to her laptop, a stream of emails began to download, the majority of them from terminatrix.com. Laura smiled wickedly, sat down, and clicked on the first one.

  Dear Terminatrix, I’ve lost my job to a younger worker. I’m pretty sure she slept with the boss, but can’t prove it. I want revenge. Can you help?

  Hmmm. She didn’t really do private detective work. She clicked on the next message.

  Dear Terminatrix, me and several co-workers got laid off last week. Today I find out they’ve brought in foreign workers to do our jobs. I’d like to get those assholes making these decisions. Please help us.

  More of a problem for the labor organizations. Next.

  Dear Terminatrix; Never thought I would need your help, but I’m desperate. Please call me. Kim 4167228198.

  Laura’s brow wrinkled in concern. That cell number belonged to her good friend, Kim Sullivan. Why would Kim be contacting her through her virtual-worker website? She dialed Kim’s number, but got a busy signal. Frowning, Laura read the remaining email requests, and replied to those that interested her. Revenge was sweet, and she’d become very good at it. The strange and wonderful world of the internet made it possible.

  Terminatrix.com wouldn’t be found by any search engine. It contained no pages, no metadata; it served only to direct emails through a third-party ‘virtual worker’ site, where customers could pony up five bucks for a ten minute consultation. From there, they could buy ‘extra’ services, once they understood exactly what she could provide.

  Plagued by an annoying sales rep that makes your life a living hell? Never fear. The Terminatrix could fill their cell phone so full of date chats and porn site subscriptions they’d have no time to pester you further. Harassed by an irritating co-worker always one-upping you? The Terminatrix could leave a devastating trail of embarrassing tweets and posts to keep them frantically repairing their social media status for months.

  But her specialty remained championing the wrongfully dismissed. She might not get jobs back for her clients, but she could make damn sure their former employers felt a little pain. Corporate website crashed? Oops! How terrible for them. Unexplained charges on an expense account? Oh, bad luck.

  Her prices varied depending on the situation, but she wouldn’t feel right taking money from Kim. Perhaps she could solve her problem just by doing what came naturally: be a friend.

  Chapter Two

  When Laura called back, a distraught Kim begged her to come over. Her voice sounded so weepy and miserable, she couldn’t refuse. En route to Kim’s apartment, Laura decided to pull into a coffee shop drive-thru. She dug in her purse for change as she glided up to the takeout window.

  “Here you are, ma’am,” the server said, handing her the coffee in its familiar red paper cup with the contest markings on it.

  “Thank you,” Laura said, accepting the cup and offering the coins in her hand.

  Smiling, the server s
hook her head. “The gentleman in the car ahead paid for your order, ma’am. Have a nice day.” The glass window slid shut.

  Stunned, Laura caught a glimpse of a white Lexus exiting the drive-thru lane and disappearing around the corner of the building. She’d heard about this phenomenon, but never actually witnessed it in action. She set the cup in its holder and followed, determined to thank this unexpected Good Samaritan.

  The Lexus turned into traffic from the coffee shop parking lot. Laura sped up, almost tailgating the vehicle as it came to a red light on the next block. She changed lanes in order to pull up alongside it. Her approach caused the driver to look over.

  Laura raised her cup in a toasting gesture. She opened her mouth to mimic the words ‘thank you,’ but it seemed to freeze open as she caught sight of him. Dark, curly hair framed his classically handsome face. He peered at her through a chic and very expensive pair of designer eyeglasses. A winning smile brought out charming dimples on his tanned cheeks. His passenger window began to descend. Laura fumbled for the button on her console to do the same.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, in answer to her unspoken thanks.

  Laura nodded. “Very kind of you,” she said, finding her voice. “Do this sort of thing often?”

  The stranger glanced sideways at the traffic signal, and back to Laura. “I like to pay it forward on occasion. Or backward, as the case may be.” The light turned green with an advance arrow. “Have a great day.”

  The window rolled up as he returned his attention to the road and pulled a left turn. She watched the car drive away. Her computer skills didn’t quite rank as high as hacking into the vehicle registry, but she made a mental note of the license plate just the same. She would certainly like to bump into this stranger again sometime. A horn honked, and Laura snapped to attention. She cruised through the intersection with a smile on her lips.