Personal Assistant

by Cara North

  “I needed to burn some energy.” He could feel his chest rising and falling. He was aware of himself, aware of her, aware of the electricity flowing between them. Like magnets he could feel a pull towards her. His feet must have moved though he didn’t remember walking. He started to raise his arm and lean against the doorframe and thought better of it.

  She looked at him with those big brown eyes. “Where are your glasses?”

  “Contacts.”

  She stared at him unblinking. He looked from her eyes to her full lips, those lips that had surrounded his cock and sucked him dry only hours before. He clenched his teeth. She wouldn’t let him kiss her. He needed to play it by her rules. “It’s the weekend. You shouldn’t have to be here.”

  “I thought you wanted me here.” Her brow furrowed.

  He resisted the urge to reach up and smooth the crease with his finger. “I do. I just…I mean I need you here, but I didn’t ask if you had other plans. Maybe your friend, Shay wanted to grab a movie or lunch and I just bogarted your whole weekend in one text.”

  “I don’t mind. Besides, it’s my job to come when you call.” She seemed breathless. He seemed to be closer still. He liked having this effect on women. He loved having this effect on Frankie.

  “But you didn’t come, did you?” He had to cut to the chase. “Last night, you put my ass to sleep and then suffered in silence. I saw you this morning. I felt terrible. I didn’t treat you right last night and I think I should make it up to you.”

  She lowered her lashes and then licked her lips. She said, “I’m wet.”

  “So am I.” He smiled. “I’m drenched in sweat, Frankie but it isn’t stopping me from wanting you. Is it stopping you?”

  “No, you look hot all sweaty and disheveled. I look a mess. I probably stink.” She closed her eyes and shook her head.

  He could not resist, he leaned in and put his nose in her neck and inhaled the scent of her. Everything warm and womanly, her shampoo, her soap, her body lotion, sweat, the base scent of all that was uniquely her.

  “Okay, so maybe I’m not as sweaty as you are,” she said as he pulled back.

  He feigned offense, “Are you saying I stink?”

  “No,” she said. She was serious and he was still playing.

  “I think you are.” He smiled at her. Having her around was going to be fun. “And I think I’m going to squeeze you, Frankie and you are going to be covered in my sweat, and stink just like me.”

  She took a step back. He took a step forward.

  “Sir,” she warned.

  “Do you know what it does to me when you call me that?” He didn’t care anymore. He was going to say what he thought when he thought it.

  “No.” She shook her head as she took another step back into the hall.

  “I’m going to catch you, Frankie. You better run.” He watched her eyes grow wide as she realized he really was about to grab her up in a big hug against his body. He couldn’t think of anywhere else she should be than under his sweaty body, at least it would give him a reason to take her into the shower with him.

  “Jonas,” she said as she half turned. The next time she said his name she squealed it as she ran.

  The best part about chasing Frankie was the fact that she didn’t know where she was going. Ish ran barking past her and she followed. She ran right around a corner and into another room. Ish was already through the dog door and on his way to play in the doggie pool Jonas had made just for him. This room led out to the pool. Jonas caught her, lifted her right up and over his shoulder, and walked out the door into the California sunshine.

  “I dropped the phone,” she said with more panic than he thought she should. He was beginning to hate that damn phone and her attachment to it.

  He adjusted her body as he said, “Hold your breath,” right before stepping off the side and taking them both into the pool.

  He pulled her up with him and they surfaced. She pushed her long auburn hair back and blinked her eyes several times. “I think I lost a contact.”

  “Oops.” He moved closer to her. The cool water chilled his skin providing relief from the heat and the workout.

  She groaned in frustration, but a smile she could not hide was there nonetheless.

  “What am I going to do with you?” She spoke with one eye closed and the other opened.

  Feeling entirely too fresh for his own good, Jonas took a breath and sank below the water. He grabbed her and pulled her down with him. Under the water he pulled her closer, she pushed at his chest, but he was not having it. His feet hit the bottom of the pool. He bent his knees and pushed off sending them shooting upward. She grabbed at him and held his shoulders until they surfaced again.

  He slid his fingers along her forehead pushing the wet hair to one side. He wanted desperately to kiss her.

  “We have work to do,” she said. Both eyes closed. It would be so easy for him to kiss her. This close he noticed a few freckles sprinkled across her nose, the fine lines at the corner of her eyes, a small scar in her eyebrow.

  “How many times do I have to dunk you before you lighten up?” His lips were almost touching hers. He could feel the warmth of her breath, smell the spearmint.

  He could feel the beat of her heart thrumming strong, fast, and hard against his chest. Her breasts were pushed up as a result of being held so tight against him. He slid a hand down her back and around the lush curve of her ass down her thigh until he effectively got her legs to wrap around his waist. As soon as he could feel both of her thighs on his hips he took a deep breath and pulled her with him as he sank into the water.

  He held his eyes open and took in the sight of her as the water surrounded her. The long hair floating towards the surface as they sank further into the depths of the pool. Her grip tightened as his feet hit the bottom again and he pushed off to send them back into the sunshine, back into the air.

  This time she tilted her head as they surfaced and the hair slicked back on its own. Both eyes opened. Both squinting.

  He didn’t kiss her, but he did brush his lips briefly across hers. Such a fraction of a touch electrified him. He was so shocked by the intensity of the feeling he let her go. They pushed apart quickly, he was certain his expression matched hers. He was stunned, at least for the first few moments. She touched her lips with a hand. Her brows drew down. She was pissed.

  “If you do that again I’ll quit,” she said as breathless as she looked.

  The thought of her leaving him hit like a punch in the gut. He wanted to say something, anything other than what blurted out of his mouth. “Let me get it straight, I can put my dick in your mouth but not my tongue?”

  Her eyes widened then narrowed. “Ass.”

  The one word hung there as she turned and started swimming towards the shallow end of the pool and the stairs out.

  “Frankie,” he called. He groaned and turned to swim after her. She was pretty quick.

  “I hope my contacts clog up the filter,” she said as she walked up the stairs.

  “Why? You’ll be the one who has to deal with it if they do!” He was only half way to the stairs.

  “You…” She pointed at him and he had to admit she was pretty cute all riled up. “I didn’t think about that.”

  He dunked under the water so she didn’t see him laughing at her. She was already pissed, he wasn’t helping the situation, but oddly he was still enjoying it. Women didn’t get mad at him. At least not to his face. He was used to breakups coming via text, or worse, learning about it on Twitter. He needed to give her some space. He floated around the pool a while, talked to Ish when he came and sat next to the edge. Ish didn’t like the big pool, but he loved his doggie one. Ish headed back inside. After a while, he wondered how long he would be able to stay there before she came back. A few laps and no Frankie. A thought struck him as he was pulling himself up out of the water over the side of the pool. She might have actually left him.

  Soaking wet he started for the door. He was about
to open the door to the house entrance when she pulled it open. She was as startled as he was and took a step back.

  She had lunch and two scripts on a tray and a disgruntled expression on her face. He took a step back and let her pass. She didn’t say anything and neither did he. He didn’t want to make it worse. She was there. For now, it was all that mattered. He stepped into the room and grabbed a towel. Drying off as he approached the table he tossed the towel on the back of a chair and took a seat.

  The silence was eating at him. He picked at his lunch, a salad as he had requested via the damn calendar on the phone that was linked to his personal phone and calendar. The script sat untouched in front of him. She flipped through hers reading efficiently as she ate a sandwich, only pausing to take a sip of her drink. The silence continued. He would wait it out. Maybe it was his fault she was angry, but she didn’t have to be so damn mean about it. He wanted to kiss her, was that so bad? The memory surfaced, the slightest brush of her lips, the shot of adrenaline, lust, passion, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, all slipped through him and out of him at once.

  Frankie giggled and he saw a window of opportunity open up. “What?”

  She kept reading and the giggle turned to a laugh. “Here,” she said and handed him the script.

  One problem, he didn’t have his reading glasses. The only time he needed any assistance with his vision was when reading something more than just a few lines. He would have to read more than a few lines to find the lines she thought were funny.

  “Can you read it to me?” he asked. She looked up at him. She was wearing her glasses. She looked smart, sexy as hell. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, her shoulders a little pink from the small amount of time they had been exposed to the sun. He had to tell her. “You may or may not know that I kinda need reading glasses if I read more than a few lines at a time.”

  “I had no idea.” She pulled the script back towards her. “It’s not meant to be funny.”

  “But it is?” He chased an olive around the plate with his fork.

  “Why aren’t you eating?” she asked quietly.

  “I eat.” He stabbed the olive and ate it to prove so.

  Frankie sat the script on the table and looked at him with a very serious expression. He knew a talk was coming. One he didn’t want to have. She hadn’t even opened her perfect lips and his gut was already burning with anticipation of the end.

  “Jonas, you need to tell me what you want to eat so I can make it. You need to let me know you need reading glasses so I can bring them. I am here for you. I will do whatever you need me to do.”

  He believed her. His gut told him not to press the issue but he couldn’t help it. “Everything but kiss me.”

  “Yes,” she said it with the same candor and calm she had said everything else. “I don’t know if I can explain it. I know it doesn’t make sense how I can do one thing and not the other. From the outside looking in it might seem that kissing is less intimate than everything else. But for me, fucking is not the same as making love. I can fuck someone and not get connected to him. If I kiss someone, someone like you, I will get lost. I start to think a relationship exists where it doesn’t. I’ve kissed three people since I was seventeen. One of those was the guy I gave my virginity to. Shay, she actually taught me how to kiss in the first place. We never did anything else, so get that look off your face. What I learned from kissing her is that some kisses mean something and some don’t. Then there was my professor, my mentor, the guy who got me a job at the college. I didn’t kiss him at first and everything was fine. When I finally let him, I got confused. Kisses started to mean something. At least I thought they did when he kissed me, and I began to overlook the mediocrity of the rest. Apparently, they meant something to several of his students as well. It was years ago. I vowed then, I won’t let myself get muddled up like that again.”

  His heart pounded in his chest. He was jealous of people he didn’t even know. He understood what she meant. As an actor he had turned emotions on and off at will for love scenes. He had done the same for most women in his life, up until now. The one woman he wanted to kiss, because the thought of not kissing her actually hurt, didn’t want to kiss him. The irony of the situation stung.

  He scratched his chest, over his heart, the unfamiliar ache made his chest heavy.

  She looked at the script, looked at him as he turned his head to look at the pool. He could feel her eyes watching him as though she had reached across the table and touched him.

  “Where are your glasses?” she asked. “I’ll go get them.”

  “In the nightstand next to my bed. I usually read there.” He didn’t look at her. He couldn’t.

  “Jonas,” she whispered. She pushed out of her chair and stopped behind his chair. Her hand, warm compared to his still cool skin, stroked up his neck and into his hair. She pulled gently and his head followed her guidance. Her lips came down on the side of his neck and his jaw clenched. “If you want me to kiss you anywhere else, I will.”

  She let go of his hair, taking the warmth of her mouth, her hand, and her body with her. Jonas took a deep breath. It was fair. He didn’t know her enough to even think about love. He understood lust. He was definitely over the moon in lust with her. She was different. She was real. He looked at the salad, snorted, he felt like a joke. Frankie made everything around him more real. He understood how make believe could destroy a person. It had driven his parents apart. Acting was the only thing he knew. Maybe if his dad had been a carpenter he would be building houses. His dad was a director; his mother started as an actress then turned director, his sister an actress, his brother had been an actor, director, and was now a documentary film maker. Hell, he was practically born on camera. It didn’t make him any less real. His mood had turned melancholy under the circumstances.

  Frankie returned with his glasses. He didn’t want her to see him like this. He needed to clear his head, clear his mind. He wouldn’t be much company now and he didn’t feel like reading.

  “Frankie,” he said before she could sit down. “You should take the rest of the day off. Don’t you have somewhere you’d rather be?”

  He could see her mind working as she looked at him. He looked up at her, looked down at the table.

  “What about the scripts?” she asked.

  “If you come back tonight, or in the morning, we can work on them. I’m tired. I just want to kick back, watch some television, and go to bed. I don’t want you hanging around if you have or can make other plans.”

  She pursed her lips a moment, nodded. “Okay. I’ll call Shay. She wanted to catch a movie, but I told her I was working. I haven’t seen her in a few days and that is a few days longer than she is used to.”

  “You can always invite her here.”

  Frankie laughed. “Sir, my job consists of protecting your privacy. Shay, well, she is my friend, but she is never going to get security clearance, okay?” Another reason, a reason she tried not to think about, was because Shay made Frankie look like a peasant standing next to a princess. Everyone noticed Shay. Everyone.

  “Okay,” he said as he stood. Frankie started gathering the items on the table and he helped. He had done most of this stuff for himself prior to her arrival. He had a dog walker, a housekeeper, the works, but on the weekends he was alone, made his own meals, his own bed. He wanted an assistant because it was getting to be a lot to manage alone. He wanted an assistant because, if he dared admit it, he didn’t want to always be alone when he wasn’t working.

  He followed her into the house. She stood in his kitchen waiting for him to say something.

  “Have fun, Frankie.” He tried for a smile that failed.

  “Do you want to come with us?” she asked.

  He could tell she was worried about leaving him. Certainly this was a side she hadn’t seen in the papers, in the movies, or on television.

  He shook his head no, but the smile came easier.

  “I won’t be out too late.�
� She laughed as she walked towards the hallway leading to the garage entry. It wasn’t meant for him to hear but it got a laugh from him nonetheless as she said, “I haven’t said that since high school.”

  Chapter Six

  “Tell me everything!” Shay practically assaulted Frankie when she arrived. “What is Jo…”

  Frankie put a hand over Shay’s mouth and used her most serious tone, “Do not say his name out loud.”

  “Why? Is he Harry fucking Potter or something?” Shay asked after pulling Frankie’s hand away.

  “I’m pretty sure you have the wrong character,” Frankie laughed. They started towards the line inside the theatre to get popcorn.

  “Whatever! You know what I mean.” Shay pouted. “Tell me something. I made you apply for the job, Frankie, throw me a bone here.”

  “I got a good salary. I mean more than I made teaching which is kinda sad when I think about it.” Frankie shook her head. She didn’t want to think about it.

  “Not that, I knew that. Tell me how glamorous it is, Frankie. Tell me what it was like to get that gown and those earrings. Oh my God when I saw you, I immediately saw those earrings. Did you get to keep them? Who was the dress by? Why were you wearing your glasses?”

  Shay’s barrage of questions shot out like a machine gun full of bullets, too many at once, too fast to dodge. None of them about Frankie, all of them about the inside life of being Jonas Gunner’s personal assistant and one side comment of how she missed Frankie reminding her about appointments she kept missing in her absence. It dawned on her in that instant she had been Shay’s personal assistant for a while now and not getting paid for it.

  Frankie had never been so happy to see previews in her life. Until Jonas’s upcoming release hit the screen and his face, larger than life locked with another’s. His ex-girlfriend’s. That bitch who had stood him up. That whore who had shown up with someone else. That hooker who had a nose job in high school! Frankie knew of Ivy, when her name was Sara Milner. She was a few grades behind Frankie and Shay, but everyone knew her. Spoiled, selfish, she got the lead in every play because her parents had money and influence that Shay’s didn’t, at least not that much. They hated her the moment she usurped Shay’s spot as diva extraordinaire. Frankie looked over at her best friend sitting in the seat next to her. Shay was smashing the popcorn container with her furious grip.