Personal Assistant

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Personal Assistant Page 10

by Cara North


  “This is my favorite shape to get you in,” he said. He lowered his face to hers, just barely an inch away.

  Her heart pounded uncontrollably. She wasn’t sure if he kissed her that she would stop him. His eyelashes, long, thick, sensuous, just like the rest of him, drew her attention and she unwrapped her crossed arms to stroke her thumb across one section of them.

  “You have gorgeous eyelashes,” she whispered.

  He moved his head and pulled at her glasses with his teeth.

  She giggled. “What are you doing?”

  “I’ve kinda got my hands full here. I can’t very well hold myself upright, pull this delightfully flexible leg up and over, and remove your glasses so I can see your eyelashes better. I hadn’t really noticed them. I get fixated on the color and…”

  Frankie removed her glasses and sat them safely aside.

  He pulled her leg higher, pressed his hips harder against her crotch and brushed his lips over her eye, tickling the lashes as he did. “They are a little stiff.”

  “Mascara.” She gasped as he thrust his hips against her again. “Clear, because I just…”

  “Hmmm, and here I thought you were just naturally beautiful.” He pulled her leg again as he lifted to settle at her side and pulled so that she was on top again.

  Frankie hated to admit that she started using cosmetics more in the past few weeks than she had used in her entire life. Normally she wore make-up for special occasions and a small amount for work. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to look camping, but whenever he was in public there was always a chance someone might take a picture. She didn’t want to be the homely girl trailing behind him on the phone. She was ashamed of her new found vanity. She wasn’t important and yet the standard was for everyone to look beautiful. Ridiculous.

  “Not everyone can be you.” She pressed her hands against his chest and slid them down to the hem of his t-shirt.

  ***

  Jonas closed his eyes as he let Frankie take over. How could she be so stupid and so smart at the same time? Brilliant, he knew that much, at least academically. When it came to common sense, the woman was oblivious to his advances. He wasn’t exactly great at courting someone. He had only courted women in the movies. Women came naturally, easily to him. He didn’t have to whip out the flowers and go knocking on doors. Frankie was perfectly fine just fucking him. It was a role reversal and he suddenly felt bad for the way he had managed relationships in his past. He was certainly reaping what he had sown.

  The moment her lips hit his navel he forgot all about his past transgressions and focused on the moment at hand. He pulled the shirt she had pushed up to his neck over his head as she unfastened his shorts. He had been called insatiable in the past. Frankie sated him. The desire never abated, but he was always satisfied, comfortable in his efforts. She let him learn her body and she took the time to learn his. Like now, when she curled her tongue around the head of his cock in that way she did.

  She still had every stitch of her clothes on. He wanted to stop her, to undress her, to watch her breasts swing free from the contraption that had them pressed against her ribs in strait-jacket like restraint. He wanted to touch the curve of her abdomen, sink his fingers into the flesh of her thighs. He wanted to do a lot of things, but at the moment, he couldn’t do more than gasp for breath and marvel at her expertise.

  Too quick he was ready to come. He opened his eyes and looked down at her. His abs jumped, tensed, his thighs clenched, his hand moved to grip his shaft and her lips hit his fingers hard, as if trying to press beyond them. If he didn’t know any better he would have thought she was trying to make it quick.

  “I need a minute,” he rasped out.

  She pulled her head up and let go with a popping sound. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.

  “You’re ready to come, Jonas. I know you are.” She traced a finger over the top of his dick and he fought to keep both eyes open.

  “But you…”

  “Enjoy this,” she said and he thought for sure she meant it. It was difficult to sift through the emotions at a time like this. She continued as she traced the head of his prick leisurely, “I really do. I know some women don’t, but I do.”

  “Then I owe you one.” He conceded as she bent over to consume him again.

  Frankie knew exactly what to do. She traced the line of his sac, cradled his balls as they tightened, pulled. He watched her as she moved up and down, her sighs something he hadn’t really noticed before. She did enjoy it. The thought singed his spine, drove him faster.

  “I want to see it,” he croaked out.

  She opened her mouth and let her tongue slip up the base of his dick to the tip where it danced, circled, and then she closed around the head and pressed down the length of him again. She kept it up until his vision blurred. He blinked, focused, his jaws clenched as his body wound up for the release. Pressure, pleasure, rocketed through him from the tip of his spine to the tip of his toes. He watched the geyser spill into her mouth. She didn’t flinch, didn’t make any face indicating she was opposed to his taste. Not even a little bit.

  He pulled her up and over him. He wanted to kiss her, desperately. But he knew he couldn’t. At least, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t risk breaking that one rule and losing her.

  “Do you want my gum?” He offered it between his teeth. He had almost swallowed it before tucking it between his jaw and back teeth.

  “No.” She grinned at him. Then her hands went searching near his head until she found her glasses and put them back on.

  “Frankie, do you have taste buds? Like do they work?” he asked.

  “What?” she laughed. “What kind of question is that? Of course I have taste-buds and of course they work.”

  “You didn’t even flinch, not a face, nothing. I mean I’ve never seen that before. I stopped looking when I was a teenager. I didn’t like the guilt that came with the sour face a girl made.” He wanted to know. She was amazing. Certainly she was more skilled in acting than he would be if the roles were reversed. Granted, he loved the way Frankie tasted. He couldn’t get enough of her, but sperm, totally different environment.

  “I like the way you taste, Jonas. No, that’s not usual. I don’t know, maybe it’s your diet. It’s almost tasteless. Fluffy, it’s weird to be honest, but I like it.” She riffled through the backpack and found the gum. She chewed on a piece and said, “If we had a shower…”

  “Well, we kinda do. It’s down the hill in the campsite below. Not a long walk, but we are far enough away for privacy.”

  She really looked like she was going to strangle him now.

  ***

  “You better get closer to me or the bears will get you,” he said as she slid into the sleeping bag next to him.

  Frankie moved closer, her back aligned with his front. His chin propped on the top of her head. His hands moved around her, up to cup her breasts. His thumbs stroked over her erect nipples and teased.

  She admitted, “I don’t think I can sleep.”

  “This isn’t the right park for bears.”

  She could feel the press of his chest against her back with the sound of the deep chuckle.

  “Our state flag has a bear on it, okay. I haven’t exactly been an outdoor girl. You could have said something,” she sighed.

  “What fun would that be?” he asked.

  She let her body melt against him, her flesh warm from his touch. There was never enough of him to have. He spoke, she responded. He touched, she burned. He breathed, she ached. He existed, and she would never ever forget what he did to her, and she would never, ever find another man to take his place. “Jonas.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Fuck me.”

  Two weeks later…

  “Just tonight,” Jonas said. He was already dozing off to sleep. One night had turned into another, then another. The two nights after the camping trip Frankie had left to sleep in her own apartment he found reasons to call, e-mail, or text her. She proba
bly got less sleep than he had, and he didn’t get much sleep those nights. Frankie was sort of like a superhero. By day she was a professional personal assistant. He wanted for nothing. His affairs were in immaculate order. He understood why several of his friends made the decision to get assistants once they reached a certain point in their careers. By night, she was a sex kitten extraordinaire, a goddess divine, a freak in the sheets, and any other description given to indicate something there was no real way to put a label on. He could not find the words to describe what she did to him in bed. He could barely explain how he felt about what she did for him out of bed. Everything was getting blurry and fast.

  As Frankie’s body shifted to her left side, as he now expected it to, he tried to resist wrapping himself around her, as somehow he seemed to do in his sleep. In the morning he had his first meeting with his agent and the studio head. The box of scripts had uncovered a project worth working on, a trilogy, a story with meat, no more kid stuff. He wanted to prove to himself as much as anyone he could be more than a funny guy, he could act.

  He was not doing such a good job of acting like he didn’t give a shit whether the woman next to him stayed or went. For her part, he might as well hand her that statue downstairs on the mantle to keep. He couldn’t read between the lines. She played both parts, equally interested in his professional career and his body, but uninterested in his personal affairs, including the one he was having with her.

  His head began to ache from the exhaustion, the exertion. He had a high sex drive. He had known that since puberty. Several women had attempted to match him. None had succeeded, until the auburn haired vixen next to him had fucked him into a complete stupor. Tonight he couldn’t have told her his own name, because all he could say was hers. It was frightening what she had done to him in so little time. He needed to get back to work, on to the next project. He needed to control his urges. He could do it, he thought as he rolled to his side and pulled her back against his chest, starting tomorrow.

  When Jonas awoke, Frankie was not next to him. Of course not, she had turned back into a pumpkin and was now in professional mode. The shower did nothing to relax his tension.

  “Sir,” she called.

  His dick, a moment before flaccid, was half hard at the sound of her voice. She called him sir now, because she knew he liked it for all the wrong reasons. “What’s up?”

  Jonas did his best to stay focused on the task at hand, his shower, and remain aloof.

  “Marty called, they want to move the meeting back an hour. Someone’s kid is sick, so everything is running later than originally planned. You can still take the meeting, and if it doesn’t go over three hours, you should be fine to have a late lunch with your family. If you want me to push that lunch into dinner, let me know, and I can coordinate it,” Frankie relayed in her business tone.

  He heard every word of it. “I can’t hear a word your saying, Frankie.”

  She stepped closer, opened the shower door a bit. His shower was big enough for several people to fit in. It had two overhead faucets and a bench along the wall. He never understood why, maybe for when he got older, he never used it. He only thought about it now as a final attempt to sidetrack his growing awareness of her.

  “I said,” she started.

  “Push it back to dinner.” He turned towards her. “We have time.”

  “No,” she said as she held her hand up and waved her finger. “You have time. I have work to do.”

  “Am I ever going to get to fuck you during daylight hours?” He frowned at her.

  She thought that was funny. “Sure, when you clear a day on your schedule, let me know. But for now, you only have me scheduled for ‘down time’ in the evenings.” She used air quotes when she said down time. She knew by now how much he thought it was a ridiculous gesture and had taken to using them just to irk him.

  She shut the shower door.

  “Frankie,” he called after her.

  “Sir?” she said.

  “Clear Friday.” He gripped his shaft and willed it to relax.

  “I get the day off?”

  She almost sounded excited about having a day off. She would get plenty of time off when he started filming and was on set. In the meantime he had been keeping her close, working every day.

  “I don’t like jerking off alone in the shower. I’m just telling you because I think you know what you are doing and I think it’s malicious.” He hoped she would react to his statement. He was happy when she opened the shower door.

  “Well,” she said. “Hop to it. I’ve got calls to make and I doubt you want me to make them at the same time.”

  He could feel his eyebrow shoot up on his forehead.

  “You didn’t want to jerk off alone. I’m standing right here, you’re not alone anymore.” She placed her hands on her hips. That damn phone held firmly in one of them. He had learned she had sewn compartments in almost every outfit, if not every outfit she owned so she had it on her body at all times.

  “You’re seriously going to just stand out there?” He wanted the arrogance of her implication to make him mad, yet the look in her eyes as she moved her gaze from his face to his hand still wrapped firmly around his prick did great and terrible things to his imagination. “You know I will want the same from you later.”

  “I’ll pencil it in.”

  Frankie had officially taken control of his life. Maybe he needed to find more ways to be spontaneous and keep some activities and plans, especially with her, to himself, not on the calendar. Maybe undoing all of her plans would be the way to figure out what she was capable of emotionally doing.

  She watched with rapt attention as he tugged, slid his hand with less care than she did, once, twice, his muscles tensed. He never looked down, only at her face. Her expressions were erotic, pushing him higher, driving him harder and much faster than he normally accomplished this task. Her mouth opened with a gasp, her cheeks pinked with excitement. Her bottom lip tucked into her mouth as she bit down. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He had never actually jerked off in front of anyone before. His vision blurred, his left eye closed, his muscles wound tight with effort and then released with a jerk of hips and hand. Cum spilled out of him, over his fingers, and then down the drain as the spray from the shower carried all evidence away.

  His body shivered from the aftershocks. Frankie’s expression was priceless. A wide eyed wonder full of excitement. If he asked her to join him now, she would have. He smiled at her. Took a step forward, and shut the shower door as her expression turned from lust to surprise. He hadn’t missed the outfit she was wearing. Adorable in a well fitted shirt and a flowing skirt that didn’t quite reach her knees. It was because of the wind created by the shower door he saw the tops of her thigh highs and the hint of a clasp holding them up. He smiled at the thought. Maybe, if he were lucky, she was wearing that for him. Maybe, he could keep her in those when he asked for his retribution tonight.

  The rest of his shower was easy. In fact, the rest of his day would be easier to manage since he didn’t have the lust for her nagging him. Her day, on the other hand, was going to be rough. At least he hoped it would.

  ***

  Frankie stood outside the shower, griping the phone with crushing force. What she had just witnessed was nothing short of amazing. The kind of thing a person did to fulfill a fantasy, not to try to lure someone into the shower with him. Her heart thumped wildly, her panties wet from need. All she had accomplished this morning was to disrupt her entire focus. Now, she could only picture him naked, water streaming over his amazing body, his hand around that glorious cock as he masturbated in front of her, for her. Or was it for him? She couldn’t tell anymore. His hands were amazing. She doubted he knew just how many nights she had fantasized about those hands, how special she felt now that he actually touched her in places she had only dreamed about before. His ego was nothing short of his status, but sometimes he could be vulnerable. A glimpse, never a full view of his true emotions kept her waiting
with baited breath for something she doubted would ever come. She steadied herself, walked as normal as possible, as though she wasn’t weak in the knees from what she had just witnessed.

  She caught sight of her reflection in his bathroom mirror and knew there was no hope. She was done for. Too many nights in his bed after sex. Too many mornings watching him sleep and drinking in the private details no one else could see or know about. The woman looking back at her was smitten, not in the same way she had been as a fan. No, this woman wasn’t in lust with an idea; she was falling in love with a man.

  “No!” Frankie said as a jerk reaction.

  The shower turned off and he called out, “No what?”

  “Sorry, I, nothing. I was just talking to the phone.” A lame excuse.

  He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, but not before she could see him completely naked one more time.

  “That phone gets more attention than I do.”

  She let out a brief laugh. “This phone is what helps me know what type of attention you want and when to give it to you.”

  Frankie started out the door. The look he was giving her was a little more than she could take under her current circumstances and awareness.

  Later that day…

  His meetings went well, or so he texted her. The afternoon passed quickly for her in the office at his house. There was a lot of work to do. Invitations arrived daily at this time of year, and since he had contracted to do four movies with the studio, so did scripts. Her new job was to read them, all of them and sort them into three piles: yes, no, maybe. Frankie thought it would be easy to do at first, but then the weight of the decisions hit her and she realized she was going to be partially responsible for his decision. Her stacking could mean a blockbuster hit or a humiliating crash. She wound up adding notes to justify her decisions. Notes he only read on the yes pile. He never bothered, that she saw, to pick up scripts from the other two.

 

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