The Interview (A His Submissive Series Story)

by Ava Claire

  She looked about five moves past worried, her soft features blanched. "I, uh, as far as the interview?"

  A Cheshire grin spread across my face. "It's more of a...working interview. If you are prepared, we can begin now."

  She practically shredded the armrests on the chair she was sitting in. I could hear her internal conflict. Was this real? I couldn't be serious...but if I was, would she really say yes?

  I held her gaze, hoping she wouldn't call my bluff. Hoping that the spark I'd seen wasn't imagined. "You are under no obligation to me yet, Miss Montgomery. If you are uninterested in the position, you can sever your employment with Whitmore and Creighton."

  She frowned. Not the best sign. "I couldn't go back to R & D?"

  Carl is going to kill me... "We both know that position is an extensive waste of your talent."

  I'd meant it as a joke, but she looked ready to hop to her feet and spit in my face.

  "You know this isn't fair, right?" she practically growled, each word singeing the air. "That you're giving me no choice?"

  The level of endearment I had for her spunk had its limits. "Of course you have a choice. You can submit to me and be paid handsomely for it, or you can walk back through that door without consequences."

  If my retort shook that iron will of hers, there was no indication in the way she didn't budge an inch. Our staring contest went on for a good two minutes and I almost wavered, opting for a different way to make the proposition more palatable, but her shoulders dropped and her glare became a little less deadly. She toyed with a curly brown tendril pensively, wrapping the lock tight around her pointer finger. I wanted her hair wild and free, bouncing to and fro as I took her. But there were other things that lied beyond my desire to hear her call me 'Sir'. To surrender control. I wanted to know her, body, mind, and soul.

  And it contradicted the very nature of the contract.

  She still hasn't given her answer. It could all be a moot point.

  When she finally surrendered, turning those brown eyes to the wall, I was sure that she would walk out the door, leaving me with an unsigned contract and regret.

  "O-okay," she relented, but she shied away from my gaze.

  Her eyes would give me her true answer, and if we were to go forward, she needed to be certain.

  "Look at me. I want you to say it again—and be sure."

  My deep voice filled the room and she drew in a breath. She would either obey, or tell me to go to hell.

  "I am sure. Yes." And with that, she signed the document with her pointer finger, the slight shudder not lost on me. When I took the tablet from her, I brushed her hand with the tip of my finger and nearly lost it when a full body shiver rocketed through her and crashed into me.

  "Very well," I said thickly, clearing my throat and making a beeline for the liquor cabinet. I watched the bourbon fill the glass, then pulled the rim to my lips. I thought the alcohol would stem the raging waves of lust bent on taking me under before I could properly gauge her comfort level, but it just increased my thirst. My thirst for Leila.

  I pivoted back to her, letting my gaze wash up and down her body. I wasn't sure where to indulge first; the nape of her neck, where her muscles flexed when she gulped with nervousness, or the curve of her breasts...

  I sipped the bourbon and put it aside, ready to give my first command.

  "Take off your clothes."

  I knew it would catch her off guard; I was betting on it. She didn't disappoint.

  "Now?" she said, mouth agape. "Here?"

  Surprise was one thing, but I had little patience for her two questions, especially after I'd told her what I wanted her to do.

  "I don't like to repeat myself," I glowered.

  She gave me that stubborn glare that I couldn't deny made my cock thump. She raised her cute little chin and brought her fingers to her blouse. She ceremoniously unbuttoned each one until it parted ever so slightly, like her lips, that were no longer giving me attitude but practically pursed. I ached to kiss her, but not yet. Right now, I wanted to watch her submit.

  She rolled the blouse off her shoulders and I savored the breasts I'd been fantasizing about ever since I felt them pressed against my chest. Heat rounded her cheeks, but she turned her attention to her skirt, pulling the black fabric from her lithe frame.

  I smirked when her hands self consciously shot to her crotch, trying to hide her comic print boy shorts. When she glanced at me, I snapped the smirk into an indifferent line. Today, she needed a firm handed Dom. One to guide her through my expectations. How could she take me seriously if I was grinning like an idiot?

  "Continue," I said smoothly.

  She shut her eyes and nodded. She snaked her arms around and unhooked her bra. Need surged through me when it fell and her round, lush breasts bounced free. She immediately hunched forward, like she was trying to hide her body from me. With a body like hers with curves in all the right places, soft, and mine to do with as I pleased, that just wouldn't do.

  I stood before her, seeing the same electric need setting fire to her eyes. I gently brought her hands back to her side. "Hands down."

  Her eyes changed, suddenly alight with the thrill of the unknown. It was a fleeting moment because almost instantly, her face went a shade paler and her eyes shut me out.

  "You're uncomfortable," I said, hearing the ruefulness in my voice. It made sense. I knew what I was asking of her. It took many submissives years to come to terms with their needs. It was paramount that she trusted me to guide her through this, even though my methods were less than conventional. And it was even more important to me that she know that while this was a sexual relationship, she was safe with me.

  "Are you self-conscious...or afraid of me?"

  I didn't keep my voice distant and closed off. I let her hear the vulnerability. It wasn't something I gave away freely, but with her, I felt a strange comfort in her eyes.

  She looked up at me and let me see her. Every perfect feature was angled on me, and she let me back in.

  "S-self conscious," she replied.

  I cupped my chin, trying to think of the best way to make her feel more comfortable, yet push the envelope a bit. My gaze flicked to the corner and I pointed at the dark brown chaise leaning against the wall.

  "Go have a seat. And relax."

  She obeyed, her round ass sexy as hell. I saw the twitch of her sucking in a breath, her way of covering some perceived flaw. The natural roundness of what she was working with was hotter than any number of curve less behinds she tried to mimic for the last few steps before she reached the chaise.

  She sank onto the cushion and I watched as every worry fled her face and she relaxed. That sigh of relief, the smile that teased her lips...I wanted to see more of it.

  "Swing your legs up." I tried on a smile of my own. "Get the full effect."

  Leila needed no encouragement. She was well on her way to enjoying the comfort the chair provided. I was glad she was relaxing, because we had work to do. There was a part of her that I'd felt with my fingers and I wanted to see wide open and spread for me.

  Her eyes popped open as soon as I stopped at the foot of the chaise.

  "Raise up your knees and spread your legs. Wide enough so I can see you." And just in case she needed specificity, I added thickly, "All of you."

  She looked surprised that I wanted to see her body. Who had convinced this woman that she was anything short of spectacular? She slowly, painstakingly drew her legs up until her knees were bent, like she was giving me a chance to back out. When I didn't, her gaze dropped to my fly and her lips formed the hottest 'O' of surprise. She saw that I was rock hard for her.

  "And touch yourself," I added, struggling not to touch myself.

  And then she just stared. Knees pressed together, face frozen like a deer in headlights. She was such a fascinating contradiction.

  "Is there a problem?" I said, an edge to the question.

  The sound that came out of her mouth was supposed to be a laugh,
but it was a garbled mess that led to uncomfortable hiccups and trembling that made me forget all else but the one rule that any Dom worth his salt abides by: take care of your submissive first.

  I reached for her, my palm against her hand. I expected her to shy from my touch, but instead, she lifted her fingers. I didn't hold hands, but I found myself interlacing my fingers with hers.

  "I want you," I told her, my words as strong as my belief that we were embarking on a journey together. "But if you're not ready to submit to me now, I'm a patient man."

  When it hit me just how natural it felt to have her hand in mine, I pulled away, marching back to my desk. One button and Natasha's voice chirped on the other end.

  "Jacob Whitmore's office."

  "Natasha, please call the boutique on Fifth and let them know I'm sending Miss Montgomery over before the flight to Venice."

  I forced my thoughts to neutral territory since my cock was still ready, willing, and able to continue my first session with Leila. My heart knew she needed more time. And I knew this woman was worth the wait.

  And frankly, with Rachel Laraby causing all kinds of headache, I needed a damn good assistant.

  Leila was on her feet, catching my request and rightfully asking questions. "Uh, what? Boutique? Venice?"

  I rounded my desk and took a seat, shifting back into work mode. "Yes. Press junket for one of our trouble clients. I'm sure you're familiar with her. Child star? Crashed and burned as soon as she hit 18 but is somehow still America's Sweetheart? This is her first serious role since she was released from rehab and you're accompanying me to the film festival to keep her on the straight and narrow and ensure all press is good press."

  She gawked at me like I was already speaking Italian. "I can't just go to Europe."

  My eyes were on my computer screen, but I went through the important details. "You have a passport, yes?"

  "Well yeah, but I-"

  "All expenses will be paid of course. When you're not essential, you'll be free to see the sights or whatever your heart desires."

  I couldn't stay on task with a word like 'desire' hanging in the air. Not when she was still naked. She rose slowly, like this was all some dream and at any moment she'd be roused from her slumber. She angled toward her stack of clothes.

  "Leave the clothes."

  Indignation rounded her features. "I'm certainly not gonna traipse around in-"

  "Look beneath the chaise."

  She suspiciously bent over, making sure her ass was turned away from me. That self consciousness was forgotten when she pulled out a slender white box.

  I hedged my bets, remember? And I put it all on yes.

  She tore open the box and practically cooed when she saw the black trench coat I'd bought for her. The awe was drained from her face when she peeked at the price tag.

  "I can't keep this!" she exclaimed. “It costs more than a month's rent!"

  "As my assistant," I explained curtly, "You're an extension of me. It means you must look the part, Leila."

  She hesitated, stroking the coat like it was some brand new kitten, then pulled it out and over her bare body. When she smiled, nothing else mattered.

  Natasha's voice burst the bubble. "Mr. Whitmore, your car has arrived."

  "Thank you." I rose from the chair and went to Leila, my heart thumping wildly in my chest when she didn't shy away when I took her hand and brought my knuckles to her lips.

  I left her then, before I did something ridiculous, like start to fall for her.

  When I stepped into the hall with a smile on my face, I knew it was too late.

  ****

  Thank you for reading The Interview! Please consider leaving a review. xoxo Ava

  A note on The Interview:

  The Interview is a re-telling of The Billionaire’s Contract (His Submissive: Part One) from Jacob’s POV. It’s just a fun, companion short story that I wrote for my fans. If you want to read the entire His Submissive series and follow Jacob and Leila’s love story, The His Submissive Series Boxed Set is available at:

  Amazon

  Barnes and Noble

  iBooks

  Kobo

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Ava Claire is a sucker for Alpha males and happily ever afters. When not putting pen to paper or glued to her e-reader, Ava likes road tripping, karaoke, vintage fashion, and fantasizing about her favorite book boyfriends.

  Connect with Ava:

  Blog: http://avaclaireromantica.blogspot.com

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  Twitter: @avaclairewrites

  Stay tuned to my blog for up to date information on my works in progress and release schedules!