by Penny Ward
“Take me Jackson,” I whisper.
He stares at me.
I know he is going to take me.
And it is going to be good…
Soon, his hands find their way up my thigh, onto my tenderness.
I am so wet.
And as we embrace in naked lust, desire overcomes me. I want every part of this man. I want to hold every inch of his tanned, lustful body.
His hard cock touches my wet pussy and I become even wetter.
The hardness of his member sits on the edge of my pussy and I want it.
I need it.
He pushes in strong, sliding into me.
Oh yes…
He is inside me, deep.
And full.
Wow…
My head throws back in orgasmic yearning.
Jackson slowly withdraws… and thrusts into me.
Oh...
He is strong.
My hands push up and run all over his muscles, smoothing over the strength of his chest. I am taken by this chest – it is perfect in every way.
Again he thrusts into me… hard.
Oh yes…
He holds himself deep inside my body and my hands dance all over him. His powerful arms hold him up and my hands smooth over his large muscles.
He slams into me again.
Slowly, he begins to build into a rhythm.
Coming in and out of my wetness.
Oh yes…
The thrusting begins to build harder and harder.
Yes…
It becomes quicker.
Oh yes...
And harder.
Yes!
Jackson pumps me with all his strength, slamming his cock into me.
I can’t control myself.
My body becomes flush with orgasm and I feel every piece of my skin tingle with warmth.
My head is lost.
A loud moan escapes my lips and my head throws back.
Yes!
Jackson continues thrusting, slamming himself into me with a consistent pattern.
My head is sent to another place by the hard rhythm.
I cannot contain the moans any longer.
From deep within my body, a moan escapes. I pant as the strength of Jackson controls me – driving me into a primal rage.
His aggression is more amazing than anything I have ever experienced.
This passion, this lust, this desire.
“Yes! Jackson! Yes!”
Amazing…
He is in complete control.
I can’t stop him.
He owns me.
The lust is uncontrollable.
My heart rate begins to increase and my body begins to burn.
Fuck…
My overwhelming groans progress louder.
Yes…
Take me, Jackson.
Yes!
As he pumps into me, my entire body tingles with passion.
My head is lost and the feelings are overwhelming.
He holds me close and I try to hold onto him – but he is much too powerful.
I am tossed around the bed like a piece of meat.
I love it.
Quickly, his thrusting brings me to a peak and I squeal with delight. My eyes roll to the back of my head and my body shakes.
Wow.
Slam!
He pumps his manhood into me, driving me into the firm bed.
When I thought it couldn’t get any better, he increases his speed and slams faster.
Wow…
I am gone.
I can’t handle it.
The waves of pleasure dance through me.
The heat touches every part of my body.
I am lost.
Oh…
As I climax, Jackson continues to drive into my pussy. It sends me further into orgasm. As I reach the top, he keeps going…
His power is undeniable.
He becomes quicker.
Harder.
Faster.
Deeper!
Jackson intensely pumps into me, and my hands run over the sweat on his back. I grip tightly at his muscles as they flex hard.
He shakes with desire.
Every part of Jackson’s body grips…
Yes!
Jackson pumps one last time into me.
Yes!
I feel his warmth shoot inside me, tingling my pussy.
He puffs hard as he slows, trying to hold onto every last moment.
I grip him firmly.
I don’t want this to end…
Jackson falls to the bed, and I lounge my nakedness all over his muscular, toned body.
Wow…
Chapter 14
When the sun streams through the curtains the next morning, I wake in the afterglow of magical sex. I reach my arm across, expecting to find an empty bed again…
I am emotionally prepared to find an empty bed next to me. I am emotionally prepared to be alone again.
And I almost want to find an empty bed.
It would justify all my feelings about Jackson. It would prove that I was right all along.
An empty bed would also relieve me of having to take the biggest risk of my life. It would be comforting to have the choice taken away from me.
My arm comes across the bed…
But it isn’t empty.
What I find is the solid muscles of the handsome man lying next to me. My hand rubs up and down his arm, and then his torso. I have never felt anything as wonderful.
“Come to dinner with me,” he states as I wake up.
“It’s a bit early for dinner.”
He smiles, gazing at my body.
“On Friday, come to dinner with me.”
“Where?” I ask.
“Back in New York. I’ll take you to the finest restaurant in the city. I would love to get to know you better.”
“But you’ve already seen me in the only nice dress I own. I don’t have another dress to wear,” I mumble with my mind going back to planning mode.
“Don’t worry about that. I’m sure you won’t be wearing it long,” he smiles playfully.
I smile back.
Staring at his gorgeous face, I become lost in his gaze.
After staring at him for an eternity, I fall back to the pillow and look at the cracks in the roof of this old, country hotel.
“This morning, we are officially step-brother and sister. We are officially part of the same family. Don’t you think that is a bit weird?”
“No,” he shakes his head, “You and I are of no blood relation. I don’t even see my father, let alone his new wife.”
I ponder the thought for a while.
As wild as I am about this man, we are now stepsiblings.
I don’t know how I feel about that…
It feels strange.
“Take a chance in your life,” he states firmly.
“But I never take a chance, remember? That’s what you said to me.”
“Prove me wrong.”
I smile to him, roll out of bed, get dressed and begin to pack my bag.
“I’m going to start to drive back to New York today,” I mention.
“And?”
“And during that very long drive, I am going to consider how I feel about dating you. I am wild about you. You are the most amazing man I have ever met…”
“But?”
“But I need to consider the fact that we are now family. I don’t know how I feel about that.”
“It’s only dinner,” he grins.
“It wouldn’t be only dinner,” I smile back, “You and I could not have ‘only dinner.’ Whatever time we spend together, it is likely that we will end up back in the bedroom.”
He nods, and he understands.
This situation is weird. Although we are not related by blood, it feels strange that our parents are married.
Jackson writes on a piece of paper and hands it to me.
It reads, ‘Javier’s restaurant. 8 o’cl
ock Friday.’
“I will have made my decision by then,” I smile to him.
“I’ll be there. I hope you are too.”
I collect my bags without saying another word and leave the hotel room to go to my car.
I have three days to drive back to New York and by then I will have made my decision…
What would you choose?
The End
The Personal Assistant
By
Penny Ward
THE PERSONAL ASSISTANT
Caleb Hawksley is careful in all things; his world is ordered, controlled, and focused on making money… until he realizes he has feelings for his personal assistant. Emma James is the perfect assistant – cute, fun and irresistible.
Caleb tries to resist his attraction to her, but instead is swept up in a wave of emotion he cannot understand and cannot fight. Unlike any woman he has known before, shy, kind, and smiling Emma seems to see right through him - past the success, the dollars and the penthouse lifestyle to Caleb’s cold, empty soul.
But will Emma’s appeal win Caleb’s heart… or will he push her away forever?
Chapter 1
“No!”
He’s shouting again.
“This is not good enough!”
He sounds angry.
“This is not acceptable!”
Really angry.
“You are pathetic!”
And I love it when he is angry…
I hear Caleb throw something against the wall and decide it is time to enter the room. Slowly, I creep into the dining room, hovering around the edges. The room is large and I am easily able to disappear in the shadows.
“And don’t come back tomorrow! You’re fired!” Caleb rages. “Fired!”
As I pick up a plate from the dining table, Caleb notices me.
“Emma, sorry. I didn’t know you were still here.”
“Is everything ok?” I ask innocently.
“No, Emma, it’s not. I have just been served under-cooked chicken from the new chef. Under-cooked chicken, Emma. That’s not good enough. That could have given me food poisoning.”
“You didn’t have to fire him. You could have given him a second chance.”
“Under-cooked chicken, Emma.”
“Still. It’s a pressure job cooking for the famous Caleb Hawksley. The poor guy would have been very nervous on his first night. He’s only made one mistake.”
“Emma, the chicken was still pink on the inside. I barely think the chicken even hit the pan. That’s not good enough. Not for the amount I am paying him… or any chef for that matter. Why am I hiring a chef that can’t even cook chicken? I could have done a better job than he did.”
“I highly doubt that,” I smile. “You wouldn’t even know where the kitchen is.”
Caleb stares at me with a blank face. He wants to be angry with me. He wants to shout at me for such a harsh comment.
But the smile cracks through his tough exterior, “Only you could say that to me and get away with it, Emma.”
I return his smile. “Now, do you want a sandwich? I can make one for you.”
He smiles again and I feel the anger disappear from the room, “You know me better than I know myself, Emma.”
“Yes, I do.”
But I want to know you better, Caleb Hawksley.
I want to know you so much better…
Chapter 2
There he goes again.
On his way to spend a fortune on champagne for women he barely knows, as if money is nothing and life is one long, inconsequential party.
"Goodbye Emma," says Caleb in his silky smooth deep voice.
Caleb is my employer, looking too gorgeous in his tailored navy suit and crisp white shirt.
"Don't wake me when you get in," I say, waving and smiling, knowing that if he's alone when he returns, he will wake me for conversation and cocoa in the kitchen. I love those midnight moments together; the easy smiles, the occasional lingering glance he thinks I don't see, which never leads to the places I need them to.
Not yet anyway.
Caleb drives away in his silver Aston Martin without a care in the world, and I tell myself for the millionth time to loathe him for how he chooses to live his life, for his dislike of all things working class, for not wanting me the way I want him, but I know him too well for that.
He's a good man with a kind heart, though he does love to spoil himself like a child in a sweetshop a little too often.
Anyway, I couldn't loathe the man for whom I've longed forever.
The man I still dare to hope will one day see me as more than Little Em who grew up with him and became his housekeeper. Until that day, I keep his house in order and his shirts clean, fearing the day he falls in love, because it will be the end of me.
Despite being pleased with what nature gave me, I'm not glamorous or sophisticated like the many women he brings back for a night here, a night there. Those tittering women who offer their bodies and leave Chanel lipstick smeared over his linen shirts for me to remove. They are sophisticated, perfectly styled, wealthy, and I know I should envy them all, but I don't.
Why would I envy them when in normal, everyday ways he is mine to care for?
In my dreams he is mine to enjoy, and in my heart, he is just mine.
My mother loved being the housekeeper for Caleb and his parents while I was a growing girl.
I loved our accommodation in the grounds, and the huge yards where they let me play. I lived with my mother, the Hawksley family housekeeper, and my father, their limo driver, on their property in the Hamptons. Our family was not full of money, but that never stopped me.
It wasn’t the money that I loved anyway.
It was the freedom.
The freedom to wander and play and explore.
I spent a lot of my younger years with Caleb, who is five years older than I. His parents were never around, and a lot of the time, it was up to my mother to care for him. I loved the horse-riding, the wandering and quiet out there.
But mostly, especially from my thirteenth birthday, I loved spending time with Caleb, and when puberty hit, I fantasized about him being the one to release the full power of my lust and reveling in it.
Shame Caleb has no idea what fireworks we might light between my sheets.
Maybe one day I'll show him.
Maybe, one day, we will connect…
Chapter 3
When I turned eighteen, I was offered a job to be Caleb’s housekeeper in his inner-city $50 million penthouse apartment. I have my own bedroom and quarters in the three level penthouse, and with my mother's training, I learned to do this job blindfolded.
It has now been three years since I’ve started this job – and I couldn’t be happier.
I have my close friends that I hang out with once or twice a week, but apart from them, this job is my life.
After attending to my many duties as housekeeper all morning, I decide to take a well-earned rest around lunchtime. Living in the house I clean and organize means I'm always on call.
Unless Caleb—my sole employer since his father died and mother moved on to her fourth husband—is out of the penthouse, of course.
Even then, he could call at any moment and order me to organize a party for twenty, including food. Experience—literally years of it—tells me Caleb will be gone until the early hours. While he manages a billion-dollar investment company during the day, he is still able to fit in hours of partying most nights.
I'll need to get a few hours’ sleep before he returns because there could be requests for one thing or another later, for him or his guests.
Peachy bubbles surround me and soothe tired muscles.
Looking after a young playboy can keep a girl busy, but this girl would never complain. I was born into domestic service just as my mother and father were before me. My school friends couldn't understand why I didn't want to leave to get my own place or a different job. They don't understand how much I love my job, my
home, and my life.
We've had the good fortune to serve a big-hearted family, although Caleb's mother was a fickle one. As a live-in staff member, I'm surrounded by luxury and live in the best location in the city. I live in the heart of the action.
All I do for it is take care of my employer, and there's a definite feel-good factor about caring for others.
Mom and Dad managed to use their income to buy a place of their own, and Caleb gave her a huge leaving bonus, which helped heaps.
He's such a generous man.
The peach foam infuses the bathroom, and breathing it in, I imagine his mouth around my nipple and my fingers search beneath the bubbles—like a surrogate tongue—and apply firm and precise strokes.
Legs spread wide I sigh, stroking my clit, and racing towards my climax…"Ah."
"Emma, you there?"
"Damn," I whisper, sitting up sharply.
No. Did he hear me?
"Emma?" Caleb's deep voice booms down the hallway leading to my quarters and the thrill of it nearly sends me over the edge.
"Emma?" The door handle turns and my body freezes, apart from the hand between my legs, which joins the other one in grabbing the side of the bathtub.
When he bursts in, I force myself not to cover my breasts or close my legs, willing him to see my breasts, the triangle of hair above my sex.
Willing him to want me.
Yes.
Look at me.
I am right here.
His gaze darkens and lingers on my breasts, "Ah," his eyes refuse to stop looking even though he strains to turn his head, "Sorry to disturb your bath."
After the initial thrill of being seen is gone, embarrassment swoops in and the confidence I used to exhibit my body shrivels along with my open posture.
"Oh, Caleb, what is it?" I cover myself as best I can, wishing I could reach the towel. "I thought you wouldn't be back for hours."
He turns his head away fully now, while I stand to grab the bath towel off the rail and wrap it around myself.
"Don't be angry with me," he says, holding out his hand to help me out of the bath. "It's just…I brought a date home and she must have taken something before she left the bar. She's being sick in the kitchen."