My cock is so painfully hard that I need to let it out of the confines of my slacks. I fist myself and stroke my shaft as I resituate myself in the cushion of the sofa. Imagining having my fingers inside Bella amps up my need. I have to get myself off in order to get my cock under control.
Fuck! The amount of times that I've jacked off thinking about her is innumerable.
I pump vigorously, squeezing and tugging as my hand moves up.
The crown of my cock is sensitive, so I use my other hand to squeeze the tip slightly. I pull my head forward and watch my hands work myself over until come spurts out. Some spills onto my dress shirt and falls around my fist. I use some of my own fluid as lubricant as I stroke the last of my orgasm out of me.
Then I sigh.
I'm almost satisfied.
I would be more satisfied if my cock was experiencing the real thing.
And by that, I mean Bella.
My assistant.
Chapter Three
Benjamin
I walk through the building in silence, past cubicles and offices. I notice the employees with their heads down and their eyes forward as I walk by. I know it’s because they fear interacting with me or looking at me in a way that I wouldn’t like. I’ve seen that the staff aren’t always so enamored with their work when they’ve thought that I wasn’t watching. I also know it’s because they are afraid that I will turn to them and fire them for just looking at me, as I’ve done a few times since I’ve taken over. At least that’s how they perceived the terminations. As long as long the employees do their work and stay out of my way, then I’m happy and they keep their jobs.
Maggie keeps telling me I should be nice to the employees; After all, my father was a well-loved owner. My standard comeback is that I am not my father. He was everybody’s friend. I give them paychecks for the work that they do, and they should be happy with that.
I make my way to my office, open up my laptop, and pull up my calendar.
Three months have gone by since Bella was hired as my assistant. She’s lasted longer than any of the others, has done exceptional work with what I’ve asked of her, can take head on projects with excellence and best of all, she shows no fear when it comes to addressing me, or my moods. In fact, she seems to push through them and even manages to get me to calm down and actually speak to her rather than yell at her. She’s masterful in the way she handles me, like that of a football coach, angry but also applauding. She gets me to zero in on her beautiful blue eyes and focus my mind in order to calm down. I think that it's clear that I like her.
We’ve had many one-on-one meetings wherein previous assistants would have cowered in their seats, perhaps even shed tears.
Not Bella, not a chance. She meets me head on, with the gentlest of touches and the sharpest of fangs.
It could be that most of the time I’m fantasizing about bending her over my desk, or it could be that I’m in complete awe of her. I’m not sure, nor do I care. She gets the job done, does it well, and so far hasn’t made me look like a complete idiot in any of my business dealings.
Maggie waltzes into my office with the confidence and swagger of a panther. She never bothers to knock and, while that annoys the shit out of me with others, I cannot bring myself to getting angry at her for doing so. She tosses several folders down onto my desk in front of me. The whoosh of air from the files landing with such force makes me blink. I look down at the files and then back up to her with a quirk of my eyebrow.
“The top file is the employee file on Isabella. Her three-month evaluation is due and, as her boss, you are required to meet with her. Are you satisfied with her performance?”
Her performance would better if she pleased me the way she does in my fantasies.
“Her performance has been stellar,” I respond, my tone practiced and even.
“Good. She seems to get along with the vendors and staff. And most importantly, with you. She seems to be thick-skinned and not inclined to hide in a corner with her tail between her legs,” Maggie praises. “She's outlasted the others.”
I nod. “I’ve noticed that as well.”
“Any specific reason she hasn't come to my office in tears because you're being an untamed animal?”
“The others were incompetent. They were scared puppies with their tails between their legs as you just said. I was no different with them than I am with Bella. She goes toe-to-toe with me.”
“And you don't mind that?”
“Irrelevant. Honestly, her input has been helpful in some instances. Don't worry. I'll get the review done. Anything else, Maggie?”
“No. And good. If you could please have it finished by the end of the week. I would like the file back on my desk by close of business on Friday. Can you do that?”
“Yes ma’am.” Maggie scares me sometimes with her mean expressions and her overall authority that I remember from my childhood. No chance in hell I would ever cross her in a dark alley, but I also would rather not prolong conversations with her. She thinks that just because she's known me since before I could drive, that she knows me still as that person today.
As Maggie leaves my office, Bella enters. She crosses the room and takes a seat in front of my desk with her notepad and pen. She’s poised and ready to take her morning notes, which I prefer to do in person with her rather than through an email like I did before her. Her pen hovers over the paper and her eyes are fixed on me, awaiting my start.
I watch her as she sits patiently with her legs crossed. She's always ready to jot her notes down, always attentive.
“Today, we’re going to discuss you,” I say finally, leaning back in my seat.
“Me?” she asks, pointing her pen at her chest. That chest... mmmm. Yes, I would like to talk about your breasts.
“That’s correct. You. You and me,” I reply, watching her expression carefully.
Her skin flushes. From under her blouse, the blush rises up her neck to her face and the tips of her ears get the brightest. I note by the vein on her slender neck that her pulse has quickened. Her breathing has increased. I notice the change, satisfied that I can create this effect within her with just my proximity and my words.
She clears her throat. “What about you and me?” she asks.
I stand, button my jacket, and round the massive oak desk that separates us to stand directly in front of her in the limited space between the chair where she sits and my desk. I cross one foot over the other and lean back on the desk. Her face is in perfect range to suck me off if she happened to lean forward a foot, but I shake my head to clear those thoughts. I'm her boss, I'm asserting myself as her boss, so I need to keep my cock in check. Although, as I look down at her, she licks her bottom lip, glances in the general direction of my cock, then back up to meet my eyes.
“You and me, Bella. Me and you. What do you think?” I ask gruffly, hinting at my true intentions but without blatantly stating them.
“I’m not exactly sure that I know what you’re asking, sir.” Her voice conveys confidence, but she begins twisting the stud in her left earlobe.
“You have become a passionate and dedicated employee and it’s time for your three-month evaluation. I would like to know how you feel about working here and your position with me.” I ask.
She shifts subtly in her chair. I enjoy watching her squirm, knowing that I have some effect on her. Her eyes dart down to her lap, then she blows out a breath and looks up to meet my eyes again. I’m still picturing her rosy red lips wrapped around my cock when she answers.
“I enjoy working for you. I’ve learned so much about the industry, and I feel like I’ve been doing my job with accuracy and efficiency.”
“I’m a difficult person to work for, although you’ve seemed to be able to handle my moods. Is that a problem for you? My difficulty?”
“I don’t think you’re difficult. I think you are misunderstood.”
“Misunderstood?” I question. “Explain.”
“I think that you can be sta
ndoffish. Although, you don’t seem to be around me. But I see how you care about this company, how you love what you do. I also see that you have a general interest in the staff around here, even though you’re an asshole at times and no one else sees it.”
“An asshole?” I fake astonishment, as if I've never overheard employees describe me that way. Hell, I’ve always personally acknowledged being one.
“You want me to be honest?” She asks for permission. Cute.
When I nod she continues. “Well, you aren’t the nicest person around. You can be short with others, are occasionally heartless, and you frequently make it clear that it’s your way or the highway. I get it though; this company is all you have. I would want the best for my brand if I were in your shoes. But you sometimes yell at the staff, and you often don’t offer an explanation for your behavior or your decisions, so you have this reputation.”
I know the reputation she speaks of. This isn’t the first time it’s been brought up.
“And you’re okay working for an asshole?”
“You aren’t an asshole to me.”
“No?”
“I mean, you have your moments, but underneath it all I know you genuinely care for everyone here. I feel like I can get through to you, or at least meet you halfway.”
“So, you’re calling yourself an asshole as well?” I smirk.
“I have those tendencies, I suppose.” she shrugs.
I laugh lightly and shake my head as I stand to my full height and take the seat beside her.
“I don’t believe that for one second,” I say, my voice just above a whisper.
She looks at me and I can see it in her eyes. She is curious about me, and she’s definitely attracted to me. I can see the telltale signs.
“The gala on Friday night. You’re attending, as my date,” I state as I stand and return to my chair behind the desk. I move the files that Maggie brought in to the side of my desk and fold my hands in front of me.
“Your date, sir?” she asks, confused. “I wasn’t planning to attend the gala. I can’t. I don’t have a dress. I haven’t scheduled an appointment to have my hair done, my makeup, a pedicure…” Her voice trails off as she stares absently at the side wall with worry. Though she spoke her thoughts out loud, they likely they weren't meant for me.
“Those are not valid reasons for you to say no. I have people who will take care of all that for you and I will have a car pick you up at six.”
“Sir, I’m a little confused. From what I've seen in the press, you usually already have someone lined up to take with you to these events. Why me?” she asks, standing.
She's right. In the past, I have always hired a stand-in escort to attend events with me. It seemed the best solution to have someone who wouldn’t ask for more time or emotion than I would care to give, someone I could trust to be discreet, and someone who would be available to me if I so choose. I've never indulged in that benefit of the agreement, but the option was always there. I’d just needed someone who knew her duty was to smile and be present, so I wasn’t presented to the public as a complete recluse. Because, even though I do keep myself isolated, I need to maintain appearances for the benefit of my company. Sometimes those appearances include the image that I have a personal life.
“Because I would rather that you attend,” I reply honestly.
“But why?” she prods.
“Isabella. Do I need a reason to take a beautiful woman anywhere?” I ask her, knowing that this is no way professional of me.
“No, sir. I’m just wondering, why me? I've seen pictures of the women you’ve attend these things with in the past. They are very striking women.”
“Because I would be honored to take you as my date. You are very striking and I think that we would make a good team to best represent Adams Enterprises at the event. Although, it’s a night of fun and not of work.”
After a moment of hesitation, she asks, “Is my attendance part of my review, sir?”
“Not at all. I consider your review complete. But I do hope for your company.”
She blushes, looks at her feet and then as she looks up with a tentative smile.
“As long as my attendance does not interfere with my employment and it's just a night of enjoyment,” she replies.
“Good.” I switch gears. “Now that all of that is done and settled, I have a few requests for this week and the meetings that are planned.” We continue talking about the business side of things for the remainder of the hour, even though I would much rather discuss the gala and what could happen afterwards or – hell – even during.
As the day wears on, I pass Bella’s desk several times. Each time, I catch her curious eyes on me as I either walk to or from my office. Her smile is innocent, but also hides a secret. A few times I noticed her blush as she resumed her work. I feel like we have shared something, something deeper than boss and employee, and I hope that she feels the same.
This is going to be a long week.
Chapter Four
Benjamin
Friday couldn’t have come soon enough.
I am eager to see Bella dressed in a gown, to have her on my arm, standing close to me, laughing with me, touching me.
I scowl. This isn't me. I'm not this person.
I arranged for a personal shopper and a stylist to tend to Bella this evening. I also gave her the afternoon off while I spent my day working from home. At the appointed time, I dress in my tuxedo and sit down to wait for Bella. The car I sent to pick her up was headed here to my home so we could leave for the gala together.
I’m sitting in my library, reading a thriller novel to avoid thoughts of anything but this evening, when the elevator chimes rescuing me from my attempts to keep distracted. When I hear that melodic sound, I toss my book aside and jump up to go greet my guest. I dash out of the library and into the hallway, buttoning my jacket as I go. Bella rounds the same corner while my eyes are looking down at my fingers working the buttons. Mrs. Rosemary, my cook and household manager, must have greeted Bella at the elevator and directed my guest to the library.
We crash into one another with an “oomph” and my hands reach out to steady her. I feel the magnetic pull of our bodies touching; it was brief, but it was there. I haven’t felt that zing in years, not since before everything happened in my last relationship with her.
“I’m sorry. The lady directed me in here,” she apologizes as she looks around. “I feel so weird being in your personal space.”
I would prefer she was a lot closer to my personal space.
“It’s cool. I was actually coming out to greet you,” I reply.
“Cool? You said cool,” she snickers.
“What? I’m human, you know,” I remind her.
“I know. It’s just that, in the office, you’re so to the point. No hip lingo. None of those everyday things you hear others say. You’re all businessy.”
“Isabella, I don’t believe businessy is a real word,” I tease.
Her eyes focus on something over my shoulder and widen. She pushes past me and stops in the center of the room, then turns her body so she gets a 360-degree view.
“What is this?” she whispers.
I walk to stand beside her and smile, my hands in my pockets.
“This is my library. it’s one of my favorite places in my home.”
“You read?”
“I’ve been told by previous professors that I have a skill for reading.”
“I’m sorry. What I meant is, you read?” She changes her tone slightly.
“I like to keep my brain fresh, so yes, I am an avid reader.”
“How many books are in here?” She motions around the room.
“Thousands. I’m not sure. I’ve never taken the tally. I take it you like books?” I ask her.
“Extremely. If I were home right now, my head would be between the pages of a book, or I would be swiping through pages on my eReader. I’m an equal-opportunity reader. As long as I’m reading, I’
m happy.”
“Noted. Anyway, shall we go? I hate to pull you away from what may seem like your own personal heaven, but you can explore in here later.”
“Later?” she asks, as I put my hand on her elbow and escort her to the elevator. I ignore her inquiry and the questions in her eyes.
I didn’t take the time to appreciate properly how marvelous Bella looks until we’re standing in the press line to enter into the gala. Of course, this gala is Hollybrooke's single most important event of the year and the who’s who of the city is in attendance tonight.
Bella is a vision in a burgundy-colored gown embellished with black beads in a floral pattern that glisten when they catch the light and when the embellishments end at her hips, the dress calls attention to her elegant figure every time she moves. The lower part of her dress from her mid-thighs down to her toes is black satin with a slit up her right side showing off her long, shapely leg. The keyhole back showcases her soft ivory skin and shows a hint of a hidden tattoo. The bust is modest with a heavy amount of the embellished beads angling towards her bust and disbursing more evenly towards her waist. I see the goosebumps rise on her forearms from the sudden contact with me and wrap my arm around her waist.
“Don't be afraid of the cameras and the lights. Just smile and follow what I do. You'll be great. You look breathtaking, by the way,” I whisper to her as we approach the photographers. She smells heavenly, like flowers in the breeze, as my nose lightly brushes against her hair as I speak softly into her ear.
She fits perfectly under my arm, and she doesn’t seem to be taken aback by my move to hold her close. We’ve approached our turn and we pose for the cameras and the parade of questions that are generally asked of everyone.
“Benjamin! Benjamin! Mr. Adams, over here! Who is your date? How long have you two been together? Who are you wearing? What's next for you?”
We turn from camera to camera and smile for several minutes before going on our way. At the end of the red carpet, my arm is still around her. I shift and take her elbow to help her balance as we head up the stairs together, then through the double doors that open as we approach.
The Brute Page 2