by Demi Donovan
It feels like the good old days again, back when it was just me, Parker, Cameron and notebooks full of calculations. Now, Parker and I run a staff of a couple of thousand people, if we factor in the construction plant personnel as well, but the end game remains the same. We just have more people doing the math and the paperwork for us, or at least that’s how I see it.
“Where the fuck is Stacy?” I roar across the floor as I make it up the stairs to the executive offices.
My assistant is nowhere to be seen and I’m fairly certain it’s my fault, not hers. I wouldn’t be able to tell you all the things she does for me, but I know she’s prompt as a whistle and always there when she can be. If she’s not at her desk, it means at one point or another I’ve told her not to be there because of some kind of a meeting or errand or god knows what else.
“She’s out of the building for two hours on the Gemini dossier,” a voice I don’t know answers me, clear and strong.
I frown, looking around for the source of that twinkle of a sound, my eyes stopping on the slender, young frame of a gorgeous creature I’ve definitely never seen. I stall on the spot, staring at her like I’ve just seen a vision. She meets my gaze with a straight back, her stormy gray eyes seeming to stare right through me.
My cock twitches.
“And who might you be?” I query, strolling up to her while shoving one hand in my pocket to shift my bulging manhood so my sudden and unwelcome boner wouldn’t make this situation any more awkward than it needs to be.
“Cassie,” she tells me smartly, standing up and holding out her hand to me. “And you must be Sawyer. Parker told me you had the office right next to his.”
I look at that small hand of hers, the chipped black nail polish on it the only thing hinting that as much as she’s trying to belong, she doesn’t have her disguise down pat yet. She can’t be more than eighteen or nineteen, twenty at best. There’s a hint of a shake now that I look at that hand of hers again and when my palm closes around it, I think I catch her exhaling sharply.
She is not good for me. It’s like someone’s chumming the waters and I’m the hapless shark, drawn to the scent of blood by a primal urge.
“It’s Mr. Layton for you, Cassie,” I say, purposefully carting out the honorifics though we don’t run that kind of a business.
There’s something about this brash girl that makes me want to put her in her place more than I care to admit.
“Oh, sorry, of course, Mr. Layton,” she replies with a blush and I immediately imagine how that pink would spread on her neck and chest as well.
I let go of her hand and find myself wishing I hadn’t.
“You haven’t answered my question, though. I have your name, but why are you here?”
Her desk, which must have been brought in this morning, is across from Cynthia’s, who is Parker’s regular assistant, currently off on maternity leave. Did Parker get himself some eye candy without telling me about it first? I’d be hurt if I didn’t approve of his choice so much.
“I’m the new executive assistant,” she tells me, losing some of her bluster, but not too much of it.
The fact that she can still keep her spine erect as I stare her down is something of note. When she sticks her chin out a little in unspoken defiance, all I want to do is bend her over my knee and spank her until she behaves better.
“Well, isn’t that fortunate,” I growl, my mind reeling with images of her in compromising positions. “I have a task just for you, then.”
I wave at her to follow me and she scrambles to keep up as I head straight for my office. She teeters a little in her black pumps, obviously not used to wearing something like that on a regular basis. I’m more curious about her by the second, and so is my cock – a dangerous combination.
Reminding myself that I have a strict no-fraternization rule for myself seems to be less effective this time than it usually is.
“So what are your qualifications, Cassie?” I ask, enjoying the way her name rolls off my tongue. “What college are you in?”
“None, yet,” she tells me as I make it to my desk and find the folder I had in mind. I cock a brow at her as I turn around and hand it to her, getting another chance to admire her lithe but curvy young body as the light from the large windows frames her beautifully. “I’m finishing high school but I’m here on an… um… internship, I guess you’d call it.”
I frown and she averts her gaze for the first time, the pink getting deeper in her cheeks. We don’t do internships, not for non-engineers anyway, and definitely not for high school students. There’s something fishy going on here but if it means being treated with a distraction like Cassie, I find myself scarcely caring.
“I’m sure Mr. Carlson will fill me in on the details,” I say dismissively, eager to see her walk out of my office now. “Please make triple copies of those documents in the copy room and get them back to me in ten minutes. I need them for my next meeting.”
“You’ve got it, Mr. Layton,” she tells me with a nod, relieved to be allowed to leave, but before she can even fully turn around, I see her hesitating.
“What is it, Cassie?”
A part of me wishes she’d tell me that she’s here for more than a tick on her future resume and the kind of internship she’s looking for can only be administered by me. That same part of me realizes I need to find a distraction for lunch today or I’m going to be a very dangerous man to deal with.
“I… don’t know where the copy room is,” she says, blushing scarlet as she glances at me over her shoulder.
That image of her, standing there, trying to look so damn grown up and falling short just enough etches itself in my brain. I’m not the helping type, I prefer throwing people in at the deep end and seeing if they sink or swim. With her, I want to make certain that she swims.
“And I bet you don’t know how to make copies either, huh?” I grin.
She shakes her head and her mortification is delicious.
Following me like a lamb to the slaughter, I wonder who the one on dangerous ground is right now. Is it the feisty, barely legal, wannabe secretary, or is it the man more than twice her age who should know better than to have a growing hard-on tugging against his slacks in a crowded office?
The copy room for the executive floor is usually quiet. The assistants know to get their work done first thing in the morning so now, almost at lunch, it’s a ghost town. A small, cramped room with big humming machines and low lighting, providing cramped spaces and the necessity to stand close to one another is not the place I should be getting stuck in with this little treat.
I can’t wait, though.
The door closes behind us and I stifle the urge to lock it. What little I have left of my self-control keeps me reminding myself that doing anything would not be appropriate, no matter how much I want it.
“Thank you,” she whispers as she flits past me, heading for the wrong machine.
I chuckle, grabbing her gently by the arm and spinning her toward the right one. She fumbles with the lid of the big industrial Xerox machine and after watching her try to figure it out for a couple of minutes I step in, staying quiet. My arms reach around her and open the folder, taking out a couple of pages and instructing her hands to lay them flat on the glass.
She closes the lid and then I guide her fingers to the right buttons, looking over her shoulder, her body almost pressed against mine. I can’t stand it as I hear her breath hitch a little when my fingertips slip over the inside of her wrist and before I can stop myself, I’ve taken that last step closer, pinning her between me and the Xerox machine.
“We shouldn’t be doing this, Cassie,” I growl, not sure whether I’m trying to tell her this or just myself.
“Doing what, Mr. Layton?” she asks, that snippy, prideful woman that met me a few minutes ago back in full force. “Are you saying you shouldn’t be showing me how to use the copier?” she asks, almost mocking.
“No,” I growl. “I’m saying we shouldn’t be doin
g this.”
Without hesitation, my hand jerks down and yanks up her pencil skirt. My hand trails up her inner thigh as my cock presses against her ass. I shove her legs apart and she yelps, breathless.
“You’re an insolent little slut, aren’t you?” I ask, my breath on her ear.
“No more than you’re a lecherous old man,” she snips back, but her ass is flush against my cock now and as my fingers make it to her black panties, I can feel how moist they are.
“Your daddy never taught you manners,” I tell her, Vixen’s penchant for the word apparently having stuck with me.
But where Vixen was never going to be the kind of woman I’d want to teach a lesson to, this headstrong thing definitely is.
“I know my manners well enough,” she says, but it’s more of a whine as I push the panties aside and let my fingertips wet against the soft lips of her pussy.
She’s not shaven, but she is trimmed, and I don’t remember the last time I was so fucking hard. I flick her clit and she spasms wildly so I reach around her, pulling her to me with one palm on her gorgeous tits.
“I think you have no fucking idea, little girl,” I tell her, fucking lost in the moment as my finger slips into her welcoming and oh so fucking tight pussy.
She stills in my hold but then a moan slips past her lips, so beautiful and so fucking rewarding. Her palms are pressed flat on the lid of the copier as I tease her pussy, loving the way she twitches and writhes in my arms.
“Oh my god,” she whimpers as I shove another finger in her, finding her so impossibly tight around me.
“What is it, Cassie?” I mock. “Is this too much for you? Have you gotten too much of a lesson for one day?”
I shouldn’t be saying any of this. This is the clearest case of sexual harassment I can imagine, or at least she could play it off that way if she wanted to take me to court. I’ve never lost my control like this before but I’m fucking unwilling to let her go, not before she’s a puddle of purring satisfaction in my arms.
She’s wearing thigh-high stockings and I want to see them better. Pushing her back forward now, I yank her skirt up with my free hand, never relenting on fingering her cunt. Her ass is perfect, lily fucking white, begging to be spanked.
“You should respond when you’re spoken to, Cassie. It’s rude not to.”
“Is that what gets you off?” she snaps back. “Good manners?”
Fuck.
My palm is flat on her ass before my brain can stop me and she yelps. I do it again.
“Is that what you wanted to say to me?” I grit through clenched teeth.
“Yes,” she hisses back. “That’s exactly what I want to tell my new boss as he fingerbangs his virgin intern in the copy room five minutes after meeting her.”
A virgin. Of course she is.
My eyes narrow as I let my fingers roll over her clit a couple more times, her whole body shaking. I know she’s close. I know she’s trying to get a rise out of me, and to be fair, she fucking succeeded at it.
The problem is, now I just want her that much worse.
“Manners,” I repeat. “You’re going to have to learn some fucking manners before you get any more, Cassie.”
I let go of her and reluctantly, my fingers leave her pussy. She watches me as I suck them clean in my mouth, having to steel myself to keep from falling on my knees at the first taste and shoving my face between her legs. She’s sweet as fucking apple pie.
Her eyes are wide as she stares at me, disheveled and denied her orgasm. I pull her panties back into place and admire the pink handprint on her ass before yanking her skirt down over it before anyone can walk in on us. The tiny room smells like pussy. Like her pussy.
“Get me those copies.”
With that, I leave the copy room and head straight for the executive bathroom to jerk off like a fucking fiend. I must be losing my goddamn mind.
Who is this girl and why did she have to appear in my life?
Eight
Cassie
I’m still shaking like a leaf as Parker shows me to a seat in a fancy little restaurant close to the main SCP Limited building. The walk over just about killed me, my legs are still Jell-O and my pussy feels like it’s on fire.
I can’t believe I let Sawyer Layton finger me. I can’t believe I let anyone finger me, but least of all the guy my dad has so much hate and disappointment for.
My head’s spinning as the waiter hands me a menu and I nod dumbly as Parker asks me whether I want spring or still water. He gives me a look and I hide behind my menu, pretending to really try and figure out what I want for lunch.
“Everything all right, Cassie?” he asks, cocking a brow.
It’s similar to the look Sawyer gave me, but the predatory might is kept sternly leashed with Parker. I feel like with him, it’s under the surface, tucked away and only used when he needs it. With Sawyer, he wears it right on his cuff, his might for the world to see.
And for me to experience, I guess.
“Uh-huh,” I mumble, untwisting my tongue. “Everything’s fine, thank you. First day nerves, I guess.”
First day nerves, my ass. It has far more to do with the fact that for the first time in my life, a man has given me pleasure. I should have said no, and I have no doubt Sawyer would have stopped had I asked him to, but the problem is that I didn’t want him to stop. In fact, I wanted him to keep going.
I wanted to see what that big cock that was poking against my ass looked like and what his talented fingers could do if he really let loose on me. I wanted it all and I can’t believe I had as much as I did.
And when I look at Parker, I’m overcome with incredible guilt that he wasn’t my first experience.
My phone buzzes in my purse, ignored by me. Parker gives it a look but doesn’t comment as the waiter brings us our water. My throat is parched, I’m thankful for the drink.
“Have you met Sawyer yet?” Parker asks, causing me to almost spray him with water. I bring my hand to my mouth, coughing and spluttering.
“I’m okay,” I wheeze, motioning for Parker not to get up.
The gentleman that he is, he was going to come and try and help me. That’s just the kind of guy he is. Caring, sweet… incredibly, devastatingly hot… And I went and let his partner fingerbang me, the one who he was trying to keep me a secret from.
Good going, Cassie.
“I did,” I say finally as the first shock passes and we’ve given our lunch orders. “Just for a bit, though.”
Parker visibly tenses.
“Did you… How should I put this… Did you tell him who you are?”
I look up tentatively, before shaking my head.
“No, I didn’t tell him my last name, if that’s what you’re asking. Just my first name and that I am the new executive assistant.”
I neglect to add all the other things we did together, but I think that’s best for everyone that I don’t. Parker relaxes and a smile graces his lips. It’s unfair how handsome he is. I keep catching other women glancing at him when they think no one’s going to notice them doing so, but I do. I’m proud to be sharing a table with him.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but let’s keep it like that. I want to talk to Sawyer about you personally. Your father and he...”
“They have some history,” I finish for Parker, nodding. “I know. I’ve heard. Not much, but… you know, enough to get why this is awkward. All the more reason for me to be very thankful that you’re doing this for me, Parker.”
“I’m certain you won’t let me down, Cassie,” he says, reaching over the table to squeeze my hand for a moment.
It sends warmth and flutters and… guilt zapping through me. I shouldn’t have let Sawyer touch me. I shouldn’t want to touch Sawyer.
But I still do. So, it’s still a problem I’m going to have to deal with.
All throughout the lunch, my phone keeps vibrating and I keep ignoring it. We have a lovely meal, Parker stating that it’s celebratory for me
living through my first morning, but I know it’s just his way of making certain that I’m all right because he was stuck in meetings. I appreciate it, and I appreciate him.
When the phone rings for what must be the tenth time just as our desserts are being brought in, it’s Parker who gets fed up with it.
“Do you need to answer that? Starting to seem important.”
“I… ugh, lemme see,” I stammer, shaking the phone out of the bucket bag I’m yet to get a hang of.
The screen flashes Mark and I barely suppress my groan.
“Go ahead, I don’t mind,” Parker tells me, waving me off.
I nod, give one regretful look at my chocolate parfait, and then grab the phone and leave the table.
“What is it, Mark?” I snap into the phone the moment I get to the back door.
I step out into a gorgeous patio, thankfully still empty because it’s a cloudy day and not warm enough to dine out yet.
“Is that how you say hello to your boyfriend? You disappeared on me, sweetie. Where are you?”
His voice is sly, like he knows more than he’s letting on. He’s also never called me his sweetie, or referred to himself as my boyfriend. At best he always stressed that what we had was ‘open in its best way’, meaning he was probably fucking around while I was pining for him like a dumb little girl.
“I’m in Massachusetts,” I say with a sigh, realizing there’s no easy way out of this conversation. “It’s a family thing. I’m going to be here for a while.”
“A family thing? I didn’t know your family was fucking loaded, sweetie. If that’s the case, you should have been swiping me more than the measly twenty bucks from your mom’s wallet,” he laughs, making my insides twist with that oh so familiar guilt again.
Yes, I used to steal from my mom. I did it a couple of times. I shoplifted, too. I don’t do either anymore. Mark has been dying to understand why I stopped, but I don’t think he would understand my reasoning, so I never told him. I’m not about to, now.
“My family is not ‘loaded’. Why would you think that?”