Charlie

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Charlie Page 6

by Davis, Siobhan


  The logical part of my brain concurs it’s a smart plan. The arrogant side of my personality calls bullshit on the need for it. I’m already proving to be a fast learner and a natural leader, and my appetite for knowledge is above reproach. I hate that I’m wasting my mornings on campus, because that’s exactly what it feels like to me. Parkhurst prepared us well for assuming responsibility within our family businesses, and I’ve already covered a lot of ground. But I have no choice unless I want to relinquish my control over the business by failing to deliver on Dad’s successor planning.

  “I’d like to sit in on the meeting,” Arthur says, as I add creamer to my coffee.

  “I’ve got it covered.” I dare him to challenge me with a sharp look.

  He purses his lips before nodding. “As you wish. I look forward to reading your report. I’ve heard some favorable things about him, and if the system he’s developed is as good as it claims to be, we need to be all over it. I’d like to tie him down to an exclusive contract so he can’t take it elsewhere.”

  “If it’s suitable and it offers efficiencies and cost savings, we’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse,” I agree.

  We end our conversation, heading to our respective offices, and I leave my door ajar, settling in behind my desk to wait for my PA to arrive.

  Demi shows up forty-five minutes before official opening time, and I watch her hang up her coat and power up her computer like a sneaky Peeping Tom. She hasn’t noticed my door is slightly open. She hasn’t even glanced this way. Because she presumes I’m at college, like usual.

  She removes some files from her desk drawer, pops on her headphones, and begins typing away.

  My lips twitch as I wonder if this is her game plan. If she’s going to pretend like nothing happened.

  If she wants me to make the first move, I’m down with that. I pick up my desk phone and press the button to summon her.

  Startled, she visibly jumps in her seat, and I watch her gaze grow wide as she stares at the phone like it’s going to grow teeth and bite her. An involuntary grin spreads across my mouth as her head jerks up in the direction of my office. Her face pales when she spots me, and I mentally rub my hands in glee.

  I’m starting to see why Anderson enjoyed playing the asshole with Abby. Although, in his case, there was minimal acting involved. Because the guy’s a bona fide douche.

  I curl my fingers at her in a come hither gesture, never taking my eyes off her as she stands, smoothing a hand down the front of her wrinkled black pencil skirt. She snatches her notepad and pen, and I examine every inch of her as she walks toward me, noticing how badly she’s trying to hide her fear. She holds her head up high as she enters my office.

  “Shut the door,” I command, swiveling in my chair as I tap my Montblanc pen on the top of my desk.

  Her hands are shaking as she shuts the door, but she quickly composes herself, tipping her chin up and fixing me with a determined look. She walks to my desk, and I point at one of the empty chairs in front of it with my pen. “Sit.”

  She slides onto the chair, crossing one slim leg over the other, and I catch a glimpse of the lacy top of her stockings. My cock jerks behind my zipper, and I silently caution the beast to calm down.

  “What do you need, Mr. Barron?” she asks, adopting the formal tone she uses in the office.

  “An explanation, Ms. Alexander.” I drill her with a dark look. “I believe I made myself perfectly clear Saturday night.”

  She puts her notepad down on her lap, clasping her hands on top of it. “I was hoping we could agree to put that incident behind us. We’d both been drinking, and I’m sure we said things we didn’t mean.”

  I lean forward in my chair, placing my pen down. I rest my elbows on the desk and stare at her. She’s wearing her dark hair up in an elegant chignon, exposing the delicate column of her slender neck. Her pretty lips are coated in a light layer of gloss, and her gorgeous big, brown eyes are rimmed by a layer of long, fat lashes.

  She truly has the most stunning face.

  Perfectly symmetrical in its beauty.

  If she was taller, I bet every modeling agency in town would be beating a path to her door.

  My gaze drops to her mouth, and an image of her plump lips wrapped around my cock has me straining painfully in my pants.

  I force myself to focus. “Don’t presume to put words in my mouth. I assure you, I was perfectly sober,” I lie.

  Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips, and my eyes are like heat-seeking missiles tracking the movement.

  “I apologize for my behavior,” she says, her voice ringing out loud and confidently. She stares me directly in the face, and her solemn expression conveys the truth of her words. “It was disrespectful, completely beneath me, and I promise you nothing like that will ever happen again.”

  I quirk a brow. “Am I expected to take you at your word?”

  She’s momentarily flustered. “Yes. You’ve worked with me long enough to know I’m reliable. If I tell you I’ll do something, I do it.”

  That’s true. I doubt being a personal assistant is her dream job, but I can’t deny her commitment. She throws herself into every task with professionalism and enthusiasm, and I haven’t made it easy on her.

  But she never complains.

  She just gets on with things.

  I know Arthur believes she has untapped potential, and she’s popular with the other secretaries and assistants.

  Demi is a good girl.

  Far too good for someone like me.

  Which is why she really should keep her distance, because I’m not convinced I have the tenacity to stay away from her for much longer.

  “And if I tell you that’s not good enough. That you crossed a line you can’t come back from, what would you say?” Adrenaline races through my veins at the sheer panic etched upon her beautiful face.

  “Please, Charlie. You know why I need this job.”

  “This isn’t a charity. Save your sob story because that truly is beneath you.” I’m being an asshole on purpose, because I want to poke the beast.

  Fire blazes in her eyes, and her legendary backbone makes an appearance. Demi’s natural inclination is to appease, and she doesn’t court conflict. But that doesn’t mean she’s a pushover. When challenged, she can more than hold her own. For months, I’ve pushed and pushed her, and she is well capable of fighting back.

  I silently encourage her to go on.

  “I have other stories I could tell,” she says, sitting up straighter. The vein in her neck pulses as she grows more animated. “I think the media would love to hear how the new president is nothing more than a bully who gets off on abusing and belittling his PA. Or how a company, who prides itself on its traditional family image, tossed a loyal employee to the curb the minute he was no longer of any use to them. I’m betting they would pay handsomely for such a story.”

  I wonder if she actually has the balls to do it. I think if I pushed hard enough, she would. But that’s a nightmare the PR people would not thank me for, and I’m still the new guy at the top, so deliberately ruffling feathers would not be intelligent.

  “You signed a nondisclosure agreement, as did your father when he accepted our severance package. No one forced either of you to sign.” I stand and walk around the desk, towering over her on purpose. “You breathe one derogatory word about me, or the company, and we will take legal action. You won’t have a penny to your name by the time we’re done.” It’s not an idle threat. I will go all out to protect what is mine.

  “You can’t threaten me!” She rises, waving her finger in my face. “I’ll file a complaint with the ACLU. There are laws to protect employees who are victimized in the workplace, NDA or not!”

  A red stain creeps up her neck and onto her cheeks, and I’m quite partial to that aggressive, flushed look on her face. My cock agrees, aching against my zipper.

  Visions of Demi handcuffed to my bed, on all fours, with her reddened ass sticking up in the air, dance ac
ross my mind’s eye, turning my erection rock hard.

  I can’t remember the last time I was this hot for a woman.

  If ever.

  If she looks down, there will be no disguising how much this turns me on.

  How much she turns me on.

  This is the most fun I’ve had in ages, and I’ve zero desire to dial down my assholishness.

  I push into her personal space, and she stumbles back, falling into the chair. I plant my hands on either side of her, gripping the armrests, as I lean my face super close to hers. I angle my head, pressing my mouth to her ear. My warm breath fans across her delicate skin, raising tiny goose bumps along her sensitive flesh. I remember how responsive she was to my touch, and the craving to touch her again is almost too much.

  “Were you victimized when you lowered your wet pussy down on my throbbing cock?” I whisper in her ear. “Or when you scraped your nails up and down my back, leaving marks?” I run my nose up the column of her neck, and I’m dangerously close to losing control.

  Her body trembles underneath me, and she’s holding herself rigidly still, fighting this crazy desire pulsing between us.

  “Answer me,” I snap before pressing my mouth to the underside of her jaw.

  A tiny whimper flies out of her mouth. “I’m not referring to that, and you know it.”

  “There is an easy way to settle this,” I say, clasping hold of her wrist. “If this job means that much to you, I can let your disgraceful behavior pass if your apology is sincere enough.”

  “It is!” she cries, lifting her eyes and staring at me.

  I push off the chair and straighten up, leveling her with a heated stare that comes from pure, visceral need. “Prove it.”

  Her eyes narrow suspiciously but she doesn’t shy away. “How?”

  “Unzip my pants, get on your knees, and suck me off. Do a good job, and I’ll forget Saturday night ever existed.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Demi

  “You can’t be serious?” My voice elevates a few octaves as panic swaddles me.

  “As a heart attack,” he coolly replies. His dark gaze challenges me, but I can’t figure out if it’s a test. Does he want me to obey or fight him on it?

  I stand, and our chests brush in the process, sending a wave of heat flooding through me. Ignoring my cursed libido, I glare at him. “I’m not blowing you. That is unethical, illegal, and downright disgusting.”

  He smirks, and the urge to slap him again is riding me hard.

  “Let’s not pretend, Demi.” He places his thumb on my neck, just underneath my jawline, right in the spot where my pulse is jumping like crazy. “There would be nothing disgusting about it, and we both know it.”

  He cocks his head to the side as his thumb swipes back and forth across my overly sensitive flesh. “I know you’re a good girl, Demi. Everyone can see that.” He leans in close to my face, lining his lips up with mine, keeping scant distance between us.

  At this proximity, his spicy, woodsy scent assaults me, holding me prisoner, ensuring I can’t move a muscle.

  “But I also know you’re a naughty, dirty girl.” He presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “And I’m guessing that side of you hasn’t been explored.” He trails his hand up the side of my thigh, over my skirt, but I still feel his touch skin-deep. “I know you want to do it, dirty girl. You want to sink to your knees and let me fuck your mouth until you’re gagging and choking and enjoying every mouthwatering moment.” He grips my hip hard, and I gasp, the pain sending a torrent of heat to my core.

  A switch flicks in my brain, and I shove at his chest, pushing him back a couple steps. “You know nothing, Mr. Barron. I’m not some cheap whore you can manipulate. I have more self-respect.” A thought pops into my head, and I blurt it out before I can stop myself. “I hear Manning Motors is recruiting,” I lie. “Perhaps I’ll send them my resume.” It’s a deliberate punch to the gut, because Manning Motors is the company owned by Abby’s family. If my research is correct, Abby works there part-time alongside her twin brother, Drew.

  The change in Charlie’s temperament is swift, fierce, and borderline concerning. I’ve barely time to register the fury in his eyes before his hands wrap around my throat and he pushes me across the room, slamming my back up against the wall beside the door.

  “You know nothing, Ms. Alexander, or you’d know better than to go there.”

  My heart is pounding in my chest, and every nerve ending in my body is on high alert. Blood rushes to my head, and my panties are soaked with need as adrenaline surges through my body. Charlie presses the length of his body against me, and I feel his hard erection nudge against my stomach as he strokes my neck with his thumbs. His fingers are still wrapped around my throat, and I’m weirdly aroused where a sane woman would be scared out of her freaking mind. But Charlie’s harsh touch awakens dark desires hidden deep inside me, and I don’t want to stop this.

  He glares at me as his lips descend, slamming down on mine with brutal force. His hands leave my throat, cradling the nape of my neck firmly as he destroys my mouth with a slew of violent kisses. I know I should push him away, but my body is way too invested, and I’m kissing him back with the same fervor, my hands gripping his waist and holding him flush to my body so I can feel every inch of his ripped form.

  He pushes his tongue into my mouth, and I groan as I writhe against him, my body wired and primed to explode.

  He kisses me like he’s eating me. Tasting, biting, and sucking, and I’m clawing at him, desperate for more, unwilling to let this end. His hand around my neck is possessive as he angles my head, directing the kiss, diving even deeper, while rocking his hips against my pelvis, his need clearly as severe as my own.

  Without warning, he rips his mouth from mine, unbuckles his belt and lets his pants fall to his ankles. He drills me with a look that’s so intense I feel stripped naked. “Wrap your lips around my cock, baby. I need to feel your hot mouth on me.”

  I open my mouth, to say what I’m not sure, but he shakes his head, rubbing his thumb along my bruised lower lip. “Don’t fight it. We both want this.”

  I’m clearly insane, or high on lust, because I push off the wall, grab the band of his boxers, and shove them down his muscular thighs, freeing his impressive cock. It springs up, long, thick, and inviting, and I wet my lips in anticipation, brushing my thumb along the bead of precum covering his crown. Charlie pushes on my shoulders, forcing me to the ground. I glare at him as I settle on my knees. He grins. “Open your mouth, baby, and suck my cock.”

  I grab hold of his left thigh to steady myself before taking him into my mouth.

  He’s an impatient bastard, thrusting forward immediately, and I gag as he hits the back of my throat. Tears leak out of my eyes as I force my mouth wider to accommodate him. He starts moving in and out as I slide my lips up and down his hard length. With my free hand, I grip the base of his cock and start pumping him aggressively.

  He throws back his head, groaning as I hit my stride, sucking him harder and harder, while I frantically pump his shaft.

  “Fuck, yes, baby. Just like that.”

  He jabs his hips forward as he grabs hold of the back of my head, holding me in place. Then, he fucks my mouth with no consideration for me, and I work in tandem with his movements, ignoring the tears streaming from my eyes and the gagging sensation each time he hits the back of my throat.

  It’s filthy, degrading, and seriously fucking hot, and I suck him off with determination, wanting his cum filing my mouth.

  He growls low, and his entire body tenses, and that’s the only warning I get as he shoots warm, salty cum straight down my throat. He continues pulsing and jerking inside me until I’ve swallowed every last drop. Pulling out, he yanks his pants up before lifting me up by the hips and throwing me over his shoulder.

  Before I can protest, he drapes me across the width of his desk, shoving papers aside and bunching my skirt up to my waist. A shrill tear echoes through the electrically c
harged air as he rips my lace panties into shreds.

  My chest heaves, and liquid warmth rushes my core when he nudges my thighs aside, parting the folds of my pussy and diving in with his seductive lips.

  “Oh my God.” I stretch my arms up over my head, grabbing the edge of the desk to steady myself as my boss works me into a frenzy in record time with his magical fingers and tongue. When he places his thumb against the crack of my ass and pushes it in a little, I shatter explosively, biting down hard on my lip and drawing blood as I bottle up the scream dying to let loose.

  I don’t move when he withdraws, lying stretched across his desk with floppy limbs that feel incapable of working. My heart thumps behind my rib cage as I attempt to steady my breathing and recalibrate my brain.

  What the hell have I done?

  I find the strength to sit up and pull my skirt down, covering myself as I stare at the torn strips of my panties littering the floor around Charlie’s desk. I lift my head, and my gaze locks on his.

  We stare silently at one another, electricity fizzing in the air along with so many unspoken sentiments. His stoic mask is in place, and I can’t get a read on him until he clears his throat abruptly. “Grab your shit and get back to your desk,” he says in that robotic tone he uses on me sometimes. He looks away, tucking himself properly behind his pants and tightening his belt in place.

  His dismissal isn’t all that strange, but it’s hurtful in the extreme. He is so closed off. So cold after something so wickedly intimate, and I’m not the kind of girl who lets a guy do that and then reject her.

  Aren’t you? my vicious inner voice taunts, because it’s not like this is the first time I’ve let him use me.

  I want to say something, anything, but a messy ball of emotion clogs my throat, blocking any form of communication. I slide off the desk, crouching down and collecting the remnants of my panties. I round his desk, tossing the scraps in the trash can, fighting to maintain what little dignity I have left. Shame and hurt bubble inside me as I reach for my notepad and pen.

 

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