Authors: Coco Cadence
Suddenly a beeping noise ensues.
I look up and find Leo pressing his finger on a button that immediately cancels the call.
I sigh out loud. “That could’ve been important.”
“
This
is important, too.” He points his finger between the two of us. “You might not see it, Miss Webber, but this is very, very important to me.”
“Oh, I see it all right,” I say, putting down the phone. “Clearly.”
“I don’t think I’ve been clear enough. When I say I don’t want to pick up the phone, I didn’t mean you could do it for me.”
“Sorry that I put your best interests first,
Sir.
”
His eyes narrow when he hears that word; his lips twitch, not quite forming a smile.
“Hmmm …” It sounds like he’s humming or … moaning.
I swallow away the lump in my throat. Dammit, I can’t think about stuff like that. Jesus, why’d I have to say that word? I’ve only given him more fodder to feed me with, and I don’t mean the good kind. He’ll tease me with this, I’m sure of it.
“I will see you tomorrow, Miss Webber.”
“I thought you wanted to talk some more?”
“No … never mind. I just remembered I have things to do.” He clears his throat. “Regardless, you will do this for me.”
“Is that a question or an order?”
He smiles. “Do you have to ask?”
“I suppose not,” I say, getting up from the chair.
“Stop.”
I cease in the middle of my movement.
His eyes skim my face, then down my body, passing my cleavage as well as my skirt. Shit, now I’m flushing again. Why is he looking at me like I’m some kind of juicy beefsteak? Hmmm, although thinking about that makes me hungry now. Damn.
“What?”
“Shhh,” he interrupts.
I raise an eyebrow, slamming my lips shut as he keeps engorging my body with just his eyes. Briefly, I glance down at my own outfit, suddenly overcome with the urge to prove to myself that I did actually put on some clothes today and that I’m not naked. Nope, no skin showing. Phew.
When he’s done, he looks up at my eyes again with a big smile on his face. “You can go now.”
I frown. “What … uh … was that?”
“Nothing. I just have to think about something.” He blinks. “I’ll call you if I need you. Bye, Miss Webber.”
I scoot the chair back, still confused about what the hell is going on, but I’ll take this as a sign to leave quickly before he comes up with more excuses to keep me here.
Whatever is going on, it’s totally weird, even for him, and that’s saying something. He’s always weird but never this weird. It’s like he’s suddenly discovered I’m a woman or something. That, or he was blatantly checking me out.
Nah. I’m going crazy.
Time for some sweet … dark … delicious … Snickers.
----------------------------------
FROM: [email protected]
I’m horny. Let’s start our game.
A.
----------------------------------
FROM: [email protected]
Whoa, not even a ‘hi’? What’s up with you?
Xx
S.
----------------------------------
FROM: [email protected]
Sorry, Princess. Tough day at work. Wanna play? If you’re up for it, of course.
A.
----------------------------------
FROM: [email protected]
I want to see more of you before I say yes.
Xx
S.
----------------------------------
FROM: [email protected]
More of what? My cock?
A.
----------------------------------
FROM: [email protected]
Cock is always good, but I’d like to see your smile. That would be nice. Any smile would be nice right now …
Xx
S.
----------------------------------
FROM: [email protected]
Never mind.
A.
----------------------------------
I frown, gazing at my screen. Jesus, did he just blow me off because I didn’t want to participate in his game without him showing me more? Is a picture of his lips so hard to do? Men …
Shaking my head, I sigh and close my laptop. I was serious when I said I would play if he showed me some more, but I was really in need of something … sweet. Just once, a guy who doesn’t want to use me would be nice.
I think Mr. Awesome had a very bad day because he normally never acts like this. At least not to me. I hope it’ll blow over soon; otherwise, I’m afraid I can’t continue our little affair. I don’t do dipshits, and I certainly am not interested in a one-way-please.
Groaning, I flop down on my bed and close my eyes. Guess I’ll have to do the job myself tonight. This lust isn’t going anywhere if I don’t make it go away, and I have the perfect toy sitting in my closet. Time to make use of my good old fantasy.
I just have to ignore the fact that it was Leo who got me this annoyed and riled up at the same time.
***
The next day…
My phone buzzes, waking me up way too early for my comfort. It’s Friday, one of my two days that I have off from work, and now is the time Leo decides to text me. While wiping the sand from my eyes, I check his message.
Check your mailbox. I had something delivered to you today. Let me know when you have it. It’s important.
“Yes, Sir,” I reply in the air, but then immediately shut my mouth because I know I sound ridiculous talking to myself. Guess there’s no such thing as a day off in Leo King’s book.
I scoot up from the bed, put on a robe and a pair of slippers, and then make my way outside. I speed walk down the path to pull open the mailbox and quickly take out whatever’s inside. There’s no package, however. I return to my home with all the papers in my hand. Just before I close the door behind me, something hits the back of my head. It all drops to the floor, and as I turn around I put my hand on my head to check for injuries. The newspaper boy just flew by on his bicycle. I guess he forgot I’m capable of throwing back a brick. Too bad he’s already too far ahead.
“Little shit!” I yell, which he hears, but then he sticks out his tongue, only angering me more.
I swear, one day, I’ll be charged with assault for strangling both him
and
my boss.
Sighing, I start picking up all the mail, when I notice there’s a peculiar one sticking out. Something handwritten without an address on it. If this is from Leo, he sure went through some trouble to keep this far away from any official system. He actually got someone to deliver it straight to my home. Talk about invading my privacy.
Shivering, I go back inside and open his envelope first. Inside is a fucking credit card.
Oh, my god.
Samantha: What is this?
Leo: I want you to go shopping today. Get yourself some nice new clothes.
Samantha: I can’t pay for this. Please, don’t send me this.
Leo: Relax, it’s on me. Don’t worry about paying me back. I put it on the business tab so it’s all deductible.
He didn’t just say that, did he? Jesus, he put ‘buying clothes’ on the business tab?
Samantha: It’s not really ‘work’, so that’s illegal and you know it.
Leo: Who cares? Just buy something nice for yourself. Go out shopping with your friend. Spend as much as you like.
Samantha: Okay, but you gotta promise me this isn’t some kind of trick. I’d hate to be indebted to you for the rest of my life.
Leo: It isn’t a trick; you have my word. If there’s anyone indebted, it’s me. I owe you some, so take it. I will not accept a refusal.
Samantha: Okay, but if you’re lying and I end up in jail, you know whose ass I’ll be scribbling on my cell wall.
Leo: *laughing* I can’t wait for you to come after my ass in that imaginary vendetta. If you wanted to have my ass, all you had to do was ask.
I’m ramming the touchscreen buttons with my fingers now.
Samantha: Sorry, but I’m way more content with my own ass than your flat one, thank you very much.
Leo: I am, too. With your ass, that is.
Samantha: Are we going to talk about my lady humps now, or are you done?
Leo: I’m never done talking about lady humps. Especially yours. They’re so round and … full. Has anyone ever told you that?
I roll my eyes. What is he trying? Why is he so onto me now? I don’t get it. It must be some kind of cruel joke. That, or I’m really losing it because Leo King cannot genuinely be interested in me. Can he?
Samantha: Yes, actually, I’ve been told plenty of times that I have a fat booty, and I’m not afraid to show it.
Leo: I know you’re not afraid to show it. You’re not fat, though. I’d like to consider myself a connoisseur on the topic.
Samantha: No wonder you spend so much time in that tiny office of yours. You must be inspecting booty all day long on your computer. I figured you were the type. No wonder I’m left doing all the work.
Leo: Ouch, Sam … you hurt me…
Sam? Sam? Since when did I become Sam? This is getting way too personal. It’s making me flush.
Leo: My ego, that is. There is only one booty I check out regularly, and it’s not via the internet, trust me.
Samantha: Enough talk about booty. I don’t want to think about how I still haven’t done my workout for today.
Leo: Say that again when you’re back in my office later.
Back in his office? I’m guessing this isn’t going to be a free day at all.
Samantha: Why?
Leo: I can help you with that.
Staring at my screen, I swallow away the lump in my throat. He did not just say that.
Samantha: Can we stop playing this game? I’m your personal assistant, and you’re my boss. Let’s stick to professional talk only.
Leo: If that’s what you wish.
Somehow, this little voice inside my head wants to say ‘no, that’s not what I wish,’ but that would go against my rules. The rules that I’d love to ignore, for once, if it wasn’t for the fact that I know he’s a giant dickhead and that this can’t be real. I won’t allow another man to break my heart just because he finds it amusing to do so.
I’m not someone’s play-toy, and I refuse to even pretend to be one.
Samantha: Yes. I have to go now.
That statement creates an unwanted pout on my face. Goddammit, why do I feel this way? Why do I have to like talking to him? I shouldn’t, he’s an arse, and yet I can’t stop smiling and blushing when he makes those comments about me.
I wonder where my old boss has gone and if I can have him back. Hating him was much easier, having clearly defined limits.
Leo: Good. You go dress that big booty up. I can’t wait to see. Good luck!
Goddammit. There goes my heart again, fluttering like it can afford to be hurt.
I guess professional is long lost with us. Or should I say lust?
I guess shopping isn’t all I’m going to do today … to the bar it is!
“That looks amazing!” Stephanie says.
“You think?” I ask, looking at myself in the mirror.
“Like a celebrity, I’d say,” she says.
“Stop it.” I laugh, punching her in the shoulder.
“What? You gotta admit you look fab in that dress, hun.”
I turn around. “But doesn’t it make my ass look like it’s Kim Kardashian’s?”
She sniggers. “Maybe, but that’s a good thing.”
“Why? Who on earth would consider that ‘professional’?”
“If professional was the reason we went shopping, you wouldn’t have brought me to this store, hun. Stop lying to yourself.”
“It
is
only for work.”
“Uhuh … keep telling yourself that. I know better.” She folds her arms.
I blush. “What? Can’t I look nice for once?”
“No girl dresses up like that,” she points at my dress, “for work.” She makes quotation marks with her finger. “Unless she was trying to screw her boss.”
A blush appears on my face.
Her eyes widen. Oh, shit no.
“Omigod, you are trying to screw your boss.”
“No! Oh, no. No, no, no.” The more I say no, the redder my face becomes.
“Oh my god, you have to tell me!” she screams.
“Nothing. There’s nothing to tell. He wants me to dress more … sophisticated. That’s all.”
“My ass, he does. If he wants you all glammed up, that means you’re in business, hun. Oh my god, who is it?” Stephanie asks. “Your new boss or something? No, you have got to be kidding me. It isn’t that Leo King dude, is it?”
“Um …”
“Oh, holy shit, it is! Samantha! You are one lucky-ass bitch, you know that?” She wraps her arms around me, squealing like a high school girl. “I can’t believe it.” She slaps me on the back. “You did it, girl. Good job. That is one fine-ass man.”
“I didn’t do anything, and he isn’t fine at all. He’s a huge prick.”
“Who cares? If he has money, I’d say go for it. You can cross that one thing off the perfect-man list. The others will soon follow.”
“Off
your
list, you mean.”
“Whatever. You know as well as I do, you need a man as well as the money, and this is the perfect combo. It’s only a plus.”
“I’m telling you, we’re
not
dating and this isn’t a thing. This is purely for work.”
She shrugs. “Maybe for you, but not for him. If you’re doing this for him, that means he
wants
you to do it, and that means he’s interested. For sure. All men want a big, fat tush to enjoy.”
I pull the dress down further. “You don’t know that. Besides, he just wants me to look this way for a special event.”
“Right …”
The way she says right sounds unconvincing, but I decide not to get into an argument. She’d only ask for more details, which I’m not even allowed to discuss or else my job and ‘reputation’ might be in danger. Ugh.
Suddenly, my phone buzzes.
“Hold on,” I say, as I walk back into my stall and take my phone from my purse. It’s a text from Leo.
Leo: You done yet? Come to my office when you are. I don’t expect this to take longer than a couple of hours, and you’ve been gone for about four of them now.
Samantha: I specifically remember Friday as being my day off, as well as tomorrow.
Leo: Days off are retracted until further notice.
Samantha: What? You can’t do that.
Leo: I sure can. This is a special contract, and I require your assistance 24 / 7. You’ll regain your free days afterwards.
Samantha: Get that on paper. With your signature.
Leo: Get your lady-humps back here then, and I
will
give it to you.
I’m getting all flustered here in this stall, but I’m not sure if it’s his text or this dress choking the life out of me.
“Is that your boss? It is, isn’t it?” Stephanie says.
Suddenly, she pulls the curtain back, exposing me. I feel watched, so I quickly tuck the phone back into my purse.
Her eyes narrow. “It was him …”
“He just wants me to get back to work.”
“Ha, perfect! You can show off that delicious booty in this perfect dress then.”
She drags me out of the stall, and I can barely grab my purse.
“Wait, my clothes!”
“I’ll grab them while you’re on your way out, don’t worry. Just go pay and get the hell out of here. You just got a booty call!”
“What? No, it’s not like that. At all.”
“Uh-uh. Then make it happen, hun!” She pushes me to the cash register as she bounces on her feet. “Be back in a sec, going to grab your clothes.”
She’s already gone before I can reply.
I pay for the dress by bending over backwards across the table, completely embarrassing myself as they have to scan the tag and remove it for me. I quickly pay and scurry out the door, when Stephanie comes up behind me, scaring the shit out of me for the second time when she starts screaming.
“I’m so excited!”
“I’m glad one of us is.”
“Oh, cheer up, I’m sure he’s not that much of an asshole. This is a good thing. A good opportunity.”
“Right, but he is, and I’m not so sure about all that. But we’ll see.”
“Good, see? You can do it!” she says. “I’ll get back home and cheer you on from the sidelines. Prepare my magic voodoo shit and stuff.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Say a prayer for me while you’re at it.”
“I’m gonna text you in an hour, okay? You have to let me know how it went.”
“Thanks for coming along, Steph,” I say as I walk to my car and she walks to hers.
“Don’t mention it, just keep me updated.”
“I will!” Not. It’s not like I don’t want to, I’m just not allowed. Which is a perfect excuse because I’m not waiting to walk around with a gigantic red face all day.
Stephanie can get a little excited when it comes to fresh man-meat. She likes to eat them whole, plenty a month. I don’t know how she does it. Or how those men even deal with her.
Or maybe I’m just not used to anything.
***
I arrive at work, and people are looking at me like I’m some kind of alien which, of course, makes me squeeze my butt cheeks as I walk to my desk and pretend nothing’s different. Don’t ask; I have no clue why I do it. Must be the nerves.
I drape my coat over my chair and gaze at Leo’s office. He’s lowered all the blinds, not giving even a peek inside. I wonder what in the hell he’s doing in there. For all I know, it’s something that can’t even stand the light of day.
Preparing myself for the worst, I knock on his door and say, “Leo? You there?”
I hear some rummaging, something dropping to the floor, a loud noise, and then his dark, but quavering voice.
“Yeah, come in.”
I slowly open the door, afraid of what I’m going to find. It sounded very much like he wasn’t prepared for me, even though he asked me to come to his office. I wonder what’s up.
It doesn’t take long to find out.
My eyes widen at the sight of his neat suit. My, my, if handsome existed, it would be strutting around this room right now.
“How do I look?” he asks as I peek through the door.
I’m momentarily baffled, and I think he catches me staring at him because there’s a huge smile on his face.
“Good, right?”
“Yeah …” I mutter, trying not to think about how delicious he looks.
“You’re wearing that?”
“To my parents, yeah. You think it’s okay?”
“Of course.” Damn, this assignment just got a whole lot harder.
He cocks his head. “Did you succeed?”
I raise an eyebrow. “In what?”
He laughs. “Tell me you didn’t just waste four hours doing nothing?”
“Oh, right, the shopping.” I almost forgot because of my drooling. Bad Samantha, bad. I clear my throat. “Um …”
“C’mon in. I want to see what you bought,” he says, winking.
I lick my lips, suddenly very aware of this dress plastered around my curvy body. Gathering some courage, I step further inside. His eyes skim me, starting at the bottom all the way to the top, slowly taking me in. He’s taking his time sucking up this image of me, which makes me wonder what in the hell is going through his head.
“Is it any good?” I ask, focusing on the dress instead of his eyes eye-fucking me.
“Oh …” he grunts. He seriously grunts. “Yes.”
I stare at him with raised eyebrows, not able to utter a single word.
“Close the door behind you,” he says.
I do as he says, but then when I turn my head back to him, he’s right in front of me. Instinctively, I take a step back, but I’m already against the door, and there’s no way out.
“It’s more than just ‘good’ …” he murmurs, licking his lips.
Oh Jesus, why did I look at his lips?
“You look like someone who should have dressed like this way long ago.”
My lips quiver. They never quiver. Goddammit, Sam, get your act together!
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” I say, swallowing away the lump in my throat.
He keeps inching closer. I keep trying to push further back into this door, but unfortunately, it’s not made of rubber.
His voice turns raw, laden with testosterone. “It means I think you look … sexy.”
Oh my god, I think I just died.
“Don’t look so surprised.” A smirk appears on his face. “Just because I’m an asshole, doesn’t mean I’m not a man.”
“I never thought you’d–”
“What? That I could ever think a woman like you is sexy?”
“I didn’t say that …”
“No, just you. I know what you’re thinking.” He takes a pluck of my hair and tucks it behind my ear. It feels like I’m dreaming, and I’m almost tempted to pinch my arm just to prove to myself that I am.
“Contrary to what you may think of me, you know nothing about my tastes,” he muses. “And my taste right now is you.”
My lips part. “W-What?”
“Oh, it’s purely for professional reasons, Miss Webber. If we’re to make a convincing couple, we’d have to kiss some time.”
He comes closer and closer, keeping his gaze on me at all times, even though his lips are moving forward. Yep, they’re definitely coming toward mine. Oh, dear lord. Is he actually going to kiss me?
Why am I wondering how good it would feel? Why am I actually hoping he will?
“Uh …” I mutter.
“Let’s start now,” he whispers.
And then he presses his lips onto mine.