Read Mr. Young (Seducing Mr Young) Online

Authors: Katelyn Skye

Tags: #billionaire, #billionaire romance, #billionaire erotica, #billionaire boss, #billionaire alpha male, #billionaire bachlors

Mr. Young (Seducing Mr Young)

Mr Young:
Seducing Mr. Young

Katelyn
Skye

Published by
Katelyn Skye

at
Smashwords

Copyright ©
2013 Katelyn Skye

This book is a
work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are
products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously
and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons,
living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely
coincidental.

All rights
reserved

No part of this
book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner
whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the
case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and
reviews.

Prelud
e

She felt him
bouncing off her buttocks rhythmically with a half-embarrassing
‘slap’ sound every time his skin smacked against hers. She grit her
teeth as she thought about how long she had been on all fours,
leaning forwards on her elbows as the man behind her drove inside
her over and over again. As usual, she felt very little.

It was the end
of University, and Connie had treated herself to a ‘final fling’
with Joel – apparently the most handsome and reputable lover on
campus. She had, with the arrogance of a woman in her final year of
study, merely asked him back to hers, no preliminaries, no strings.
And things had started well enough…

Joel was a
careful lover that was for sure. He treated Connie as though she
was made of glass; peeling off her trousers, shirt and underwear so
delicately she felt gooseflesh rising on her skin. He teased over
her rising flesh with his breath and his tongue, lapping at her
stiffening nipples and making her gasp. She felt reassured that the
evening was finally going to be worth her while.

Connie had had
so many disappointments over the years. Men who finished too
quickly, men who never finished at all and those who seemed to
think her orgasm was simply an added bonus, if it happened at all.
Joel, she had hoped, was going to be a wonderful exception.

She had felt
herself becoming wet and ready almost immediately – and she loved
the twitch of her partner’s cock as he took in the sight of her
wet, open and pink sex. She welcomed him in, but there the journey
ended. It was as though Joel had never heard of her clitoris, never
considered the rhythm she might enjoy, and just like the multitude
of lovers she had enjoyed through University, she found the man set
on his single-minded journey to his own satisfaction, with hers
just a memory of a forgotten promise. Just once, she would have
liked to finish her evening on a high.

She was
disappointed, once again. She grit her teeth as the almost
sensation-less encounter came to a close. Joel shuddered and gasped
and collapsed onto her back and she let her knees give way,
ignoring the kisses and caresses. She just felt empty – the
emptiness of her soul as well as the emptiness of her sex. As
Joel’s body went slack, she glanced over at her desk and the job
offer that had landed on her doormat just that morning. Maybe in
the big city, she could forget about men, forget about those who
did not satisfy her.

Or maybe the
city held promise of finding the real Mr. Right.

Chapter
One

Constance Green
rode the elevator up and up and up. Through the sheer glass walls
she could see the blurred mirage of the city fly past her, and then
dip below as she rose higher above the smaller office blocks that
clustered around Young Towers.

Young Towers
was the shining beacon of the City. It attracted unsolicited
jobseekers on a daily basis and the bosses had their pick of the
talent rolling in from the Universities, Colleges and graduate
programs the world over. But Connie was no young go-getter. She had
not even been on a graduate program. She was clean out of
University with a communications degree fresh in her folder. She
was not at Young Towers to beg for a job, either. Unlike most of
their staff, Connie had actually been invited to apply – the mark
of her success at getting the highest marked Double First in the
country. The job, however, did not seem as glamorous as she had
initially hoped. Firstly, she had to make her own way from the
train station, through the Metro tunnels and then to the Towers.
And then there was the job’s title: Personal Assistant. Had she
spent four years of her life studying just to be fetching some
rich, spoilt man coffee?

The elevator
doors opened silently and she walked out into a plush lobby with
real wood floors and expensive-looking leather sofas dotted here
and there. There was an enormous desk at the far end of the lobby
and Connie walked up to it, feeling uneasy in her high-street skirt
and Sunday shoes. There was a woman typing at the desk and she
showed no sign of stopping what she was doing as Connie
approached.

“Excuse me?”
Connie tried politely. The woman continued typing but made a noise
that sounded very much like ‘hm?’

“I’m here for
an interview at eleven o’clock,” Connie went on. The woman held out
one hand and continued typing with the other. Connie put the
appointment card into the woman’s palm, which she glanced at
lazily.

“I see. Welcome
to Young Towers,” the woman said, her fingers a blur. “You are a
little early, so please take a seat…” she motioned with her eyes at
the closest sofa. Connie sat on the thick, sweet-smelling leather
and looked out of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The skyline was
breath-taking. Maybe she could stand to be a P.A if she had a view
like this every day.

“Constance
Green?” a voice next to her made her look up at a short man dressed
in a suit and wearing a pair of bookish glasses.

“That’s me,”
she said, standing and holding her hand out. The man shook it and
smiled.

“If you’ll
follow me, the interview is just next door,” he said, leading the
way. Connie smiled a little at the lady typing at the desk and she
was sure she saw the ghost of a smile back.

The
bespectacled man opened a large door and led Connie through it into
a wooden-panelled room complete with a huge table in the centre.
Connie privately thought it looked like a comic book villain’s
lair. She was shown to a seat and the man poured her a glass of
water before introducing himself as Julian – P.A. to the head of
H.R. Connie nodded and listened as he talked about the weather a
little, and then the second door in the room opened and Connie got
to her feet quickly in time to see an overweight woman, and a thin
man with red hair enter the room. They introduced themselves as
May, the Head of H.R., and Karl, the Head of Payroll. Connie
wondered which one of them she was going to be expected to work
for. She did not like the look of either of them, and decided that
the benefits of the position had better be pretty sweet – she could
always take her degree and vast experience elsewhere. When the
niceties were complete, the interview began in earnest.

“So, Miss
Green,” Karl started. “Can you explain why you have decided to come
to interview today?”

“I can,” Connie
replied. “I’m very interested in communications, as it’s my
academic background. When I was invited to apply for the position I
was aware that experience in the communications industry was vital
to becoming a P.A.”

“Have you ever
worked as a P.A. before?” May asked.

“No, but I have
many contacts in industry and am very willing to learn.”

“Would you have
any sort of salary in mind?”

“Your payroll
department lists the standard wage for a P.A. as £25k a year,”
Connie said, proving she had done her homework.

“Excellent,
well done,” Karl grinned. He loved it when people were interested
in his department. “Can you give an example of a time you have had
to co-ordinate many factors at once to the end of a successful
project?”

“Well, I have –
” Connie started to say as the door banged open again and a grey
haze swept from it into a third chair. As she focused on the
intrusion her eyes widened slightly and her lips parted at the
sight of this new interviewer.

“Miss Green,
this is whom you will be working for, should we select you for the
position,” Karl said, indicating the man on his left. “This is my
esteemed colleague and owner of the business, Mr. Antony Young,” he
smiled.

Connie stared.
Anthony Young was giving her a sideways smile that was delightfully
crooked and endearing. His greying black hair was tastefully swept
to the side and was a little longer than convention normally
allowed. He was wearing a light grey suit with a pale, baby pink
tie and had a look on his face that betrayed his relative youth and
amusement. Connie felt something slip inside herself as she rose to
shake hands with this stranger.

“It’s a
pleasure
to meet you,” Antony said smoothly as he shook
hands. Connie smiled at the man and nodded politely. She barely
remembered the rest of the interview until she found herself back
in the elevator heading for the ground floor. Well, if that was the
end of her adventures at Young Towers, she was pleased at least
there would be a story to tell her girlfriends at the weekend.

Chapter
Two

“Seriously, he
was that hot?” Jane poured the last of the bottle into Connie’s
glass.

“Oh my god, you
have to believe me,” Connie said, picking up the glass and downing
half of it easily. “You know when you see guys on TV that kind of
look a bit of alright? Well double it – and you’re almost there. It
was like he had his own private team of airbrushes following him
about.”

“Maybe it was
just the light,” Kate shrugged.

“Then it was
magical light,” Connie insisted. “I’m almost glad I haven’t heard
anything – can you imagine trying to stay focused when your boss
looks like a male model? I’d never get anything done!”

“You never get
anything done anyway,” Kate snorted. She had always been jealous of
Connie’s good grades and positive work ethic. Connie ignored her
and checked her phone.

“I’d better get
back after this,” she held her drink up. “I’ve got to get to the
library tomorrow – I’m meeting someone there about a job.”

“Still
nothing?” Jane asked sympathetically.

“Nothing yet,
aside from selling my stuff on the internet,” Connie rolled her
eyes and pulled her jacket on. “It’s making it easier to clean, at
any rate. There’s like no stuff left!”

“Well just keep
in touch, yeah?” Jane nodded as Connie blew kisses at her friends
and marched out of the bar. She stepped out into the rain and
hurriedly looked up and down for a taxi.

“Shit…” she
muttered as cabs drove past, splashing dirty water up the pavement.
She pulled her collar up and hunched a little as she dodged under
canopies, desperately looking for a cab. She was considering hiding
in a noodle bar when a black cab pulled up beside her and the rear
passenger door opened.

“Hey!” someone
yelled from inside the cab. Connie stopped and squinted through the
rain. Someone was beckoning her over. Well, a ride was a ride, and
she was sure the cab had CCTV if it turned out to be a serial
killer in the back. She minced over the slick pavement and threw
herself into the back of the cab, slamming the door behind her.

“Thanks,” she
gasped, turning to smile wetly at her rescuer. Her mouth dropped
open in horror as she saw who it was – Antony Young – the man she
had just been singing the praises of moments ago in the bar! “Oh m
god, it’s you,” she blurted.

“Hello again,”
he smiled, watching her panic a little, touching her hair and
wiping the running mascara from under her eyes. “You looked as
though you needed a ride.”

“I did, thank
you,” Connie whipped out her compact mirror and gave herself the
once-over. She didn’t look too bad and decided that maybe natural
was better in this case. “Thanks,” she said again.

“Oh, you’re
welcome,” Antony said, smiling. “Where are you headed?”

Connie gave him
her address and Antony relayed it to the driver.

“I never
expected you to be riding home in a cab,” she said.

“I’m
sorry?”

“I thought
you’d have your own private car and driver,” she shrugged.

“Oh, I do,” he
said, looking at his nails, shyly. “But I’ve been to visit a friend
and didn’t feel like calling Julian to come and get me. It’s
late.”

“That’s…
considerate,” Connie said, not knowing what to say.

“So, how did
you like Young Towers?” Antony said, turning to look at the
dripping wet woman next to him. Connie smoothed her skirt a little
and blushed.

“It’s very
impressive,” she said, “I love the views.”

“They are
wonderful,” Antony said, looking straight at her. “When my father
had the place built, there weren’t as many towers around it, but I
feel they add to the landscape, rather than take away from it.”

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