Billionaire Bound (Page 3)
"Well, a big company being a big company," I said, settling on the safest response.
"An answer that isn’t an answer," he said. "What do you think of me?"
Oh no, this was getting crazy. What would I say now? I heard in my three short days in records that he fired people for nearly no reason? That a good half the girls in the building would slip off their skirts if he just asked them to? (And just quietly, a few of the guys too.)
"You’re a businessman. Young and in control of a growing corporation. Along with your partner, of course."
"Of course," he said, a brief flash of disgust crossing his face before vanishing. Was that for my stock answer or for how he felt about his partner? On the subject of Matt Black, the interwebs were a little foggy. Apparently they’d formed their business in college but precisely what Mr. Black did was a bit of a mystery. There was a smattering of charity ball photographs but it seemed he liked to keep a lower profile than even Mr. Stone. They were certainly never photographed together.
"But what do they say?" he asked, focusing his gaze on me. "Don’t lie to me."
I felt butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Was this a test? Was the right answer to lie under pressure or to just tell the truth? I decided to go with the truth.
"That you’re a bastard. A beautiful one, sure, but still a bastard. Perpetually unsatisfied with a crazy temper."
I tried to hold his gaze as I said it but towards the end I just couldn’t. I felt like he’d erupt and leap out of the chair at any moment.
We sat there in silence for a moment and then I glanced up at his impassive face. He caught my eye and briefly smiled at me. My god he was handsome. Like he’d just stepped off a modeling shoot. But then his smile vanished and I suddenly felt I was standing at the bottom of a wall of ice a mile high.
He stood up and moved around the desk, looking at me all the while. The butterflies in my stomach went crazy and all I could imagine was him whispering in my ear that he knew all about me. That he’d always known. Then the police would burst in and drag me away to some gulag.
Mr. Stone walked around behind the chair and placed his hands on top of it. His closeness was unnerving. I felt him lean down behind me.
"Everything they say is true," he said. His lips were so close to my ear. His scent again, masculine and clean, enveloping me. I closed my eyes and listened.
"I am deeply unsatisfied and I need you, Delilah. I want you to be my assistant."
My neck was tingling and sending signals down my body. I felt my nipples harden and rub against my blouse. I heard what he said but it seemed certain body parts only heard I need you, I want you…
"I want … I mean, I will be your assistant," I said, catching myself in time before saying I want you too.
And then he was gone. I opened my eyes to find him back around his side of the desk again, looking at me.
"Make those corrections and send the notes to me. I’ll be gone the rest of the afternoon. Don’t forget your bag," he said.
I stood up and nodded, clutching the notepad like it was the only thing holding me to the ground and walked away, feeling his gaze on me. I saw him reflected in the cabinets and I think … I think he was looking at my ass! I picked up my bag from where I’d left it on the side table and headed for the door. I needed to get out of here. Before he changed his mind or I broke out into another hot flush with my imagination and body going wild. I put my hand on the door to leave, feeling the cool wood under my palm.
I turned around to see him in profile, looking at something on the computer screen.
"I do have a temper and if you disobey me, you will get to see it. One more thing: you are never allowed in this room unless I am here."
I nodded and then got out of the room as fast as I could.
Where was it!
I rummaged through my bag again and then took another look around the empty ladies room before emptying the contents out on the bench next to the basins.
My red bullet vibrator was gone. Or temporarily misplaced. Or stolen.
I’d come down here to cool off after my meeting with Mr. Stone and found my mind straying to some very hot ideas. Mr. Stone standing catching me in his office and shaking his head at me as he unzipped his pants… Mr. Stone pulling me across to him for a passionate kiss…
Cos no red bullet vibrator was anywhere to be found.
I sorted through the contents of my bag again, desperately hoping I’d find it hidden under a screwed up five bucks or maybe hanging out next to an empty chewing gum pack. I scooped everything back into my bag and then stopped, a cold rush flooding through me as I got a sudden image of the vibrator sitting on the rug under Mr. Stone’s desk.
I did fall over and land on the ground. Nothing fell out of my bag but maybe I was too preoccupied with saving the papers or smearing my lipstick on his shirt.
Ok, so I didn’t have it with me and that meant unless it was hiding near my desk somehow then it was probably on the floor of Mr. Stone’s office.
I looked at myself in the mirror for the second time today, again trying to calm myself down. He’d just told me to never go into his office without him there but there was no way I’d let him find that bullet vibrator in there. He’d seen it that morning and knew it was mine. I didn’t care what the consequences were. Besides, he was out of the office for the rest of the day.
"You can do this," I told my reflection.
My reflection looked back at me with raised eyebrows.
I wasn’t so dumb as to just go back up there and push the doors open with some stupid excuse on my lips. I went down to the car-park first and saw that his black BMW was gone. So Mr. Stone was out of his office.
Nevertheless, outside his office I stopped and tried to make up an excuse. I … dropped … my … contact lens?
I shook my head at myself and went in.
I ignored the view and the beautiful things all around me. Even the side room which I was curious about. All I was looking for was the red bullet vibrator. I checked under a few cabinets but didn’t see it. I walked up to the front his desk and imagined myself falling over, holding the papers, my face heading for his chest, my bag swinging …
I walked around the other side of his desk and knelt down to check under it. The space under the desk was big enough for three people to fit. I crawled in, looking for the bullet. Again, no luck. I did find something else though: set into the back wall of the desk was a long golden bar. It looked like a crazy expensive bathroom fitting. I ran my finger over it and then pulled on it. It wasn’t connected to any secret drawer or anything. It was just connected quiet solidly to the mahogany. I tapped the bar again and then heard a noise. But it was no secret compartment opening. It was the doors opening.