Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25739 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25739 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Once I get off the train, I head down the street toward my apartment and climb the stairs ready to just chill on my sofa and veg out with a good book or maybe a TV show. My butt barely hits the sofa and my feet onto the coffee table when my phone rings. I answer for my best friend even though I know she has a million and one questions about today. “Absolute shit show,” I answered.
“The ride home?” his deep voice asks.
“Mr. King,” I gasp, pussy throbbing while my heart races.
“Tomorrow, I’ll be in court, and unfortunately we didn’t get a chance to go over your schedule and duties. I don’t want you handling Ms. Dalton’s work. You’ve been hired for other matters that also needed your attention. Before I leave, I’ll put a list on your desk for you to work on. I know that you were only under the guidance of the staff at the office, but I’m telling you, as your boss, to do as you are told by me—only. Do you understand me, Ms. Pernetti?” I slam my thighs closed so hard that I create a slapping sound, praying these phones are as noise canceling as they claim because I swear my pussy is making noises that he shouldn’t hear.
“Yes, Mr. King.” I swear I practically purr his name like a bitch in heat.
Did he just grunt?
“Good. Now get some sleep,” he commanded in a deep voice that only sounds more intense over the phone.
“Yes, sir.” I end the call and sigh, setting the phone on the sofa while my heart nearly jumps out of my chest. I start to press the heel of my palm on my mound, aching to relieve the throbbing between my legs. Whimpering, I know that I need more, like Mr. King with his face right between my thighs, eating me while giving me commands to come just for him. My entire body throbs with arousal and I need relief.
My phone rings again, startling me off the couch. I fall on my ass, laughing as I try to get my act together. I miss Petra’s call, so I call her back.
“Tell me all about it.” There’s no hesitation.
“It was fun….” My voice trails off.
“Uh oh. What happened?” I explained the whole day to her, leaving out the call right now because I can’t explain the rush of possessiveness I have. It’s my private call, even if it was just business.
“Remember, Jack could hire you any time you want. It’s not like you wouldn’t fit in perfectly here and he pays really well.” That’s an excellent offer and if I get canned, I’ll totally go there for work, but until then I want to see Wyatt King as much as I can.
“Thanks, but I’ll stick this one out.”
“Just let me know if you need anything.” What would I do without her? She’s always been my friend even after she married that obsessed husband of hers who took up the majority of her time.
“I will. Love you, girlie.”
“Love you, back.”
After the call, I sit with little Harry perched on my lap, who is looking at me as if I forgot something, so I reach out and pet him. Suddenly, his prissiness stops. “You’re just like my new boss. Give him what he wants, and his attitude disappears. I wonder if he likes to be stroked.” Immediately I’m worked up again.
Mr. King is going to drive me insane, and his next call does just that.
Chapter Four
Wyatt
The second the phone went silent, I slid my hand over the bulge in my slacks, rubbing the fullness that had been begging for attention since I crossed paths with Ms. Valentine Pernetti today.
My eyes shut, trying to absorb the sound of her voice over the phone and commit it to memory because that’s the only satisfaction I’ll allow myself. No way will I violate any ethics and toss my career away to bend my new assistant over my desk and drill her to the surface while she gives me attitude. Hell, she could be submissive as fuck and I’d still want to slide into her warmth.
The moment I stepped off the elevator this afternoon, I felt a shift in me. It was as if Valentine’s scent had permeated my brain and registered in my veins before I met her. When I opened the door, she was bent over the table, looking like a honey pot meant to destroy strong-willed men, and I fought all my natural instincts to claim what should instantly be mine.
How in the almost year that she’d been at my firm had I not met her? Yes, I’d spent a great deal of time in court and with clients, so a chance encounter was unlikely, but still, I missed out on seeing her beautiful face.