Page 4 of Older Hotter Grumpier
That was when I got into the habit of watching my assistant. There’s a CCTV camera hidden in her foyer office, which I think is fine. The one in her building, where I can keep an eye on her comings and goings, I feel a bit more ambiguous about. I definitely shouldn’t have a tracker on her phone, but how else can I be sure she is home safely?
“Close the door, Miss Button.”
I don’t call her Ella—such a sweet name—because I dare not risk the barrier of professionalism between us. Though having watched her drag her skirt up might have blown that out of the water. Even more than me moaning her name and picturing her face being splattered with my come as I jerk myself off in the shower every morning.
She hesitates before closing the door with a click. The silence here is normally a haven, but right now it’s stifling.
And it’s not helping that I have no fucking idea what I’m going to say. The things flying around my mind are wildly inappropriate, even given the terms that we’re working on since I caught her flicking the bean.
Get to your knees and open your mouth.
Bend over and prepare to be spanked like the naughty girl you are.
Come here, pull up your skirt, and sit on my cock.
Next time you want to come, you askme.
My little assistant though? She has it covered. Taking quick strides across the room, she stops before my desk. Back straight, she clasps her hands together before her.
“Please don’t sack me.” She’s trembling. “My mother already thinks I’m a waste of space.”
Her motherwhat? “Want me to kill her?”
“No!” If it’s possible, she’s even more flustered. “She’s my mother!”
I shrug. Anyone who upsets my girl should die. End of.
“Just please, please let me keep my job,” she begs.
She’s really serious. She thinks I’m going to fire her. I guess I’m so much older it hasn’t occurred to her that after seeing her touch herself I’m far more inclined to lay her on my desk and fuck her until she cries. For mercy or because she’s coming for the fourth time, I can’t decide. Both?
There’s nothing she could do to make me let her go. She could murder the entire marketing department and I’d shake my head and tell HR to get on the job of replacing them. Quickly, in case she decided to unalive them too.
“Please.”
Poor sad girl.
I didn’t have a particular game in mind when I called her into my office. But it occurs to me now I can use this situation to my advantage. Sure, it’s immoral, but who said I had morals? I stopped being ethical at the same time as I stopped eating my food pureed on a spoon.
“What would you do to keep your job, Miss Button?”
“Anything.” Her voice is steady on that word, and she meets my eyes.
Brave little sunshine dragon. She has no idea what she’s saying.
“Be my date for an event this evening.”
Her jaw drops open. “A fake date.”
After wanting her for eighteen months, no. Arealdate. “Yes.”
Because however much I long to have this woman on my dick, there are some major issues we can’t overcome. In particular: she’s way too young for me, she’s my assistant, she’s sweet and innocent where I am sour and jaded.
But one night of having her by my side at this godforsaken charity event I wish I’d never started? Abso-fucking-lutely. It never used to bother me that there were so many proud parents at this thing. Then when I met Ella, seeing happy couples and cute kids became torture. How is it fair that all those men have loving wives and have bred talented children, and I only have a billion in the bank and two annoying brothers who won’t allow me to forget where we came from: the gutter.
So yeah, even if it’s a con, I’ll take it.
She licks her lips as she thinks about this proposal. It’s a good one, surely? Hardly inappropriate at all. In a relative sense. Compared to say, fucking my assistant over my desk.
