Page 4 of Billionaire's Black Assistant

He had been with far too many women to try to complicate his simple routine now, one which involved charming them, bedding them, and then cutting ties – usually for good. And, never did he spend whole hours just thinking about them, the way he kept doing with Sheri.

Had he somehow suffered a bang on the head and couldn’t remember? He was suddenly getting all these crazy ideas. Such as wondering if that was really her boyfriend, the man she’d been on a date with. Why had it previously been so absurd to picture her as the type who had an interest in men or dating?

The next moment, Dean was scoffing. Sure she may have been on a date, but she should have picked one with a real man, not a boy who seemed to look far too pretty to be taken seriously, not with those ridiculous blond curls.

To cool off his inexplicable frustration, he took a reviving cold shower while not trying to imagine peeling Sheri out of that dress she’d had on that night. He’d almost had the inclination to grab her up and steal her away back to his place and then…

Dean was swearing in vexation all the time he got dressed in his gray Tom Ford suit and tie. Sheri would definitely be at work already. She came far earlier than anyone. He wondered if she’d wear her slacks today, one of those pairs that lovingly clung to her tempting heart-shaped ass. Fuck. Those slacks were just tight enough to show off those perfect curves of her lower body, and only now did Dean begin to realize how he’d started to notice much too much how hot she was as a full-figured black woman.

Why the hell did she go and have a boyfriend?

Those regretful thoughts were instantly quashed before they could take shape. Much as he’d always taken for granted that he had her undivided attention and devotion, there was no cause for him getting his tie knot in a twist just because she had a man. If anything, Dean should feel happy that she had such a balanced lifestyle, one where she could work hard and still make time for romance.

Damn that word: romance, came the barking voice in Dean’s head. And, damn the fact he should be bothered getting to see Sheri smiling or acting intimate with some other guy.

This much was irrefutable: Sheri was a great executive assistant, the kind who would sacrifice for her job and constantly did. Her background showed she’d never been fired from any position she held and not yet six months at this job, she’d already been headhunted twice.

It was to his credit – and hers – that Sheri had never been tempted away. Dean had definitely done his best to be the perfect superior, allowing her much professional freedom built upon a sense of mutual reliance and affinity. His past assistants hadn’t lasted over two or three months, mostly proving incompetent over time or making the mistake of thinking they could capture him with their feminine wiles.

With Sheri, so far it had been an efficient, well-regulated relationship that worked well for both of them. But he could no longer fool himself that it could keep on that way.

Dean was well aware of her reputation as an ice queen at the company. But with his well-honed intuition when it came to women, he knew for a fact that she was anything but made of ice. Deep down, a part of him had secretly wished to be the one to set off her heat.

Where before, he’d never have even considered acting on such instinct, he was no longer how sure he was about his rigid self-discipline. Something had to give – and soon.

Only thing left to worry about was the risk of losing a damn good assistant just because he couldn’t seem to hold himself in check. So, what was his next move going to be?

Chapter 2

Sheri rode the elevator up to the fifteenth floor and the office she’d occupied in the last five or so months as executive assistant to Dean Cooper, CEO. She held in her hand a newly purchased white, button-down business shirt. Dean had specifically asked for a plain one, but the closest she could find in his size had these tiny white satiny pinstripes running through the designer fabric.

Her usual perfectionist self worried over the fact that Dean might be irritated that she’d been unable to follow his instructions to the letter. He just might actually react with nothing less than genuine appreciation for her effort, considering he was the most easy-going boss ever – to her, at least.

But suddenly, her wayward thoughts drifted and she moistened her lips as her imagination took a naughty bent. She imagined entering Dean’s plush corner office suite and her typically calm and business-like boss showing displeasure at her choice of shirt in the most unexpected way. He would take her over his knee and punish her with a sound spanking to her bared derriere. He would slap her curvaceous ass cheeks with his big, yet finely shaped hands, while she moaned helplessly and squirmed atop his firm, muscled thighs.

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