Please (Please #1)

by Willow Summers

  “I hope you didn’t have to get physical with him, Mr. Ramous.” Pat winked at me. “Your opponent would be a pancake.”

  “No, but I did have to get out of the car when he started yelling.” Bert walked over and grabbed a bottle of water. “He didn’t stick around long. I got to pull in.”

  “I bet he didn’t,” I muttered with a smile.

  “Okay, Bert, if you will, please unveil the jewelry.” Pat pushed away from the counter in the kitchen and showed Bert the box she’d moved.

  Bert bent over the couch to retrieve it, entered a code, and pulled open the container. He handed it to Pat.

  “Mr. Carlisle doesn’t even need a strongbox—just put the merchandise on Bert’s person somewhere, and he’d be all set.” Pat’s eyes twinkled as she smiled at Bert.

  “Ah, now,” Bert said with a red face. He grabbed a chair from the table and set it near the door. It was removed from the battle zone of hair and makeup, but still a part of the crew, given the tiny size of the apartment.

  “O-kay!” Pat’s eyes lit up as she pulled out the bracelet. “This is nice. Classy, yet simple.”

  She opened the next velvet bag and delicately pulled out the contents. “Oh my God!” She gently held the necklace in her hands. “He wants you done up to the nines. Lucky girl.”

  “Wow, Livy,” Bert said, standing and stepping closer to get a better look. He glanced at the dress, and then back again. “Saying no really does the trick. I’ve never seen him go that big for an admin before.”

  “He can probably see that this admin isn’t after his material possessions,” Pat said, draping the necklace over my chest. Her eyes darted between the necklace and my face.

  “I didn’t know he was going to buy it. I tried to stop him,” I exclaimed. I picked at my nail, suddenly extremely uncomfortable.

  Pat froze.

  “He bought those?” Bert asked with incredulity.

  “Don’t pick your nail—you’ll make my job harder.” Pat unfroze as the moment passed. She put the jewelry away carefully. “And don’t be so alarmed, Bert. Obviously he sees something in this girl that he hasn’t seen in the others. Hell, I see something in this girl that I never saw in the others, and I’ve known her for five minutes.” She gave me a wink. “Don’t feel uncomfortable—Mr. Carlisle has money growing out of his ears. This seems like a big purchase to you, but the man owns more than one island. Islands, Olivia. That people live on, and pay him rent. A few pieces of jewelry won’t even make a dent in his interests.”

  “True.” Bert took the jewelry and returned it to the box for safekeeping. “But I wouldn’t go telling a bunch of people that, Livy. You’re bound to create enemies.”

  “Not to mention getting your jewelry stolen. Okay…” Pat gestured toward the chair. “Let’s do hair first. I think half up, so the necklace and earrings are visible, but curly strands falling down like dewdrops. That’ll look beautiful.”

  Pat got to work, her hands moving quickly and efficiently as she went about her task. Bert made up plates of nibbles and passed them out, trying half of each plate in the process. He didn’t partake in champagne, as he was driving, but the man could certainly eat.

  After hair, we went straight to makeup. “Natural is definitely the way to go. We don’t want to overpower the dress or compete with the necklace—Mr. Carlisle could’ve made great strides in the fashion industry.” Pat got to work with the same smooth efficiency she’d employed with my hair.

  “Oh wow.” Bert moved beside Pat when she had finished, staring down at me. He smiled. “Yep, you look really pretty, Livy. Really, really pretty.”

  “All I did was enhance things.” Pat started putting her items away, leaving a couple of things on the couch that she’d used—probably for later touchups. “When she hits thirty, and the rest of that baby fat melts away, she will be a knockout! She won’t need any makeup.”

  “She doesn’t need any now,” Bert said with a furrowed brow.

  “Yes, she does, Mr. Ramous,” Pat countered with a flat voice. “She is twenty. She looks twenty. No one takes twenty-year-olds seriously. Give her some edge to those cheekbones, and a pronounced shelf to hang those eyebrows, and she is a twenty-year-old with distinction. Society is a fickle bitch— it wants youth in women, but it doesn’t want to listen to that youth; it just wants to stare.”

  Bert gave me a put-upon expression as he shook his head. He had no idea what she was talking about. He was among company.

  “I’m twenty-two, by the way,” I said, trying to hide a smile.

  “Same thing.” Pat shooed me toward my room. “Go get into your dress. We are ten minutes behind schedule.”

  “I can see why Hunter likes to work with you. You’re an extension of his pushiness.”

  As I entered my room, my gaze snagged on the contract lying on my bed. I’d gone over it the night before, page by page and line by line. Most was the same, and most didn’t really matter. I was to be his plus one to events, acknowledging that he would provide anything needed to make the role a success—like clothes, accessories, etc. I was to make myself available on nights and weekends if the job demanded it, and other things I was already doing. I hadn’t realized this was part of the personal contract—I’d thought it was the requirements of the job, and covered in the contract of employment.

  The only issues that remained, the ones I had any problems with, were the sexual ones. He got to call all the shots. I had to answer to his beck and call. I couldn’t instigate, and had a limit on saying no. My job was on the line for each infraction, not to mention the normal things that could get me fired, like being late, or not doing my work.

  There was more, though. I worried that with a contract, Hunter would shut off. He’d get to keep his head in business while he robotically satisfied his physical needs. I couldn’t deal with that. Right now he lost control enough to show a softer core when he touched me. He showed his passion. If he had yet another coat of armor protecting him, as this contract would provide, I feared the softer, caring man would disappear. And that would make my role unbearable. I couldn’t stand to let that man go.

  I adjusted myself within my dress, tucked away my uncertainty over my future in this position, and walked out into the living room. Pat looked up and squinted immediately. “Let’s put the jewelry on, because right now, your makeup is too subtle.” A smile creased Bert’s face and softened his eyes. “Livy, you will knock them dead. They won’t know what hit them.”

  “Yes. Perfect.” Pat smiled and adjusted a few strands of hair, blasting me with hairspray, then checked her watch. “A little behind, but we’re okay. Let’s have another glass of champagne to loosen Livy up, and then we’ll check in with Mr. Carlisle.”

  “I’m not nervous.” I adjusted my breasts again, drawing Pat’s eyes.

  She sucked her lip before saying, “You have a bra on.”

  Bert’s face reddened. He turned away in a jerk, probably to keep himself from looking, and moved toward the table.

  “A strapless one, since the dress is strapless.”

  Pat shook her head. “Take it off. Sweetie, you’re twenty. Your breasts are perky and round. They won’t be that way forever. You need to let them free while you can. Trust me.”

  “But…” I cupped the bottoms of my breasts.

  “No. C’mon.” Pat led me to my bedroom and closed the door. Without consulting me further, she turned me around, unzipped the dress, then unhooked the bra. “You’ll thank me for this.”

  “But…”

  She zipped me back up and turned me around. “Much better. More natural. Now your cleavage doesn’t look store-bought. You are a masterpiece.” She kissed her fingers like an Italian might while admiring a plate of delicious pasta.

  “I feel really exposed,” I said as I looked at myself in the mirror. “More comfortable, for sure, but… People are going to notice.”

  “Oh, people will notice you. That is a given. Bert’s right—you’re going to blow them away. People
pay good money to look like you, and I don’t mean on hair and makeup.”

  She slapped my hands away from my chest. “Leave it. C’mon.”

  I moaned as she led me to the living room.

  Bert handed me a glass of champagne as Pat said, “Drink one now, one in the limo, and one on the plane. You’ll need it. I get the feeling you don’t know what you’re walking into.”

  “What am I walking into?” I asked in confusion.

  “He’s here!” Panic laced Bert’s voice. He dropped his phone into a pocket and came toward me. “Down that, Livy—no, drink it. You’ll need it.”

  “He’s early,” Pat scoffed.

  “Probably thought she might try to run.” Bert smiled as he waited for me to gulp my drink down before ushering me toward the door.

  “Shoes!” I said.

  “Where’s her wrap?” Pat asked, zooming around the room, picking things up.

  “And the mess!” I glanced back at all the food and wrappers on the table.

  A black silk wrap was thrown over my shoulders as Bert bent to my feet with my heels. I put my hand on his huge, meaty shoulder to balance as I lifted my foot.

  “I’ll just tidy up really quick,” Bert said as he slipped on the second shoe.

  “You’re not coming?” I asked in sudden panic. He’d become my cheerleader, of sorts. He was the guy that thought the same way I did about Hunter and the job—my silent partner in crime.

  “Pat and I’ll be in a separate car. I’ll speed—it’ll be fine.” Bert straightened up, gave me a once-over to make sure I looked okay, and nodded. “I’ll walk you down.”

  The buzzer rang. Bert put his hand out to keep me put as he pushed the button and said, “Yes?”

  “You have an entourage now,” Pat said with a bounce in her step as she finished packing all her stuff. “And because you’ll enjoy it, I’m going to enjoy it. I love to witness someone’s first time.”

  “It’s me,” came Hunter’s voice through the speaker.

  A wash of excitement passed through my body as I heard his voice. And then a pang of regret, knowing that if I didn’t sign that contract, I would miss hearing that deep timbre. I’d miss seeing those smoldering eyes in that handsome face. I would no longer get to run my hands along that magnificent body, or be wrapped in his warm embrace.

  “We were just bringing her down,” Bert said before pushing the other button to open the building door.

  “I’m coming up,” we heard.

  “Wants to check up on me, huh?” Pat said, and sipped her drink. She didn’t look worried in the least.

  My heart stopped when the door opened, giving me a glance at the man behind it. Hunter wore a tux perfectly molded to his outstanding body. His wide shoulders and strong arms reduced down into a trim waist. Gold cufflinks adorned his sleeves and black shoes shone beneath his tailored pants. He’d shaved and his hair was done in a messy style so popular among celebrities. Those eyes, always hooded, as if he were in the throes of ecstasy, looked me over.

  His gaze met mine. He walked forward slowly, fire burning in his eyes. “You are stunning.”

  I smiled from my toes, falling into that entrancing stare. I stepped forward to meet him, standing close enough to feel his heat. “Thank you,” I said in a breathy voice as I looked up into his handsome face.

  “You’re fifteen minutes early.” Pat interrupted our moment in a blasé voice. “We had to make her gulp her champagne.”

  As if emerging from a fog, Hunter blinked, his eyebrows lowering slowly. He took a step away from me as his gaze turned to Pat. “I wanted to make sure she had everything. This is her first event.”

  “I think we’re ready, sir,” Bert said as he gathered up the items he’d brought and replaced the mess on the table.

  “I trust you have extra hair products?” Hunter asked, circling me to look at the dress. I caught his gaze shoot past me into my bedroom, and then snag on the contract strewn over the bed. To anyone else it was just some paper haphazardly thrown around, but when his brow furrowed and his jaw tightened, it was clear he knew exactly what it was, and he knew I was doing my homework.

  When he was standing in front of me again, his look was assessing.

  “I have everything she needs, and another two girls to assist should the worst happen, including a bursting dress, though I don’t think we’ll have a problem. She could’ve gone a size smaller.”

  “She’s perfect.” Hunter moved toward the door. “Shall we?”

  I walked out the door, Bert and Pat following me. At the stairs, Hunter said, “Wait.”

  I stopped as he moved around me, passing within inches of my body. His smell wafted up and tickled my nose, so divine I had to close my eyes and savor it just to make sure I remembered it perfectly. When I opened my eyes again, he was looking at me with his hand held out. “You aren’t steady in heels. If you fall, I want to catch you.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Pat look over at Bert with wide eyes. I didn’t have time to analyze it, though. When I took Hunter’s hand, electricity surged through my body, making me gasp.

  Trembling, trying to keep it together, I let him help me down the stairs. At the bottom, the progression filed out of the building. Hunter, still holding my hand, led me to a black stretch limo waiting in the street.

  He handed me in, waiting until I was settled before moving around the car and getting in the other side. Once seated, he raised the divider between the driver and us.

  “Sure we have enough space?” I asked nervously as Hunter poured a glass of champagne and handed it to me. He poured himself two fingers of a dark liquid from a crystal decanter.

  “Space, privacy, and comfort, yes.” Hunter turned to me, his eyes closing the two feet of distance between our bodies. “You are so beautiful, Olivia. I almost want to call this off. I don’t want to share you.”

  I sipped my champagne to hide my delighted smile, but it didn’t help the surge of butterflies in my stomach. He could be so sweet when he let himself. He said all the right things, and in such a deep, heartfelt way that I knew he was genuine. It was a shame he felt the need to keep up his defenses all the time. Everyone else missed out on the exceptional man beneath the armor.

  “Did you have any questions about the contract?” he asked in a low voice that dripped with intimacy.

  “Can I negotiate things like saying no?” I asked seriously, trying to keep my wits about me as his fingers trailed up my arm.

  “Would you say no?” he whispered, placing his palm on my shoulder and trailing a thumb up my neck.

  I broke out in goosebumps. “I want the option.”

  “As I said, I need that role to fulfill certain needs. If there comes a point where you no longer want physical intimacy, I need just cause to discuss it with you. The contract provides that.”

  “You don’t need a contract to discuss that with me, Hunter, and you know that.”

  He leaned forward, pulling me to him. His lips glanced across my shoulder and up the base of my neck. “I want you now.”

  “And now I would have to say no,” I whispered with my eyes closed, feeling his other hand crawl up the inside of my thigh. I widened my legs so he could gain more access. “Because you will mess up hours of preparation.”

  “That ‘no’ wouldn’t count toward the five.”

  “But that’s the thing.” I moaned as his fingers dipped into my panties and slid across my sudden wetness. “You’re making the rules.”

  “I’m not as rigid as you think.” His fingers started up a fast pace, boiling my blood as pleasure pulsed in waves. “I want you as mine, Olivia. I want your signature as a promise of that.”

  “What about me initiating? I have needs, too, and I don’t have time to go out and try to find a guy. I’m always at work.”

  “I don’t want you finding someone else,” he growled, his fingers working faster. I moaned, clutching his shoulder.

  “I have needs,” I whispered.

  “I’ll
meet your needs. I can amend that in the contract, as long as we set strict rules regarding when.”

  “I’m not worried about you saying no—you don’t seem to have any problem with that.” My breathing sped up.

  “I am.”

  The limo pulled to a stop. Hunter swore under his breath. “Are you close?”

  His thumb rubbed the top of my slit as his fingers worked inside, trying to get me to climax before we had to get out. Pleasure was rising. The heat was taking over. But no, I wasn’t close. Not with all the distraction of knowing that someone was about to open the door.

  “No,” I panted, pushing his hand away. Barely a second after Hunter pulled away, the door opened, allowing a gust of chilled air to flash-freeze the sweat on my face. Hunter rolled out the other side, issuing a command that had the driver backing away from the car.

  I checked myself over, adjusted the necklace, and let the fervor recede, before climbing out of the car. My sex pounded, on the rise pleasure-wise, and now I wondered what had gone wrong that I couldn’t finish. I took a deep breath outside the limo, willing the tightness in my body to relax.

  “I apologize about that,” Hunter said into my ear as I glanced at our surroundings. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  I gasped as I looked up at a plane that didn’t say Primmer & Locke as I’d expected. It only had one name scrawled along the side. Carlisle.

  “You have your own jet?” I asked incredulously as Hunter ushered me toward the door.

  “Doesn’t everyone?” Pat asked from behind us. I hadn’t even noticed her walking up. Bert’s vehicle was parked beside the limo. He was helping out two girls from the back.

  “I don’t like using the company transportation. It’s usually less than adequate, and the approval system is arduous.”

  The inside of the jet was white leather adorned with stylistic ornaments. On each headrest lay a red strip of fabric with an emblem embroidered into it.

  “What is this?” I asked, running my fingers on the gold crest.

  “It’s my family crest.”

  “Is this your family jet?” I sank into a plush leather seat in the middle of the jet.

  Hunter sat in the chair across from me with a small table between us.