by Tia Siren
“I don't know, but she rings up a lot. I think she's one of his conquests,” she whispered.
The next four weeks flew past, and Alina suddenly found herself alone, the PA to a very important man. She was still living at Ryan's house. Every weekend he'd thrown a party on both Friday and Saturday evenings. Some she attended, some she didn't. But she always left around the time it got rowdy or overly sexual.
One Sunday morning, Ryan took her in the Rolls Royce to a luxury apartment building he owned in downtown LA. He took her to the top floor and showed her two of the most expensive apartments in the city. Both were open plans with floor-to-ceiling windows, and great views over the city. “You can have either,” he told her. “Free, on me.” He almost pleaded with her to take one.
“What's you're motive?” she asked.
“I'm a nice guy, and I want to give you a good start in life.”
“I don't believe you.” Then she leaned toward him and whispered in his ear. “It's because you want to get into my panties, isn't it?”
“Er...” That was the reason, but he had to deny it. “No. Of course not.” He wasn't used to being refused. Why would someone refuse such a generous offer? He simply didn't understand.
“I still don't believe you,” she said.
*****
“Ryan, I'm moving out. I've got an apartment of my own,” Alina said one morning.
“Never mind that now. Go home and pack some clothes. We're going on a trip.”
“Where to?”
“Paris.”
“France?” He looked at her, and she knew she'd been dumb. “What shall I pack?”
“Toothbrush.”
“Ryan. What are we going to do there? If I know, I will be able to pack accordingly.”
“We're going to do a deal on an apartment building. We'll be gone three nights, so take business clothes and clothes you can relax in. Oh, and take an evening dress.”
“But I haven't got one.”
“Jesus, Alina. Do I have to mother you?”
“No, you don't.” She stormed out of the office. It was the first time he'd really snapped at her. Perhaps he was under pressure; maybe a deal was going wrong somewhere. Or maybe he was just tiring of her. Maybe she ought to accept his offer of an apartment.
Actually, she was driving Ryan nuts. She wouldn't accept his offers or stay long at his parties, and he wanted her so badly. He'd given it a lot of thought. He'd even considered knocking on her bedroom door and helping himself, but she was very young, and he didn't want to overly upset her. He'd always gotten women by giving them things, expensive things that they had to feel guilty about taking. And the result had always been the same, until now. He'd decided to see if he could crack her resistance in Paris. After all, if she didn't feel a bit sexy in the French capital, she must be frigid, he concluded.
“It's a BBJ,” Ryan shouted as they walked from the Rolls Royce to his private jet.
“What's a BBJ?” Alina shouted back.
“Boeing Business Jet.”
“Is it yours?”
“Of course it is.”
Alina was apprehensive. She'd had so little time to find a nice dress, she was sure she'd look like a sack of potatoes in Paris. She didn't like flying much, and the thought of flying so far made her nervous.
Inside, it wasn't at all like a commercial jet. It was like a small apartment. There was a bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a wonderful sitting area with large leather seats.
“Who flies this thing?” she asked once they were strapped into seats.
“Father Christmas. Heavens, Alina.”
“I'm just really nervous. That's all. Sorry.”
Ryan looked at her and took a more sympathetic approach. “When we get up above the clouds, we'll have a glass of champagne. That ought to settle your nerves.”
Alina didn't have time to answer. The plane sped down the runway, thrusting her back into her seat. She closed her eyes and said good-bye to her parents and wished she'd stayed in New York.
“Here, drink this,” Ryan said shortly after the captain had turned off the seat belt signs.
Alina took the drink and gulped it down, then held out the glass for more. Ryan laughed and obliged. After two full glasses, she was much calmer, even enjoying the flight.
“You know you're a great PA,” he said. “Really good.”
“Thanks. You're a great boss.” She smiled at him. He decided to take a chance. He leaned forward and tried to kiss her. She turned her head away. “No, Ryan. I like you, I really like you, but I don't want to mix work and pleasure.”
Maybe she would change her mind after some more champagne, he thought. He offered her another glass, but she refused, aware of what he was doing. They spent the rest of the flight in silence. She fell into a deep sleep, and Ryan sat and looked at what he so badly wanted but was unable to have.
*****
The Four Seasons George V Hotel in Paris was so luxury laden that only the world’s richest people could afford to stay there. But that was where Alina found herself, courtesy of her job with Ryan. It was ridiculous—her bedroom had a chandelier. The bathroom was an echoing chamber of marble and gold, and she spent an age pampering herself there.
They'd arrived in the middle of the morning. From the luxury limousine that had picked them up from the airport, Alina had seen architecture quite different than what she was used to. The center of Paris had taken her breath away. The hustle and bustle, Notre Dame and the Arc de Triomphe and all the baroque buildings. She had instantly fallen in love with the place.
Ryan and Alina had agreed to get some sleep and meet up for dinner at seven. The business part of the trip was to begin the following day. At six, Alina was already in her evening gown. She stood and looked at herself. She held her stomach in and then let it out. She cursed when she saw—what she perceived to be—a huge belly appear again. There was nothing she could do about it, though, so she left for dinner.
“My God, you look stunning,” Ryan said when she met him.
“So do you,” she said. He was wearing black tie evening wear.
They sat down to dinner, and Alina felt Ryan's eyes on her throughout the evening. Her hair was pinned back over her ears, and she wore droplet earrings that looked like real diamonds. Around her neck was a perfectly good copy of a diamond necklace.
After dinner, Ryan stood up and gave her his arm. They walked to the elevator together and went to the top floor. At her bedroom door, they stopped and looked at each other.
“I want you, Alina. I want to come into your room with you.”
“No, Ryan. It's not right. I work for you.”
“Yes, you do, don't you? In that case, here's the deal: I'm changing your job description.”
“How?”
“I'm giving you some extra duties. Compulsory duties.”
“Are you talking about the kind of duties I think you are?”
“Yes. Now let me into your room, with you.”
“But, Ryan...it's—”
He took the key from her hand, opened the door, and pulled her inside. He kicked the door shut with his foot and threw his arms around her. He smelled lovely, and Alina was torn. She had tried to be professional, she really had. But there was a limit to the level of resistance a woman could maintain. It felt so good to be in his arms, and his scent made her legs weak. She put her head against his chest and let him stroke her hair, all the way down her back. When his hand reached down to cup a buttock, she thrust her head up, her eyes begging him to kiss her. When he did, it was wonderful. It was highly unprofessional, and she had no idea where it would lead, but it felt so good, she couldn't stop.
They kissed passionately, and then more gently—lingering, tasting each other, mapping out the ground for the onslaught they both knew was coming.
Slowly but firmly, he unzipped her dress and put his hand on her back. She pushed off his jacket and pulled his tie open. They were in a rush now, each busying themselves with their own cloth
ing. When Alina stepped out of her dress, he pulled her to him and put his head on her breasts, his hands kneading them through her bra. She heard him breathing in her scent, and it drove her wild. Her hands flew to his waistband, eager to find what was hidden beneath. She snapped open the buttons and reached inside. What she found made her sigh with pleasure. He was long, thick, and very hard. As she ran her hand up and down him, he reached behind her and unhooked her bra. Before it hit the ground, his mouth was on her nipples, sucking urgently, making them hard and making her squirm. When she felt his hand inside he panties, she rubbed his penis harder. His fingers expertly found what they were looking for and played.
“Put me on the bed and take me,” she whispered, desperate to have him inside her.
He picked her up and moved to the bed. He threw her down and watched her hair fan out around her face and her breasts wobble. He pulled off her panties and bent down to her taste her. When she felt his mouth on her, she cried out and pulled his hair. He gritted his teeth and endured the pain.
“God you taste so good,” he said, pulling up to take off his clothes.
“Hurry up. I want you back down there.”
She needn't have worried. His mouth searched out her clitoris and began to trace small circles over it. The feeling of this man between her legs was indescribable. There was something so different about it. She'd had sex twice before with young men she'd liked from college, but this was in another league. He was a mature man who knew exactly how to please her, and he was rich and handsome.
Soon she began to gasp for air, his mouth still on her wet folds, his hands massaging her breasts, driving her to a mind-blowing orgasm.
Still standing next to the bed, he pulled her to him and opened her legs. She didn't want him to see her belly, so she turned onto her stomach. When he looked down at the curve of her hips and buttocks and the length of her well-defined back, his penis became so hard it began to ache. He spread her legs, put his tip to her opening, and pushed himself into her warmth. She shoved her head into the bed and grabbed the sheets.
“God, Alina,” he said, gasping for air as he thrust hard, his thighs banging against her buttocks. “Do you like it?”
She turned her head to one side. “I love it. Give it to me harder.”
He took her hair, pulled her head up, and thrust as hard as he could. She cried out and shook underneath him. He felt her getting still wetter as another orgasm shuddered through her. When she came, he let go of her hair, and she fell to the bed, letting out a huge moan.
Still inside her, he began to massage her back. It was the most erotic thing she'd ever experienced. He wasn't in a rush. He was taking the time to please all of her. She sighed as his hands relieved the tension of the last few days and moaned when he started to thrust again, this time slowly, with long, regular strokes.
“My God, Ryan, you're so...” She didn't finish. Her next orgasm took over. His hands massaging her back and the feel of him moving inside her was too much. She held on to the bed when her whole body convulsed.
He was anxious to see her face now. He pulled out of her and turned her over. Her hands flew to her belly, but he pulled them away and kissed the area she was trying to hide. She tried to push him away, but he didn't move. The kisses continued until she relaxed.
“All of you is beautiful,” he said.
“But I hate my—” He put a finger to her lips, and she fell silent.
He got onto the bed next to her and pushed her legs open. She threw her arms around him when he entered her again. His body felt great on hers. It was hard and muscular, and she loved the feel of the hairs on his thighs. She rubbed her hand over his chin, feeling the coarseness.
They kissed, their tongues moving in time to his thrusts. Soon she felt his shaft twitching, and she knew he couldn't last much longer. She didn't care anymore whether he was her boss or not. He was her lover, and his arousal was hers.
“Come inside me,” she said. “I want your sperm deep in me.” Ryan cried out, pushed her arms into the bed, and came, remaining still until every drop left him.
*****
It was as most days in LA: beautiful. Only it was much warmer than usual. Alina was dreading the day in front of her. She and Ryan had been lovers for months, but she was beginning to have doubts about where it was all leading. Reluctantly, she'd decided that Ryan wasn't the man for her. He wasn't husband material and never would be. Ryan was married to his business, and as long as he had a beautiful woman to bang, he would be happy.
“Ryan, can I talk to you?” she said as soon as he arrived.
“Sure. For you, anything.” He was in a great mood, and that made her task all the more difficult.
“Ryan, I've decided I want to end our relationship.”
“Nice one. Now, what do you really want to talk about?”
“Ryan, listen to me. I don't want it anymore. It's not right. You're my boss. I know I've let it go on for too long, but I hope you understand. It's not right.”
“Why do you want to stop?”
“I've told you. You're the boss and always will be. We will never have a relationship on an even footing. I have learned so much here, about business and about...sex.”
He smiled. “Which have you learned more about?”
“Sex,” she admitted.
“Okay. If you stay, you know I'll always want you.”
“That's just the problem. You're the boss, and I'll always feel like I have to give myself to you.”
“What about Paris?” he asked.
“What?”
“Pierre, the developer we met, he told me he's looking for an international PA. It'd be great for you, a chance in a million.”
“Ryan,” she exclaimed. “That would be...fabulous.”
“Then I'll call him.”
*****
Alina lived and worked in Paris for the rest of her life. Every time she passed the Four Seasons George V Hotel, she remembered the night she'd first made love to Ryan. She saw it as the moment her great adventure began. If she hadn't made love to him, she wouldn't be in Paris and she would never have met her wonderful husband, Jacques, or had her children, Emma and Charlotte.
BILLIONAIRE BOSS Romance – What the Boss Wants, He Gets
Colten Lewis looked at his watch. He hated tardiness. He looked up at the tatty apartment building and imagined what it would look like once his builders had finished with it. The rental income from the luxury apartments would be much higher than it was now. How could a real estate owner let a building in such a prime location get so dilapidated? he wondered. All the tenants would have to leave. There would be protests, no doubt. The usual ban the bomb, support mass immigration assholes would turn up. Then there would be the press reporting what a bad man he was for putting old ladies and families with handicapped kids on the streets. They always took that line, the press. But not one of the journalists had ever bothered to dig below the surface and see what Colten really did with tenants he wanted to move. Most of them got more cash than they could earn in a lifetime, and if they went without making a fuss, he always rehoused them in much better accommodations. The problem was that if you had to move three hundred tenants, there were always a couple who chained themselves to the front door in protest. Most of those who protested had never done a day’s work in their lives. Colten called them freeloaders, people who lived on welfare and feigned illness so they would never have to work.
“You're late,” Colten said as he got out of his chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce. “The price has just gone down a hundred grand.”
“Sorry, Colten. Bloody traffic,” Jim Nail said. Jim was old now, and he could no longer run a credible business. It had all become too fast for him. The deals were more complicated than in years gone by. In those days, you shook a man's hand and the deal was done, no clowning around with lots of lawyers. At seventy-six, he'd decided to sell his portfolio, and he intended to sell most of it to Colten. He knew Colten would drive a hard bargain, but Colten was trustwo
rthy and did what he said he would do.
“You're not walking too well, Jim,” Colten observed.
“Gout,” Jim replied.
“Not surprised, what with all the alcohol you pour down your neck.”
Colten was one hard son of a bitch, but he was straight and fair. Jim laughed to himself when he remembered what his wife always said when she talked about Colten: great mind, great body, great catch.
“Where's that lovely PA you used to have? Every time I call your office I get some guy on the phone,” Jim asked.
“Fired her,” Colten said coolly.
“Why? She was hot and efficient. Why would you fire such a good advert for your company?”
“Because she didn't do what she was told,” Colten replied.
“You mean she wouldn't let you screw her.”
“That would be very wrong of me as a boss,” Colten said.
“But true nonetheless,” Jim added. Colten smiled.
“Anyhow, I've got a new PA starting Monday. If you thought the last one was nice, you've gotta see this one.”
*****
“Are you nervous, Avaline?” Penny asked.
“No. Why should I be?” Avaline Francis replied as she put the finishing touches on her nails.
“Maybe you've forgotten, but you start your first job tomorrow. You know, at CL Real Estate?”
“How could I forget,” Avaline replied.
Avaline and Penny shared a student apartment in a seedy area of Los Angeles. Not that either of them was still a student. They had both recently finished secretarial college and had found jobs. Penny had passed a casting shoot and was soon to star in a porn movie with one of America's hottest adult actors. Avaline had also given the idea of porn some thought but had decided it was degrading. When she'd gone to pick Penny up from the studio, the director had begged Avaline to take her clothes off, but she'd refused.
“It's such a pity. You're really hot. Look at your sexy legs and those boobs,” he'd said.
Avaline wondered how a gay man could possibly judge her, but apparently he was one of the world's best adult movie makers, so he must know a thing or two.
