Chapter 9
The next day I wake to the sound of humming. The digital clock on the bedside table says it’s only five-forty-five in the fucking morning and Zane is humming. It’s uncanny. I’m not used to morning people.
I climb out of bed, feeling surprisingly refreshed. I handle the necessities. Wash my hands and then wash my face. There’s deodorant on my side and I use it. Then I plug in the straight iron and while it’s heating up, I dive into the makeup. There are all sorts of colors. I go for brown eyeliner and sage green eye shadow. I apply some black mascara, a hint of blush and taupe lipstick with some frost lip-gloss over the top.
I quickly straighten the ends of my hair, run the brush through it and put some mink oil on the ends.
Not bad, I think and head into the closet. While I was in there last night I saw a pink silk blouse that I wanted to try. First, I pull open a drawer and put on a lacy pink bra and undies. Next I put on a tan skirt. It’s so soft it feels like suede, but it isn’t. It’s a material I haven’t felt before. It hits my thighs a couple of inches above the knee. I slide on the blouse and button it up. It’s beautiful. There’s a pair of tan sling backs in one of the shoe cubbies and I take them out and set them on the floor. I put on a sheer pair of thigh highs and then slide into the shoes. There’s a full-length mirror in the bathroom and I can’t help but admire my reflection.
“You’re stunning,” Zane says, sliding his arms around my waist.
“Thank you,” I respond, unable to hold in my giddiness. I feel like a business woman.
“Come into the living room. I’ve got eggs, toast, and coffee. Whatever you want.”
I follow him out and sit in one of two overstuffed dining chairs. Food covers the glass tabletop and it all smells delicious.
“May I?” I ask, looking at the cantaloupe overflowing in a bowl.
“Please. This is for you. I’ve already eaten.”
I look around but don’t see any used plates. I can’t help but wonder what he ate. “Thanks,” I say and load my plate with eggs, cantaloupe, and a piece of toast.
“You like coffee?” he asks.
I shrug. His handsome features flash anger. I momentarily forgot he doesn’t like that. He prefers I speak my answers.
“Yes, I like coffee, but tea is preferred, especially in the morning,” I say quickly.
“Good to know. I’ll remember that for tomorrow.” He pours me a cup of coffee. “Cream? Sugar?”
“No, thank you.” I take the cup and sip. It’s strong, but good.
I polish off my plate and we head downstairs. It’s then that I notice Zane has changed. He’s wearing a pair of black slacks, a crisp white shirt, and a red, white, and black striped tie. His long blond hair is combed back, making his dark lashes and brown eyes stand out.
“You look very handsome,” I say as we step into the elevator. There’s no bellman this morning, just Lincoln. I smile at him and he nods his acknowledgement.
“Thank you, Cadence.” Zane grabs my ass and I jump. “Your ass looks sumptuous in that skirt.”
“Did you have invisible fairies take my measurements while I was sleeping?” I ask, only half joking. The clothes do seem to fit me perfectly.
“Something like that,” he answers and winks. “I have my ways.”
“Yeah, obviously.”
There’s a limousine waiting for us outside.
It’s raining and the air is heavy with moisture. Lincoln holds the limo door open and I climb in. Zane gets in after me.
We ride to the office in silence. Zane is going over some paperwork. I watch out the window, enjoying the rain.
Sooner than I expected we arrive at a gate. Lincoln rolls down his window. “Mr. Zane,” he says and the guard waves him through.
The offices are three small bungalows behind a couple of lots at Universal Studios. We pull in front and Lincoln lets us out.
Zane opens the door to a flurry of people already inside.
There are two receptionists inside the door. They both have bleached blond hair.
“Hello, Mr. Zane,” they say in unison. Then they see me, and their happy expressions change to haughtiness.
“This is Cadence. Her title is PFA.” He looks at me and winks. I hide a smile behind my hand. “She’s my personal assistant. If she asks for something, that means it’s coming from me. Be sure you give her whatever she wants, needs, or otherwise asks for. Got it?”
“Yes, Mr. Zane,” they say in unison.
“Excellent.” He turns to me. “Cadence, if you’ll follow me.”
“Of course, Mr. Zane.” He leads me down a hall past several closed doors to an office.
Inside are a mahogany desk and a tall, leather chair. On the right is a window. It’s covered with wooden blinds. A ficus tree and three chairs stand along the same wall as the door. Against the far wall, behind the desk, is a bookcase. It’s filled with books, awards, manuscripts, and photos.
The photos hold pictures of two children. A boy and a girl.
I’m drawn to them and pick up one.
Zane takes it from my hands and sets it back down. “Personal life is not part of the contract, Cadence.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, moving back to the door.
“It’s fine. There will probably be some adjusting on both our parts. I’ve never done this before and I’m guessing neither have you.”
“You’re right. I haven’t.” I tuck my hands behind my back.
“We’ll work through it.” He reaches out and grabs my hands in his. “We obviously fuck like we’re meant for each other. I’m sure our working relationship will fall into place after a while.”
A knock at the door interrupts him. He drops my hands. Irritation crosses his features.
“What is it?” he growls and sits behind his desk.
One of the blondes walks in. She gives me a sideways glance and I glare. I sure as shit am not here to make friends, and I certainly won’t be taking any flak. I answer to no one but Zane.
Mr. Zane, my mind corrects.
She sits in a leather chair across the desk from Zane. “You have several messages.” She hands them to him. He takes them and sets them on the desk.
“Anything else?”
“Yes, your one o’clock meeting has been moved to three and your five o’clock has been changed to five thirty.”
“Excellent. That is all.”
The girl moves to the door. “Would you like lunch brought in or will you be eating out?” She gives me a once over.
“Kim, I’m not sure. When I’ve decided, I’ll let you know.”
“Alright.” She leaves and doesn’t shut the door.
“Can you close that, Cadence?” Zane asks, indicating the door.
“Of course.”
When it’s shut he smiles. “Lock it.”
I turn the lock and for some reason my thighs start to quiver.
“Come here.”
I move to him.
He pushes back his chair and unzips his pants. His cock his hard and springs from where it’s been tucked. “God, you’re fucking glorious. I saw the way you looked at Kim.”
“I’m your PFA, Mr. Zane,” I say softly.
He pulls me closer and raises my skirt. He sees my lacy panties and growls. “No more undies at the office, sweet Cadence.” From his desk drawer he takes out a pair of scissors and uses them to cut my panties away. He puts the scissors back in the drawer and pulls out a long piece of blue material.
Blue, like the Blue Room I think, and my pussy gets wet.
Zane smiles. He knows. He’s trained whores before, I think, but can’t be too upset, because I want to experience whatever he’s got planned in his kinky fucking mind.
“Get on your knees,” he whispers and I immediately comply. He ties the material around my neck.
“What are you doing?” I ask as nervous butterflies dance low in my belly.
“While we fuck I’m going to pull on this—”
I gasp, but
she shushes me.
“Trust me. It won’t be too hard.”
I nod.
He tsks at me. “When will you learn, my sweet Cadence?” As he speaks, he pulls my hair back and bites my neck.
There’s going to be a mark, I think as wetness from my pussy leaks onto my thigh.
He lifts and turns me so my back is facing him. Then he spreads my pussy and sticks a finger inside.
“God, you’re perfect,” he says, pulling me onto his rock hard shaft.
I moan quietly as I move up and down. One hand is on my hip and the other pulls on the material. It forces my head back and presses against my throat.
A hint of fear rises into my chest, but that turns me on.
“Feels good, right?”
I’m about to nod, but think better of it.
“So fucking good,” I rasp out and he pulls the cloth tighter. He forces my pussy onto his cock harder and harder.
After a few minutes I fall back into him and wrap my arms around his neck. The movement forces him deeper inside me.
“Holy shit. Your pussy is divine.”
I grab his hands and rock back and forth on his dick, the tip massaging deep inside. The pressure builds. I rock harder.
“That’s it, sweet Cadence. Fuck.” He releases the material and grabs my hips with both hands, moving me up and down on him faster.
The tension is over the top and I put my hands in my hair. “Fuck. Fuck me, Mr. Zane. Fuck me hard.”
My orgasm comes with his. I want so badly to scream out. Zane seems to sense it and wraps a hand over my mouth.
Our movements slow and I fall against him.
Zane opens a drawer and pulls out a container. “Get cleaned up,” he says.
I stand and do as he asks. Then I straighten my skirt and tuck in my shirt. Zane zips his pants and readjusts himself.
When we’re finished, he says, “Your office is next door to mine. Go in and take a look around. Turn on the computer and see if there’s anything you don’t understand. I’ll be in in a few minutes to go over what I want you to do today.”
“Yes, Mr. Zane.” I open the door and walk to the next office.
Chapter 10
My office is a smaller version of Zane’s. The chair is brown instead of black, as is the bookcase.
A few books line the shelves, but there are no photos.
It’s nice, though. I like it.
The giddiness I felt earlier returns.
This is my office.
I turn on the computer. Watch it boot up. It looks pretty standard. There’s an Internet icon and I click on it.
When it pulls up, I type in John Zane.
There are more than eight million search results with that name.
The first is a picture of him standing next to John Cruze.
“No fucking way,” I whisper, and click on the link.
It’s an article talking about how Jaguar Pixel Studios brought John Cruze on as the lead actor in their latest production, The Supernatural Client List. It states how excited John Cruze is to be doing another action film.
Further down is a picture of John Cruze without a shirt on. He’s at the beach, the wind blowing in his slightly longer blond hair. His body is beyond gorgeous, as is his face. He’s showing off is megawatt smile and his damn dimple. He’s quoted as saying, “Mr. Zane and I talked about how we want my body to look for this film. After much discussion we went with lean meets muscular. I’ve been on a diet of egg whites and steak for the last six months.”
I think about the night I spent with him. We drank wine, ate cheese. Definitely not egg whites and steak.
Lying motherfucker, I think, and can’t stop the smile from pulling up my lips.
Zane and John are in another picture together, both wearing suits and holding drinks. They look like their friends.
The article continues: “Filming begins later this month with Mr. Zane flying in from Belize. He’s a hands on kind of guy and will be staying throughout the filming process.”
Sick feelings begin to form in my stomach.
The article is dated three days ago. That means… I don’t even want to let my mind go where it’s going.
That means the film—The Supernatural Client List—is the film Zane and John are making. Together. Fucking together.
I can’t even believe my stupid luck.
It doesn’t mean you’ll ever have to see him though, my mind whispers.
And I hope it’s true. I really don’t want to see Zane and John in the same building, let alone at the same time.
There’s a knock and I look up as the door opens.
My worst nightmare is happening.
Shock spreads across John’s face and I’m sure it matches my own. He recovers more quickly than I do.
“Cadence,” he says, stepping into my office.
My mouth opens and closes several times as I try to come up with something to say. Words like hi or what the fuck have crossed my mind, but they don’t come out. I’m working on it though. I’m going to figure out what to say. I stand, at least.
Then Zane comes in the room. He flashes a bright smile. Anything I thought of saying dies on my lips.
“John. Right on time. I figured your ‘hottest man on the planet’ status would’ve made it so you thought you could be late.” He pats John on the back.
John chuckles.
“Nah, I’m here to work, Mr. Zane.” He gives me a strange look and I wonder what he’s thinking.
“This is Cadence,” Zane says. “I believe you may’ve already met her.” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully.
“Yes, I have,” John says, stepping closer to me and extending his hand. I take it. It’s warm and masculine, and a shiver of affection courses through my body.
John’s eyes are hooded, and I think maybe he’s feeling something similar to me. At least that’s what I hope, but I could be totally mistaken.
Zane clears his throat and I quickly shake John’s hand and let go.
“It was a total accident, but a good one. At least I think so.” John says, winking. I try to smile but it feels more like a grimace.
I send up a prayer that the walls will come crashing down and bury me under the rubble. The tension in the room is so thick it feels like we’re standing in chocolate pudding.
My thighs quiver and I have to sit.
The outlook for the next six months just went from manageable to a fucking disaster, I think, but try to keep the fake smile plastered to my face. I can’t help the icky feelings coursing through me. Zane knows I fucked John. And it looks like he intends to rub that information in.
Zane pierces me with a look that says I’m going to pay later for whatever I did wrong just now.
I swallow.
“Want to come into my office and I’ll run through what we’ve got planned for you today?” Zane pulls the door open and waves a hand, indicating John should join him.
“Sound great, Mr. Zane.” He waves at me and walks out of the room.
A sinister smile crosses Zane’s face. “Thank you for this uncomfortable exchange. I can’t wait until tonight. I intend to teach you what it means to be my PFA.”
He leaves, closing the door behind him.
I’m a wreck. Emotionally I’m so excited for the opportunity to see John every day. For six months, my mind shouts.
Physically, I’m turned on by the promise from Zane.
Psychologically, I know I’m so fucked up it’s ridiculous.
I’m okay with it. I’m totally fucking okay with it.
I don’t even care.
For two reasons: I’m going to learn about what it meant to run a business. And John Cruze.
Also, I’m fucking with intent, which is better than fucking for nothing.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
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p; Table of Contents
Cover
Main Menu
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Copyright Information
Table of Contents
Distorted Lines (Blurred Lines Volume 2) Page 4
