The Novella Collection

by D. L. Savage

  But the moment it’s all over, as I push myself back to my feet and adjust my skirt, Logan zipping up his pants, I’m consumed once again by a feeling of regret. Because hot as that sex just was, I know I can’t carry on like this. I wanted a real job, damn it. Not just to be Logan Hunter’s fucking whore ...

  “To the Excelsior Hotel please,” Logan announces as we bundle into a waiting limo outside the airport.

  “Very good, Mister Hunter,” the driver replies, as we zoom away.

  “Hotel?” I ask, taken aback. “You didn’t mention this was an overnight trip. I haven’t brought a change of clothes ...”

  “Oh trust me, Abbie,” he growls. “You won’t be needing them once I get you back to the room.”

  “Logan,” I murmur, totally embarrassed for him to be talking to me this way in front of the driver. “Tell me there is a conference, at least.”

  “Oh yes,” he says, lazily, taking out his cell phone and tapping away at the screen. “Don’t worry, my dear. You can play at PA, too. But after that? You’re all mine ...”

  Inwardly I scream. I scream at how much I hate this fucking entitled bastard. I scream at how he thinks he can do whatever he likes with me. And most of all, I scream at just how much it turns me on ...

  * * *

  And if there was any doubt left in my mind about Logan’s real motives for the weekend, one look at the hotel room – just a double bed for us both to share – confirms it. I have to admit, this place is pretty fancy. Elegantly furnished, plush carpet, amazing huge bathroom. But still. Do I really want to be spending the night here with that bastard?

  “How’s about we both take a shower to freshen up?” he smiles at me, arching a thick dark eyebrow suggestively. “We’ve still got an hour or so until the conference.”

  “Uh, actually?” I say, fighting hard against the part of me that wants his cock deep inside my dampening pussy again, “I think I’m gonna wait in the lobby downstairs. I’ll see you there ...”

  And I quickly turn and stride towards the door, proud of myself for resisting him.

  “Oh just wait for tonight,” he calls after me.

  Fuck you, asshole, I think as I slam the door behind me, trying to ignore the pulsing throb of my clit, not to mention the way I can feel the warm dampness in my thong as I head for the elevators.

  Down in the lobby, I take a seat on one of the plush leather seats, my heart still pounding, as I wonder again just what the hell I’m gonna do about this mess. Can I really stay working for this asshole? And then another thought flashes into my mind: James.

  Maybe it’s silly, but I feel bad that I told him I’d be back tonight.

  I take out my cell and shoot him a quick message: Hey, turns out I’m at a conference for work. I’ll be home tomorrow. X

  I hit send. And a moment later, I get a reply.

  With him?

  I pause, my glossy fingernails hovering over the screen of my phone, wondering what to say. But I just can’t lie. He deserves the truth.

  Yes, I reply.

  I wait for him to send me another message, but he doesn’t. And I just know, deep down, that I’ve hurt him.

  “Ready?” says a voice, busting me out of my thoughts.

  I look up to face Logan Hunter, standing there before me, immaculately dressed, looking for all the world like he’s stepped straight out of the pages of GQ, a cruel smile playing on his thick, sensual lips.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I mutter, getting to my feet.

  He offers me his arm, and I take it, my heels clicking on the polished floor of the lobby as we head out of the building, towards his waiting limo ...

  And when we arrive? Well, it turns out, the ‘conference’ turns out to be nothing more than some excuse for a bunch of suit-wearing assholes like Logan Hunter to just get drunk and show off to each other about how much money they’re earning. I feel my heart sink as I look around the large conference room, which is ninety-nine percent male; a whole room of men just like Logan.

  And again, I want to scream. Because I realize now that I was never gonna make it in this cut-and-thrust world as Aaron – a pathetic, nervous beta male. And I’m still never gonna make it as Abbie, either. Because for a girl like me? All they want is my looks. I’m just arm-candy for Logan, nothing more than that.

  He’s taking great pleasure in introducing me to all his buddies and contacts. “Greg, Chase, this is my new assistant Abbie,” he announces, as he walks me around the room, and from the hungry looks in their eyes and the knowing smiles they give Logan, I can tell what they’re all thinking.

  He’s fucking her.

  Which is true, isn’t it?

  God, I need to get out of this mess, and fast.

  “I’m going to go and grab a drink,” I say, slipping out from his hand which is currently around my waist, and making a beeline for the champagne table in the corner. Because if I am going to spend my afternoon in this hellhole, I figure I might as well at least take advantage of the free booze.

  I reach the table and grab the first glass of champagne I set my eyes on, lifting it to my lips and knocking back the whole thing in one go. Then I set down my empty glass and reach for a second.

  “Let me guess,” a woman’s voice says from over my shoulder, “you needed that?”

  I turn around to face a kindly looking older woman in a smart dark navy pantsuit, with perfectly coiffed golden hair and pristine makeup. She looks rich, but kind, smiling at me in a warm, genuine way.

  “I sure did,” I smile back, taking a smaller sip of my second glass.

  “So who are you here with?” she says, leaning in a little. “Which company, I mean?”

  “Hunter Logistics,” I say quietly.

  “You mean Logan Hunter’s company?” she says, her eyes widening. “Well, honey, no wonder you’re drinking like there’s no tomorrow.”

  “Tell me about it,” I sigh, rolling my eyes.

  “So what do you do there?” the kindly woman persists. “I’m Ellen by the way, nice to meet you.”

  “I’m Abbie,” I reply, shaking her hand. And then, after another deep sigh, I just start confessing. Maybe it’s the champagne going straight to my head, or maybe it’s simply the fact that I have another woman to confide in, but before I know it, I seem to have told her my whole damn life story. Well, almost. (I skipped out the part where a crazy old woman transformed me into a girl, of course.) But I’ve told her all about my qualifications, how I really wanted this job, and how in reality, Logan Hunter seems to have only one thing on his mind.

  “Oh, sweetie,” she says, shaking her head compassionately. “My heart goes out to you, it really does. It was the same way when I first started in this business. Men only seemed to be after my body. But I learnt how to use my looks to my advantage, and – like you – I had a good head on my shoulders. Which is why I’m now running my own company. Here ...”

  At this, she pauses to reach into her purse and bring out a business card, handing it to me.

  “If you ever get sick of working for that bastard, give me a call.”

  I stare down at the card, processing the name on it.

  E.W. Michelmore

  “No way,” I say incredulously. “You’re E.W. Michelmore?!”

  I’d heard about the name so many times – the mysterious, reclusive head of one of the major corporations in my field. But never for a second had I thought that it was a woman!

  “The very same,” she smiles back, giving me a conspiratorial little wink. “I mean it, honey. Give me a call when you get home. I think I could find a place for a girl like you in my business. One where you could actually use your head instead of just your body.”

  And with that, she turns and leaves, walking off into the crowd, leaving me stunned and speechless.

  “Who was that?” Logan’s voice says in my ear a moment later, and I spin round to face him, taken off guard.

  “Uh, nobody,” I murmur, quickly slipping the business card into my purs
e.

  “Good,” he growls, his voice low and charged with lust. “Because we’re leaving. I’ve spoken to everyone I want to here, and right now, Abbie, what I really want to do is eat that pretty cunt of yours. So come on, we’re leaving.”

  We hardly speak as we take the limo back to the hotel. My thoughts are still swirling – flitting from my brand new chance to get away from this bastard forever, then back to his words as we left: What I really want to do is eat that pretty cunt of yours ...

  And I have to admit, much as I hate him, I want him, too. Want him one last time. Want to be fucked good and hard, before I escape him forever. That sounds crazy, right? But it’s the only way I can explain it. Because while my mind hates him, my body still craves him – craves the way he takes control, craves the way he uses me like the fucking slut I am.

  Maybe I need to see a damn psychiatrist, I think as we arrive at the hotel, still in silence.

  We head through the lobby towards the elevators. And the moment we step inside, the doors closing on us, sealing us in a heady silence, he turns to me and pushes me roughly up against the wall, crushing his lips against mine.

  I moan despite myself, feeling my body once again responding so powerfully too him, my clit aching, my nipples hardening and the flashes of excitement and anticipation rocketing through my body as his hands roughly cup my ass through my skirt, grinding my aching pussy against the hot hard bulge of his cock through his suit pants.

  But our kiss is broken by the soft ding as the elevator reaches its destination and he pulls away, turning and striding towards the room, the room we’ll be sharing tonight, and I follow him, powerless to resist.

  He opens the door and we both step inside, and before it’s even closed behind us, he growls, “Get on the bed and spread your fucking legs for me.”

  I shiver in anticipation, doing just as he says, and in moments he’s on his knees before me, roughly pushing up my skirt, to expose the bare skin at the tops of my stockings and of course my black panties.

  As his hands yank my panties down over my thighs in one quick, confident movement, I close my eyes, melting into the sheets, as a moment later I feel his lips enclose the sensitive nub of my clit, his tongue circling me there with a hungry intensity.

  I part my legs wider and wider, arching my back, my fingers winding into his thick hair, as his tongue laps and licks at my yearning pussy, teasing my clit, then plunging between my lips, each movement of his mouth causing fresh shivers of excitement and pleasure to crash through my body, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

  “You like that, slut?” he growls, his voice reverberating against my pussy.

  “Oh, god, yes,” I moan in reply, as his tongue continues its teasing and flicking on my clit, while his hands move to my breasts now, his thumbs brushing my rock hard nipples through the fabric of my blouse, coaxing them slowly and sensuously, all the while his tongue lapping and flicking at my clit.

  And then he does something I’m not expecting, actually sucking my clit right between his lips, and before I know it, I’m coming hard, my whole body bucking and trembling, my brain flashing white with pleasure, as Logan keeps his mouth clamped between my legs, coaxing every last drop of pleasure from my pussy, until I’m a trembling mess beneath him, flushed and shuddering, my skirt hitched up high around my waist, my legs spread wide, my skin flashing with goosebumps, and this arrogant bastard still there between my legs.

  I watch as he brings himself to his feet, his eyes blazing as he reaches down and unbuckles his belt, then unzips his suit pants, once more unsheathing that curving monster cock, with its full tight balls and glistening head.

  “See how fucking hard you’ve made me?” he murmurs, nodding down at his pulsing prick.

  And I nod, unable to tear my eyes off it, my pussy crying out to have it deep inside me.

  “Turn around,” he growls.

  I do as he says, kicking off my panties then turning around on the bed, so I’m on all fours, my ass bared to him, my body still quaking from my last orgasm.

  I gasp, as I feel his hot rough hands on my ass, spreading me wide and then his fingers slipping between my legs, sliding between my lips, teasing out more honey from my aching pussy then working it up and back, the tip of his finger touching against my asshole, just as I feel his cock push inside me, hard and deep.

  I push my ass back towards him, burying my face in the sheets as I let out a long low moan, his cock stretching me so fucking wide I feel like I might split right in two. Because like this, from behind, the sensation is even more intense – almost too much to take.

  I want to tell him to take it slow, to be gentle with me, but he does no such thing, plundering me hard and rough with his cock, so hard that I can’t help but cry out in a crazy mixture of pleasure and pain, each thrust of his hips causing another intense flash of sensation to build and crest inside me until I’m coming all over again, my pussy clamping tight on his cock, my whole body trembling.

  “Good girl, good little slut,” he growls, slipping his throbbing cock from my sopping pussy. “Now get on your fucking knees and take my load.”

  Again, I do just as he says, turning around and dropping onto my haunches by the side of the bed, gasping as I take him in my mouth, tasting my own juices on him, his fingers winding through my hair again and his whole body tensing up as, with a low moan, he lets go: flooding my throat powerfully with liquid heat.

  I gulp him back, my body still shivering from my own pleasure, cleaning his still throbbing cock with my tongue, every last drop.

  But as soon as I’m done, he pulls away, turning and zipping up his pants.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” he announces, without even looking at me.

  Fuck you, you bastard, I think, knowing I shouldn’t be surprised about the way he’s acting. After all, what was I expecting? Roses? A sweet goodnight kiss?

  No. He’s got what he wants from me, and all he ever cares about his himself.

  As he struts off into the bathroom, the door closing and the hiss of the shower emanating from inside, my eye is drawn to my purse, lying on the floor by the bed where I dropped it.

  I reach over and grab it, opening it and drawing out that business card again.

  Time to make a decision, I think.

  “Anyone home?” I call as I set foot into the apartment a few hours later.

  I did it. I left Logan Hunter, still showering in that hotel bathroom, strode out of the lobby and hailed the first cab to the airport, figuring what the hell, and maxing out my credit card on a flight back home in the process.

  But I don’t have to worry. Because in the departures lounge, I called Ellen Michelmore, telling her I wanted to take her up on her offer – and she was delighted, offering me a place on the spot.

  A grin creeps to my lips once again as I imagine Logan strutting out of the bathroom to discover me gone. Fuck you, bastard, I think.

  And now I want to see James. Sweet, kind James, who’s been here for me all this time. Who I’ve realized I want to give it a shot with, even if he isn’t the most well-endowed guy in the world. Because on the long flight home, I did a lot of thinking, and came to the conclusion that size isn’t everything.

  What I need more than anything right now is a guy who actually cares about me.

  “Hey!” a voice calls from the bathroom just then, and the door opens and out comes James, dressed in just a towel.

  And maybe it’s my imagination – or maybe he’s just a sight for sore eyes – but wow, he’s looking hot. I mean, he’s still recognizably James, but like the very best version of himself. His face is a little slimmer, more defined, his eyes look slightly bigger and darker, and his body!

  “Holy shit,” I exclaim. “Have you been working out?”

  “Something like that,” he grins back mysteriously. “How was your trip?”

  “Don’t ask,” I sigh. “It was a nightmare. But anyway, I’ve quit. Fuck that guy. I realized it wasn’t worth it.”
>
  “I’m so glad,” James smiles back. “And actually, I have some exciting news for you.”

  “Oh yeah?” I ask, puzzled.

  “Yep,” he says, trying to fight off a smile. “So I thought I’d try and track down that weird old lady? The one who sold you the magic flower in the first place? I spent hours, trudging all around the area near where you had your interview, and guess what? I actually found her!”

  “Oh, James,” I sigh. “That’s a sweet gesture, it really is ... But crazy as it sounds, even after everything that’s happened to me ... Well, I did a lot of thinking on the flight back home and I’ve decided I’m going to stay like this. Stay as Abbie. This is me now, dude. And you’re just going to have to get used to that.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” he replies. “I wanted to find her so that I could make a wish too.”

  I look back at him, puzzled.

  “So what did you wish for?” I ask.

  “This,” he says, opening his towel, drawing my eyes downward, between his muscular thighs, moving first past the tight black curls of his pubic hair, and then ...

  Holy shit.

  I feel all the moisture leave my mouth, as my eyes finally reach his cock. It’s beautiful. I know, that’s a weird way to describe it, right? But it’s the word that springs to mind, the moment I set eyes on it. I can’t exactly tell how aroused he is, but I’m guessing it must be more than a little, because he’s huge too. My eyes stay glued on the long thickness of his cock, and those big hairless balls beneath, so full-looking. And I watch, transfixed, as it actually begins to grow, right before my eyes, swelling and lengthening as if it has a mind of its own.

  He’s not even touching himself, and I watch, with a spinning head, as it just seems to grow and grow, until it’s jutting upwards, twitching above his tanned rippling abs, as he just stands there, dropping the towel around his ankles, his whole perfect body on full display.

  “I wished to be everything you’d want in a man,” he explains with a grin.