The Billionaire’s Contract (His Submissive #1)(5)
Author: Ava Claire

I hadn’t the time to meet my fellow grunts, but I did know that the manager, Christy, snapped her finger at a mousy girl with inky hair and cleared her throat at a middle aged man with spiky blond locks and a bright blue tie so I’d affectionately named them Snap Girl and Spike. When Christy and I spun back into the room with our cart of outgoing mail, both looked at me with pity before turning back to their work.

Christy turned to face me and there was no pity on her hawk like features. "Come along, Lily."

"It’s ‘Leila’,” I cut at her, smoothing it over with a smile when she frowned at the correction.

She waited for me to catch up before continuing to a wall lined with lcd screens. Each was filled with documents and memos and the names and documents changed every couple of seconds or so.

"I know it looks complicated," Christy said, eyes on the screen. "But it certainly doesn’t take an Ivy League education to figure out." I bristled at the jab and she stopped to give me a hardly sympathetic smile before continuing. "Now, if you’ll take a look at-"

Snap Girl cleared her throat behind us. "Uh, Mrs. Moore-"

"If it’s a page for me just hold it until I’m done with, Lauren,” Christy snapped.

I opened my mouth to correct her, but someone beat me to the punch.

"It’s Leila."

Both of us whipped our heads to face the smoky voice.

"You!" I gasped, my eyes locking onto him. Jacob looked like something out of GQ in a charcoal gray suit that fit him like sin. A pale blue tie against his white shirt made his eyes glitter. "What are you–why are you-"

"Mr. Whitmore!" Christy said quickly, pushing in front of me like I was some royal embarrassment. "I wasn’t expecting-"

Her babbling became an unpleasant buzz in my ear and then it was nothing, nothing but his eyes smoldering and every inch of me humming with awareness of him. My whole body tingled–my shoulders beneath my silk blouse, the area at the back of my knees, my toes. I couldn’t help but imagine throwing my arms around his sturdy neck and feeling his hands run against the curve of my bottom as he lifted me up. I couldn’t help but wonder if his swell would thump and dance for the freedom we both crave.

My secret desires must have been all over my face because the side of his mouth curved upward slightly and he broke the trance, turning to Christy.

"I’m afraid I owe you an apology, Mrs. Moore."

She looked at him like he’d grown a second head. "You do?"

"You’ll be down an associate until a replacement for Miss Montgomery can be found."

Great. He was firing me? My throat was dry as sandpaper. I was so close. I couldn’t lose this job. An alarm went off in my head and I opened my mouth to beg, grovel if need be, but he held up a finger, silencing me.

"I have another position that would be perfect for our new employee."

Now I was the one looking at him strangely. "You do?"

"Yes. Come with me."

I hesitated, not missing the look of disdain behind Christy’s dark eyes before I hustled behind my boss. I had so many questions, but as I watched his muscular frame move beneath his slick suit, everything melted away except for his body. My gaze washed over his shoulders then down the muscular expanse of his back.

Stop it, I chastised myself, looking away. He told me to never speak of that day again. Clearly he thinks it was as big a mistake as I do.

We pushed into the elevator and I stood awkwardly beside him, chewing on my lip. The quiet, the not knowing, along with the close proximity of him was maddening.

"I’m being considered for another position?" I let out hoarsely.

"Yes."

"What position?"

"A highly paid one."

I cocked my head at him. "And what highly paid position am I being considered for?"

"Personal assistant." He adjusted his tie. "My personal assistant."

I opened my mouth to protest, but remembered my whole spiel about ‘scrubbing toilets’. After all, from mailroom clerk to personal assistant in four hours was pretty impressive. It probably didn’t hurt that I’d let him fondle me yesterday. Ashamed, I swallowed the rest of my questions and dropped my head. I still felt his eyes dance over me.

"You worry that this promotion is due to our time together, don’t you?"

I didn’t respond, looking forward stubbornly as I remembered how he snapped at me when I dared to bring it up. I had a feeling he already knew the answer, but I nodded anyway.

"A verbal response would be appreciated, Leila." It wasn’t a request.

Red gripped my cheeks, but indignation made me whip to face him. "I don’t know–are we talking about it today? Or is it still our dirty little secret?"

His body tightened at my snide remark. “Answer the question, Leila. Do you think I’m promoting you because of what we did together yesterday?”

“Yes,” I said, barely above a whisper.

"I see."

The cabin came to a stop and the doors pushed open and the wow that rose in my throat came spilling out. My guilt over how I secured my position faded away as I took in the posh executive suite. While the lobby had wooden statement pieces and glass sculptures and the other floors were lined with mahogany with postmodern desks and Pollock paintings, the suite employed less is more with crisp white walls and marble floors. The only color came at the end of the corridor, the secretary’s desk a soft sandalwood.

We took stock of each other, she perching a brow at my ensemble and me craving the white shift she wore.

"Hold all my calls, Natasha."

The surprise on her face spoke volumes but she managed a ‘yes sir’ and I gave her a smug look before following Jacob into his office.

The elegance that permeated through the rest of the building blossomed in Jacob’s abode. Wood carvings hung on the white walls and splashes of color were found in the chaise in the corner, and a minibar on the opposite side. Behind a cherry wood desk, all the colors of the bustling city sparkled behind the floor to ceiling window. I felt the life pulsing through the glass, so close and vibrant that I could reach out and touch it. He didn’t even break his stride, immediately moving to retrieve something from his desk.

He handed me the device and when I pressed the button to bring the screen up, I saw a scanned electronic contract.

He walked to the front of the desk and leaned against the edge. "Feel free to read through it in its entirety. A copy was also emailed to the address we have for you on file."

I was far from fluent in legalese but when I scanned over it, words like non-disclosure agreement stuck out at me. Made sense. For all the pictures determined photogs snapped of him and his flavor of the weeks, none of the women ever gave a tell-all account.