Lip Service:A Bad Boy Billionaire RomanceBy: Jessa James
Carter Buchanan, Billionaire, President of Buchanan Industries — Biotech Division
Emma walked out of the conference room, her luscious ass swinging side to side in that fucking pencil skirt and I couldn’t tear my gaze from her curves. Not even when my cock grew hard as granite beneath the table. I had it bad for Emma. Bad. I sported the worst case of blue balls imaginable and it was all because of her.
She'd waltzed into my office a year ago with an armful of files, introduced herself as my brother, Ford's, new secretary, and I'd almost come in my pants then and there. My brother had all the fucking luck. Since that first moment, when I saw her perfect tits framed in that tight, black sweater, her wide hips and perfect ass hugged by long linen pants, I could think of nothing but bending her over my desk and making her mine.
But the company had a strict hands-off policy. Hell, so did I. But HR would have a lawsuit on their hands if they knew all of the ways I wanted to fuck her, to claim those curves, even if she worked for Ford in a completely different department.
It wasn't just her body that drove me insane—and made my dick constantly hard—it was her sharp mind, too. Overqualified for her job, she made Ford's work life easy. She'd swooped in and organized our joint production schedules the first week, making the previous assistant seem a bumbling fool and giving my secretary, Tori, some much needed relief. Emma knew what Ford and I needed even before we did. Hell, the other execs, too. I considered putting her up for a promotion, but then I'd miss hearing her softly pitched, "Good morning, Carter," as she waltzed into the staff meeting every Tuesday and Thursday morning at precisely 8:00 am.
Yes, all those fucking thoughts—and thoughts about fucking—made me an asshole, but I hadn't touched her. I'd imagined it so many different ways, but all of them had one thing in common. I'd fuck her raw, no condom, and I'd fill her with my cum. I'd shoot it so far inside her, and so often, that she'd never be able to wash the scent of me from her body. She'd be marked as mine. Yes, every fuck fest in my head ended with me claiming her in the most elemental of ways, filling her with my baby as I made her writhe and beg for release.
Not very gentlemanly of me. But every time I saw her, my Ivy League education and analytical mind devolved about a million years. I changed into something primal. A caveman. I wanted to tangle my fingers in her hair and drag her into my office and fuck her. Make sure she knew exactly who she belonged to.
I’d discreetly asked my brother about her on several occasions. Ford had told me to fuck off and find my own secretary. And that was why I'd left her alone for the last twelve months. I wasn't just an asshole, I was an old asshole. Ten years her senior. I was ready to settle down, to get on with that house with the picket fence, the two kids and a fucking Labrador Retriever. She made me think crazy thoughts, want things I never imagined I’d want. But I did. I wanted that fucking house. I wanted her round and pregnant with my baby. I even wanted the fucking dog. But only with her.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t ready. Emma was just twenty-four and needed to live a little before a dominating caveman like me took over her life. Once she was mine, I’d want total control. I’d fuck her when I wanted to, pamper her the way I wanted to, make sure she came so many times on my hard cock that she never looked at another man again. I’d ruin her, and she wasn’t ready for that. Not for what I wanted to give her. I'd waited a year already and she graduated in a few weeks with a Master’s in Finance. Yeah, she could analyze my fucking numbers anytime.
Sure, I’d waited like a fucking gentleman, tried to give her the space she needed to sow her wild oats. I figured I could wait a few more weeks.
At least, that was the plan. But when I heard her voice drifting down the hallway from the copy room, everything changed.
"I hate being a virgin," she said. I doubted she knew her voice carried, but I was glad it was me that heard her confession. If it had been anyone else who knew her secret, I'd have to beat the shit out of them. No one messed with Emma. She might be Ford's secretary, but she was mine.
I was walking past, heading back to the elevators after our Thursday meeting on the fourteenth floor when I recognized her voice. It was her words though, that had me leaning against the wall and out of sight. Eavesdropping. She'd turned me into a fucking eavesdropper. No, the fact that she'd said she was a virgin had.