Billionaire Boss's Virgin Secretary

  Billionaire Boss’S

  Virgin Secretary

  By Darcy Kent

  Copyright © 2017 by Darcy Kent

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Olivia

  I

  can’t believe that I’m at the office this late. I gaze as Mr. White’s mouth curves while he speaks. He’s so damn hot. Every woman here wants a taste of him. I overheard them at lunch talking about him, as they have done every day I’ve worked here. It’s as if they have no other work, but to talk about him. Even — especially — when he’s not in the office. They never invite me to sit with them. Why should they? I’m only a temp who was hired to work for one month, but it’s coming to an end as his real secretary, Joanne is coming back to work early.

  “Will that be all, Mr. White?”

  He’s distracted as he looks at his phone. He turns pale white as he shouts out, “Fuck!”

  I’m taken aback by his abruptness at the best of times. I’m not a stranger to cursing. My dad used to do it all the time; getting away from him is the reason that I’m in the city.

  “Sorry Olivia, it’s just that I’ve got a party to go to and I don’t want to fucking go. I forgot all about it, and the reminder just came up on my phone.”

  I sigh, “Well, if that’s all Mr. White, then I’m going home now. Don’t forget that this is my last day and Joanne will be back on Monday.”

  Home. It feels like a joke saying it out loud, but it’s where I lay my head each night. Or try to at the best of times, but with the coming and goings of the other girls in the room, sometimes it’s a bit difficult.

  “Oh?”

  He raises an eyebrow, and even with his upset expression, he’s still as sexy as hell.

  “Yeah, remember she had minor surgery on her ankle, the doctors said that she should take a month off work. She’s been resting it at home, but I think she’s bored and desperate to get back. She’s coming back earlier than originally planned, this is why it's my last day.”

  He nods, “I see. Do you have anything lined up for when you leave here?”

  I hate to admit it.

  “No.”

  I don’t even know what I’m going to do. I’m nineteen with no experience, and as the agency politely put it, ‘You were lucky to get this job.’

  I stand up and I’m trying not to think about it. I’m staying in a seedy room that I share with three other girls. We all have the same fate; we’re on the run from something. None of us talk about it, but it’s the only reason we share a room. It’s not a luxury — it’s the only option for those of us in our situation to have anywhere to sleep. None of us talk to each other, we're not friends. Maybe the odd hello or something like that, but there's no conversation about our past, let alone what we're doing every night. I have a feeling that a couple of them work the street, that’s their business and as long as we don’t interfere in each other’s lives then it suits me fine. For now.

  “Okay, so how about tonight?”

  “Excuse me, Mr. White,” I say, thinking that he has the wrong idea about me. I may be blonde, have ample size breasts and a matching sized butt, but that doesn’t make me a piece of ass that he can play with for the night.

  “I think that it’s not a good idea.” I smile thinking that I wish I wasn’t so honest at times. Because, after all, I have nothing to do tonight. There’s no way that I’ll get a job on Monday morning, and I need the money.

  I don’t even want to think about what’s going to happen next. He stands up, and has a presence like no one I’ve ever known before. The type that’s not to be messed with and the one thing I want to do is rub him the wrong way. I have no prospects, and if I play my cards right then this dark-haired, matching eyes and olive skinned hunk may be able to refer me to another department, or company or something.

  Shoot. I should have listened to what he had in mind, before telling him no.

  “This is the problem, Olivia. My ex is holding a party,” he sits down on the edge of his desk and looks me directly in the eye, “I think that she thinks we’ll get back together. I see her as my ex. She sees us on break. Do you understand?”

  I wince. “Sort of, but if you don’t want to be with her why don’t you just tell her?”

  He crosses his strong arms, but his legs are wide open. I try and imagine if he’s as big as they say he is. The girls. The ones that love to gossip and never invite me.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  I slant my head to the side. “No.”

  “Partner?”

  “No.”

  “Had a long relationship?”

  “I’m only nineteen.”

  How old does he think I am?

  “Ah, so young,” then he smirks, “if she saw me with someone then she’ll probably move on. Most likely... I’ve told her so fucking many times that it’s not working. We weren’t even dating. We were...” He nods his head as if he’s trying to convince himself, “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. If you come and she thinks that I’m with someone else, then it’ll be a relief.”

  He sighs as he gets up. I’m sitting and staring at him. I’ve never been around a man like him before. The guys in the office are cocky, slightly arrogant, but there’s something about Mr. White — as soon as he walks into the room he commands everyone’s attention. Then again, he is the boss. He’s supposed to have that effect on everyone.

  “Sorry, I just got the wrong idea. I thought that you had something else in mind.”

  His eyes just stare at me. He says nothing, and it should make me feel uncomfortable, but it has the complete opposite effect. I feel as if he’s trying to get me to please him and that’s exactly what I intend to do right now.

  “Can I just go home and change?”

  Into what I have no idea. He may not have noticed because he was out on a business trip for most of the two weeks that I’ve been working here. He just sent me the odd email about my duties. Joanne spent more time checking everything I do. I can tell that she’s bored at home, or she’s too dedicated to her job? Even when she’s on sick leave, she wants to be in control of what happens in the office.

  He turns around and says, “No need. Grab your stuff, and we can get something on the way.”

  I’m so relieved when he says that, because apart from the suit that I’m wearing and the shirts that I rotate through every three days, I don’t have anything to wear to a party. Well, not his type of party anyway. I bet they’ll be people like him there.

  Rich. Sophisticated. And most likely they'll have so many educational certificates that they could decorate a wall with them.

  “Sure. Right away.”

  I stand up to leave and quicker than my heels can get me to the door when he blurts out, “Olivia.”

  No, he’s changed his mind.

  “Thanks.”

  My heart skips a beat when he called me right now. Mr. White’s so out of my league, but I’m flattered that he would consider going out with someone like me.

  Even if it’s no
t real.

  Even if it’s only for one night.

  Chapter Two

  Andrew

  Fuck.

  O

  livia’s the kind of girl that’s too innocent for me. I knew it the moment I walked in the office. I thought that her working for me wasn’t a good idea, until she told me that she’s leaving. I’ll miss seeing her tight ass in that black pencil skirt she wears every fucking day. I think that she’s struggling financially. She doesn’t go to lunch with the girls, and I’ve seen her more than once sitting at her desk eating the same tired sandwich.

  “So, do you think that you’ve seen anything you like?”

  She sighs. “They’re all so beautiful. I don’t know which one to pick. I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”

  I’m at a store that I’ve visited a couple of times with one of the girls that I date. Or rather, one of the girls that I fuck once in awhile and take to events. Not many; after all, I don’t want them to get the wrong idea. Especially after I dated Roberta, I’ve been careful about the way I treat women. But knowing I’m not going to see Olivia after tonight means it’s a risk worth taking.

  “You shouldn’t compare this situation to Pretty Woman. Number one, you’re not a prostitute, and I’m not the kind of guy that picks up prostitutes. We’re just buying a dress for you to come to the party with me.”

  She nods her head. “Sorry.”

  I shake my head thinking maybe I was too harsh. “Not a problem. Just find a dress.”

  I feel like a fucking sugar daddy walking with her. I’m trying to keep my distance, but still stay close, making sure none of the employees treat her like she’s a thief or anything. I know what they’re fucking like. I’ve been here a couple of times, but not enough to be considered a regular.

  I sigh as I see her walking up and down the aisle like fucking Alice in Wonderland. She keeps picking up the dresses and then puts them down again.

  What the fuck?

  “Olivia, why don’t you just pick something and try it on?”

  “Are we late?”

  “No, it’s not about that. It’s about the fact that we’re looking to spend the night here at this rate. We’ve been here for thirty minutes.” Okay, so I’m timing her, but that’s beside the point. “And you keep picking things up and putting them down. It’s a designer store; there’s no way they have nothing that you like. Then again, maybe they don’t, and we should just go elsewhere.”

  “Errh,” she says as she grabs my arm, her soft fingers on my shirt making my cock go hard. She’s too fucking innocent; maybe it wasn’t a good idea inviting her out tonight. I feel like I’m going to take advantage of her just because I know that it’ll be so easy to do.

  “It’s just that the prices are so high. I just feel bad making you buy something that I’m only going to wear for one night,” she whispers, and her bright blue eyes look so damn genuine.

  Shit, she’s past innocent. What is she, a fucking nun?

  Most girls would fucking jump at the chance of just picking out a dress, and they wouldn’t even look at the price tag because they’re not paying. She’s too fucking sweet. Sensitive. Fucking sexy like this.

  What the fuck is wrong with her?

  “I’m paying. Not you. I’ll be the judge if it’s too expensive.”

  Shit, I’m not used to women like her. The innocent ones. The type that could break down in tears if I keep talking to her like this. I need to fucking calm down and stop.

  “Fine. I liked the red one. The one I first picked up. I’ll try that on.”

  Wow, I thought that she would break, but it just encouraged her to buy a dress. Maybe I was wrong about her after all.

  “And what about this black number?”

  “Oh no, I can’t wear a bra with that one, and I need to.”

  Fuck my cock just went hard at her confession. She must have noticed because she’s gone bright red.

  One of the sales assistants pops out of nowhere and says, “Good evening. My name’s Harper. This is our latest Halston Heritage collection which I put on display about an hour ago, so no one has this yet,” she whispers as if it’s a big secret. “Sure, it has no back, but the front has support. Here, feel.”

  Like a child, Olivia follows her instructions and then nods in agreement.

  “Also, with the bow at the back, I’m sure that your boyfriend’s going to love you in it.” Harper giggles as she looks at me. “Trust me, with your curves, it’ll look beautiful. Trust me,” she smiles as she says the last line.

  I’m speechless because I never saw the back of the dress; it’s lace and leaves nothing to the imagination.

  Fuck.

  She’ll be the talk of the night in that hot number. I’m surprised that Olivia agrees to try it on as she follows the assistant to the changing rooms.

  “Don’t worry; we won’t be long,” Harper calls out to me, but by that time Olivia’s following her practically skipping to the changing room.

  I decide to sit in one of the leather chairs. There’s a guy sitting next to me, playing on his phone. He’s trying to look professional, but it’s clear that he’s playing a game as I hear it chime. I don’t play games; I have a business to run. I check my emails and wait patiently. I should have gone home to change or grab one of the spare shirts I keep in the office. But I couldn’t be bothered to try and look nice. I just want Roberta off my back, but with the way Olivia’s going to be looking tonight I’m not sure I’ll be able to stay at the party that late.

  Fuck.

  I’m not even sure that I want to go anymore. I want to take her home and pop her fucking cherry. I bet she’s a virgin because she’s too innocent to be anything else and seeing as she’s no longer working for me, I think that’s exactly what I’ll do.

  I wasn’t timing her, but finally, Olivia comes out of the changing room, and she looks like a fucking million dollars. Her hair is tied up in a loose bun with a few loose strands. She has on fresh make-up including a bright red lipstick which emphasizes her pale complexion. She has on new shoes and even the walk that she’s walking towards me is different — it’s as if she’s come out with a new attitude. Her body was made for that dress; even the guy sitting next to me is paying attention to her. Shit, everyone in the damn store is.

  I nearly drop my phone as I say, “No matter how much it costs, this dress is worth every penny. You look like a million dollars.”

  A big smile appears on her face as she says, “I feel like one.”

  I stand up and hold out my arm. I want her by my side. The way she’s looking is driving me insane, and I want everyone to know that she’s mine.

  Fuck.

  She’s mine.

  Chapter Three

  Olivia

  H

  is eyes dart to my legs from time to time. I know he approves of my dress. I must admit that when I put it on the dress, I felt sexy. Not cheap like I thought I would feel. He has no idea how grateful I am about this dress. When I saw the register ring up five hundred dollars and he flashed his black American Express card, he was right. I didn’t feel like Julia Roberts. I just felt like a million dollars even though the dress didn’t cost that much.

  “I want to thank you, Mr. White, for the dress,” I repeat as we sit at the back of the limo.

  “You look beautiful. And you’re welcome. Just one thing, though.”

  “Sure, what’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” I frown as I start to feel paranoid.

  He laughs. “No, it’s just that we’re not in the office anymore. Please, call me Andrew.”

  I nod. “Okay, Andrew.”

  He smiles and then he moves his hand from his leg to his side. It’s nearly brushing my leg, and it’s making me grow wet with just the idea of him touching me again. I think that I appeal to him.

  Me.

  The country girl who’s never been with a man. I don’t know if it’s this dress, but right now I feel different. I don’t feel like a country girl. I feel like one
of the women that he would date. One that he would be proud to have by his side.

  “Tell me about yourself, Olivia. You’ve been working for me for two weeks, and I know nothing about you.”

  “Well, you were out of the office for the first week.”

  He sighs. “Yeah, the Japanese deal that went horribly wrong. Hmm, don’t remind me of that. It was one of the worst experiences that I’ve ever had.”

  “Oh?”

  He shakes his head, “Let’s not talk shop. Not tonight. So, how come you don’t have a boyfriend?”

  Wow, that was direct!

  I’m looking at his dark eyes trying to figure out if he’s toying with me, but it’s indifferent. He has a way of putting up a front. One that’s so damn hard to read.

  “I just don’t.”

  “Wow, a knock-out like you?”

  I giggle. “I’m not a knock-out. Only in this dress.”

  He shakes his head. “If you didn’t have the tools, kitten, then you wouldn’t be able to work it.” His hand is cupping my face as if he has something more to say, but then he drops his hand and then turns to face the front.

  Put it back!

  I want to scream at him. I cross my legs, knowing that I’ll get his attention.

  “There must be a reason that you don’t have a boyfriend.”

  Wow, he’s pushing the subject. I feel a tiny tingle race across my skin as I wonder if he’s asking because he wants to be my boyfriend. I shake my head at the idea of it.

  “I just haven’t met the right man yet.”

  “Ah, so you’re a fussy kind?”

  He raises an eyebrow, and some part of me likes this game. I should tell him that it’s none of his business, but he just paid for my dress, and this is the most interaction I’ve had with him, and it’s my last day.

  I won’t see him again.

  Part of me is sad about the whole idea of not seeing him again.

  “Do you ask all your secretaries the same question?” I throw back at him.

  He laughs. “Have you seen Joanne? She’s old enough to be my mother.”

  “I thought that men like older women?”