Starting from:
$1
Shattered Lives_By T.M. Pigatt
"Yes, I am a man known for fucking. I love women, all different types. I love the way it feels when I’m pounding into them. I love hearing them scream my name but most of all I love when they go home.”
Is how CEO of Maxwell Publishing, Charles Maxwell, thinks. He’s never had a woman turn him down. That’s until he meets Samantha Clarkson.
Samantha Clarkson is a woman who's running from her past. She keeps running until she runs right into Charles Maxwell. She does everything she can to stick to the first lesson she learned; men can't be trusted. Unfortunately, Charles isn't your normal man.
TAKE A PEEK INSIDE
Chapter One
Samantha
No! No! Please don’t hurt me are the words I hear floating through the air. I didn’t realize that those words had fallen from my lips. I stare into a pair of steel blue eyes that hold so much hate. I wonder why this is happening to me, but there’s no time to answer that question, there’s only time to ask how will I survive.
A slap comes across my face. The impact causes my head to whip to the side. Please God help me is all I can think to myself. I’m trapped. He has me against the wall by my throat. With each slap, his grip becomes tighter and tighter. Soon there will be no room for air to flow through.
“Please stop hurting me.” Is all I can say but it comes out as a whimper. My plea only makes him smile. He likes the fact that I’m at his mercy. I try to hold back the tears. I want to be strong, but the tears begin to stream down my face. Once again, his hands connect with my face, but this time it’s his fist that lands on my right eye.
I wake up like I always do, gasping for air. I place my hand over my eye, trying to prove to myself that it was just a nightmare. I run to the bathroom to check my face. There isn’t a mark there. The nightmare seemed so real. Thank God it was only a dream.
**
The sun shines through my window to signal the start of a new day. I turn my head towards the nightstand to look at my clock. The clock signals that I have two minutes before my alarm is set to ring. I pick up my phone to disarm the alarm and swing my legs over the side of the bed and reach my hands above my head to stretch.
I walk down the hall to my kitchen and check to see if the coffee pot has started to brew. My morning can’t start until I have my coffee intake. I return to my bedroom and walk over to my little chair in the corner and remove my dress suit for the day. I lay it on the bed with my bra, panties, thigh highs, and shoes. I like to have everything together before I take a shower.
I stand under the warm water in the shower and let the water run over me. It helps me to feel as if the water is washing away all the bad and is leaving a blank canvas for something new. I make quick work with my lavender wash for my hair and my body.
Now I feel refresh and ready for a new day. I wrap my hair and body in towels, make my way back to the kitchen for my morning fuel. With coffee in hand it’s time to make myself ready for the day.
It takes about thirty minutes to dress, due to my hair and makeup. I walk over to my briefcase and check to make sure that I have transferred all my important stuff into it. I pick it up to walk towards the front door grabbing my keys off the kitchen counter as I go.
I walk next store to my neighbor’s Jackie’s door. Jackie and I have been friends since college. When I decided to move to New York, Jackie came with me. I don’t know what I would do without her. She’s the only one I can truly talk to because she is the only person who really knows me.
I knock on her door waiting for her to answer.
The door opens. ‘Why didn’t you use your key?”
“Why would I use my key? What if I walked in here unannounced and you had some guy in here?” I reply walking into her apartment.
“You think I care about some guy being here when it comes to you?’ She says as she closes the door.
‘Still, I don’t want to be walking in on some guy rocking your world.”
“Honey, they don’t rock my world. I rock theirs.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. I love how confident Jackie is and with good reason. She’s 5’8, small waist, large boobs, curly long black hair with hazel eyes, and legs that go on for days. I’m not into girls, but if I were, I would go after Jackie.
I sit on the sofa as Jackie puts on her finishing touches of her outfit. “Today is the big interview,” I say.
Jackie returns to the living room with both of her hands on her ear trying to fix her ear ring. She stops in front of me. “Stand up so I can take a good look at you.”
I stand wiping my hand down my skirt to make sure it’s in place. Jackie looks at me without saying a word.
“What’s the matter?’
“I don’t understand you. You have an amazing body and the money to buy whatever you want, yet you dress as if you shop at Goodwill.”
“First, there is nothing wrong with Goodwill and what’s wrong with my outfit?” Her reaction makes me look down at my clothes. I am wearing a dark blue skirt and jacket with a white blouse to match.
“There’s nothing wrong with your clothes per say. It’s just that yes, they fit you well and they show off a little of your body but not enough. You look like you’re afraid to show people what you have. Plus, the clothes look cheap, and you are better than that.”
“I don’t need or want to draw attention to myself, so I don’t need any clothes to show off any part of my body. Not everyone is blessed with a body like yours, and as far as my clothes, I don’t think they look cheap. What’s wrong with getting my clothes from Target or Walmart for that matter?’
Jackie places her hands on each side of my shoulders to hold me still, facing her. “Look baby doll, all I’m saying is that you’re beautiful. You must start believing that and leave all that other shit in the past. As far as your clothes you are going to be the personal assistant to one of the richest men in the world, you should dress as so.”
I tug Jackie’s hands off me as I blow out an air of frustration. I’m not mad at her because I know she means well but it doesn’t stop me from getting upset when she mentions the past.
“First, Jackie we have no idea if I’m getting the job or not so I see no reason to change my clothes or anything else for a job that isn’t mine.” I’m hoping that my word penetrates so she can understand my reasoning.
“You’ll get it.”
“I’m happy you have faith in me but let’s remember I have been on countless interviews since we got here. While you, on the other hand, landed your job on your first interview. Anyways I have to get going.” Sometimes I love Jackie so much, and other times I can’t wait to get away from her. I know she never means to hurt me, but she does step over the line. She says it’s for my own good. I say it’s bullshit.
As I arrive at the underground parking garage, I park my car and step out in the crowd, becoming another nameless face in a world of people who are wrapped up in their lives. My journey takes me three blocks from the parking garage. I stand in front of what I hope is to become my new beginning. It is tall building with the name Maxwell spelled across it in big bold letters.
Standing in front of the building I realize that I feel a little jittery. The truth is, if I'm honest, I’m a little more than a little jittery. I take a calming breath and lift my head to the clear blue sky and allow the sun to beam down on me as if it’s from, the Gods above.
I run my hands down my skirt to make sure that everything is in place. I can do this, is what I keep telling myself. My pep talk calms my nerves, so I make my way through the crowd of people and into the revolving doors.
The door leads me to a spacious, sleek modern looking lobby. It’s dressed in black and white furniture. In front of me is a line of people waiting their turn to speak to the receptionist. While I wait in the back of the line, I look around until the large flat screen television that is sitting behind the receptionist’s desk catches my eye. The screen is showing the different magazines and books that are under the Maxwell Publishing brand. I’m so enthralled with the screen that I miss how fast the line is moving until I am standing in front of a woman wearing a sleek business suit with wire framed glasses and her hair in a perfect bun I have ever seen.
“How may I help you?’ she asks.
“Umm… yes, I’m here for the assistant job interview for Mr. Maxwell.”
“May I have your I.D.?”
I place my briefcase on her desk as I retrieve my I.D. Most women would have their purse on them but not me. I can only carry one thing at a time. If I carried a purse along with my briefcase, I have no doubt that I would leave my purse behind somewhere. The receptionist takes my driver’s license and scans it. My picture pops up on her computer screen. Then her printer prints out a pass for me to wear.
“This is a temporary pass, that’s why it’s red. Before you leave today, you must return the pass back to me. Do you know where you’re going?”
“I have no idea.”
“Okay then.” She says as she stands up and points to the side. “You go through the metal detectors over there. Once you get through those, you go straight to the elevators. They will take you to the thirty-fourth floor. That’s where the interviews are conducted.”
I leave the desk and make my way to the metal detectors. Two guards are standing there. I can’t understand why a place like Maxwell Publishing would need metal detectors, but I guess after all the terrorist attacks you can never be too safe. Before going through the metal detectors, I place my briefcase on the table in front of one of the guards. I walk through the detector while he checks the contents of my briefcase. The metal detector makes a loud noise, and the guard nods for me to walk through once more. I try it again with the same results.
“Do you have any change or jewelry on that I can’t see?” the guard ask.
I turn to show him that I have no pockets or jewelry to speak of. He takes a hand-held metal detector and runs it over my body. I can hear people behind me mumbling and blowing out air loudly to show their frustration. The wand is over my chest and begins to go off.
“Do you have a necklace or something on?” the guards ask.
That’s when it hits me. I reach under the collar of my shirt and pull out my small gold chain that says “Love.” I am so embarrassed. As I gather my things, I turn to the people behind me and mouth “I am sorry.” I walk towards the elevators, noticing there was an elevator already open, but it looks as if it’s about to close. “Please hold the elevator,” I yell.
I run to the elevator and arrive just in time to see a hand jump out and stop the doors from closing. The doors open once more, and my breath catches in my throat. Standing in front of me is a 6’2 white skinned, broad shouldered God. He has black wavy hair that makes you want to run your hand through it. His thousand-dollar suit does nothing to hide his muscular build. His clear green eyes stare at me, making it hard to breathe.
“Are you coming in or would you like to stand there and stare all day.”
I hadn’t noticed that I didn’t bother to step into the elevator that he was holding open for me. I step in next to him while letting my eyes fall to the floor hoping that would keep me from looking at him.
“What floor would you like me to push?’
I look at the buttons on the elevator wall and notice that the thirty-fourth floor was already pushed. “My floor has already been pushed. Thank you.” I take a chance on sneaking a glance at him. When I left my eyes from the floor, I am met with his beautiful green eyes. I know you’re not supposed to use the word beautiful when describing a man but no other adjective comes to mind. We stare at one another until we hear the car come to a stop and ding.
People climb out of the car. I look up to see that the thirty-three button is lit. Most of the people that were in the car left except me, the God, and three other people. I move to the back of the car, so I can stare at him while he stays at the front looking ahead.
The car dings again and comes to another stop but this time it’s on my floor. I watch as everyone including my handsome stranger climbs out. I walk out heading straight ahead until I am met with a set of glass doors that have “Executive Floor” written on them. I have no idea where I’m going, so I walk through the door where a sandy brown haired young guy is sitting at the desk. “Excuse me. I’m not sure where to go.”
The man rolls his eyes as if I asked him to give me a kidney. I could let that piss me off, but I don’t want anything to mess up my chances of getting this job.
“Well, I can see from your badge that you’re on the right floor. Are you her for the P.A. job?”
“Yes, I am,” I respond.
“Well then, walk back out the doors you came in take a right down the hall you will see the waiting room on the right with a bunch of other women waiting to be seen,” He states then turn his back on me.
I would have said thank you if he didn’t act like an ass, but I did what I was told and found the waiting area with about forty or more women waiting, all dressed in designer suits. Now I feel even more self-conscious. I take a seat far away from everyone and wait for my name to be called.
Charles
“Hello Stella,” I say as I walk into my office.
“Hello, Charles. I hate to tell you this, but the waiting room is packed.” She says as she follows me into my office.
As I enter my office, I place my coat on the coat rack that sits in the corner and my briefcase on my desk.
“I hate days like this,” I tell Stella as I take my seat behind my desk.
Stella takes the seat in front of my desk. “I know you do, but you and I both know that you have to be the one that does the interviews because you have to be able to get along with your personal assistant and that’s not easy for you.”
I lean back in my chair and let out a sigh. Stella is right. I must conduct the interviews myself. We must work well together because we will work together a lot, plus I need someone who is going to make my life easier, not harder. I have enough shit to deal with.
“Okay so here’s what going to happen,” I tell Stella. I grab a large pile of papers on my desk and move them towards Stella. “I want you to get rid of the people in this pile who for one reason or another their applicants or background check did not pass the mustard. I will not work with them. You can send them home.” Then I move a smaller pile of papers towards her. “These are the list of people I will see.”
Stella stands up. ‘Alright then. I will take the pile of names that you don’t want to work with to the waiting room and call their names so they can leave. Then I will come back to the other pile, and we can start the interview process.”
“That’s fine.”
Stella leaves the room, and I sit in my chair staring out of a large picture glass window trying to prepare myself, but as I sit here, images of the beautiful caramel skinned woman from the elevator seem to invade my thoughts. She was standing there looking at me with her crystal blue eyes, hour glass figure, and her chestnut brown hair wrapped up in a messy bun. I tried not to stare, but I couldn’t help it. I was surprised when our eyes met, and she didn’t look away. I noticed she would sneak a peek at me occasionally. I wonder if she’s here to interview for me or for some other executive. I am not the only one hiring today. A knock on my door brings me back to reality. “Come in.”
“Are you ready? I have sent the ones you didn’t want home already.” Stella says.
I move my chair to push my legs under my desk. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”
“You want anything first?”
“No Stella, I’m fine. Thank you.”
Stella leaves to get the first applicant. Thank goodness for her. She has known me since I was a child. That’s how long she’s worked here. I was happy ten years ago when she said she would stay on after my father decided that he wanted to run the other side of the business we dealt with and gave me the CEO job of Maxwell Publishing.
Stella has been like another mother to me, ever since my own mother passed away. I like having someone I can trust. Someone who will call me on my shit when I need it. Stella is one of the few employees I can trust that stayed on after my father left. The other ones seem to be mad because they still look at me as a boy and not a man. Most believe that I got this job because I was Stan Maxwell’s son. Never mind the fact that I went to business school and worked in every department of this company, even the mail room. My birth right might have got me in the door, but my talent and smarts landed me as CEO. The door opens, and the first applicant comes in. A tall blonde walk through the door and takes her seat in front of my desk. I walk around the desk to sit on the edge of it to greet her.
“Hello, Mrs.?” I say as I extend my hand to hers.
She takes my hand into a handshake, “It’s Miss. Walker. It’s nice to meet you Mister Maxwell.
I try to pull my hand away but Miss. Walker holds on to it a little longer than needed.
I’m finally able to take my hand back and sit back on the edge of my table once again. “So, what makes you want to work for me, Miss. Walker?”
She bends down a little further than she needs to, pretending to place her briefcase on the floor. When she bends down, she makes sure that I can see down her shirt. I guess that’s why the top four buttons are undone.
“I want to work here because I have a love of reading and I’ve heard you are a great man to work for.” She states as she maneuvers in her seat so that her skirt rises a little higher.
I push myself off the edge of my desk and walk around the back of it to sit in my chair. I’m not sure what Miss Walker is thinking, but I have a feeling it’s not going to work out the way she thinks.
I don’t say anything when I take my seat. I just sit there and wait to see what she does next. Just as I suspect she places one leg over the other, while turning in her seat so that her skirt moves up again and I can see further up her leg.
“Miss. Walker we have been in this interview for less than twenty minutes, and within that time you have been acting inappropriately, which makes you unsuited for this job.”
A surprised look crosses her face. She pulls her skirt down and buttons her top two buttons of her shirt.
“I’m sorry sir if I gave you the wrong impression. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Listen I know what people say about me but here’s the thing. I don’t sleep with employees, and you should think better of yourself than to try and use your looks to get a job. If I were you, I would chalk this up to a learning experience. Now I wish you well, and you can go now.”
She stands and opens her mouth as if she would like to say something, but I shoot her a look that conveys that it’s useless. She turns and walks out the door.
There were fifteen more applicants that came in. Some were smart enough not to use their looks to get the job but others no so much. It seems like it was the same thing repeatedly. They bend down so I can see their cleavage or move so their skirt or dress would ride up. Yes, I am a man known for fucking. Most men in my position are. I love women, all different types. I love the way it feels when I’m pounding into them. I love hearing them scream my name, but most of all, I love when they go home. That’s right. Once I cum I want them gone. I make sure that they at least have two or more orgasms but after that, my job is done, and we can part ways remembering the good fuck we had.
Stella pops her head in. "We have one more to go."
"Good. Go ahead and send her in.”
Stella leaves, and two minutes later there is a knock on the door.
***END OF SAMPLE***
Enjoyed the preview? Buy. Download. Enjoy for just $1.00!!
Is how CEO of Maxwell Publishing, Charles Maxwell, thinks. He’s never had a woman turn him down. That’s until he meets Samantha Clarkson.
Samantha Clarkson is a woman who's running from her past. She keeps running until she runs right into Charles Maxwell. She does everything she can to stick to the first lesson she learned; men can't be trusted. Unfortunately, Charles isn't your normal man.
TAKE A PEEK INSIDE
Chapter One
Samantha
No! No! Please don’t hurt me are the words I hear floating through the air. I didn’t realize that those words had fallen from my lips. I stare into a pair of steel blue eyes that hold so much hate. I wonder why this is happening to me, but there’s no time to answer that question, there’s only time to ask how will I survive.
A slap comes across my face. The impact causes my head to whip to the side. Please God help me is all I can think to myself. I’m trapped. He has me against the wall by my throat. With each slap, his grip becomes tighter and tighter. Soon there will be no room for air to flow through.
“Please stop hurting me.” Is all I can say but it comes out as a whimper. My plea only makes him smile. He likes the fact that I’m at his mercy. I try to hold back the tears. I want to be strong, but the tears begin to stream down my face. Once again, his hands connect with my face, but this time it’s his fist that lands on my right eye.
I wake up like I always do, gasping for air. I place my hand over my eye, trying to prove to myself that it was just a nightmare. I run to the bathroom to check my face. There isn’t a mark there. The nightmare seemed so real. Thank God it was only a dream.
**
The sun shines through my window to signal the start of a new day. I turn my head towards the nightstand to look at my clock. The clock signals that I have two minutes before my alarm is set to ring. I pick up my phone to disarm the alarm and swing my legs over the side of the bed and reach my hands above my head to stretch.
I walk down the hall to my kitchen and check to see if the coffee pot has started to brew. My morning can’t start until I have my coffee intake. I return to my bedroom and walk over to my little chair in the corner and remove my dress suit for the day. I lay it on the bed with my bra, panties, thigh highs, and shoes. I like to have everything together before I take a shower.
I stand under the warm water in the shower and let the water run over me. It helps me to feel as if the water is washing away all the bad and is leaving a blank canvas for something new. I make quick work with my lavender wash for my hair and my body.
Now I feel refresh and ready for a new day. I wrap my hair and body in towels, make my way back to the kitchen for my morning fuel. With coffee in hand it’s time to make myself ready for the day.
It takes about thirty minutes to dress, due to my hair and makeup. I walk over to my briefcase and check to make sure that I have transferred all my important stuff into it. I pick it up to walk towards the front door grabbing my keys off the kitchen counter as I go.
I walk next store to my neighbor’s Jackie’s door. Jackie and I have been friends since college. When I decided to move to New York, Jackie came with me. I don’t know what I would do without her. She’s the only one I can truly talk to because she is the only person who really knows me.
I knock on her door waiting for her to answer.
The door opens. ‘Why didn’t you use your key?”
“Why would I use my key? What if I walked in here unannounced and you had some guy in here?” I reply walking into her apartment.
“You think I care about some guy being here when it comes to you?’ She says as she closes the door.
‘Still, I don’t want to be walking in on some guy rocking your world.”
“Honey, they don’t rock my world. I rock theirs.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. I love how confident Jackie is and with good reason. She’s 5’8, small waist, large boobs, curly long black hair with hazel eyes, and legs that go on for days. I’m not into girls, but if I were, I would go after Jackie.
I sit on the sofa as Jackie puts on her finishing touches of her outfit. “Today is the big interview,” I say.
Jackie returns to the living room with both of her hands on her ear trying to fix her ear ring. She stops in front of me. “Stand up so I can take a good look at you.”
I stand wiping my hand down my skirt to make sure it’s in place. Jackie looks at me without saying a word.
“What’s the matter?’
“I don’t understand you. You have an amazing body and the money to buy whatever you want, yet you dress as if you shop at Goodwill.”
“First, there is nothing wrong with Goodwill and what’s wrong with my outfit?” Her reaction makes me look down at my clothes. I am wearing a dark blue skirt and jacket with a white blouse to match.
“There’s nothing wrong with your clothes per say. It’s just that yes, they fit you well and they show off a little of your body but not enough. You look like you’re afraid to show people what you have. Plus, the clothes look cheap, and you are better than that.”
“I don’t need or want to draw attention to myself, so I don’t need any clothes to show off any part of my body. Not everyone is blessed with a body like yours, and as far as my clothes, I don’t think they look cheap. What’s wrong with getting my clothes from Target or Walmart for that matter?’
Jackie places her hands on each side of my shoulders to hold me still, facing her. “Look baby doll, all I’m saying is that you’re beautiful. You must start believing that and leave all that other shit in the past. As far as your clothes you are going to be the personal assistant to one of the richest men in the world, you should dress as so.”
I tug Jackie’s hands off me as I blow out an air of frustration. I’m not mad at her because I know she means well but it doesn’t stop me from getting upset when she mentions the past.
“First, Jackie we have no idea if I’m getting the job or not so I see no reason to change my clothes or anything else for a job that isn’t mine.” I’m hoping that my word penetrates so she can understand my reasoning.
“You’ll get it.”
“I’m happy you have faith in me but let’s remember I have been on countless interviews since we got here. While you, on the other hand, landed your job on your first interview. Anyways I have to get going.” Sometimes I love Jackie so much, and other times I can’t wait to get away from her. I know she never means to hurt me, but she does step over the line. She says it’s for my own good. I say it’s bullshit.
As I arrive at the underground parking garage, I park my car and step out in the crowd, becoming another nameless face in a world of people who are wrapped up in their lives. My journey takes me three blocks from the parking garage. I stand in front of what I hope is to become my new beginning. It is tall building with the name Maxwell spelled across it in big bold letters.
Standing in front of the building I realize that I feel a little jittery. The truth is, if I'm honest, I’m a little more than a little jittery. I take a calming breath and lift my head to the clear blue sky and allow the sun to beam down on me as if it’s from, the Gods above.
I run my hands down my skirt to make sure that everything is in place. I can do this, is what I keep telling myself. My pep talk calms my nerves, so I make my way through the crowd of people and into the revolving doors.
The door leads me to a spacious, sleek modern looking lobby. It’s dressed in black and white furniture. In front of me is a line of people waiting their turn to speak to the receptionist. While I wait in the back of the line, I look around until the large flat screen television that is sitting behind the receptionist’s desk catches my eye. The screen is showing the different magazines and books that are under the Maxwell Publishing brand. I’m so enthralled with the screen that I miss how fast the line is moving until I am standing in front of a woman wearing a sleek business suit with wire framed glasses and her hair in a perfect bun I have ever seen.
“How may I help you?’ she asks.
“Umm… yes, I’m here for the assistant job interview for Mr. Maxwell.”
“May I have your I.D.?”
I place my briefcase on her desk as I retrieve my I.D. Most women would have their purse on them but not me. I can only carry one thing at a time. If I carried a purse along with my briefcase, I have no doubt that I would leave my purse behind somewhere. The receptionist takes my driver’s license and scans it. My picture pops up on her computer screen. Then her printer prints out a pass for me to wear.
“This is a temporary pass, that’s why it’s red. Before you leave today, you must return the pass back to me. Do you know where you’re going?”
“I have no idea.”
“Okay then.” She says as she stands up and points to the side. “You go through the metal detectors over there. Once you get through those, you go straight to the elevators. They will take you to the thirty-fourth floor. That’s where the interviews are conducted.”
I leave the desk and make my way to the metal detectors. Two guards are standing there. I can’t understand why a place like Maxwell Publishing would need metal detectors, but I guess after all the terrorist attacks you can never be too safe. Before going through the metal detectors, I place my briefcase on the table in front of one of the guards. I walk through the detector while he checks the contents of my briefcase. The metal detector makes a loud noise, and the guard nods for me to walk through once more. I try it again with the same results.
“Do you have any change or jewelry on that I can’t see?” the guard ask.
I turn to show him that I have no pockets or jewelry to speak of. He takes a hand-held metal detector and runs it over my body. I can hear people behind me mumbling and blowing out air loudly to show their frustration. The wand is over my chest and begins to go off.
“Do you have a necklace or something on?” the guards ask.
That’s when it hits me. I reach under the collar of my shirt and pull out my small gold chain that says “Love.” I am so embarrassed. As I gather my things, I turn to the people behind me and mouth “I am sorry.” I walk towards the elevators, noticing there was an elevator already open, but it looks as if it’s about to close. “Please hold the elevator,” I yell.
I run to the elevator and arrive just in time to see a hand jump out and stop the doors from closing. The doors open once more, and my breath catches in my throat. Standing in front of me is a 6’2 white skinned, broad shouldered God. He has black wavy hair that makes you want to run your hand through it. His thousand-dollar suit does nothing to hide his muscular build. His clear green eyes stare at me, making it hard to breathe.
“Are you coming in or would you like to stand there and stare all day.”
I hadn’t noticed that I didn’t bother to step into the elevator that he was holding open for me. I step in next to him while letting my eyes fall to the floor hoping that would keep me from looking at him.
“What floor would you like me to push?’
I look at the buttons on the elevator wall and notice that the thirty-fourth floor was already pushed. “My floor has already been pushed. Thank you.” I take a chance on sneaking a glance at him. When I left my eyes from the floor, I am met with his beautiful green eyes. I know you’re not supposed to use the word beautiful when describing a man but no other adjective comes to mind. We stare at one another until we hear the car come to a stop and ding.
People climb out of the car. I look up to see that the thirty-three button is lit. Most of the people that were in the car left except me, the God, and three other people. I move to the back of the car, so I can stare at him while he stays at the front looking ahead.
The car dings again and comes to another stop but this time it’s on my floor. I watch as everyone including my handsome stranger climbs out. I walk out heading straight ahead until I am met with a set of glass doors that have “Executive Floor” written on them. I have no idea where I’m going, so I walk through the door where a sandy brown haired young guy is sitting at the desk. “Excuse me. I’m not sure where to go.”
The man rolls his eyes as if I asked him to give me a kidney. I could let that piss me off, but I don’t want anything to mess up my chances of getting this job.
“Well, I can see from your badge that you’re on the right floor. Are you her for the P.A. job?”
“Yes, I am,” I respond.
“Well then, walk back out the doors you came in take a right down the hall you will see the waiting room on the right with a bunch of other women waiting to be seen,” He states then turn his back on me.
I would have said thank you if he didn’t act like an ass, but I did what I was told and found the waiting area with about forty or more women waiting, all dressed in designer suits. Now I feel even more self-conscious. I take a seat far away from everyone and wait for my name to be called.
Charles
“Hello Stella,” I say as I walk into my office.
“Hello, Charles. I hate to tell you this, but the waiting room is packed.” She says as she follows me into my office.
As I enter my office, I place my coat on the coat rack that sits in the corner and my briefcase on my desk.
“I hate days like this,” I tell Stella as I take my seat behind my desk.
Stella takes the seat in front of my desk. “I know you do, but you and I both know that you have to be the one that does the interviews because you have to be able to get along with your personal assistant and that’s not easy for you.”
I lean back in my chair and let out a sigh. Stella is right. I must conduct the interviews myself. We must work well together because we will work together a lot, plus I need someone who is going to make my life easier, not harder. I have enough shit to deal with.
“Okay so here’s what going to happen,” I tell Stella. I grab a large pile of papers on my desk and move them towards Stella. “I want you to get rid of the people in this pile who for one reason or another their applicants or background check did not pass the mustard. I will not work with them. You can send them home.” Then I move a smaller pile of papers towards her. “These are the list of people I will see.”
Stella stands up. ‘Alright then. I will take the pile of names that you don’t want to work with to the waiting room and call their names so they can leave. Then I will come back to the other pile, and we can start the interview process.”
“That’s fine.”
Stella leaves the room, and I sit in my chair staring out of a large picture glass window trying to prepare myself, but as I sit here, images of the beautiful caramel skinned woman from the elevator seem to invade my thoughts. She was standing there looking at me with her crystal blue eyes, hour glass figure, and her chestnut brown hair wrapped up in a messy bun. I tried not to stare, but I couldn’t help it. I was surprised when our eyes met, and she didn’t look away. I noticed she would sneak a peek at me occasionally. I wonder if she’s here to interview for me or for some other executive. I am not the only one hiring today. A knock on my door brings me back to reality. “Come in.”
“Are you ready? I have sent the ones you didn’t want home already.” Stella says.
I move my chair to push my legs under my desk. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”
“You want anything first?”
“No Stella, I’m fine. Thank you.”
Stella leaves to get the first applicant. Thank goodness for her. She has known me since I was a child. That’s how long she’s worked here. I was happy ten years ago when she said she would stay on after my father decided that he wanted to run the other side of the business we dealt with and gave me the CEO job of Maxwell Publishing.
Stella has been like another mother to me, ever since my own mother passed away. I like having someone I can trust. Someone who will call me on my shit when I need it. Stella is one of the few employees I can trust that stayed on after my father left. The other ones seem to be mad because they still look at me as a boy and not a man. Most believe that I got this job because I was Stan Maxwell’s son. Never mind the fact that I went to business school and worked in every department of this company, even the mail room. My birth right might have got me in the door, but my talent and smarts landed me as CEO. The door opens, and the first applicant comes in. A tall blonde walk through the door and takes her seat in front of my desk. I walk around the desk to sit on the edge of it to greet her.
“Hello, Mrs.?” I say as I extend my hand to hers.
She takes my hand into a handshake, “It’s Miss. Walker. It’s nice to meet you Mister Maxwell.
I try to pull my hand away but Miss. Walker holds on to it a little longer than needed.
I’m finally able to take my hand back and sit back on the edge of my table once again. “So, what makes you want to work for me, Miss. Walker?”
She bends down a little further than she needs to, pretending to place her briefcase on the floor. When she bends down, she makes sure that I can see down her shirt. I guess that’s why the top four buttons are undone.
“I want to work here because I have a love of reading and I’ve heard you are a great man to work for.” She states as she maneuvers in her seat so that her skirt rises a little higher.
I push myself off the edge of my desk and walk around the back of it to sit in my chair. I’m not sure what Miss Walker is thinking, but I have a feeling it’s not going to work out the way she thinks.
I don’t say anything when I take my seat. I just sit there and wait to see what she does next. Just as I suspect she places one leg over the other, while turning in her seat so that her skirt moves up again and I can see further up her leg.
“Miss. Walker we have been in this interview for less than twenty minutes, and within that time you have been acting inappropriately, which makes you unsuited for this job.”
A surprised look crosses her face. She pulls her skirt down and buttons her top two buttons of her shirt.
“I’m sorry sir if I gave you the wrong impression. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Listen I know what people say about me but here’s the thing. I don’t sleep with employees, and you should think better of yourself than to try and use your looks to get a job. If I were you, I would chalk this up to a learning experience. Now I wish you well, and you can go now.”
She stands and opens her mouth as if she would like to say something, but I shoot her a look that conveys that it’s useless. She turns and walks out the door.
There were fifteen more applicants that came in. Some were smart enough not to use their looks to get the job but others no so much. It seems like it was the same thing repeatedly. They bend down so I can see their cleavage or move so their skirt or dress would ride up. Yes, I am a man known for fucking. Most men in my position are. I love women, all different types. I love the way it feels when I’m pounding into them. I love hearing them scream my name, but most of all, I love when they go home. That’s right. Once I cum I want them gone. I make sure that they at least have two or more orgasms but after that, my job is done, and we can part ways remembering the good fuck we had.
Stella pops her head in. "We have one more to go."
"Good. Go ahead and send her in.”
Stella leaves, and two minutes later there is a knock on the door.
***END OF SAMPLE***
Enjoyed the preview? Buy. Download. Enjoy for just $1.00!!
1 file (1.1MB)