The Interview
*ADULTS ONLY*
“Why are you so desperate for this job?”
“I need the money,” she said honestly. “And more than that, I need to find a place where I can put in the effort and see something from it. A place where I can fit in.”
“There is a reason we don’t advertise, Miss Wilson. This job isn’t…typical. Tell me, honestly, do you like sex?”
She gaped at him, but he simply watched her. Shaking herself mentally, she forced herself to get a grip. This was a test, and she wouldn’t allow herself to fail it. “I like sex.”
He arched a brow at her.
Honesty. He was looking for honesty, she reminded herself. “I’ve had two boyfriends. One in high school, and one in college that I split up with recently. They were both my age. And the sex was…fine.”
“Just fine?”
“It was fun. Ish. Fun-ish. But, you know, nothing like you’d read in a book or see in a movie. Nothing earth-shattering.” She wasn’t even totally sure the mind-blowing sex she’d seen in fiction was actually possible.
“Thank you for your honesty.” He leaned forward. “How would you like to experience earth-shattering?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m risking a lot telling you about this, Miss Wilson. I’m counting on that ironclad discretion you showed me earlier. This job isn’t simply for an assistant—although most of your working hours will call for office tasks, the type you can use on a résumé later. This job also requires for you to make yourself available. Sexually.”
Mouth suddenly dry, she had to swallow hard before she could speak. “To you?” That idea didn’t sound half bad, actually. She was attracted to Mr. Lawrence, achingly so. He wasn’t just good looking and older, he had the aura of a man who was devastating in bed. Take charge. She’d never really experienced that kind of man, and the idea of it was…interesting.
“If you make it through your trial period, then yes. But not just me. You’ll be available to other employees. Clients.” His hard blue eyes narrowed. “You’ll spread your legs, open your mouth, for anyone I tell you to.”
She gasped, trying to ignore the sudden heat and wetness between her thighs at the thought of being sexually available at this sexy, strong man’s whim. “What are you? A pimp?”
“No. But I ensure that everyone in my company—and serviced by my company—is satisfied. That would include you.” He pushed up and walked around the desk, then knelt next to her chair and then swiveled it so she was facing him. The man was huge and she was petite, so it put them at eye level. “You’re innocent, Miss Wilson. Not my usual employee. But there’s something about you. About the way you blush.”
Half her mind told her to run. Was screaming this was a terrible idea. Wrong. Immoral. And downright dangerous.
But the other half wanted to see exactly what kind of satisfaction this man could offer her.
