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Paid For(4)

By:Alexa Riley



For a split second, I allow my thoughts to drift to having my cock wrapped up in a warm, wet cunt. I feel stirrings between my legs, and then dismiss the idea. No one has caught my eye in years, and the idea is worse than terrible. You can’t work with someone you fuck, even if you pay them for both. Right?





Chapter Three





Kennedy




“Are you going to stand there, or are you going to come in?” the man on the other side of the room bellows at me.

I pause in the doorway to his office, making a fool of myself. I don’t know why I thought I could do this. I take a tentative step forward, then another, until I’m standing in front of his large glass desk. He makes no motion to get up. I lean halfway across his desk to shake his hand. I’m totally unsure if that’s what I’m supposed to do.

I’ve never had a professional interview before, and I don’t know the rules or etiquette for something like this. His hand comes to mine, the warmth of his fingers wrapping around mine as he engulfs it. I try to give a firm shake back, like my grandfather taught me, but I freeze. I’m locked in some sort of trance as he holds my hand tightly, his dark blue eyes finally meeting mine.

My mouth opens slightly as I scramble for something to say, but he speaks first.

“How old are you?” His eyes narrow as he looks at my mouth.

I try to yank my hand back, but he doesn't let go.

“Twenty…twenty-two.” I stumble over my words but manage to get the lie past my lips. He keeps looking at me with those deep blue eyes, and I have to avert my gaze and hope he believes me.

“Liar,” he finally says as the grip on my hand tightens even more. “Are you old enough to even be fucked?”

I gasp at his crude words, but I know what he’s asking. Am I a legal adult? I nod, my hair falling forward and shielding a little bit of my face. I leave it there, hoping it’ll hide my shock.

“Say it, Kennedy.”

“Yes, I’m old enough.” His finger strokes my wrist.

“All of it.”

I look back at his face. It’s intense, and I’m wondering if all the anger is because I lied…or if it stems from something else.

“I’m old enough to be fucked,” I whisper, feeling my face flame.

He lets go of my wrist, and I stumble away from him. The chair behind me catches me and keeps me from falling. I land in it, sitting down harder than I mean to.

Mr. Foster stands, coming around his desk like an animal stalking his prey. He stops when he gets to the other side and leans against the glass, staring down at me. I sit up straighter and try to right my skirt that bunched up a little in my fall.

I can’t believe I said that, and I also can’t believe how handsome this man is. His midnight-black hair looks like he’s been running his fingers through it. It’s a little long on the top, like he needs a trim. As if he’s too busy to have it done.

His button-up shirt is unbuttoned a little, no trace of a tie anywhere. His slacks mold to his legs perfectly, and I know this is a custom suit from the way it lies against him. I’m so in over my head, but I’ve already come this far. Already got caught in a lie. What do I really have to lose at this point?

I need to not squirm under his gaze or shy away. I have to make it seem like I belong here, too, no matter how untrue that might be. I sit up a little straighter and see his eyes are on my legs.

“You’ve already lied to me, Miss Myers. Why shouldn’t I tell you to get the hell out of my office right this second?” he asks, still looking down at me.

His body is tense, but leaning against the desk, he seems almost casual. I can’t get a read on him at all because I’m wondering the same thing he is. Why hasn’t he thrown me out of his office already?

“That’s how bad I want this job. I’ll do anything,” I admit. “I know I don’t have a lot of experience, but I’m a fast learner and I’ll show you I can do this. Just give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking.”

“I’ve gone through a lot of assistants and it’s wearing me thin. I don’t want to do this again in a few weeks’ time. I need to know you can handle my demands, that you won’t go running.”

“I can, I promise,” I plead, a spark of hoping lighting inside me. This job could solve so many problems for me right now.

He pushes off his desk and takes a step towards me, until he’s inches from me, leaning forward. His hands go to the armrests of my chair, and suddenly I feel caged in.

“You’ll handle everything I need,” he challenges as he moves further into my space. His intensity hits me hard. His warm scent fills my lungs. I didn't know a smell could be so sexy. I look up at him through my eyelashes. “My schedules, taking notes, being where I need you to be at a moment's notice.” He pauses for a moment, standing but a breath away from me. He inhales, like he’s breathing me in. “And other needs as well. The needs a man like me will have with a little thing like you running around this office all day.”

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