The Boss (Fantasy LLC Book 1)

  The Boss

  Fantasy LLC

  Vanessa Devereaux

  Copyright © 2016 Vanessa Devereaux

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  This is the work of erotica and therefore intended for a mature audience.

  Published by Coldstream Publishing www.coldstreampublishing.us

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Fantasy LLC, an exclusive organization where only a lucky few get to live out their wildest sexual dreams and let their inhibitions run free.

  It’s not for the faint of heart and money or fame can’t buy you a way in.

  An anonymous panel of philanthropists decides who will be the lucky recipient of the month. Application forms and essays are judged on their creativity and how turned on they get by what the applicant wishes for.

  Winners are everyday people, bored housewives, teachers, doctors, virgins, and people just like Jenna Wilson who was lucky enough to be picked as this month’s recipient…

  Chapter One

  I almost don’t see the gold envelope sitting on my mat as I open the door and step inside my apartment.

  My name, Jenna Wilson, is written in black calligraphy on the front of it.

  I pick it up and run my fingers over the fancy lettering wishing my penmanship was as beautiful. This letter hasn’t been mailed because it doesn’t have a stamp or postmark on it. It’s obviously been hand delivered to my door.

  After taking off my coat, I sit and open the envelope by unwinding the red string that is wrapped around a gold button. As I open up the paper, I peek inside and I see the letterhead says Fantasy LLC.

  “Oh my god,” I put my hand to my mouth. I sent in an application not thinking even in my wildest dreams that I’d get picked.

  Congratulations you’re this month’s winner. Your fantasy will begin tomorrow. You don’t need to do anything because everything’s been arranged.

  Enjoy yourself, your friends at Fantasy LLC.

  I pinch myself wondering if I’m dreaming or not. I thought that maybe you really had to be someone rich and famous but it’s obviously true that they do pick ordinary people. Folks like me a personal assistant to a…

  Okay, that’s my fantasy. For the last two years I’ve worked for a man who I think is the sexiest male on the planet. Yes, I know what you’re thinking. How can I possibly give him that title without me having met every man on earth? But to me he is. No one’s ever come close. I’ve worked with him while he’s dated a model, a PR assistant, and an artist, but none of his relationships have ever worked out. I often sit with my elbows on my desk thinking that he’s not found the right women yet. And that woman might just be me.

  I have dreams about him entering the office, tearing off my clothes, bending me over the desk and fucking me for the rest of the work day.

  The chances of that happening are slim, but a girl can dream can’t she?

  Last month, I thought what the hell, if I can’t have the real thing, I’ll go for a fantasy. I sent in my application and made a wish.

  I guess wishes do come do, even for girls like me.

  I look at the letter again. My fantasy will begin tomorrow. I can’t wait.

  Chapter Two

  It’s raining as I arrive at work the following day. I step inside the foyer, take off my coat and shake off the droplets of water.

  “Jenna,” I recognize the voice. It’s Ms. Nealon from the human resources department.

  “There you are,” she says, walking over to me. I look at the clock on the wall and know I’m not late despite the bus being tardy this morning.

  “Mr. Thorpe wants to see you in his office ASAP.”

  Mr. Thorpe. Just the sound of his name makes my legs wobble and my pussy do a back flip.

  “He didn’t seem very pleased about something,” she continues. “So I suggest you hurry.”

  Gregory, as a lucky few get to call him, isn’t usually grumpy or bad tempered but maybe he’s gotten out of the wrong side of the bed this morning.

  Oh yeah, how I’d like to be in that bed with him as he stumbles out of it after a night of hot sex with me. His bare ass heading toward the bathroom…

  “Don’t just stand there,” Ms. Nealon says.

  Does she recognize the look of a daydreamer? Maybe she has her own set of fantasies about Mr. Thorpe.

  I put my raincoat over my arm and decide not to wait for the elevator but instead take the stairs. I get to the third floor, turn the corner and head down to my office. I step inside to see that Mr. Thorpe’s office door is shut.

  I knock on it.

  “Come in.”

  His voice is the deepest one I’ve ever heard and that’s part of his appeal. It makes me feel like he could protect me against anything that comes through the door.

  I go inside. He looks up from his keyboards. Today he’s wearing the dark blue suit with the subtle dark blue strips. The one I love so much…the one I have him wearing in my fantasy application.

  Shit, I’ve turned beet red. I know I have because I can feel the burn in my neck and cheeks.

  He hasn’t shaved which I’ve never known him not do. Something is different about him today.

  Fuck, on my application I’d added that I’d like him to have a couple of day’s growth on his chin when we live out the fantasy. I’ve always wished he’d have some stubble and go down on me and rub my folds and pussy raw.

  “You want to take a seat.”

  His voice makes me jump. I’d love to sit down but my panties are almost as damp as my coat. And this time it’s not due to the rain but by my own cream making its way down my legs.

  I sit, quickly crossing my legs and realizing it’s just adding to the discomfort.

  He opens his desk drawer and places what looks like the same gold envelope I’d received yesterday but it couldn’t possibly be. Not unless he’s also put in an application and been picked. But they said only one winner per month.

  “I received this yesterday,” he says.

  It is from Fantasy LLC because there’s also a gold button and red string just like mine.

  “I had no idea that you harbored such thoughts about me. It’s very detailed,” he says, opening up the envelope and there in front of him sits my fantasy scenario.

  Fuck, shit, are there any other four letter words I can use to express how embarrassed I am? Now he knows everything and the application was supposed to be a secret. Could I sue them…whoever they are?

  Bastards. Now he knows every one of my fantasies about him. Oh shit, even the one about him wearing those gloves.

  I’m going to throw up. No, I’m going to be fired.

  “We have a lot to talk about,” he says.

  Where am I going to find another job? Where am I going to find another boss like him?

  Without me realizing it, he’s stood, walked around to the front of the desk and pulled a chair up beside me. He crosses his leg. Wait a minute. Did I notice a bulge in the front of those designer pants of his? Yeah, I did. He’s got a hard-on. Maybe he enjoyed reading my fantasy so much it’s given him a boner.

  “It’s come to my attention that you’ve been a naughty girl, Chloe.
”

  He brushes some lint off his navy blue pants, the silver ring on his little finger catching the light and shining directly onto me.

  Holy fuck. Chloe, he’s called me Chloe. That’s the name I said I wanted to be in my fantasy. Chloe is the hot girl in the marketing department that everyone lusts over. He’s probably already realized the connection.

  “I’m…”

  Tongue tied and not sure if I should play along with him or admit everything, apologize, and then get the hell out of here.

  Mr. Thorpe puts his hand on my knee and gives it a squeeze.

  “They tell me you’ve been a bad, bad girl.”

  This is incredible. That’s the line I wrote hoping that he’d say that to me as we head into the fantasy. I decide to play along.

  What’s my next line? I panic trying to recall everything I wrote. Yeah, now I remember…

  “What makes you think I’ve been bad?” I ask.

  He increases the pressure as he continues to wrap his hand around my knee. “There’s over a million dollars missing from my company, and all clues point to you. The fancy clothes, the new car, and the trip to Monaco last year.”

  I swallow hard twice. I never dreamed that I’d hear my lines of dialogue roll off that sexy tongue of his. He makes this all seem so real that I feel as if he’s backed me into a corner and I’ve actually done something bad. Who knew as well as being sexy that he could act too?

  “Can you prove I used your money to fund all that?” I ask.

  “You’re not as smart as you think. I’ve had a private investigator follow you and he’s checked into your banking activity for the last six months.”

  He’s so close to me now that I can feel his breath on my cheek. I can smell the minty mouthwash he uses every morning after he’s drunk his coffee.

  “So you’re going to turn me over to the police?” I ask, getting more into the role I created late one night about six months ago.

  His smile is suddenly more sly and sexy. “That wouldn’t be much fun. Even though you’ve embezzled from me, you’re still a valuable employee.”

  “You’re going to look the other way?” I ask. My pussy is pulling knowing what line is coming next.

  “I can’t do that, and you’re going to need to be punished. I want you to learn the consequences of taking money from me.”

  Punished, punished by him, that’s my fantasy. Oh holy shit, if this plays out like I wrote it, I’m going to be in paradise very soon. I won’t be able to look my boss in the eye ever again. But I’m going to remember it for the rest of my life.

  He loosens his tie, pulls it down from the collar a few inches, and then very slowly, pops open the button of his shirt.

  “Punish me?” I ask, unable to look away from the hint of skin he’s just revealed.

  I’ve only ever seen his chest once and that’s when I accidentally walked in him changing shirts because one of his former girlfriends had put lipstick on it.

  “You’ll do everything I ask you to do” he says.

  Those magic words twirl around in my mind. He must have learned my script by heart.

  “And what if I don’t want to?” I ask him

  “It’s either that or prison. It’s your choice.”

  I know what my answer is going to be but I bite my lip and make it look real like I’m weighing my options and then finally I say-“Okay, I guess I’m all yours.”

  “Meet me down at reception in five minutes.”

  He stands, turns, and walks out of his office.

  It’s like suddenly being psychic, knowing what’s about to happen minute by lovely minute. I even know what’s waiting for me down in reception…

  Chapter Three

  In my fantasy, Mr. Thorpe’s name is Duncan. I don’t know why I chose that name for him. Maybe I’ve had dreams about him wearing a kilt.

  As the doors of the elevator part, I see Luke, Mr. Thorpe’s limo driver standing by the entrance of the building. He’s wearing his usual uniform, black suit, white shirt, and the dark hat that my boss always insists he wears. He waves to me as I walk toward him and that’s when I remember that I included him in my fantasy.

  I’ve always wondered what lies underneath that suit and what it would be like having both Mr. Thorpe and Luke pleasuring me at the very same time.

  I feel the heat burning in my cheeks the closer I get to him. I’m guessing he also knows my secret.

  “Chloe,” he says as he tilts his head in my direction. “Duncan is waiting for you in the limo.”

  He holds back the glass entry door and I head outside. The black limo with tinted grey windows is idling at the bottom of the steps. Luke rushes ahead of me and opens the door.

  I slide in, realizing that although I’m Mr. Thorpe’s PA, I’ve never ridden in the limo. I suddenly feel the coolness of the plush leather seat against my back and buttocks. Duncan, (Mr. Thorpe), is already sitting in there and my thigh bumps into his. I can feel his hard muscles running along the side of his leg. I know he works out every day.

  Luke closes the door and the next thing I know he’s in the limo too and raising the heavily tinted privacy glass between him and us.

  “Is this…”

  I’m about to ask if this really is going to play out like my fantasy but Duncan puts his finger up to his lips. “Don’t ask any questions or it will spoil your fun.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  “And there’s one rule,” he says.

  Oh yeah, I already know the rule. I made it.

  “You’re to do everything I ask and not question a thing,” Duncan says.

  I ease my butt back farther on the seat.

  The limo pulls away from the building and Luke heads out onto the main road. It’s still raining.

  “Open up your coat and blouse for me,” Duncan says.

  I’m used to doing as he tells me but now it’s almost as if I’m the one in control. My fantasy is directing him. I open my coat as slowly as I can, hoping he’d catch on that I’ve already decided to tease him. After all, this is my fantasy and not his. Well at least I don’t think it is.

  He doesn’t take his eyes off me for a second. I push back both sides of my coat and slowly slide down the zipper on my blouse. I don’t have to push that aside because Duncan’s hand is inside it before I have a chance. I swallow hard, realizing he’s wearing the black leather gloves. I don’t know why I included them in the fantasy. I’ve only seen him wear them once. However, as I feel his fingers moving across the lace of my bra I know I’ve done the right thing.

  “How do you feel knowing I can do this whenever I damn well please?” he asks. He passes his fingers over my nipples, making them ache. My breasts suddenly feel heavy with the need to be touched is agonizing.

  “I suppose I should have thought about it before I stole money from you,” I say. I was in bed late one night when I wrote that line.

  Duncan pinches my right nipple, taking me by surprise. He leans in and kisses my earlobe. I wrote that scenario the very same night.

  “Is this turning you on, Chloe?”

  I suddenly like the name I’ve chosen for myself. Maybe after the fantasy is over I’ll keep that name. What about my job though? I’m not going to be able to look Mr. Thorpe in the eye. Will he ever be able to call me into his office or ask me to go fetch him a cup of coffee after this? I guess we’ll see.

  He pushes his hand up under my skirt. He rests it on the top of my thigh while he kisses my neck.

  “You want to tell me about your pussy and what it’s feeling right now?” he whispers close to my ear.

  I’ve always known I’d love the way he says the word pussy and I do. It makes it even more special when it’s my pussy he’s referring to.

  “It’s wet, hot, and waiting for you to touch it,” I say.

  “Remember I make the rules,” he says.

  He sounds angry, and for some strange reason it actually turns me on.
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  “When’s the last time someone fucked you?” he asks.

  I don’t remember putting that into my fantasy but I’m not offended that he’s asked me.

  “It’s so long ago that I can’t remember.” I’m not joking because the last time I had sex has been eighteen months ago and probably the reason for all these fantasies about my boss.

  “Then you should be nice and tight for me.”

  Another line I didn’t write myself. Shit, this is going to be even better than I’d planned.

  He lets his fingers splay back and forth over my thigh. “Touch my cock,” he says.

  I reach under his coat, feeling the bulge push against my palm. His cock is hard and I hope it’s as big as it feels through his pants. I give it a squeeze, feeling it jerk a little.

  He moves away and gets down on the floor in front of me. There is plenty of space for him to get comfortable. Duncan places his hands on either side of my skirt and hitches it up until it’s scrunched around my thighs. He massages my calves and thighs as his hands make their way upwards. I’m not prepared for what he does next. He grabs the waistband of my panties and yanks them down.

  “Raise your ass,” he orders.

  I lift my butt off the seat as Duncan slides my panties over my hips and down my thighs.

  “Now move to the center of the seat.”

  I inch across it, feeling the leather brush my folds.

  “You see those two leather straps?” he asks. He points behind me. I look in that direction. Two black handles hang from both sides of the limo’s walls. I turn back to face him and nod.

  “I want you to put your hands through them and hold on, no letting go, no matter what I do to you.”

  “You won’t…harm me, will you?”

  I quickly remember one of the lines from the script I submitted.

  He shakes his head. “Punish, yes, but with pleasure not pain. Pleasure…for you and me.”

  With half-excitement, half apprehension, I put my hands into the straps. They are cold, rough, but I do as I’m told.

  Duncan presses the button for the limo’s intercom.