Savannah wakes up to a text message from Josh, the man who hired her, informing her that her new boss will be visiting her apartment at 10 a.m. with specific attire suggestions; wear a pencil skirt. She chuckles, contemplating whether it's a command or a request. She decides to disregard the instructions and instead opts for a pair of dark wash jeans and a purple blouse after taking a shower. Nervously, she sits on the couch, turns on the TV and gets lost in the movie "The First Avenger." Her thoughts wander to her encounter with Chris the previous night, and the memories of his intense gaze and his playful demand to buy her ice cream arouse her once again. Her body responds, and she feels a strong desire for touch, her panties becoming damp and her longing growing, when suddenly a knock on the apartment door startles her. She jumps slightly, chuckling to herself as she stands up and turns off the TV, preparing herself for the unexpected visitor. "Here we go," she mumbles under her breath.
With a smirk, Chris enters the apartment, and a look of confusion crosses Savannah's face. Annoyed at his intrusion, she shuts the door and confronts him. "What are you doing here, Chris?" she scoffs.
Ignoring her question, Chris asks, his face stern at her disregard for his choice of clothing, "Where do you want me to sit?" He shoves his hands into the pockets of his gray slacks, his gaze briefly lingering on her legs as she shifts her stance. Savannah, noticing his scrutiny, glances at his biceps stretching the sleeves of his black polo. "Again, I ask... what are you doing here? How do you know where I live?" she questions with a shake of her head.
Taking a step toward her, Chris enjoys the sight of her tensing up, caught off guard like a deer in headlights. "I'm your new boss," he reveals, relishing in the effect his words have on her. "That is... if you still want that after we talk. Now, I won't ask again. Where do you want to sit? Kitchen or living room?" he states firmly, his voice leaving no room for further discussion.
She hesitates, feeling his intense gaze upon her, and swallows hard before motioning for him to follow her to the couch. "You... Did you know last night when we met?" she asks, her voice wavering slightly. She takes a seat in the large chair beside the couch, while he settles himself in the middle of the couch, placing a folder on the coffee table, his eyes locked firmly on her.
"I did know," he responds sharply. "I thought I asked for a pencil skirt. Don't you have one?" His jaw clenches, and his gaze darkens as he glares at her, making her tense up.
"I do have one... I thought it was more of a request, not a command," she explains, trying to maintain her composure despite the way he throws her off balance and affects her thoughts. "Is it a command?"
"Yes. Go put one on," he demands, leaning back on the couch, observing her as she hesitates, contemplating her options.
Typically, she wouldn't appreciate being told what to do, but with him, it feels different. It's almost exhilarating, evident from the growing wetness in her panties. "Okay," she responds, her voice filled with a mix of uncertainty and anticipation.
As she starts to stand up, he grabs her hand, preventing her from moving past him. "Not okay... Yes, sir," he says with a smirk, causing her to bite her lip, her eyes widening as she looks down at him and nods slightly.
"Yes, sir," she manages to mumble out, her voice barely audible, as he releases her hand.
"Good girl," he praises, causing her to pause at the doorway to her room. She clears her throat, enters her room, and closes the door behind her, leaning her head back against it for a moment. "Fuck," she whispers to herself, realizing the effect he has on her. Taking off her jeans, she knows she must restrain herself for now, even though she craves release. She grabs a black pencil skirt that falls just above her knees and pulls it on, the fabric hugging her curves.
Chris's eyes follow her as she emerges from her bedroom, crossing in front of him once more before settling back into the chair. He leans forward on his knees, his gaze fixed on her for a long, silent moment. "We have some things to go over. We'll discuss everything, and I'll answer any questions you have. Then, you can decide if this is still something you want. Okay?"
She nods, her eyes briefly darting to a tattoo peeking out of his collarbone that tempts her to reach out and touch. Biting her lip, she knows she needs to gather herself. Where was the confident girl from last night who flirted with Alex? This man opens his mouth, and she finds herself squirming in her seat. "Sounds good."
"Your official title will be assistant. I'll need you to be available when I require your assistance, running errands and such," he explains, watching her intently, waiting to deliver the rest. Her heart pounds against her ribcage, and her face flushes hot. This man has a way of making her forget how to breathe.
Leaning toward him, she lets out a sigh. "What else?"
He shakes his head, suddenly feeling a tinge of nervousness as he leans back on the couch. "Don't think this is a typical arrangement. This is new for me."
"Okay. Spit it out already," she asserts, prompting a smirk from Chris.
He just knows that she's going to be fun. "I want you," he confesses.
She shakes her head, a mixture of confusion and amusement on her face. "Me? Want me to do what?" His gaze, however, makes it clear that he's undressing her with his eyes, causing her to squirm once again in her chair.
Leaning closer to her, he says, "You keep doing that. I make you nervous. You did it last night at the ice cream shop. I turn you on. It's incredibly sexy, I have to tell you."
Her breath quickens, and her mind goes blank, unsure of how to respond as she stares at the floor, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her. Chris shifts on the couch, moving closer until he's right beside her on the chair. "Don't be embarrassed. Look at me, Savannah," he says, gently gripping her chin and lifting it so their eyes meet.
She swallowed hard, the intensity in his eyes mirroring that of the previous night as his hand dropped onto his lap. "You do," she confirmed softly, a shiver running down her spine as he smiled.
"Good girl," he murmured, leaning back on the couch, his gaze lingering on her body as she tightly clenched her thighs together. "That's what I want. I have certain needs that require fulfillment. And I want them fulfilled by you."
She shook her head with a scoff, convinced she must be misunderstanding him. "You can have anyone you want."
He smirked, enjoying her sudden shyness. "I don't enjoy casual encounters. I prefer comfort and consistency. Besides, there's the hassle of seeking someone new when I can simply call you..."
She abruptly rose to her feet, anger surging within her at his insinuation, while he remained sitting, strangely calm. "So, you want to pay me to have sex with you whenever you want? You've got some nerve! I'm not a prostitute!"
YOU ARE READING
Good Girl 💙
Fanfiction~~Completed~~ Formally The Willing Assistant 'His intense gaze made her feel like he already knew her, and she couldn't help but feel self-conscious under his scrutiny. Her face flushed as she found herself lost in his mesmerizing pale blue eyes. He...
