His Secretary

Chapter 2 : be mine

I was feeling generous by updating , but if you want another update soon, as soon as this chapter and last chapter gets to 15 votes each and more comments,  I'll put it out.

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Christian

I decide I'd take her to Prissy's, it was a boutique downtown that had all the best designers and fashion trends. She had so much more potential with her body, leggings and button ups? I was still confused why she never got a clothes upgrade, considering the money I paid her.

She's a beautiful young woman, her complexion was beautiful and her body was molded to perfection. She just doesn't give herself the chance to acknowledge it.

I was outside the dressing room, waiting for her to try on the things that a lady picked out for her. How long is it going to take?

I walked over to the room she was in and was about to knock when I heard her talking to herself, "Ugh, I need a better bra, I won't even get noticed with these uniboobs. I need to stop wearing my granny undies too, geez Mari, you need to do better than this! I better try one of these outfits on, so I don't keep Mr Lawson waiting." I couldn't help but notice that she'd said my name in a whiny voice... like she didn't like working for me. I think that I'm a good boss, I pay her well so she should be content.

Stuck in my own thoughts, I hadn't realized she was out.

"Mr Lawson?"

I hardly recognized her. She had on a black sleeveless dress that stopped mid calf, paired with black sandals. She only ever wore flats, so now, her legs looked devouringly long.

I looked up at her face that some woman had helped her "beat", and long chestnut colored hair, that they'd straightened and curled. Though I preferred her hair naturally curly, she was truly a work of art.

"Okay your making me blush Mr Lawson." She stared at the ground. I could tell she was self conscious, and wasn't aware of the raw beauty she possessed.

"You just look stunning, that's all." I implied, "You can call me Christian outside the office Ms Blythe." I was tempted to call her by her first name as well, but I wanted her permission.

"You can call me Marisol," She finally looked up, "Christian."

After a couple more stops, and dozens of more bags, we were walking out of Victoria's Secret (she insisted she needed some undergarments), when my stomach started rumbling. It was lunch time. Though I know something else I was more eager to eat.

"You sound hungry." Marisol said with a giggle, than looked down when we met eyes.

"I didn't think you'd notice." I unlocked my Mercedes' doors and we hopped in, "Lets grab a bite." I suggested.

I decided we have a casual lunch so I took her to Raltos Italian Restaurant and Bar. My favorite, since I was partly Italian.

"Hi, welcome to Raltos Italian Restaurant and Bar, what can I get for you?" A waitress  more on the young side, asked. I looked up from my menu to catch her batting her artificial eyelashes at me.

I know she's just trying to get my attention. Women often flirted with me all the time, even in the office. I knew I was handsome it just gets annoying. That's another reason I like being around Marisol so much, she ignores my good looks and wealth, and doesn't try to mix business with pleasure. Though, I would love to pleasure her.

I payed no attention to the waiter as I placed my usual order, "Can I have the large fettuccine Alfredo with a coke." I looked over at Marisol to make her order.

"I'll have the same thing, except without coke, can I have a blueberry lemonade?" Marisol asked a lot more politely than I had.

"Sure thing sweetie," the waitress said to her through gritted teeth, trying to make her feel incompetent, then turned back to me, "I won't keep you waiting."

"That was a weird." I said, trying to engage in small talk.

She looked up from her phone, and shifted in her seat uncomfortable. She didn't like the topic, "What was weird... is that you didn't get blueberry lemonade, I mean, come on, how old are you, 50?" She joked.

"Nope, 27," I answered, now curious, I asked, "and how old are you Marisol?"

"24 and counting." She replied. Wow, I'm only three years older than her, yet I was her boss and supplied her paychecks. What a world we live in.

We ate, drank, talked, and had a lovely time. It was almost like a date, but we had the business line that would be dangerous to cross under any circumstances.

Like whenever our knees grazed one another's... we ignored it. But to be honest, I wanted much more than our knees touching.

I want her lips on mine, I want my large hands roaming the lengths of her soft skin, I want her to squirm from the sight of my large shaft, but crave it inside of her, I want her to scream my name like we were the only ones that mattered, I want her—

My unholy thoughts were disrupted by the annoying waitress, "Okay there is your receipt Mr Lawson," I never even told her my name? I guess the whole of New York knew me, "have a nice day." She handed me the receipt and hesitantly left. I couldn't help noticing how she was swaying her hips as she walked to gain my attention. Sure, she had a nice ass, but none can compare to Marisol's round and plump one, and the fact that her hips swayed naturally without her trying, I loved it so much.

I've made a goal for myself: I want Marisol Blythe to be mine, and I don't care what it takes. I want her near me at all times. She's been made to absolute perfection, she just doesn't know it yet.

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Thank you for reading this chapter, I love and appreciate you all ❤️
Goal before next chapter: 200 views , 15 votes , & 10 comments

I'll update as soon as I've seen this happen