Chapter 3

“You’re here! Want to hook up? I am ready.”

“I might just leave,” I said then turned around to face the door. My heart is beating so loud. I heard his silly laugh at me. He forgot he almost fuck the woman in front of me last night. If I didn’t leave them I might see a live show of them fucking together.

“You can’t, I will be working today and as you are my assistant then you have to come with me. You can face me now. I am in my jeans,” he said making me face him. He just buttons his jeans when I face him. He is topless but it is better than being naked in front of me.

“I will be meeting with someone today.”

I just nod at him. I don’t have any other choice but to go along with him because this is my job. “I will be in the living room if you need me,” I said then left him. The hallway is full of paintings. I am not a fan of the arts but I know how to see their beauty.

“Tara, right?” a lady approached me as I sat down on the sofa waiting for Peter. She is wearing what housemaids wore. Her blonde hair is in a bun, she looks tall and has a slender body. Her eyelashes are on the flick and so as her pouting red lips.

“Yes.”

“I am Ciarra, our name sounds like, right? By the way, I like your red hair. Is it natural? And your sapphire blue eyes. Are you wearing a contact lens?”

“Yes, and No, they are natural. I like your light brown eyes too,” I said to her, complimenting the color of her eyes. She winked at me. She is wearing heels and her nails are long. She doesn’t look like a housemaid to me if she will just remove her clothes and change into something else.

“Do you have a crush on Peter?”

I immediately shook my head. I don’t have plans on crushing over an arrogant playboy, never will be. I have a boyfriend that I love more than anybody else.

“Better don’t. He is mine and by the way, nice boobs and butt, you are so blessed to have those,” she said then suddenly left me. I saw Peter on the staircase, staring at me. He wore black jeans and a coat. I forgot to bring my coat but I have a layered of clothes on. That would be okay if we won’t stay outside that long.

He slowly went down the stairs as his eyes were fixed to mine. I cleared my throat, unable to produce a word because I was lost in his stares. I shifted my gaze to the vase that I know cost thousands of dollars. He walked towards my way but stopped when I was just staring at the corner.

“Can I fuck you now?”

“Fuck yourself, Peter.”

He laughed at me. The look in his eyes is telling me he is pleased with my response. He pull me out of the house, “Fuck!” he muttered a curse when he saw none of their cars was left. “Whatever,” he said to himself then went back to the house. I saw him press something on the wall and the other wall next to mine opened.

“Don’t worry, this is my baby.”

A sports car showed up in the garage. A mini garage for his sports car? I was staring at the red sports car. It lit up that’s why I looked at him. “My car would be better if there’s two of us. So, you can blow job me while I drive.”

“You wish.”

He walked past me then suddenly smacked my booty. “I am waiting for the time you will scream out of pleasure and will say ‘spank me daddy’ while I push in and pull out inside you.”

“That wouldn’t happen.”

He opens the door for me. I walked my way to the car and sit down silently.

“You are one of a lucky woman who got the chance to sit on my baby,” he said, holding the steering wheel. I am not a lucky woman because I get the chance to spend time with him. I never wished to be in playboy’s car.

“This is a nightmare.”

He laughed at my remarks.

I don’t know what does a personal assistants does. I am new to doing this. Peter is on a meeting with his bandmates while I am here, sitting down, watching the people go round and round, judging them by the way they dressed and ignoring the presence of the men who are whistling at me.

Some even came to me, tried to have a little conversation but would back out if I told them I am engaged. Some won’t mind if I am engaged, some would want to have a date but I rejected their offer. I never knew I would be here, doing nothing just waiting for Peter to go out.

“Hi! Are you new here?” a lady asked me, a cup of coffee in her hand. She is wearing eyeglass that made her more mature looking to me. Her skirt is almost showing up in her underwear.

“I am.”

“That’s why you looked so out of place. A manager of a new artist or a personal assistant?”

“The latter,” I answered. She glanced at my clothes. I am wearing jeans with a shirt and a jacket on. She was waiting for me to say something based on her eyes that is staring at me. “A personal assistant of Peter.”

Her mouth formed an O shape when I mentioned Peter’s name. “The hot one, everyone knows him for being a playboy and a fuck boy. Are you perhaps his fuck buddy?” she asked. Why do others keep on asking me that? Why do they always ask if I am someone’s fuck buddy? Do I look like one?

“I am not--”

“Why?” she hysterically asked. “I have slept with him once and I can say he is good in bed, a monster in bed perhaps,” she whispered. Her eyes almost twinkle, maybe remembering what happened between them as I would care.

“He can make you lose your sanity especially with those big and long--”

“I am going,” I said to stop her. I also saw Peter looking at my reaction when the lady described his friend down there.

“Afraid you might want me, my lady?” he whispered through my ear when I walked towards his spot. No. I am not afraid of it because I know how to control myself.