The Irresistible Billionaire

"Your new parcel just arrived," I announced, depositing the box on his table with a grunt. "Your lube, condoms, and heaven knows what else."

The usual smugness on his face was absent today. His eyes—colder than the depths of the sea but hotter than the sun—were throwing glares at the hard copy report from the finance department.

"Problem?" I asked casually, as if I didn't work for him and was just talking to an idiot friend of mine.

"I didn’t get my fill last night, got a speeding ticket this morning, and then this..."

He tossed the red folder onto his unorganized table and passed his glare to me, as if I were the one who caused all his headaches.

"That motherfucking cocksucker thought stealing all my ideas and endorsing my products would take him a step ahead of me," he added, pointing at his chest.

Lifting my eyebrows, I already knew what was making his million bubbles of ego burst.

In his world of bachelor life and business, there was one daredevil who dared to oppose him—Archer Cullen, his ultimate rival.

Archer was known for being a copycat and a cheater, but who could sue him? He was great at patching his loopholes before anyone could find them, which frustrated the heck out of the legendary Johnny Miles.

"A step?" I repeated, nasally. "From my point of view, he’s already a mile ahead of you since you're always busy drowning yourself in someone’s ass instead of attending important meetings."

Groaning, he sank into his seat.

My eyes feasted on his perfection. His head was thrown back, giving me a full view of his neck, the lump in his throat bobbing up and down. His wide pecs stuck out, his knees apart, carelessly giving me a sight every woman loved to sit on.

Gulping hard, I composed myself. I’m not like those other women who would invite him to bed.

"Keep that up, and you'll lose all your investors."

Johnny scoffed. "No, I won’t," he uttered confidently.

Rolling my eyes, I caught on fast. "Right, because you're banging those perverted cougars sitting at the round table."

Laughing wholeheartedly, he leaned back comfortably in his swivel chair, tilting his head and melting me with his viscous stare.

I could write a list of all the things I hated about him, but out of all the obvious ones, that meaningful stare was what I hated the most.

He knew exactly how to tease me, just like I knew him from head to toe. But I never showed any signs of defeat. Never.

"Anything else you need? I've got a lot of calls to take, and more than half of them are from your clingy women chasing that train between your legs," I said, keeping my stare blank behind my thick-rimmed glasses.

"Do you know what I’m thinking, Cass?" he asked, raking his eyes over me.

Studying me from head to toe, many would certainly wrinkle their noses at me. In this generation, I'd rather be called weird than fashionable.

Animal-printed kitten heels that always give me trouble keeping my balance. Pink leggings underneath my mint cowl skirt, paired with a black-and-white polka-dot off-shoulder top. My chestnut hair? Curly and fluffy, brushed off my face with a huge pink hair clip.

I looked like a typical weirdo from the eighties. Add my swaying peacock feather earrings, and no one would dare spare a second of their life to look at me—unless Johnny forgot his taste or if his insanity struck.

"Yes, and I don’t think my stomach would survive if I heard it," I replied straightforwardly.

"How are you surviving that kind of life? No sex, no fun, just you and your boring self," he wondered, as if I were an oddity in his world. "All the women I’ve met can't live without jewelry, expensive dresses, and my attention. Why are you different?"

"Well, first, I'm not a whore, and I'm mature. A complete opposite," I slapped him with my words, still standing like a rejected doll in front of him. "Unlike you and your 'tenacious' followers, I have my own priorities."

"You know, I could fire you for talking to me like that. I'm still your boss," he reminded me.

Stomping my heel lowkey, I almost snickered. "You're free to kick me out of the building anytime, but good luck finding someone better than me."

He hummed, protruding his lower lip, playing with it using his candle-like fingers. "Touché," he muttered under his breath.

"Is there anything else you need?"

With a strained grunt, he pushed himself upright and lazily reached for his parcel. "A woman," he simply replied, making me sigh in disappointment.

"I'll bring in the first one I pick up from the telephone," I said, pivoting toward the door, but before I could reach the knob, he spoke.

"No."

Arching an eyebrow, I looked over my shoulder and asked, "Got someone specific?"

"Yeah," he answered, taking out a bottle of lube and a box of condoms. "And I need her in my house with me," he added, standing up. He grabbed his jacket that was hanging on the backrest of his chair.

"Your house?" I muttered in disbelief. He never brought any of his women to his house.

I watched him walk closer and carelessly toss his lube and condoms at me. I had to crouch and carry them with both arms just to catch them.

"Yep! That’s why you're coming with me," he announced, opening the door for us.

Staring at him in disbelief, I pushed his things back at him. "If you need an audience, then do it publicly. There's no way I'm going with you," I croaked.

"No, I mean—you," he pointed at me, "are coming," he made a bold sex gesture with his hands, "with me," he pointed at himself, leaving my jaw dropping.

Leaning his side against the doorway, he flashed his grin at me and wiggled his eyebrows.

Suddenly, my head began picturing the two of us in bed. I could hear myself moaning from his touch, screaming his name while he fucked me hard—

"Eww!" I exclaimed, brushing past him and rushing to my desk, his boisterous laughter echoing through the whole building.

"Oh, come on, Cassy babe. I know you need time to enjoy yourself, and you should be honored that I want you to have it with me," he negotiated, sitting on one butt cheek on my table. "I promise you, having me in bed is a lot more satisfying and relieving than working."

"Get your filthy ass off my desk, 'sir'," I enunciated, flicking his hip.

With one swift move, he caught my hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it.

"What are you doing?" I snatched my hand back and wiped the spot he kissed on my skirt. He was bringing me millions of his perverted bacteria.

"Cranky," he teased, poking my cheek. "I'm going home. The paperwork is draining me. I need to chill for a second."

"You do realize those papers need your signature by tomorrow? You have a meeting in two hours, and—"

"I'll do it all tomorrow. Reschedule what needs to be rescheduled," he cut me off, standing up and straightening his suit. "I need you to help me pack my things for Seattle."

"Should I remind you that my work is inside this building? I'm your secretary, not your maid. And your board meeting in Seattle is in ten days. I suggest you—"

"I'll pay you."

And just like that, he threw me a bait.

"I'll be at the lobby. Don't make me wait." He winked at me before making his way to the elevator.

My eyes followed him until he disappeared around the corner. Only then did I find myself free to breathe.

Almost two years of working for him, and I always had to hold my breath whenever he's near. And I'm slowly losing my grip.

Dialing a number, I waited anxiously for it to be picked up. After just a few rings, I heard the familiar voice of the woman who put me in this position.

"Cassidy? What made you call? Is something wrong?" she asked from the other end of the line.

"Auntie Tamara, I... I don't think I can do this any longer," I admitted honestly, and her silence answered me. "I feel like if I keep myself close to him, I might fail."

She sighed softly. "I know this is hard, sweetheart. But please... I'll pay you double—triple, if I have to. I just need my son to finally realize that he's not getting any younger! And you're the best choice I have."

"Auntie, I—it's not about the money anymore." Catching my forehead with my palm, I silently groaned. "This is hopeless. Johnny is someone who wouldn't fall in love. He’s living his life as a bachelor, and uh... I'm just not the type who could steal his heart until he begs me to give it back. His heart only belongs to himself."

"Give it more time, Cassidy, please?" she begged.

Massaging the sides of my head, I took a deep breath. "This plan isn’t working because... I think I’m the one falling into my own trap," I admitted, my voice laced with frustration.

I had tolerated his flirtation and seduction far longer than I ever imagined, but as time went by, my walls started to weaken. They were crumbling.

As I ended the call, I stared blankly into space for a second.

My greed for money brought me here. This is all my fault.

"Didn't I say that I hate waiting?"

Johnny's voice pulled me out of my trance, making me flinch in surprise as I looked at him, wide-eyed.

"How—how long have you been there?" I asked, realizing I hadn't heard the elevator ding. Did he hear my conversation with his mother? Shit!

He looked at me suspiciously. "Why?"

"No—nothing," I mumbled, grabbing my purse and putting on the mask I always wore whenever I was with him. "Let's go," I announced, brushing past him.

I heard him chuckle in amusement before following behind me. "Nice ass," he commented, giving me a spank.

A gasp left my lips, but before I could start ranting at him, he pushed me inside the elevator and pinned me against the wall.

"Johnny!"

"I always love it when you call me by my name," he murmured, leaning in so close our lips nearly touched. "But I want it in a different tone."

"Stop treating me like your women. I'm not your slut—I'm your secretary. So if you don't mind, let me go." I tried to pull my hands away, but he kept me in place.

"You always think I'm an idiot, don't you?" he asked, tilting his head and brushing his nose against mine, making me jerk. "But this idiot knows you're hiding something from me. What is it, Cass?"

I stiffened, muttering curses under my breath.

Does he already know? When? How?

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," I lied.

A wide grin spread across his face. "Of course, you wouldn’t tell me a thing. I’ll know it soon enough. But for now... I’d like to know how these lips taste," he whispered, claiming my lips.