In just a few short minutes, she was back in the dining room looking down at a spread of hot buttermilk pancakes, bacon, ham and eggs, fruit, freshly brewed coffee, and a selection of freshly squeezed juices. Her eyes widened in awe. "Is this all for me?" she asked Marcel. "Yes, Miss Chelsea, and Mr. Brown left a note for you." He pointed at a white envelope placed on a small silver tray beside her plate. Her name has been written in cursive in the middle of it. "Is there anything else you require, Miss Chelsea?" "No, Marcel. That will be all. Thank you. And please, just call me Chelsea," she said with a warm smile. He nodded and left me for her breakfast. She sat down slowly and gazed again at the array of breakfast items in front of her, but soon her interest returned to the envelope. What could Dave have written in it? Bastard. She thought. The nerve. Minutes later, she found herself devouring a lot more breakfast than she anticipated. Not eating much last night has apparen

One week later.Dave became nothing but a pain in the ass.And it was mere luck that the man was gone for a meeting, so here she was, manning the phones, trying not to die of boredom, hunger, and second-hand entitlement from all the asshats who thought that ‘personal assistant’ was an archaic English word for ‘person put on Earth to cater to Dave's every whim and whom it was appropriate to scream at if she did not immediately divine his exact wishes through telepathy.’ Goodness, the man was a jerk. How did she even fall in love with this asshole anyway?She could see one of those female field asshats approaching, and it was with considerable relief that she saw one of the phones light up. She grabbed at it like a lifeline."Brown Inc., how can I help you?""Hey, Chelsea, it’s Catherine. Time to gossip?"Wow, she didn't call her on her phone, but here in the office. "Sure thing, ma’am, I’ll walk you through that right now. It should only take about an hour," she mumbled sweetly.Assha

Warning Rated PG+18"It’s open, Diane. I’m just finishing up the-""It’s not Diane," comes Dave’s silky, masculine voice."Oh…" I say, a little embarrassed."Sorry to disappoint you.""It’s fine," I reply, dropping my gaze back down to my computer."I was wondering if you would like to join me for lunch? There is a really nice coffee shop just down the street."I am not sure if I should accept his offer. I am petrified about my mixed feelings for him and getting too close might ignite a fire that neither of us can diffuse.But on the other hand, I am so intrigued by him that I kind of want to get to know him.I want to see if there is another side to Dave Brown. A side that does not include dapper suits and an arrogant attitude."Okay," I finally said, daring to look back up at him.He chisels out a broad smile. "After you…""So, how is your day going?" Dave turns to me while leaning against the back of the elevator.I clasp my hands together and avoid eye contact. "It’s going pretty

Warning Rated PG+18Dave's rough but light hands moved over my hips to reassure me, moving me even more against him. His tongue moved to my tit, making me squirm even more against his growing shaft. The gentle feel of the hair that so sexily framed his shaft rubbed against the insides of my legs and my ass. His shaft, which had never completely gone limp, was growing again, parting the lips of my folds completely around his smooth length. His powerful hands held my tit up to his mouth, while the other clutched my ass, grinding my folds against him even more. His tongue was burning up my tits while his shaft was pushing harder and harder against my aching folds. Never in my life have I been this out of control on the inside.My eyes closed again. I felt light-headed from the amount of blood flowing to my folds. His wonderful shaft was slick from my own juices, rubbing in a steady rhythm against my clit that was about to make me scream in ecstasy. I felt my own hair slide down the back

The driver pulls up at what appears to be a very swanky restaurant. Two large white arches align the brick building labelled Grasso's, one of the most expensive restaurants in the city.Dave helps me out of the car and leads me into the establishment. The gold ceiling is dotted with crystal chandeliers, while bright red lighting gives the large space a seductive feel.The mood is quiet, private and intimate, with most couples staring lovingly into each other’s eyes.It’s perfect for our first date. I smile on the inside and tighten my grip on Dave’s hand as we walk through the restaurant."Your table is right this way, Mr. Brown," the hostess says, apparently familiar with my date.She directs us to a private section that is only accessible through a large white door. My nerves are jittery with anticipation of what will be revealed next. Perhaps a candlelit dinner overlooking the city? Or maybe I will be serenaded by someone playing the violin?But when the door opens, I almost have t