Possessed - Part One (6 page)

“Samantha?”

I was so totally into what I was doing that I forgot I wasn’t alone on this plane. Dammit.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” It’s Leo.

“I’m fine. I’ll be out in a second.”

I swiftly pat my dress down and freshen up before I open the door. I squeal when I find Leo staring right at me. I’m petrified as his lips curve into a smile.

“Had a nice … break?” he asks with emphasis on the ‘break’ part.

“Don’t scare me like that,” I say, sighing.

“What were you expecting? With all that noise, I had to find out what was going on.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He leans forward, coming dangerously close to my lips again. “I think you do.” His hand reaches toward my face, and for a second I almost think he’s going for it again, but instead he grabs a loose strand of hair and tucks it behind my ears.

“Do you like bothering women on the toilet?” I snarl, lifting an eyebrow, trying not to come across as intimidated.

“No.” He grins. “Just you.”

“Oh, fuck off,” I say, frowning, trying to walk past him.

But he places his hands on both sides of the door, trapping me in. “Is that the way you talk to your boss?”

“You’re asking for it.”

“I’m not asking for your metaphorical fuck you. The regular one … now that’s a whole different question.”

I fold my arms. “What do you want,
Leo
?”

“Getting personal, are we?” he says, cocking his head.

“It doesn’t get any more personal than stalking a lady on the freaking toilet.”

“True.” He licks his lips. “Hmmm … have I ever told you how good you look when you’re all flushed?”

My lips part in shock. “What?”

“You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m not,” I quickly retort.

“Yeah, you are.” There’s a cheeky smile on his face. “I can’t help but wonder if it’s because of me … or because of something else.”

Gasping, I lean back to gaze in the mirror, but I only see a bit of redness on my cheeks. Nothing special. It’s not like my entire chest is radiating, which has happened in the past.

Suddenly, he steps inside with me.

“Hey!”

Before I can push him away, he’s already grasped something off the sink.

Something that belongs to me.

Something I accidentally left there when he interrupted me.

Oh, god.

Oh, shit.

Oh, fuck no.

My eyes widen. “Give that back. Right. Now.”

“Or what?” he taunts, biting his lip. “You gonna throw yourself at me?”

“I might. Give it to me.” I hold out my hand.

“I think I’ll prefer the throwing yourself at me part. We can use a little extra practice in the marital fights.”

My hand shoots out to grasp his, but he holds it up in the air, far away from me.

“Dammit!” I say, standing on the tips of my shoes, but it’s no use.

He slowly opens his hand to reveal what’s inside. My vibrator, of course. And he holds it between his index finger and thumb like it’s some kind of magical bullet that can destroy anything.

“Leo …” I growl.

He holds it in front of him. “This belongs to you?”

“Yes, now hand it back.”

He smiles. “Interesting …”

Before I have a chance to grab it, he turns the bottom part around, turning it on.

Oh, holy shit.

The grin plastered on his face is both humiliating and infuriating. I’m contemplating on whether to kick him in the balls, punch him in the throat or just blatantly jump from this plane to escape embarrassment.

“This explains a lot.”

“Oh, fuck off. Do you take pleasure in torturing me?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, I do find it very … pleasuring to torture you like this.”

“Screw you …” I grate my teeth.

He laughs. “Oh, Samantha, you are way too punishing on me. I’m not as cruel as you think I am, even though I might come across as such.”

“Definitely. Are you done laughing now?” I say as I hold out my hand.

“Not sure, it depends on if this little thing got you what you wanted … Did it get you off?”

I frown, licking my lips. “I’m not even going to answer that.”

“You don’t have to,” he muses. “I can see it on your face.”

“Can you see something else on my face, like the angry redhead whose about to punch you if you don’t give that thing back?”

“I can definitely see something else … especially the desire to finish what you started.”

He leans forward again, causing me to arch my back as he towers over me. “Is this what you enjoy, Miss Webber? Spending some time alone during work, pleasuring yourself?”

“I don’t need to answer that,” I snarl.

“Oh, but you do, since you work for me, and you’re basically wasting valuable time here.”

My jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a little enjoyment at work, and I would definitely not discourage you from doing exactly that.”

Now I’m flushing even more.

“But to use
this
thing?” he says. “And then not come?” He shakes his head. “There are much better ways.”

“Like you know all about that …” I say.

“That’s exactly my point. I do.”

I’ve had about enough of his smugness and my own flushed skin.

“Right,” I snort. “I didn’t take you for a man who cared anything about what a woman wants.”

“You took me wrong then.”

Wow, the way he says it, all dark and with a low tone, covers my skin in goosebumps. So serious all of the sudden …

“Whatever,” I say, clearing my throat. “It’s not like you know me. At all.”

I try to push past him, but he places his hand elsewhere, trapping me once again.

Let’s change that,” he says. “I think it’s time we got to know each other a little better.”

“We can go over our notes when we’re seated again. Can I have my thing back now?”

“It’s called a vibrator, Samantha. Don’t be scared of the word. I’m not, and I certainly don’t mind you using one. However, I can definitely recommend a few better ones …”

I’m a bit stumped for words, uttering nonsense with my lips half-parted.

“It’s okay; you don’t have to say anything. I’ll take care of your needs.”

“W-what?” I mutter.

“Well, as my wife, I should take care of your needs, don’t you think?”

“Um … I guess. But you don’t know anything about me. You don’t know what I need. And what I definitely don’t need is another asshole in my life.”

He makes a sort of ‘tsk’ sound. “You keep saying that word, but you’re wrong about that part. You don’t know anything about me, either; nor what I need. Does that make you an asshole, too?”

“No, but that’s not what I mean, I–”

“For example, I might’ve been thinking for ages about how good it would feel to have a certain beautiful, curvy woman in a tight top and skirt walk into my office, go to her hands and knees, crawl under my desk, and suck me dry. After which I would drag her out, bend her over my desk, and fuck her senseless.”

My mouth has completely dried up, and my breath is faltering.

He blinks as a quick smile appears on his face. “Of course, that’s all hypothetically speaking. Fantasy is fantasy.” He grins. “Because what boss would fuck his employee?”

I can’t stop the whimper from coming out.

He leans in. “Did you know?”

“W-what?” I murmur, my lips quivering as he comes so close I could almost taste him again.

Goddammit, why does he do this?

“That’s what I like.”

I shake my head.

“Thought so.”

And then he backs off and turns around. Just like that.

I’m left partially leaning forward, expecting a kiss, which didn’t happen. I can still smell his intoxicating aftershave as he walks through the aisle with a confident stride and an ass so tight I could squeeze it.

Oh, fuck me, I’m screwed now.

We go over and over each other’s letters, making sure we don’t miss anything. We even quiz each other. I now know he enjoys his steak medium-rare, has at least one glass of wine every day to relax, and likes to take long showers. He enjoys anything that has to do with women (of course, that’s a no-brainer), loves dressing well, and enjoys fishing from time to time (I didn’t see that one coming). He also likes to play video games in his spare time (I definitely did not see that one from a mile away), and he sometimes likes to gamble (no wonder he was in Vegas).

He dislikes girls who make everything difficult (I think that remark meant for me specifically, but whatever), hates loud music (I might use that against him sometime), men who behave like pigs (I snorted reading that one), his sister (ouch), his parents (more ouch!), bad writing, and obligations. Ha, I guess we have one thing in common.

Well, it’s nice to know all this, but I still don’t know shit about him, and neither does he. It’s just not possible to write your whole damn life on a little piece of paper, let alone know yourself well enough to be able to explain it to everyone.

I think it’s wiser to stick to the important stuff like who our family is, where we went to college, what we do for a living. For instance, I know his sister’s name is Emily, that he has a brother named Adrian and another named Christopher, and that his parents are Tricia (short for Patricia) and Frank. If I can only remember not to call his brother Christopher … Leo told me that he hates it; he prefers Chris.

I hope I don’t screw up.

I’m getting worked up over nothing, but damn, my job depends on this and I can’t mess up. My armpits are already sweaty by the time the jet has landed. We leave the airport in a personal limo that Leo has arranged for us. I don’t know how much time we spend driving toward his parents’ house, but the closer we get, the more anxious I feel. I tell myself to calm down, but when I spot Leo peeking at me with a lopsided grin on his face, I get the urge to make them pull over so I can run far away.

It’s stupid, I know. He’d never let me leave.

I snort to myself, thinking not even bad jokes are going to save me from this. It’s happening, whether I like it or not. So I better put my big girl panties on, pretend I’m the nicest fucking wife he could ever have and get it over with.

And then I can go back to being the snooty assistant I’ve always been.

I’m surprised to find out his parents actually live in an estate far from the city center, close to the edge of a forest. Their land is huge, and it takes us a minute to drive from the gates up to the house, which is also enormous. It reminds me of those castles the queen of England owns, except his mother isn’t the queen, and this is ridiculously unbelievable. Completely in awe, I let him escort me out of the car, but then he comes to a stop a few feet away from the door. He pulls my hand and turns me toward him, narrowing his eyes.

“Do you remember everything I told you?”

“Yes, I think …”

“Don’t worry about it. Just relax and act natural.”

“I’m about to meet your parents, it can’t get any more absurd than this,” I say.

“Oh, yes it can … wait until you meet them.” He chuckles. “Or worse.”

I frown. “Worse?”

His lip curls up into a smile. “I’m glad it’s just them and not my entire family.”

That makes my pupils dilate. Oh, god no. I don’t even want to think about it.

“Well, let’s just get this over with. The sooner it’s done, the faster I can get back to being just your assistant,” I muse, as I take a deep breath.

“Hmm … pity,” he hums.

“What?” I glance over my shoulder at him.

“Oh, nothing.” He walks to the door. “Let’s just go inside.”

He rings the doorbell, and the moment his finger leaves the button, my heart begins to race. Some guy in a suit opens.

“Leo, how nice to see you.”

“Hey, Dave,” Leo says, and he leans in close to my ear, whispering, “Our butler.” His hot breath creates goosebumps on my skin, but there’s no time to linger. The butler is already holding out his hand.

“Come in; the Kings have been waiting for your arrival.” He looks at me. “May I take your coat?”

I smile nervously as I let him take off my coat and step inside the hall. It’s so high, and there’s a white staircase in the middle, leading up to what must be at least fifteen rooms in three different hallways. Expensive wooden paneling covers the walls, and the marble on the floor is so white and clean, I could eat from it.

“Oh my …”

“Leo?” I hear a faint voice coming closer and closer. A woman in a dark red dress steps out from a room with a gentle smile on her face.

“Hello, Mother,” Leo says, smiling.

She walks toward him and gives him a short hug. “Oh, Leonard,” she says. “It’s been too long.”

“Leonard?” I repeat, making a face, swallowing back a laugh.

Leo shoots me a look with narrowed eyes that could kill. I almost choke on my laughter.

When she releases him, she looks at me and says, “So you must be … the girl.” Her shoulders rise, and she makes a short squeaky, happy-fake sound before hugging me so tight I can barely breathe.

“It’s so good to meet you,” she says.

“Her name’s Samantha,” Leo says. When his mother releases me again, he grabs my hand and squeezes it softly, cocking his head to give me a fake, love-struck smile. “My Samantha.”

His father comes up to me, rubbing his grey stubble. “Frank.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” I say.

“Yes, it’s such a shame Leo hasn’t told us anything about you,” Tricia says.

“For good reason,” he sneers.

“Oh, Leonard, now is not the time to start arguments.”

“Yeah, Leonard,” I say, winking. “Your mother is just trying to be polite.”

She smiles at me with a smug look on her face while Leo grinds his teeth. I can almost hear him seethe; the hissing is quite unmistakable. I chuckle. This is going to be fun.