The Billionaire's Ultimatum: His Absolute Need (A BDSM Erotic Romance Novel) (Book One) (14 page)

Would he
notice?  Had I left any other signs of what I'd done?  When I thought I had my
blush under control, I turned to look at him.  He stretched on the couch, then
lowered his legs to the floor and rose to his feet.  I surreptitiously glanced
at his crotch, hoping to see(or preferably not see) anything amiss.  Nothing from
what I could tell, except my glance was perhaps a bit less covert than I'd
intended.

He lifted one
brow, looking at me funny.  "Jessika, are you alright?  Is something
wrong?  You're acting odd."

"No!"
I squeaked.  "Nothing!  I have to use the bathroom.  My hairs a mess.  I'm
sure I look terrible."

An excuse? 
Yes.  I didn't know if I looked terrible, nor did I care too much, but I
figured if I could use the age old excuse to my advantage, one used by many
women before me, then I should pull out all the stops and do it.

"You look
fine," he said.  "Nice, actually.  Somewhat glowing.  Very refreshed,
and..."

I nodded,
thanked him, and ran to the bathroom.  The upstairs one, far away from anywhere
Asher would be.  He probably looked at me quizzically and laughed to himself,
but I scurried up the stairs as quick as I could so I never saw any of that. 
The image in my head, the thought of it, that was more than enough to make me
feel embarrassed all over again.

I didn't
actually need to use the bathroom, not quite, but I freshened up anyways.  When
I looked in the mirror, I looked fine, mostly.  Some quick touch-ups would fix
any obvious hair issues, and I wasn't so vain that I needed to always wear
makeup no matter what.  I did look somewhat glowing, though.  Probably, I
assumed, because of the blushing, but Asher didn't need to know that, nor the
reason behind it.

Relax, Jessika,
I told myself.  Breathing in and out, some makeshift Zen meditation, I released
my pent up worries and took in good energy.  That was the idea, at least,
though who could say if I did it right.  Maybe I should look into that?  It
seemed useful and thinking about it served as a good distraction while I
relaxed into normalness.

When I rejoined
Asher downstairs, he was talking on his cell phone.

"Alright,"
he said.  "Yes, of course.  No, it won't be a problem.  Why would it?  I'm
interested to read the reports.  I'll have someone there to take care of
things, too.  Yes.  Yes.  Nice talking with you.  Have a good day."

He hung up the
phone and put it on the kitchen countertop.

"Is
everything alright?" I asked.

"Everything,"
he said, "is great.  I've just learned that my director of public
relations is returning to Landseer Tower today with news and a report.  I can
only hope its good, but I'm sure he has everything under control."

"He?"

"Solomon,"
Asher said.  "Solomon Royce.  He's done good work for me, though I don't
understand his methods exactly.  Always away doing this or that, sparking
interest in company holdings, doing press releases, that kind of thing.  I
couldn't manage any of it for the life of me, so I'm glad to have him, but
sometimes it's confusing since I don't understand most of what his reports are
about."

"Can't you
ask him?"  I'd thought of Asher as something of a genius in the business
world and finding out that there were things he didn't understand was somewhat
jarring.

"Oh, I do. 
It doesn't help.  He gives me explanations and books to read and I've read
them, but the way he puts so much information in reports and discusses
everything in such detail, it's like I need a translator to understand it.  I'd
love to be more active in public relations, at least behind the scenes, but
Solomon has a hold on it so it doesn't matter too much."

"Is that a
good idea?" I said.  "I don't mean to pry, but..."

He shrugged. 
"No, I know what you're getting it.  It's really not a good idea,
generally speaking.  I should at least have some understanding of that side of
my business, but I trust him.  I pay him enough, so I shouldn't have to worry
about him leaving the company any time soon, anyways."  The last part was
apparently a joke.  Asher chuckled.

"Alright,"
I said.  I wasn't a businessperson.  I wasn't even involved in any real
business, public relations or not, so I doubted I could judge anything Asher
did.  But, still, it seemed off to me.  Odd.

"Speaking
of Solomon," Asher said.  "He's actually returning at a bad time.  I
always have someone to take care of his needs in his office, but the woman who
usually does it is on vacation.  I didn't expect him back so soon.  I was
wondering if maybe..."

"Are you
asking me to do it?"

He smiled,
sheepish.  Not really an Asher Landseer look.  More relaxed and comfortable and
endearing.  I smiled back, caught off guard.

"If you
wouldn't mind," he said.  "I'll pay you, of course.  You can come in
with me and Jeremy.  I'll find suitable business attire.  It shouldn't be
anything difficult.  Sit in his office and wait for him, go deliver papers or
pick something up.  Like a secretary, except not exactly."

I nodded. 
"I can do it.  I don't think there will be any problems."

These were, one
might say, famous last words.

"Thanks,"
Asher said, sounding genuine.  "What do you want for breakfast?  I'll make
it.  You can sit back, relax, and enjoy the show."

"The
breakfast show?" I asked, tittering.  My God, was I some crazed school
girl?  Giggling in front of a grown man?  I lowered my eyes, self-conscious.

He strode
towards me and put his hand under my chin.  Gentle, yet firm, he lifted my face
so that I had to look at him.  My eyes moved to the side, denying him, but I
could only do it for so long.  He met my gaze.

"Yes,"
he said, sounding completely serious.  "I shall fry the pans and toast the
eggs like you've never seen before.  In your name, Jessika, for the greater
good."

"Stop
it!" I said, laughing.  I slapped his cheek, playful and light, then
turned my eyes down again.  "I do like pan fries," I added.

"You have a
beautiful smile," he said, but that was it.  Before I could blush or
accept the compliment or say anything at all in return, he squeezed my chin
gently between his fingers, let me go, and walked away.

We finished
breakfast and Jeremy drove us to Landseer Tower.  Asher spent most of the ride
on his phone, talking, asking about this or that, requesting someone find
figures on something and have them brought to him or someone else, or
whatever.  I sat there quietly, trying to get into the right mood for this kind
of thing.

Today, I was a
businesswoman.  Not exactly, and even if I was one I was quite a bit lower in
importance than anyone else.  A temporary position, again, except this time I
had the full backing of the CEO of the company.  For some reason, that made me
feel better.  In actuality it wasn't too much different from when I'd gone to
clean Asher's office, but the fact that before was on initiative from the temp
agency, and now was because of Asher himself, it just felt different to me.

I folded my
hands on my lap, sat perfectly still, and thought about what I would do. 
Should I call him Solomon, or Mr. Royce?  I should ask about that.  Maybe Mr.
Solomon Royce?  Did he want me to get him coffee?  Snacks?  That seemed kind of
lowly, but who knew what his usual assistant did.  I needed to run errands,
fetch papers, and help him out in whatever way necessary, so I should prepare
for the worst.  And, really, there were worse things in life than someone
telling you to get them coffee.  I could handle it.

We arrived,
Asher left.  He told someone about what I would be doing and they showed me to
Solomon's office.  Solomon, they said, was what I should call him.  I thanked
the woman and smiled and then looked around Solomon's office to figure out what
I could do.

He wasn't there
yet, and would arrive when he arrived.  That's what Asher told me.  Solomon did
his own thing most of the time, but he was always prompt in doing his job. 
Just not always in his office, but what did that matter?  For someone like him,
or Asher, or most of the higher ups in this building, I assumed they could
probably do their work wherever they wanted and it wouldn't make too much of a
difference.

Solomon's office
was weird, though.  Nothing like Asher's, first off.  Asher's office had a
comfortable feel to it.  Maybe a little cluttered, with the reading nook and
bookcases and little oddities he had arranged around the room, but it felt cozy
and nice.  Solomon's office was mostly utilitarian.

The room had a
desk with a large window behind it, shaded.  One high-back chair sat behind the
desk, with a regular office chair in front of it for visitors.  A table off to
the side with books on it, sorted neatly in stacks.  Then a leather couch, a
mirror behind that, and a shaded lamp in one corner.

The couch looked
nice enough.  I sat on it to test it out, and it felt plush.  Cold, though,
like no one ever sat on it, but then again, no one had sat there in awhile,
right?  Solomon had gone on a business trip to oversee some things, and his
assistant was on vacation, so no one had any reason to use this room for at
least the past couple of weeks.

I bounced on the
couch, thinking to myself.  With time to spare, I crept over to the lamp. 
Crawling across the couch on all fours, reaching up to switch the lamp on, I
didn't expect what came next.

As soon as my
hand grazed the lamp switch, hidden beneath the shade, a man cleared his throat
behind me.  Startled, I jumped forward and fell across the arm of the couch. 
My stomach landed on the arm and my feet slipped on the smooth leather,
flailing out and leaving me in a mess.

"Excuse
me," the man said.  I looked over my shoulder at him.  "You aren't
Daphne."

He was looking
at me!  Not just looking at me, but something more.  I don't know why, but I
felt a cold chill creep through my body as his eyes lingered on me.  From my
heels to my calves to the skirt of the dress that Asher found for me.  Not
typical business attire, but it was the best he could find on short notice and
he said it would be fine.  Who was I to argue with him?

The man followed
the curves of my legs up to my ass, raising a brow at the patterned red, beige,
and white stripes on my black dress.  His eyes went higher, peeking at my back
and my solid black suit jacket, then lower, to the side, staring at the curves
of my breasts pressed against the arm of the couch.  And, finally, to my face,
where he leered at me with the most indecent smirk I'd ever seen.

"No,"
I said, feeling anxious.  Something dropped into the pit of my stomach, a huge
lump, and I couldn't get rid of it.  "Asher asked me to help you today. 
Daphne's on vacation."

"Asher?"
he asked.

"Sorry. 
Mr. Landseer.  You're Solomon, right?"  As soon as I said it, I doubted
the earlier woman's advice.  "I mean, Mr. Royce?  Um..."

"Solomon
will be fine," he said.

I gulped. 
"Yes, sir."

He flashed me a
wicked grin.  "Sir is fine, too.  What's your name?"

"Jessika,"
I whispered.  I felt so uncomfortable, and belatedly realized I was still
draped across his office couch like some provocative, decorative blanket.  I
tried to fix myself, to at least move into a sitting position, but my shoe's
heel was stuck.  I pushed my other foot against the couch, trying to free
myself, but it didn't help.

Solomon
sauntered over to me and assessed the situation.  Without warning, he pried my
foot loose and then picked me up as if I were some object to be rearranged. 
Flipping me over, he dropped me onto the couch.  I landed on my back with a
thud, head plopping against the couch's cushioned arm, feet kicking out towards
the opposite couch arm.

"There,"
he said.

I tried to thank
him, or at least I intended on thanking him. I did up until he placed his knee
between my legs and lowered himself on top of me.  Not entirely, but he had one
leg between my thighs and a hand beside my arm, propping him up right above
me.  He stared at me, lascivious, a smirk on his face.

"Did Asher
tell you that you were to do anything I required?" he asked. 
"Absolutely anything I found necessary?"

I gulped and
nodded my head.  "Yes, he did, but..."

Solomon's knee
shifted and he pressed it up against me harshly.  The top of his thigh smashed
against the center of my body, pushing my skirt up and revealing my pantyhose
covered thighs.  He ground his knee against my crotch and I squirmed hard
against him, completely caught off guard.

"Anything,"
he said.  "And what I need right now is..."

"No,"
I whimpered.

"What did
you say to me?" he asked.  To reinforce the anger in his voice, he grabbed
my face with his free hand.  His fingers squeezed against my cheek and he
forced me to look at him.

"I..." 
I tried to talk but it was difficult.  I was scared and worried and this wasn't
at all like any time with Asher.  With Asher I felt—and I don't know why I
felt this—safer.  Asher looked angry sometimes, but he wasn't really angry. 
He wouldn't hurt me, and he wouldn't do anything to make me upset.  On the
contrary, Solomon looked full of rage.

He pressed his
knee against me harder and moved a hand towards my breasts.  He squeezed them
roughly above my dress and jacket and looked at me with a long, hard glare. 
When I didn't say anything(when I couldn't say anything, I was so scared), he
released my cheeks and moved his hand lower.  Past my chest, towards my
stomach, to the hem of my dress.  He grabbed at the skirt and wrenched it up,
revealing my pantyhose covered crotch.  His fingers looped into the waistband
of my pantyhose, by the center of my stomach.  Cold, rough fingers, reaching
lower.  Fingers that were going to touch my slit and...