Page 6 of Texting The CEO

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Instead of kicking myself for missing his exit, I head home without a word to anyone else. There’s a dinner I have to get ready for, and luckily for me, I don’t live far from the office or the restaurant.

Dalia’s sitting on the couch in sweats, with her dark brown hair falling around her shoulders as she flips from one video to the next on the TV.

“I’m going to kill you. You know that right?” My sarcasm doesn’t even garner a glance over her shoulder.

Dalia does manage a giggle as I rush past her to get ready. “Where are you going? I ordered Chinese for us.”

“I’m going to The Pinnacle to meet my new temporary boss.” I hop in the shower with an obscene amount of speed and focus that I ignore the sound of Dalia rummaging through my closet. Once I emerge fresh and clean, I find Dalia grinning from ear to ear as she tosses a slinky black dress onto my bed and darts off to return with a pair of her six-inch high heel shoes.

“The Pinnacle is swanky, Den,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “Is this going to add to the rumors about why Mr. Daniels can’t keep an assistant?”

I shrug. “I have no idea, but I’m going to go because he demanded I be there.”

“Demanded?” She nods with approval as I pull on the dress and wriggle a bit to make sure it sits well on my slender hips. Dalia turns me to face her and makes quick work of my makeup.

A soft giggle escapes my lips. “I think he’s the one, Doll.”

“The one? Thee one?”

I nod.

She smiles and says, “It’s about damn time. It only gets better from here. You’ll see.”

Dalia leaves me to finish getting ready. Alone with thoughts of passions unfurling, toe-curling bliss delivered by stroke after stroke from a billionaire CEO who I only met this morning.

A car arrives, and I’m shuttled to one of the nicest restaurants in the city. The valet opens the door, and once I give the host my name, she smiles and leads me through the dimly lit dining area. She brings me to a private room somewhere behind the kitchen where Declan Daniels is waiting for me.

Candles are lit and he stands to pull out a chair for me to sit. My nerves are firing on every cylinder, ready to explode with anticipation. The thuds of my heart against my chest make me feel like it’s going to explode outward and land on the table.

Declan Daniels is the man I want to give my virginity to, and he doesn’t even know it. Power radiates from him. Servers bring in wine, glasses, and an appetizer, but my stomach is flipping over this moment.

What will he say when I tell him?

He doesn’t waste time with small talk, getting right into his reasons for this meeting. “I want you to do the very best you can with such short notice. Being my assistant isn’t an easy task. I’m demanding but fair. I’ve allowed you an entire business day to poke around. Tell me what you’ve learned.”

“What do you mean? Like depreciation and accounts receivable?” I ask him.

“I’ve told you that I have a spy on my hands. It occurred to me that your innocence is going to work well for me to flush them out.”

“So I won’t be your assistant?” I ask him, curiosity pulling me into his every word.

“You’re going to be my eyes and ears for a while. I’m going to hire you as my full-time assistant, but you’ll have to go through the same training as all the others.”

“What does that mean?”

His expression is calculating as he tells me, “That means you’re going to follow my instructions to the letter.”



“And if I don’t?” Denise’s question is defiant, reminding me of a child ready to throw a tantrum if they don’t get their way.

“Then our dinner is over, and I’ll have an actual temp sent to me tomorrow morning.”

The subtle change in her eyes, a flash of worry, makes her shift in her seat. She adjusts herself to appear more relaxed, taking a sip of wine from the glass and licking those delectable lips.

A part of me wishes she puts up a fight and says no. This way I won’t have any qualms bending her over this table and fucking her so loud the patrons will hear.

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