The Boss's Pampered Secretary

I still vividly recall how much it felt when Jocelyn passed away, and I don't want to let anything similar to occur once again. Since then, all the women I've fucked have been after me for my money, and even at this early stage, I can tell Mary isn't one of them. She may not be as foolish or naive as the other twenty-two-year-olds in the world, but I am also aware that she is not the kind to engage in sex without being at least somewhat touched. It won't be simple, but all I have to do is find a way to perceive Mary only as my secretary. Mary three years later In addition to being tremendously enjoyable to spend out with, they are also Erice and never catty. But what happens when erotica writers decide they need to give you a surprise birthday party? "I believe I'm returning home-" Being the devoted best friend that she is, Francesca just starts laughing as her mentor Elaine issues a directive. "Young lady, stop right there!" I'd want to ignore the older lady, but I was brought up by an old-fashioned aunt who instilled in me the value of respecting the elderly, so I grudgingly turn around to see that dozens of guys are once again glaring at...me. Have compassion, Lord. "Do you know how much I paid for this place to be rented?" Elaine shouts. My brows crease. Since it's peak hour on a weekday and this is the rooftop pool of a five-star hotel, I'd say-- "That was a rhetorical question," the elderly man says. My point is that I put a lot of effort into making this happen. "What is this exactly?" I wretchedly inquire. You recognize those guys, right? "Yes, I did see them." Since the most of them are wearing swimsuits, I'd prefer not to glance in their direction again. Elaine blusters, "I hired a speed dating agency for this event, and all thirty of them are here to ask you out." My mouth drops. Alice gives Francesca a nod. "You can take her to change right now." I exclaim, "But--" "It's time for you to spread your legs--" "Wings," he said. The malicious sparkle in Alice's eyes tells me she meant what she said the first time, despite the fact that she corrects herself quickly. Sara Lauren, you're already 26 years old, she remarks arrogantly. The moment has come for you to find a partner. "But I don't want a boyfriend," I object. The question "Why not?" I'm already in love, that's why! That's also true, but I also realize that if I spoke it out loud, Alice and Francesca would simply keep asking me who I'm in love with. I shrug and reply clumsily, "Just because." Alice averts her gaze. Is that the best you can manage? I firmly state, "My motives are irrelevant. The fact that I don't--is what counts. My companion is told by the elder lady to "take her away, Che-Che." "Alice, hurry up!" I keep saying how absurd this is all, but my best friend-turned-traitors simply begins taking me to a private cabana. Just make her laugh, Francesca implores. She made an extra effort to make this for you, I must say. I counter, "I really do appreciate her efforts, but isn't this too much?" "When Alice learned that you were still a virgin, she was just incredibly worried-" "Che-Che!" Despite the fact that the elder lady is like a second mother to both Francesca and me, I've never spoken to Alice about my V-card. The question is, "You told her, didn't you?" Francesca grinned sheepishly. Sorry, that accidentally slipped. "Yeah, that's right!" How did discussing another woman's virginity "slip" into conversation? My buddy makes an apologies gesture by clapping her hands together. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. What about those guys? I awkwardly interrupt her and inquire. Do not inform me that they are also aware of-please. The expression on the face of my best buddy tells it all. "Oh, my God." I don't tend to use exclamation points every few lines, but when I consider that all of those folks now know that I have no experience with sex, I suddenly find myself saying, "Oh my God." Winces Francesca. "Sorry." I moan, "This is going to be the end of me." It's not necessary, Francesca replies abruptly. I squint my eyes at her and say, "I mean, it's just five minutes--" "What do you mean, five minutes?" My buddy explains, "Each man gets five minutes to talk you up. "So, five minutes, thirty guys-" I'm already calculating the numbers in my head as Francesca pulls out her phone, and the result makes me sigh once again. Che-Che, two and a half hours! That's 150 minutes of having to speak with males. But after tucking her phone back into her shorts' pocket, Lucia just stares at me in astonishment. "I always overlook how intelligent you are." "Not the point here," I snarl. Lucia exhorts, "Let's just think positive." "Don't you think it would be better if we could finish this up sooner?" I don't want, however. When I observe Lucia removing a variety of recently acquired swimwear from one of the cabana's built-in cupboards, I had to stop talking. What is it used for? Lucia smiles. They're all so lovely, aren't they? They were purchased for you by Alice. I stare in fear at her. "She must have spent a fortune on them!" Lucia gives me a startled expression. "Do you know the brands?" "I used to purchase-" When I realize who I'm speaking to, my mouth immediately closes, but it's too late. Crossing her arms across her chest, Lucia. Was what I heard accurate? You already made this purchase? "For myself," I immediately lie. "Oh, really?" you ask. Lucia's grin is a little too endearing. I make a beeline for the assortment of swimsuits Lucia has arranged on the bench. "Should I put one of these on?" Are you attempting to alter the topic? I ignore what she says and seize the first one-piece I come across. I airily say, "Off to change," but as soon as I step inside one of the cubicles, I quickly pull out my phone and send a text to Mike, who is now both my employer and the guy who swept my best friend off her feet in a passionate relationship. Just to let you know, I sort of unintentionally said to Lucia that I used to purchase swimwear for your previous mistresses. Me: I'm sending you our address in case you want to make a scene. I pressed Send and, after a little pause, I said, "Sir." I'm not sure whether he'll arrive in time, but whatever. My superiors are now in a crucial meeting with the Emir Sheikh of Ramil and his American queen. I convince myself that I tried my best. It's not like I intended to reveal his history to his wife. Right? When I exit the changing room, Lucia still seems eager to question me about Mikeolaas, but I have already left the cabana to feed the wolves and submit to Alice's plans before she can even speak. I return, I reply glumly. Alice laughs. "Stop pretending you're about to undergo torture." But this is torment, I mumble to myself. Oh, quiet. I'll request that the agency send another thirty this way if you keep behaving like a baby. Since I know Alice isn't the kind to pull a fast one, I swiftly reply, "Now that I've had time to think about it, you're right, this isn't torture, and I'm so ready to find the love of my life among them." "Ha!" However, Alice continues to chuckle, and I sigh in relief in the background. Alice grabs my hand, and I obediently comply as she forces me to sit on a throne that seems to have been plucked off the set of a beauty pageant. They'll approach you one at a time, and you may chat about whatever you like, Alice says. You don't even have to keep track of their names. You may easily call them out on video since the whole event is being recorded. When Lucia sees me start to object, she looks across at me and shakes her head in caution. Just go along with it, she says. I hunch my shoulders. Oh, okay. Alice is well-intentioned, but I need to keep in mind that she was the one who gave me the greatest support when my aunt passed away from a heart attack four years ago. So long as this is how I can make amends to her. Five minutes, thirty guys. That's not so horrible, is it?