His Deepest Desire (BBW Domination Billionaire Erotica) by Simone Beatrix Page A

together, and I felt a twinge of nostalgia. He cracked a smile, and despite myself, I blushed.
    “Oh yes. I’m not listed on the directory because it makes my line of work a bit easier. I don’t need irritated prosecutors coming to give me and my receptionist hell.” He smiled, and let go of my hand. “Please sit, Ms. Scott,” he said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. I sat without taking my eyes off of him, not being able to understand why. He had some kind of grip on me.
    “You brought an extra copy of your resume? I seem to have lost the one you emailed me...” he held his hand out, waiting for it.
    I had, thankfully, brought an extra copy. I produced it, handing it to him. He rubbed it between his fingers. “Mmm, linen, my favorite.” His eyes sparkled.
    I laughed, relaxing back in my chair a bit. “It’s funny, I thought this was going to be a lot more stressful.”
    “Oh no, I try to make sure all my interviews are very relaxed. Just don’t tell anyone, I don’t want to ruin my reputation.” He winked at me.
    I nodded, “Of course.”
    “Okay, let’s take a look at this guy again...” he glanced over the resume, mumbling to himself as he read through it. I watched his finger trace the page. I thought about it for a second, and looked to see if he had a wedding ring. He didn’t.
    The air was still and quiet in the office, so the only things I could hear was the sound of our breathing, light and rapid. I could feel my heart racing, nervousness constricting it. I thought I was calm? I looked at him, studying his jawline, perfectly accented by some sexy stubble. As his finger moved up the page, his sleeve pulled back, and I spotted the tendril of a tattoo peek out from his wrist. A tattoo? Seems pretty risqué for a high level executive...
    “According to your resume, you’ve never been a receptionist before, why’d you suddenly decide to take up that career?” His blue eyes glanced up from the resume he was holding, catching me off guard. I was leaning forward, trying to get a better look at his tattoo.
    He saw my gaze, wordlessly pulling his sleeve down. He clasped his hands together, interlacing his fingers. He leaned back, his chair slightly reclining.
    I nervously cleared my throat. “Well, I thought that it might be an interesting change of pace. I’ve always enjoyed organizing things, I was known as the horrible worry-wart in college after all.”
    “College?” He double-checked the resume, “At University of Washington? It says your major was Psychology. Why aren’t you going to graduate school?”
    “I’m still thinking that one over, I’m not sure if I’m ready for that move just yet.”
    “Well I’m going to be honest with you Ms. Scott. You’re overqualified. I can’t hire you with a clean conscious.  You’d be making peanuts compared to what you could be making anywhere else.”
    I picked at my nails, “Please Mr. Reeves, give me a chance, I won’t make a fuss about it.”
    “Hmm, well,” he mulled over his answer for a moment, his gaze wandering over my body. I felt self-conscious, never being especially sought after, since I wasn’t rail-skinny like some women. His gaze was almost penetrating, and not altogether unwanted. I blushed again, trying to look away. I dug my stare into the desk.
    “I’ll give you a chance then, Ms. Scott.” He stood, holding out his hand, “Congratulations. Your salary starts at $42 grand a year, but we’ll see what we can do to get that bumped up.”
    “$42 grand? Wow, I - I don’t know what to say...”
    “Say, ‘Thank you,’” he smiled. I nodded.
    “Thank you.” I stood and shook his hand.
    “You can start today if you’re able, the desk out there is yours to use,” he opened one of his drawers, “Ah, and here’s the login information for your account. If anyone comes in, just send them in, I don’t have any appointments to get in the way today.”
    I thanked him again, and he released my hand. I left,