At His Service: The Billionaire's Beck and Call (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

At His
Service (The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 1)

By Delilah Fawkes

I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose and
sighed as I stared at the papers I’d dropped. This was shaping up to be the worst
day ever, and it was only my second day on the job. First, I’d lost a contact
and had to break out my clunky emergency glasses, then the CEO’s assistant
called in sick before the biggest stockholder meeting of the year.

Of course, they’d called me in to assist, even
though she was only the front desk receptionist.

If all Mr.
Drake wants me to do is answer phones, I’ve got this in the bag
. I rolled
my eyes, knowing it couldn’t possibly be that easy.

I hadn’t met Chase Drake yet, billionaire CEO of
Drake & Smith, but I’d heard whispered rumors about him over lunch. Words
like “terrifying” and “gorgeous” were thrown around, along with talk of all the
other executive assistants that quit unexpectedly that year. Apparently, he was
impossible to please.

I dropped to my knees, hurriedly gathering the
papers outside of the executive offices.
This
is no way to make a first impression, Isabeau! Get it together or you won’t
last the week.
The last thing I needed was for the head honcho to see me
like this.

A black, Italian leather shoe came down an inch
from my hand. I froze, still reaching for the spreadsheet now trapped under the
large foot in front of me. It was attached to a leg clad in an impeccably cut
suit, and as I ran my eyes upward, I tried not to tremble. A man with wavy
blonde hair and a cool green gaze stared down at me, his cruel mouth twisted
into a smirk.

“Ms. Willcox, I presume?”

I tried to push the chestnut
strands of hair that had fallen over my eyes back into my bun, but it was no
good. I was a hot mess, kneeling on the carpet in a J.C. Penney blouse and
skirt.

“Y-yes?”

He reached down and offered his hand, and my mouth
suddenly went very,
very
dry. I’m
talking Sahara Desert dry. Something about the way he looked at me sent shivers
down my spine, like he was sizing me up. Like I was a deer, and he was a lion,
looking for his next meal.

I put my hand in his, and let him pull me to my
feet. My hand felt tiny in his warm grasp, and I felt a jolt of electricity at
the touch.

“Chase Drake,” he said softly, his low voice
making my heart skip a beat. “So, you’re the one serving me today?”

Serving him?
It felt like an odd way to put it, but hey, who was I to correct the boss?

“I guess so, Sir.”

“You guess?”

I realized my hand was still in his, and quickly
drew it back. “Ms. Johnson told me you needed an assistant for the meeting?”

I bit my lip, suddenly uncertain. His piercing eyes
were hard to look directly into. I felt like I was being tested, or maybe that
I was in the wrong place altogether.

“Keep your chin up, girl. My assistant must be
cool, confident and collected, not a timid little mouse.”

My mouth dropped open. A mouse? He doesn’t even
know me! I raised my chin defiantly, straightening up to my full height.

“Yes, Sir.”

His lips twitched into a half smile. “Very good.”

I nodded, and started walking toward the boardroom,
when he grabbed my wrist, making me gasp. He drew me close until we were almost
nose to nose.

“Remember that you represent
me
in there. Clean yourself up before we begin. And Ms. Willcox?”

“Y-yes?”

“Don’t let me down.”

I tried hard not to tremble, even though he’d
pulled me so close. He smelled clean like rainwater, but his hot breath on my
face made me avert my eyes. Is this how he always acted? So demanding and
confrontational?

“Will do, Boss.”

I snatched my wrist away and moved quickly down
the hall to the ladies room. I could feel his gaze on my back until the door
closed behind me. When it clicked shut, I leaned back against it, and let out a
deep breath.

What an
asshole.

I was beginning to wonder if the executive
assistant was really sick, or if she was just sick of his domineering bullshit.
But, despite my irritation, my wrist tingled where he’d held me, and I couldn’t
stop thinking about those eyes of his, that strong jaw… and how I wanted to run
my hands through that gorgeous wavy hair of his.

“Get over it, Isa. Never
gonna happen,” I muttered to myself.

Whoa. Where
did
that
come from?

I mean, sure, he was amazing looking, and from the
moment his eyes met mine, I felt a magnetism radiating off him, drawing me to
him, but that didn’t mean I was interested. Far from it, after the way he’d
just spoken to me.

I ran my hands under the sink and slicked my hair
back, redoing my bun as best I could at the nape of my neck. My hair was always
unruly and wild. I just hoped it would stay put for the next hour. I retouched
my light makeup, and looked at myself in the mirror.

It would have to do.

I took a deep breath, and readied myself to face
Mr. Drake.

***

The meeting went off without a hitch. I sat next
to the CEO running his slides as he presented to the table full of crusty old men.
Standing before them, speaking so smoothly and confidently, the juxtoposition
of his youth and power against the rest of them was not lost on me. He moved
with the kind of grace and power you’d expect of royalty, commanding the
attention and respect of everyone in the room.

At the end, as the board members filed out into
the hallway, he came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. I flinched
beneath his touch.

“Meet me in my office in half an hour.”

I pursed my lips, a spike of fear coursing through
me. Had I done something wrong? Was I getting fired? It would officially be the
shortest temp job ever. What would my friends say when they heard I’d gotten
canned on my second day?

“Yes, Sir,” I squeaked.

He swept out of the room, and I heard him laughing
and joking with the other men as they moved down the hall. I put my head down
and packed up his notes and laptop, trying to get my shit together as I worked.

Calm down,
Isa. What will be, will be.

I pictured those cool eyes staring at me as he
mouthed the words “We’re letting you go,” and felt a shiver creep down my
spine. For some reason, the look of disappointment I pictured on his handsome
face was the worst part.

***

I rapped on the mahogany door at the end of the
executive wing, and tried to steady my breathing.

“Come in.”

“Here goes nothing,” I whispered, and entered the
office, trying to hold my chin high.

Mr. Drake looked up at me, his green eyes intense,
but the emotion behind them unreadable. Was he angry with me? Had I embarassed
him somehow? I was so inexperienced, I was positive it wasn’t good.

“Ms. Willcox, come here.”

I smoothed my hands over my skirt and took a few
steps toward the chairs in front of his desk.

“Did I say you could sit there? Come here. To me.”

I paused, shifting uncomfortably on my feet.

“Are you deaf? I said come
here
.”

His sharp tone sent a shiver down my spine. I set
my jaw and walked around the desk until I was just inches away from him. He
spun in his chair toward me slowly and leaned back, a smirk playing over his
handsome face. For a long moment, he just looked me over, appraising me, then staring
into my eyes to see if I would look away, I suppose.

I didn’t.

“Take a seat here. On the desk.”

His voice was a low whisper, his eyes intense.

I hesitated the briefest of moments, but then a
little voice inside my head said
He’s
messing with you. He wants to see if you’re afraid.
I glared back at him. I
needed to show him he didn’t intimidate me, no matter how rich and powerful he
was.

I hopped up on the edge of his desk, and crossed
my bare legs demurely. His eyes roamed over my exposed skin, stopping at my hem
line, before moving up my body to my breasts, straining beneath my blouse. I
tried to keep my breathing steady, but I felt so vulnerable this close to him,
especially when he looked at me like that.

“What do you know about me, Isabeau?”

He leaned forward, and I forced myself to stay
still instead of shying away. He was so close that I could smell the subtle
notes of his cologne: musk and wood with a hint of leather.

“My apologies…
 
May I call you Isabeau?” He smiled up at me,
dazzling me for a moment.

“Of course.” My voice sounded high and breathy. I
gripped the edge of his desk, trying not to fidget.

“Good. What have you heard about me, Isabeau? What
do you really know about me?”

What did he want me to say? That everyone said he
was an ogre? Or that they all wanted to sleep with him anyway?

“I…”

“Go on. You won’t hurt my feelings.”

He was still smiling, slight dimples visible in
both cheeks. The sight was destracting, to say the least.

“I know that you’re the youngest CEO and partner
in the company’s history, and I know that you earned the spot by working your
way up after graduate school instead of using your inheritance as a crutch.”

“Everyone knows that. What do you
know
about me? The real stuff. None of
this press release bullshit.”

I looked down at my hands, anything not to have to
look up at his face so close to me.

“Um. People say… they say that you’re scary. And
that your assistants don’t last long.”

He laughed, a deep, warm sound that seemed to fill
up the office. I glanced up to see him smirking at me. I relaxed my grip on the
desk a little. Maybe I wasn’t being fired after all.

“What else do they say?”

Oh, God. He
can’t possibly want me to tell him everything. Does he?
The look on his
face confirmed that he did. It was clear by the way he looked at me that I
wasn’t leaving this office until I gave him exactly what he wanted.

“They say. Um… They say that you’re very, uh, good
looking… and impossible to please.”

“Oh they do, do they?” He sat back, and tented his
fingers beneath his chin. “Well, do you agree with them? Do you think I’m
scary, handsome and woefully unsatisfied?”

My mouth dropped open, and I quickly closed it
with a snap.

“Yes. I mean,
no!
I mean, I don’t know…”

He stood, then, and leaned in close, towering over
me. “You were right the first time.”

Anxiety coursed through me, but I have to admit,
being this close to him, smelling his scent and feeling the heat radiating off
his body, it made me wonder what it would be like to be in his arms. To be his.
To be owned by him…

His face was almost touching mine when he whispered
to me. “I
am
unsatisfied, Isabeau. I
want you to be my new assistant. Will you do that for me? Will you be at my
beck and call?”

My breath left me as his words sunk in. When I
finally regained it, I felt like I was trembling from head to toe.
His beck and call.

“Wh-what about your old assistant?”

Mr. Drake leaned back again and took my chin in
his hand, forcing my eyes to his. “What about her? I want
you
.”

His touch on my skin was electric.
 
Are we
still talking about business?

“Yes, Mr. Drake.”

His thumb stroked my cheek for the briefest of moments,
and then he released me, breathless, and wondering what I’d just agreed to.

“Very good, Isabeau. I’ll expect you here at 8
a.m. tomorrow, in my office, ready to work. Don’t be late.”

He turned away, effectively dismissing me. I
hopped down off the desk and quickly made for the door. I didn’t want to give
him time to change his mind.

“And Isabeau?”

I turned back, my hand on the knob. “Yes, Mr.
Drake?”

“I don’t tolerate sloppy work. Disappoint me, and
there will be consequences.”

I blushed, and nodded, then closed the door behind
me.

What had I
gotten myself into?

***

“Isabeau! Get in here, now!”

I jumped in my seat in front of the big, mahogany
doors, spilling my cup of ramen noodles onto my blouse.

“Shit! Shit, shit,
shit.
” If there was one thing Mr. Drake hated, it was sloppiness,
and here I was dripping with cheap soup stock. My silk was stained, the
material sticking to the tops of my breasts.

“By now, I meant immediately, Isabeau! Not at your
personal convenience.”

I swore again under my breath, and entered his
office. Maybe a miracle would occur, and he wouldn’t notice. Please, God, have
mercy!

“Sit,” he commanded.

I moved toward the chairs once again, but he
stared at me, frowing, until I circled the desk and perched on the edge.

“Yes, Mr. Drake?”

“What took you so long? I need you to type these
notes up for me, and…”

He stopped, sniffing the air. He leaned in, and to
my horror, plucked a long, wavy noodle out of my cleavage. I bit my lip, tears
of embarassment burning behind my eyes.

I had to keep it together. It probably wasn’t the
end of the world, even though it felt like it, sitting here in front of my
boss, who could have been a GQ model, shaking with nerves, and dripping with
soup.

“Oh, my dear,” he said, placing it into his
trashcan like it was a dead spider. “This is not good at all. I don’t like
this. One. Little.
Bit
.”

He was out of his chair in a flash, and before I
could stop him, his hands were on my blouse, undoing my buttons with speed and
precision.