"You look... Wrecked," my best friend said the second I closed the door behind me. Sighing, I kicked off my shoes and fell down beside her on the couch. "Must've been one hell of a meeting." She grabbed the remote off the table, waking up Miss Kitten who was asleep on her lap, and pressed the pause button.
"Two and a half hours," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Two and a half hours of Joe trying to convince this small fitness representatives that they should hand their company over to Jonas Inc. instead of some other company. It was torture."
"Joe?" Carrie asked, eyebrows pushed together. She stared at me while her fingers curled through Miss Kitten's fur, making her purr where she lay. "You're on first name basis with him already?" She chuckled lightly but then suddenly got serious again as she reached out to brush my hair behind my shoulder. "Wait," she said, running a finger over my skin. I winced lightly. "Is that– oh my God, Belle, is that a hickey?"
When I didn't immediately answer, she gasped and slapped my shoulder playfully. "Oh my God it is! Belle did you, did you do him?!"
I knew there was no point in lying to her because I was sure by now it was written all over my face, so I decided to give her what she wanted. I smiled at her while I bit down on my bottom lip. "I did," I squealed, nodding my head slowly.
"Okay, you have to tell me everything!"
"Wait where, where's Brody?" I asked, suddenly noticing her boyfriend was nowhere in sight even though I knew he was gonna spend the weekend here.
"He's in the shower. Don't change the subject. Spill girl."
"First," I started, eyeing her glass of wine on the coffee table, "I want one of those."
Carrie immediately jumped up from the couch after putting her kitten on the ground. She looked up at Carrie and meowed at her in confusion. "Already on it! Start talking!" She said while I heard her open the fridge and pull out a glass to get me some wine.
"Okay, fine," I sighed. "It was, well obviously we'd been stuck in a conference room for over two hours. After he let the people from Go Fit out, we finished the Chinese we'd ordered during the meeting and–"
"And you fucked his hot ass on the conference room table?" Carrie asked as she handed my glass of wine to me and grabbed her own off the table.
"No." I took a sip from my wine. "We grabbed our stuff and we headed out. We were apparently the only two people left in the building. And when we got into the elevator it... Froze. It stopped a couple seconds after it started its descend. Joe called security and it turned out they were doing maintenance on the elevators or something and they shut them all down. Even the cameras were turned off... It just, well so there we were in an elevator somewhere between I don't know, sixth and seventh floor and–"
"Shit," Carrie breathed.
"And it just, it just... I don't know we were in that tiny little space and he just, well we both caved. He remembered me from last week, Carrie. He remembered me. He called me by the nickname he gave me that night at Trixx. And oh my God it was insane. It was, it was heaven."
"Looks like you joined the mile high club," my best friend said with a wink as she took another sip from her wine.
"Not exactly a plane, Care. Or mile high." I snorted and shook my head.
"I am so proud of you, Belle. Oh my God you're finally letting out the vixen I always knew was inside you. Thank God Wayne is out of the picture. He was only holding you back. Sexually and well, for everything really."
Sighing, I twirled my glass around in my hands. "Actually he's not as much out of the picture as I'd like."
"What?" Carrie blinked a me. "What do you mean?"
"Well, he came around the office a couple days ago. He works for this magazine and he had an appointment with Joe," I explained, "he needs to host an event to launch the new fall issue of the magazine and he was looking for a Jonas Inc. owned venue. And since Joe is in charge of those things, Wayne had to go see him. He decided he wanted one of the venues we suggested."
"And you never told me because?" She picked up her kitten and placed her back on her lap. Miss Kitten immediately started purring while Carrie scratched behind her ears. "Belle, this is not the kind of thing you should hide from me."
"What does it even matter? Wayne and I are done. I finished that chapter a long time ago. But, I'm not so sure he did." Carrie looked at me, confusion written all over her face. "He asked me out on a date while he confirmed the venue. And I accidentally didn't delete that part when I forwarded the confirmation to Joe so he knows Wayne asked me out. And then he came and told me that it would be stupid to get involved with a client because if it goes wrong we might lose them but that was after I already told Wayne to go fuck himself and now I don't exactly think that was the wisest thing to do either."
With a sigh, I got up to grab the bottle of wine. I topped off my own glass as well as Carrie's and decided to just leave the bottle on the coffee table. I had a feeling we'd be needing this whole thing tonight. Once I had taken my seat again, I took a long sip from the wine.
"I can't believe he even asked you out in the first place," Carrie laughed.
"Yeah well, what's done is done, right? I drafted a contract and sent it to the legal department for completion. Wayne should contact us on Monday to set up a meeting to finalize the deal." When I'd called his office this afternoon to find a date for the meeting, his secretary told me he'd taken the afternoon off and she promised she'd make him get back to us after the weekend.
"Well that just complicates things a whole lot more. You're sleeping with your boss and your ex-boyfriend is putting the moves on you again while working together with the guy you're currently sleeping with." Her eyes went wide as she thought about everything. It was a pretty messed up situation. And all of that after only one week of work!
I leaned back in the couch and sighed again, closing my eyes. "I'm not sleeping with Joe, Care. It just happened... And I don't think it will happen again. We got rid of the sexual tension and now we gotta move on."
Carrie snorted. "You really believe that? You really believe you're gonna stay away from Joe and he's gonna stay away from you after that hot session in the elevator? Nu-uh honey. This was only the beginning. You're in for one hot office affair, Belle."
She was right. I had no idea if I would be able to stay away from Joe. And I had a feeling that hot, quick fuck in the elevator wouldn't be the last hot fuck we'd have.
It was eight thirty on Saturday morning when my phone started ringing. “Hello?” I spoke groggily into the receiver. When the phone kept ringing, I realized it was the iPhone Mr. Jonas had given me that was disturbing my sleep. Groaning, I got up from the bed and fished it out of my bag. “Belle Ryan,” I said, trying to sound as professional as I could this early on a Saturday morning though I’m sure I didn’t exactly succeed in hiding how tired I was.
“Miss Ryan,” he replied, “I need you to come down to my condo right now.”
“Right- right now? Mr. Jonas, it’s a Saturday.” Morning.
“I understand, Miss Ryan. But I’m afraid I have an assignment for you. My housekeeper brought dry cleaning in this morning when she arrived. As I explained before this will be one of your tasks, so I need you here to take care of that.”
Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair. “No problem, Mr. Jonas. Just give me a few minutes to–”
“Right now, Miss Ryan.” He hung up the phone without giving me a chance to protest. A few seconds later, the fancy smartphone beeped and vibrated in my hand, signaling I had a new text message. He’d sent me his address.
Deciding it was best to obey his orders, I quickly grabbed my bag and a cardigan, pulled my hair up into a messy ponytail and headed out of my bedroom. While I looked up directions to his place, I slipped my feet quickly into a pair of ballet flats. Once I had directions, I scribbled down a note for Carrie and headed out the door. I was still dressed in my pajamas, but they were a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top which could easily be considered a gym outfit.
Thankfully, his condo was only a couple blocks away from where I lived, so I didn’t need to take a cab or the subway. It was a nice twenty-minute walk and by the time I reached his building, I was fully awake and energized. I pressed the button with his name on it and the door immediately buzzed open. Slightly confused (didn’t people usually greet their guests through the intercom?), I pushed open the door and entered the big entrance hall.
I stepped inside the elevator and searched for his nameplate next to the buttons indicating the floors. He lived on the top floor. The ride up took approximately five seconds and when I stepped out of the car, Mr. Jonas just exited his apartment. “Miss Ryan,” he said with a smile when he saw me
“Mr. Jonas,” I greeted with a smile of my own, “good morning.”
“I apologize, Miss Ryan, but I have to step out real quick. Dana will explain everything to you though.” He squeezed my arm real quick before catching the elevator before the doors closed. I gave him one last smile as the doors closed and stepped inside his apartment.
“Ah you must be Miss Ryan!” a small middle-aged woman with a thick French accent said when she saw me walk inside.
“You must be Dana.” I reached out my hand for her to shake. “You’re French?”
“Ah, oui de Paris. Come, come, Miss Ryan.” She ushered me inside and sat me down on the breakfast bar in the huge open kitchen.
Mr. Jonas’ apartment was exactly as I had imagined an important business man’s apartment to be like. Sleek and modern, large windows, lots of open spaces and modern art on the walls. He also seemed to have a large terrace attached. A staircase integrated completely into the wall led up to a platform that seemed to be his bedroom.
“You can call me Belle,” I said to Dana as she prepared a glass of fresh orange juice for me.
“C’est vrai, you are very pretty.” Smiling, she handed me the glass.
I laughed softly as I accepted the drink. “No that’s, it’s my name. Belle, it’s my first name.”
“I know,” she laughed. “But you are très belle.”
“Well I, uh, thank you.” I smiled bashfully and quickly took a sip from my orange juice to try and hide the fact that she’d made me blush. “This is really good.” I pointed to the glass as I set it down on the counter. “Thank you. But I’m afraid I’m not here for breakfast. I’m here to take care of Mr. Jonas’ dry cleaning.”
Dana sighed and shook her head. “Always working that one. Il a besoin d’une femme. But Ellie… Désastre.”
I nearly choked on the orange juice. “You knew Ellie?” I asked.
“Naturellement. They lived in Paris together. It was a marriage of power. J’remercie Dieu que c’est fini. But you are right, chérie, you have a job to do.”
Dana motioned for me to follow her as she walked around the cooking island I was sitting at. Leaving my half empty glass of orange juice on top of the counter, I jumped off the barstool and followed her. "I already put the dry cleaning in the bedroom," she said as she started up the stairs.
I stared at the bags on the neatly made up king-size bed. There were probably about five different suits in those bags. "You probably noticed but Mr. Jonas likes to wear a different suit every day," she explained as she picked up the bags. She opened the door in the wall behind the bed to reveal a walk-in closet. I gasped as I stepped inside. His closet was as big as my living room. "Impressionante, n'est-ce pas?" Dana laughed, "that was exactly my response. Now, the tricky part is sorting the suits. Color-coordinated, obviously, that's easy. But also by fabric."
"By fabric?" I asked. He wanted me to sort his suits by fabric?
"Yes, Belle. There are summer and winter suits. And there's the in-between for fall and spring. Thicker blazers, thicker shirts, darker colors. Then they're also sorted by brand. Armani before Boss."
"Okay so, if I have three suits, I sort the blazers by color and then by season and brand," I repeated to make sure I'd gotten it right. I had no idea he was so OCD about the way his suits were organized in his closet.
"Exactement." Dana nodded and smiled. "I will let you start now. These suits are easy, mostly all summer suits. It can get trickier when he starts mixing fall suits and summer suits." She gave me an encouraging pat on the back before heading out of the closet. "I will be in the kitchen. If you need any help, just call."
"Got it. Merci, Dana."
I smiled at her as she walked away. Once I was alone, I took a deep breath and stared around the closet. Blazers, shirts and pants, all organized the same way in a separate part of the closet. I unzipped the first bag and stared at the suit, reading the brand name and the tag with the fabric information. "Summer," I read out loud with a slight chuckle. Dana had written the season on the tags inside. Well that makes it way easier, I thought.
About fifteen minutes later, I was done sorting the clean suits. I placed my hands on my hips and stared at his clothes. He had one entire wall of suits. The wall behind me had jeans and regular t-shirts as well as knitted sweaters, cardigans, backpacks and fedoras. He had a lot of clothes.
I was so caught up in staring at his outfits, imagining him in just a simple pair of denims with a white tee that I didn't hear him come in, let alone realized he was coming up to his bedroom to meet me. I could sense his presence behind me before I felt his hot breath fanning down on my neck. Shivers ran down my spine as his fingers, barely touching my skin, moved up and down my arms. “J’te veux,” he breathed into my ear.
Oh my God.
"Mr. Jonas." My voice came out shakily as I tried to find something to hold on to. I steadied myself by grabbing onto one of the shelves in his closet. Did he seriously just speak French to me? Was he trying to kill me?
“J’te veux Belle,” he repeated, his lips in my neck, his hands on my waist. “Je te veux nue. Ta peau sur la mienne. Je veux te sentir.” He pulled me closer to his body, my back to his front and let his fingers move from my waist up my abdomen. His hands pressed tightly into my skin as they traveled a path up my stomach, inching up the fabric of my thin white top.
My heart started hammering behind my ribs the closer he got to my chest. Due to the fact he’d called me in the morning and requested I came over right now, I didn’t have a lot of time to change out of my pajamas – which thankfully were sort of an acceptable combination to wear in public – and therefore wasn’t wearing a bra; which I knew he was aware of the minute I appeared on his doorstep.
He finally touched my breasts, squeezing them hard in his rough hands. His lips continued to work on my neck. “Angel,” he breathed, “T’es à moi,” he growled lowly in my ear.
And then he turned me around roughly, moved us to the left and pressed me against the wall. His lips covered mine instantly in a hungry kiss, fueled by the desire burning deep inside him. One hand was holding me by my neck, angling me perfectly to deepen the kiss even more, while the other moved down to my chest. He greedily pawed at my chest, pushing down the tank top to reveal what he was after. I moaned into the kiss the second the palm of his hand touched my bare breast.
“Wait,” I said, turning my head away so his lips landed on my cheek, “what, what about Dana?” He pulled away and I looked up at him again. “I, I don’t want her to–”
“She won’t,” he breathed, rubbing his nose against mine.
He leaned in to kiss me again and I let him before I shook my head again. "No, I- how do you know she won't walk in here?"
"Angel," he sighed, pressing his forehead against mine momentarily, "Dana is not the real reason you're hesitating." I chewed down on my bottom lip and stared up into his eyes. I knew he could tell he was right. I wasn't cautious because of his housekeeper; I was cautious because he was my boss. "You're really gonna leave me here with blue balls?"
Laughing, I fell against his chest. "All week you've made me think you didn't remember me from that night at Trixx," I started when I looked up at him, "guess that makes us even." I fixed my top and stepped away from him, heading back out of his closet.
"Truth of the matter is," I heard him say behind me, "I'm your boss." I turned around to look at him. He was slowly making his way over to me, a sly smirk stretched across his lips. "And that means you have to do what I say."
I crossed my arms over my chest. "I do in the office."
He raised his left eyebrow as he pulled his phone out of the pocket of his pants. Soon after he pressed a few buttons, my own phone was ringing downstairs. "Miss Ryan," he spoke into the phone, "this is your boss and I need you to do something for me." I swallowed hard as he stood right in front of me, barely any space left between our bodies. He hung up his phone and leaned down so his lips were pressed to my ear. "I need you to -"
"Monsieur Jonas," Dana yelled, "votre déjeuner est prêt."
"Merci Dana, j'arrive," he called back to her. "You're staying for breakfast."
"Mr. Jonas I-"
"That wasn't a question, Miss Ryan. That was an order." Smirking, he walked past me and lead the way out of the closet, back down to the kitchen. I followed shortly behind him and found two plates sitting atop the breakfast bar. Both had eggs, bacon, toast and fresh fruit on them.
"Belle, you're staying?" Dana asked, nodding to the second plate she had prepared. The food was mouth-watering and I'd feel bad refusing after she'd already prepared it for me. Plus, I had my orders.
"Oui, Dana. J'veux bien." I took a seat and grabbed a piece of pineapple while Mr. Jonas searched through the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of white wine. "Mr. Jonas, it's ten in the morning," I gasped when I watched him uncork the bottle and pour some into two glasses.
"You can call me Joe," he said, sliding a glass over to me. "When we're not in the office you can call me Joe. And about the wine," he walked over to the empty bar stool beside me and sat down, "it's never too early for a glass." He held his up and I took the hint, picking up my own and clinking it against his.