His Deepest Desire (BBW Domination Billionaire Erotica)

His Deepest Desire

by Simone Beatrix

I bit my lip, I couldn’t really be doing this could I?

I walked into the room, my purse tugging at my shoulder. The sound of my heels clicked loudly against the marble floor, which only heightened the sensation that everyone was staring at me.

Double checking the directory, I looked for Mr. Reeves’ office, but it wasn’t listed. I glanced over to the receptionist, and decided I should ask her. I smoothed out the wrinkles on my suit before approaching the receptionist to get some more information.

She was busy organizing some paperwork, and after standing for far too long. Her short black hair kept falling from behind her ear, and she tucked it two or three times before I interrupted her.

“Excuse me?”

She stopped, and eyed me through the top of her glasses, which hung on the tip of her nose. “Oh.” she said, “Could I help you with something?” She stared at me, clearly unimpressed.

I breathed, somewhat irritated. “I have an interview with...” I drew a blank.

I shuffled my papers that were tucked under my arm against my purse and the name came to me, “Mr. Reeves.”

“I sincerely doubt that, Ms...?”

“Scott, Kari Scott.” I corrected her, “And why do you doubt that?” I was losing my patience. How could she already be snubbing me like this? I was just trying to get to my interview!

“Ms. Scott. I doubt that because Mr. Reeves doesn’t take interviews. You’re probably scheduled with his receptionist.”

“No, because I’m applying for that position. If you had asked me...” I bit my tongue, talking back to her wasn’t going to be getting my any bonus points. She was just the desk lady in the Lobby. But I still didn’t understand why she had a problem with me. I glanced at her name holder on her desk:
Sasha Watt. I’ll have to remember to avoid her.

She raised an eyebrow at me, quickly looking me up and down. After muttering something under her breath, she frowned and pointed down the hallway toward the elevators.

“Go to the 7th floor. You’ll find him at the end of the hallway.”

***

The elevator opened to the 7th floor, revealing a fairly minimalistic entry way. Bland office carpet, with off-white walls. I felt it was almost too sterile, but it was a good contrast between the reception area and Mr. Reeves’ office. I passed an empty desk, most likely for a receptionist. I gulped before knocking on the large door to his office, my fist barely making a noise against the thick hardwood.

He called for me to enter.

The office was large and spacious, but much more heavily decorated than the hallway. Thick reading chairs sat in the corners opposite of his desk, coffee black hardwood beams criss-crossed on the ceiling.

I tried not to gawk, but he caught me staring up as I made my way to his desk.

“Impressive isn’t it?” he said, and I caught myself, looking down and across his large executive desk. He was powerfully built, and had a coy smile. Not too muscular though, so it wasn’t off-putting. Just, healthy. The single most striking thing about him were his ice-cold blue eyes.

I nodded, “I didn’t know you could have vaulted ceilings in an office building.”

“You can’t. I had to pay a huge fee to get this done. I stole office space from upstairs for this little trick, but I’d say it was worth it.” He cleared some papers off his desk, making room. He stood and extended his hand. “I take it you’re Ms. Scott? Did you have any trouble making it here? I forgot to tell you where my office was when we talked on the phone.”

I shook his hand, a powerful, warm grip embraced mine. “Not much of a trouble, you just were listed in the directory and I had to ask the receptionist. She was...” I paused, trying to decide what kind of an impression I wanted to make. I felt comfortable enough to admit she was kind of mean to me, but I decided against it. “Nice. Thank you for having me.” Our hands held 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, feeling his eyes on me the whole time.

***

Everything went pretty smooth for the next two weeks. I didn’t act so much as a personal assistant but mostly a Lost & Found hunter. Mr. Reeves seemed to lose things everyday, and it was almost always up to me to find them. Every morning I’d go into work and find his office door already closed, occupied. I couldn’t imagine what ungodly hour he was waking up at, considering I got in at 7am and we both left at 4pm.

The only real problem I was having was with the Lobby receptionist, Sasha.

Sasha continued to be cold to me, whenever I’d come into work, she’d give me this horrid look. I tried to brush it off, but I noticed her glare most often when I was leaving work with Mr. Reeves. I remember one day in particular:

As the elevator doors opened into the lobby, Mr. Reeves had gestured for me to go first, citing the old chivalric code, “Ladies First,” as he called it. I chuckled, curtsying to him in an exaggerated fashion, and stepping out of the elevator. Just as I looked up, the smile on my face faded when I saw the absolute disgust in Sasha’s eyes. Her hateful black pupils stared into me, just absolutely hating me with every ounce of her being.

I said good-bye to Mr. Reeves and hurried out of the building, trying to not look back at her. I had never seen someone look like that before, and it was terrifying. That sealed it for me, I was going to have to ask Mr. Reeves if he knew what Sasha’s problem was with me, if she even had one.

***

The next day I stood up from my desk, my resolve tightening. I
had
to ask.

“Mr. Reeves?” I called out, knocking on his door. It was slightly ajar, so I peeked through the opening before he could answer.

He was leaned into a bunch of paperwork, a deep set furrow in his brow. After hearing me, he sat up quickly, straightening his tie and slicking back his hair again.

“Yes? Ms. Scott? Come in.”

I pushed the door open and stood at his desk. “What is Sasha’s problem with me?”

He frowned. “Her problem? Don’t worry about her... she has a problem with every one of my secretaries.”

“But why? Why is she like that? Is she jealous or something? Does she want my job?”

“Jealous...” he said the word, rolling it around in his mouth like it was the first time he had heard it. “Maybe. I wouldn’t worry about her though, she’s harmless.”

I sighed, “Well if that’s all, then I’ll try to ignore it.”

“That’d probably be the best. Anything else?” he eyed me expectantly.

“No, that’s all. Thank you Mr. Reeves.” I left his office.

***

The next day, Mr. Reeves was trying to correct my performance on getting responses back to clients. I managed to always get their names mixed up, and sometimes would mumble into the phone. Once or twice, a client of his actually complained to him about me, and he called me into his office.

“Ms. Scott, please step inside.” I opened the door, pushing it open with my body weight.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I have to tell you again, but you can’t keep messing up these calls with these clients. They’re going to start going to other lawyers in the city, since you’re giving them a terrible impression.”

I felt sweat bead on the back of my neck. My mouth dry.
I’m going to get fired.

“Are... Are you going to fire me?”

He sighed, “No, no I’m not going to fire you. But you really need to get better about this. Here, come here.”

I approached him, and he handed his desk phone to me. “Here take this.”

I took the phone, and held it up to my ear, hearing the drone of the dial tone.

“Okay, pretend I’m a client, let’s say... I’m just ‘Jonathan,’--  my first name.” I nodded, “I call, and you say?”

“Hello, Thanks for calling the Offices of Mr. Reeves.”

“No, not offices, just office,” his face reddened. “Try again.”

I gulped, I usually wasn’t so nervous, but I felt like I really had to ... impress.

“Hello, Thank you for calling the Office of Mr. Reeves. How may I help you?”

“Okay good,” he smiled, “I need to see Mr. Reeves ASAP.”

“Okay...” I sat at the chair and pulled some loose paper from underneath Mr. Reeves’ stack. I wrote down
Appt.
“Could I get your name?”

“Jonathan. Do you need me to spell it?”

I chuckled nervously, “No, I think I got it.”
Appt. Jonathan,
“Let me look at his schedule.”

“Well, hurry up, I don’t have all day!” Mr. Reeves mocked anger.

“Looks like he can see you tomorrow at 3pm, how’s that sound?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll see him tomorrow then. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, and thank you Jonathan.” I hung up the receiver, the dial tone finally gone.

“That was great, that’s all you have to do.”

I smiled, “but isn’t that what I usually do? Jonathan?” I sassed him. I don’t know what made me do it, but I just felt... this vibe. “I don’t know if you need to be so condescending to your employees.”

He stared at me, I think in surprise. He probably wasn’t used to being talked back to, or at least, talked to in terms of equals. I sensed something in him, like has restraining himself. Like a force was pushing him, and he was fighting it with all his strength.

He wiped his brow, suddenly covered in sweat. I felt a nervous energy growing in me again.