s*x Chained

The New Boss

Chapter 3

"So, how do you like the new job so far?" Ellis asked her probing hazel-eyed gaze. She was dying to get the scoop from her friend and office ally, the nondescript, mousy girl who had snagged the primo job as Christian O'Connell's assistant, and who now became the talk around the water cooler.

The lovely spring day had prompted the two office workers to eat lunch in the park, and at their usual bench. As Nat took up her tuna salad sandwich, she answered, "I like it just fine. Chris never demands and always acts very pleasant."

"Chris, huh?" Her friend threw her a knowing wink. "My, my, a personal assistant already."

"Nonsense! It just seemed silly to call ourselves 'Sir' and 'Ms.' when we work together day in and day out."

Ellis nudged her friend's arm. "So? Tell me! What's he really like?"

Nat gave a wistful bat of her lashes. "He's perfect. And not just physically. He's the perfect boss."

And to make sure she performed as near to perfection as she could get, Nat had checked out several management books from the public library and planned to study them all weekend. In addition, she decided to splurge a little of her savings on a makeover, including a few new exciting pieces to add to her utilitarian wardrobe. To top it all off, she had scheduled a beauty parlor appointment for a new hairstyle. Of course, she didn't include Ellis in on her plans. Unfortunately, her best and only friend would have to wait like anyone else, just in case Nat decided not to go through with the transformation at the last minute. Of course, the idea of such a drastic but dynamic change from drab caterpillar to a more stylish butterfly thrilled her no end; and she knew without a doubt that she wouldn’t fail in her mission.

Since she began her new job Monday of last week, Nat paid particular attention to her boss' wants and habits. She now knew Chris enjoyed a little cream in his coffee, but no sugar. He usually took working lunches and called the ground floor coffee shop around two p.m. for a pick-me-up, usually a latte. When absent from his spacious office with its picture window panorama of downtown Dayton, Nat took the opportunity to look around, not necessarily to spy or even snoop, but to get the feel of the man. From all accounts, Chris O'Connell remained single, had no serious romantic liaisons at the moment, and preferred not to indulge in office flirtations despite Merrill Strang's efforts.

From various clues on his polished maple desk, Nat discovered he took his laundry to the cleaners around the corner, banked at First America, frequented Heidelman's Restaurant, and held a membership to the Total Gym. Since she managed his new expense account, Nat knew Chris O'Connell often enjoyed steak sandwiches, onion rings and iced tea when he lunched. From the mortgage payment book in the upper desk drawer, she also deduced her boss was in the process of buying a condo in the upscale part of town.

Maybe he'll ask my opinion on decor, she thought dreamily, or ask me to come to his apartment so I can help him decorate.

Every once in awhile, Nat had to pinch herself to concentrate on work rather than indulge in time-consuming fantasies about hunky Chris O'Connell. Worse, she began to dream about her boss almost every night—sexy, provocative dreams that had Chris O'Connell naked and in possession of a magnificently muscular and bronzed body. Nat, of course, wore a mane of long auburn locks that swept below bare, creamy shoulders, while her peasant blouse revealed the beginnings of her ample, heaving bosom. Christian O'Connell became the handsome rogue, intent on seducing her, while she, in turn, played the fair maiden. As she tried to escape from his ignoble clutches, she ran across a stretch of windswept, virginal beach; but her brawny pursuer remained too swift and sure, finally catching up to her as the surf pounded around them.

As he crushed her against his hard chest, Natalie felt his massive erection through his tight breeches. She had no choice now but to give in to his wild, heady kisses. His perfect lips not only coveted her mouth, but his hot, steamy embrace ignited the liquid heat of passion between them. At last, Nat gave in to the fire of their lusts, desperate for him to take her and assuage his dark desires. And then, when she felt Christian’s need swell to the bursting point, she flung herself down on the sand so he could take her—hard, fast and with no regrets...

Unfortunately, Nat would wake up in a sweat, often with the pillow bunched between her legs. How silly of me to allow my subconscious to dream up a stupid romance like that! she would chastise herself, and then grab the paperbacks on her nightstand and throw them across the room. An intimate encounter between assistant and boss, a steamy scenario between Natalie and Christian—no, that would never happen. It just can’t happen, she sighed, my capricious, girlish fantasy about the kind of love and romance I only read about in those silly books.

Natalie Joan Blanchard had gone on one date in her lifetime, to the senior prom with a distant cousin; and only after her mother coaxed him into taking her daughter. And although she hadn't gone on to college, she did enroll in evening management courses, but never bothered to take up the offers for coffee after class by a fellow male student. She would never admit to it, but at the tender age of twenty-six, she had never "done it" with any man, and would probably stay a virgin forever. Nat would always be Natalie Joan, the unseasoned, glorified secretary; a shy, unassuming woman all of five foot-three, one hundred twenty pounds, and with straight, brown hair, mousy eyes, and nondescript features. Natalie Joan, aka the plain Jane, who loved "Dream Love," dollar romances, and owned a stuffed cat. Natalie Joan, aka the desperate virgin, who wanted so much to learn about real love, physical love, and all from the one and only man of her dreams—her boss, Christian O'Connell.