The Boss' Secret (Callahan's Secretary) Page 2

  He’d hated the Callahan’s for as long as he could remember. Making them pay for the wrongs they’d done to him, to his family, had been his mission in life. Grace Marcum would be the key to that. At first, he’d thought to use her as a track to inside information. She would have been the perfect pawn to help him keep track of what Callahan was up to and what he would need to do to impress the powers that be and eventually have the board look to him as the perfect replacement for his enemy. But now, knowing that there was only one logical way for a man to lose a cufflink in a woman’s hair, that changed matters dramatically.

  Grace wouldn’t be ferreting out information for him. She would be Anthony Callahan’s achilles heel. Considering the reputation that Johnathon Callahan had for being a stickler for work and propriety, at least in others, there was little doubt in his mind that the elder Callahan would frown on his son dallying with the help. But there were other ways, to ruin a man. Thinking of Grace, and a woman’s scorn, he wondered what would happen if she and Anthony were to part ways. Could he convince her to help him then? The possibilities were endless. All he had to do, Richard thought, was figure out how that information would serve him best. Thinking of Grace’s curvy hips swaying, he hadn’t entirely written off the idea of making her part of the prize. That she belonged to Anthony Callahan only made it sweeter. With a smile curing his lips, he pressed the elevator button and headed back to his office. He had plans to make.

  ANTHONY stepped out of the taxi in front of Grace’s building. She refused to stay at his home, part of her determined plan of secrecy. It was true that some of the other executives lived in his building, but it still rankled. His cell phone rang and he pulled it from the pocket of his jacket, glancing at the screen. He frowned as he answered it.

  “Yes, sir?” he knew that his father would frown at being called sir. They’d never been very close. Between the boarding schools and the divorces, they had never had much of a relationship. The running of Callahan Industries had been their only point of agreement.

  “Would it be too difficult for you to call me father?” Johnathon Callahan asked.

  “Is there a reason for this call?” Anthony asled grimly, as he pressed the buzzer for Grace to let him in.

  “Am I interrupting your busy social life, son? You’ve been out and about an awful lot lately. Maybe you should bring her to the gala. Your stepmother would be very happy about that.”

  Anthony smiled at the mention of his stepmother. Marianne was the best decision his father had ever made. She came from old money, but she was simply the most down to earth person he’d ever met. He adored her and all her many causes. “I can’t make any promises about that, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  Johnathon made a low whistling sound. “That’s the first time I’ve managed to get you to even admit you’re seeing someone... You know I never offer you fatherly advice, but on this occasion, I feel it’s appropriate.”

  “Please don’t start talking about prenups,” Anthony said, heading up the stairs.

  “I wasn’t going to. I was going to tell you that if she’s that special to you, don’t let anything get in your way.”

  Anthony paused on the landing. His father’s words hanging heavily between them. Grace was that important to him, but what worried him was that his father had clued in to it. Was he being that obvious, or was there something amiss with his father that he didn’t know about? “Is everything okay?”

  Johnathon laughed. “Yes. I’m not checking out on you yet. I’ve just been reflecting on life and all the wasted time... I’d like to see grandchildren before I die, Anthony, and be a better grandfather than I ever was a father.”

  “Well, there’s no pressure there,” he said, continuing the climb. “You’re putting a damper on the romantic evening I had planned.”

  “I’d hate to be responsible for that. Tell Grace I said hello.”

  Anthony nearly dropped the phone. By the time he recovered and was ready to issue a denial, his father had already disconnected the call. He didn’t know how his father knew, how he’d discovered the truth, but it would require further investigating. The one thing he did know was that he would most certainly not be passing along the message. The last thing he needed was for Grace to go into panic mode. He climbed the rest of the three flights up to her small apartment wondering what the hell his father was up to, but when Grace answered the door, all thought fled.

  She wore a simple black dress, the vintage inspired cut hugging her curves in a way that made his mouth go dry and his blood race. The wide neckline plunged into a deep V, revealing a tantalizing amount of cleavage and the ruffled hem of the skirt ended just above her knees. When she turned to walk away, the slit at the back of the skirt revealed a glimpse of the lacy tops of her back-seamed stockings. “You look amazing. Are we going out?”

  The glance back at him over her nearly bare shoulder was pure coquette. She replied, “Of course not. You know we never go out here... Too many prying eyes. That doesn’t mean I can’t dress up for you at home.”

  Anthony looked at the small dining table where they’d shared many dinners, and many breakfasts over the past month. She’d draped it in white linen. Candles burned in small, glass containers. It was a seduction scene and he appreciated the effort, even if it was totally unnecessary. Grace could seduce him just by breathing. “Is there some occasion that I’ve forgotten about? Like a one week anniversary of the first time I sneezed in front of you?”

  She laughed. “No. It’s just that I feel bad. I know you hate all the secrecy, but it’s necessary... Since we’ve never gotten to go on the romantic dates or do all of those things that normal couples do, I thought I’d try to make up for it.”

  Anthony sighed and tugged her close, kissing her. “You could just be seen in public with me. It would be much less trouble... Just tell me why, Grace. Why is it so damned important to keep this secret?”

  Grace met his earnest gaze, knowing that he truly didn’t see it, and knowing that he would never understand even when she explained it to him. Still, he deserved that much. “Anthony, you are incredibly wealthy, powerful and good looking. How many magazines have named you their most eligible bachelor?”

  She didn’t wait for him to answer, but continued. “There are certain expectations for the women that you date. They have to be beautiful, they have to be sophisticated, and they have to be thin. I’m none of those things... The media, your family and friends, your business associates--everyone will wonder why you’re with me. And after a while, you’ll begin to wonder too.”

  The anger was unexpected and the resentment that she would assume he could be that easily swayed goaded him. “No, Grace. I will never wonder why I’m with you. You’re mistaking sophisticated for jaded. And if you ever tell me again that you aren’t beautiful, I am going to spank you in ways that you don’t like... I don’t care that you’re not thin, Grace. Every time I feel the softness of your body against me, I thank God for it.”

  “Maybe you won’t, and maybe everything you said is true, but that doesn’t change what other people will think... and that’s a scrutiny that, for right now at least, I just can’t face.”

  “Will you ever?” he demanded.

  Grace’s stomach felt tight, her lungs refusing to expand all the way. “If you make me answer that tonight, neither one of us will like it. Please don’t make me.”

  Anthony retreated. That question always seemed to come between them, and one day it would permanently. But for now, he had to let it go, or let her go. He wasn’t ready to do that. “We’ll drop it for the moment... I know you went to a lot of trouble for dinner, but there’s only one thing I want to eat right now.” He watched her shiver in response, her pupils dilating with desire, her lips parting on a soft sigh. Through the thin fabric of her dress, he could see her hardened nipples protruding. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I want, Grace?”

  Breathlessly, she replied, “I think I have an idea.”

  Anthony crossed to
the table and blew out the candles. Returning to her, he took her hand and led her into the bedroom. More candles burned there. Her skin gleamed like the palest gold in the dim light. The zipper of her dress was the merest whisper of sound in the room. The fabric parted, and he pushed it down her shoulders, over her rounded hips, until it pooled on the floor around her stiletto clad feet. Beneath it, she had taken just as much care with her appearance. She wore a black, lace corset that hugged every lush curve. The ribbon laces created a tantalizing vision as they trailed over her firm, rounded backside.

  “Looks like you went shopping without me,” he said, nipping the curve of her shoulder. He pulled her hips back against him, so that his cock pressed against the cleft of her bottom, leaving no question as to just how aroused he was for her. Turning her around, he moved them both forward until the backs of her knees touched the bed. With a gentle push, he sent her tumbling backwards. The lush mounds of her breasts giggled as she bounced on the mattress. If he hadn’t already been painfully aroused, that would have done it. Grasping the thin, satin strings that held her thong together, he gave a sharp tug that decimated the ridiculously tiny garment. Kneeling on the floor, he tugged her forward until her bottom was barely perched on the bed and her thighs were draped on his shoulders, her bare sex only inches from his eager mouth. He traced the delicate folds with the tips of his fingers, savoring the warmth and wetness that greeted his touch.

  “Do you want my mouth on you, Grace?”

  “Please,” she murmured, her hands stroking over her silky thighs, reaching for him.

  He dipped his head, his tongue moving over her slit, lapping at her juices. Moving his hands between her thighs, he parted the lips of her pussy, opening her fully to his explorations. The taste of her was intoxicating. He alternately laved and sucked her clit, driving her to the brink of orgasm and then easing back. Moving lower, he flexed his tongue, fucking her with it, pressing deep inside her. But he wasn’t done. His hand shifted from her thigh, moving beneath her, to stroke the cleft of her behind. He felt her tense. This was something new for Grace, something he hadn’t pushed her toward yet, but he wanted to bring down every barrier, every boundary between them that he could. Sliding the tip of his finger between the firm globes, he pressed against the small opening there. She tensed again, her muscles clenching, not in protest, but in surprise and pleasure. He massaged that tight ring of muscles as he continued to love her sweet pussy with his mouth.

  When her thighs were trembling against him, her belly quivering with her building climax, he closed his lips over her clit and suckled it. She screamed his name and he felt her muscles tense, going rigid as the first wave of her climax took her. He could feel the rhythmic pulses of her clit beneath his tongue and continued to tease and torment her until she sobbed brokenly.

  “I love making you scream,” he whispered hotly, before gently biting the soft, supple skin of her inner thigh. She shivered in response and that small movement was the final straw for him. He needed to be inside her. He’d never craved anything in his life the way he craved the haven of her body. Rising to his feet, he didn’t even bother to take his clothes off, he simply opened his pants, freeing his cock from the constraining fabric. Hooking his hands behind her knees, he parted her thighs further, opening her completely to him, and nudged his cock against her heated entrance.

  “Yes! Please, Anthony... I need you,” she pleaded.

  He looked at her then, savoring the wanton display. Her hair was mussed, lying tangled against the pale sheets, her cheeks and the swells of her breasts still flushed from her orgasm. Flexing his hips, he drove into her, the slick folds parting easily to welcome him. A loud groan escaped him, the sound more animal than human, but there were times when she made him feel that way. From the first moment he’d touched her, all the civilized layers had been peeled back and he was left with nothing but raw, savage need. Withdrawing and plunging into her tight sheath again, he couldn’t help but recall his father’s mention of grandchildren. The idea of having kids had always petrified him, but when he thought of Grace carrying his child, it evoked something so primal in him he couldn’t even name it. Another deep thrust, and the ability to think of anything left him. It was just heat and the wet sounds of their bodies coming together and a need so intense it was almost painful.

  Grace arched her back, flexing her hips to draw Anthony deeper. It felt so right to have him with her, to feel him moving so deeply inside her. His cock stretched her, filled her. With deliberation, she touched her lips with her fingertips, wetting them with the tip of her tongue. Delving that same hand beneath the satin cup of her corset, she stroked her pebbled nipple with the dampened fingers and watched the expression on his face change. His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared, and she could see a muscle flexing in his jaw as he gritted his teeth.

  “You’re playing with fire, Grace.”

  Grace didn’t respond, she just moved her hand lower, sliding it over her the satin and lace that still covered her belly, down to where their bodies were joined. Her fingers teased his cock as it delved into her again. With her body so open to him, she knew what he wanted to see. With the lightest of touches, she stroked her clit. It wasn’t about reaching orgasm in that moment, it was about putting on a show for her lover. She knew that nothing pleased Anthony more, nothing drove him to the edge of pleasure and beyond like watching her touch herself. “I love the way you feel,” she said, her voice breathless and husky with passion. “So thick and hard inside me. I can feel you everywhere, filling me up.”

  “Witch,” he muttered, and his voice was hot with something that was far from anger.

  “Feeling you cum inside me,” she continued, “That headed rush of it pouring into me.”

  Grace knew then that she’d pushed him beyond the edge. He thrust into her forcefully, his fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs as his cock pounded into her. It was violent, dominant, and she loved it. She stroked her clit faster, wanting to cum with him, knowing that her body contracting around him would only increase his pleasure. The first spasm struck her, her sheath clenching tightly. She watched as he threw his head back, growling out a curse. He pressed against her, going completely still, except for his labored breathing and the pulsing of his cock inside her. The rush of his semen jetting inside her, bathing her inner walls with his heat, his essence, had her own body clenching, spasming rhythmically around him, milking every drop from him. She closed her eyes, savoring the pleasure and fighting the tears that threatened.

  Anthony collapsed onto the bed beside her, his breathing labored, his body aching from their exertions, but he felt so good, so right there with her. Rising on his elbow, he stared down at her face, and then brushed a tear from her cheek. “Why are you crying, love?”

  She smiled then, but her eyes stayed closed, “Because sometimes things are just perfect.”

  He stirred himself enough to discard his clothes and then helped her remove the corset and stockings, before settling them both in her bed beneath her frilly, feminine sheets. If keeping her meant keeping it secret, he would. Because the one thing he knew he couldn’t do was let her go.

  OUTSIDE, Richard Beatty sipped the coffee he’d purchased from the street vendor and watched the lights go out in the small apartment that he knew was Grace’s. Turning back to the vendor, he asked, “Do you always work this location?”

  The man looked wary, “I have a permit.”

  Richard shook his head, “I’m not here to hassle you. But I do have a job for you, one you can do from this very spot... Nothing illegal. I just need you to track where and when you see this man, and specifically, if you see him with a woman. Photos with your phone should work as all the proof I need.” The vendor took the photo that Richard extended toward him. It was a simple publicity shot they’d done for Callahan Industries, standard issue for magazines interviewing or doing features about the golden boy.

  “That’s all?” the vendor asked skeptically.

  “Yes,” Richard
said, pulling a large bill from his wallet. “I’ll come by again in a few days, and if you have the information I need, I’ll pay you triple that.”

  The vendor nodded his agreement and pocketed the bill. “How will I send you the pictures?”

  “I’ll let you know the next time we meet,” Richard said. He would get a burner phone. . There were several tabloids that would love to get hold of the story. He could picture the headlines. Billionaire Playboy Shacks Up with Fat Secretary. He needed more than that, though. It was too much to hope that they’d be into something kinky enough to wreck the Callahn image. A smile played across his face as he strolled towards a waiting taxi. There were other benefits, too, he thought, that he would need to explore. He’d never been overly fond of large women, but there was something appealing about Grace Marcum and her generous curves, or perhaps it was just that she belonged to a man he hated. Maybe, he thought, sliding into the back seat of the cab, revenge didn’t always have to be cold. He gave the cabby his address and considered all the lusty possibilities she presented during the ride home.