Page 15 of Billionaire's Black Assistant

“Indeed I do,” murmured Dean, allowing himself one last sweeping glance over the caramel curves of his tempting assistant, while keeping his thoughts well screened off. If only she had a clue what plans I have in store…

***

Soon after they were inside the plane, luggage stowed away in the compartments overhead and then a brief chat with the pilots in the cockpit and later the crew, before they were ready for takeoff.

Once the jet was cruising safely, it was time to prepare for the stacked up meetings waiting when they landed. Having flown with Dean before, Sheri knew the drill. He didn’t like people milling around him while he worked, so it was left to her to handle the refreshments, which she set before him. The cabin crew stayed out of sight, preparing the drinks or food and all Sheri had to do was present them and then get back down to work with Dean on the computer.

Over the past weeks, Dean had tried to distance himself, bombarding Sheri with tasks, yet she would conquer them with her usual poise. He wouldn’t have thought he’d get so irritated by the fact he had no way to cut through her cool exterior. In that moment, she was standing next to him and his control snapped. She’d leaned over to point something out on his screen, so close and yet he could just barely catch her scent.

It was so subtle and still potent enough to make him want to rip her clothes off. He really needed her to stop smelling like her! It was driving him crazy.

Sheri bent further, her plum silk blouse stretching over her big rounded bust, while the bow at her neck was slightly lose to show a smooth line of creamy neck. She was making insightful comments on the financial data set out, and all he could do was imagine slipping his hand beneath that blouse and squeezing those breasts – pulling them out to play with them and tease them with his hands and mouth the way he had just weeks ago. He’d never forget how lush, warm, and sweetly scented her firm flesh had been in his palms and on his tongue.

She must have just asked a question, because she was staring at him. Dean instantly brought himself back to the present.

He inhaled a deep breath through his nostrils – her scent was incredible. “What’s the name of your perfume Sheri?”

She flashed him a quizzical half-smile. “Um, it’s my favorite, it’s called…”

“You know what, I’m not interested in what it’s called.” He managed to scowl while seeing her freeze at his cold tone as he stated, “It’s simply not appropriate for work, Miss Wilson.”

She straightened abruptly, even as Dean marveled at what he just said. It didn’t even make any sense. He couldn’t take her being so close, but only because he fucking loved the way she smelled. He was beginning to wonder if he just wanted her to hate him and not just push her to the wall.

Damn it. All the sexual tension had managed was to turn him into some kind of angry fool of a boss. She stared at him with a hurt expression before her eyes shuttered and became overshadowed. Shit, was she about to cry? It was the opposite reaction he’d have expected, which made him feel even more like a dickhead.

“Well, then I won’t wear it again. Excuse me.” She stuck out her chin and then turned and walked blindly away.

Dean swore harshly under his breath, and a few moments later was going after her.

The aircraft was the ultimate for luxury business travel – quieter, roomier and teeming with advanced technology, boasting the lowest of pressurized cabin altitude possible.

As such, it created an exquisitely cozy environment to ensure passengers arrived their destination refreshed and geared up for whatever lay ahead.

Dean had ensured his Gulfstream was more than equipped for meetings, entertaining and relaxing, more than sizeable enough for a dozen people. The crew had their separate compartment to ensure their comfort, as well as the passengers’ privacy.

Sheri had retreated to the master suite, which had a walk-in lavatory with shower, which was where he found her. She was standing in front of the mirror dabbing a tissue to her eye when he appeared.

“What do you want?” she said shortly, glancing at him with stormy eyes. Which to his relief weren’t tear stained, though she had a tell-tale shimmer in the pupils that made him ache with more self-reproach. Dean wanted to grab her, shake her, and tell her to run.

Instead, he swiftly closed the space between them, hands seizing her waist as he backed her up against the counter. She pushed angrily against his chest. “Why don’t you just fire me? You know that’s what’s best for both of us.”

She looked too angry to care that he had her trapped or that he’d started to kiss on her neck, his hips slightly grinding into her. “If I fire you, will you go out with me?” His hands slid down her waist to her knees seeking the bottom of her skirt. Then he pulled it up quickly, hearing a few stitches break as he brought the tight hem over her ass.

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