Page 59 of Assistant to the Billionaire CEO

“I feel a spanking is in order.” His hand was grazing the curve of my ass. If I hadn’t already been a little wet before, I totally was now.

Omg, this was so embarrassing. Andsohot.

I couldn’t help but wiggle my ass and giggle a little at his touch. I was so ticklish! His hand stroking my butt tickled!

He pulled my skirt up to my waist, exposing my ass. Heavens. This wasn’t actually happening, was it? He was teaching me a lesson for being late? What happened to good old write-ups?

The sound of the supply room’s doorknob twisting open sent me flying up. Ace’s expression seemed to say, “Saved by the bell.”

I grabbed my handbag and hastily hid behind one of the large boxes lining the third shelf. Please do not ask me why I was hiding again. (Obviously, I was an utterly hopeless case.)

From my hiding spot, I watched Ace calmly stand up.

The door opened. I was still trying to straighten out my skirt. It had gotten a bit roughed up during my…erm…almost punishment.

“Mr. Windsor! Apologies, I didn’t know you were in here,” a portly bald man said loudly, sticking his head in through the doorway. “Can I come in? I just want to fetch some paper clips.”

“Of course. Go right ahead,” Ace said, motioning for the man to enter.

Still frozen behind the large box, I was trying to process what had just happened. My heart was still racing, and my body was still yearning for Ace’s. I felt a drop of sweat running between my breasts as I tried to slow my breathing.

“Thank you, sir,” the bald man said, shuffling into the room and catching sight of me. “Looks like I’ve come during rush hour, hello.”

“Oh, hello.” I pretended to be searching for something. Not sure what. I was just doing a lot of mindless looking around.

“Flint, this is Stella Copeland. Stella, Flint Walter is one of our account executives. He also helped to organize this room.”

“I did,” he said proudly. “So, what are you looking for, young lady? I know where everything is in here. Let me help,” he offered.

“Oh, Mr. Windsor already helped me,” I said. It totally didn’t make any sense since I had just pretended to be looking for something.

Just before I could get myself into more trouble, Ace held out the fistful of pens he’d brandished at me before “the incident.” I took them without making eye contact with him.

Instead, I held them up for Flint to see. “There they are,” I said brightly.

“Alrighty then.” Flint smiled. “Well, is there something I can helpyouwith, Mr. Windsor?”

“I just came up here to fetch a file I left in here this morning,” Ace said, strolling away from us toward the back of the room. As he walked by me, I could have sworn he winked at me.

Did that really just happen? No. I was still trying to process the fact that a) Ace had almost kissed me, b) he’d almost spanked me, and c) we’d almost been caught doing just that—and now he was mischievously winking at me as my mind kept replaying how his hand had felt on my ass. My mind liked it—a lot.

In fact, my mind was so preoccupied that I nearly didn’t see Ace reaching down to pick up a file that lay on one of the boxes stacked against the back wall. The file’s cover read “E.C.” and the word “Classified” was sprawled across it in large bold red lettering.

E.C.?

As in Ecclestone Construction?

Another bead of sweat rolled down my skin.

Ace tucked the file under his arm and headed toward the door. “Stella, after you’ve taken those pens to Winifred, report to Mr. Hardy’s office,immediately.” As he said that word, I thought I noticed a small tug at one corner of his mouth—but I couldn’t be sure. “He owes me a set of blueprints before noon, and I just know he won’t get them to me unless he has help. See how you can assist him. Once you’re done there, please come to my office. I have some paperwork that needs to be tended to.” Ace turned to the bald man who had nearly walked in on us. “Have a good day, Flint.” He nodded at the man and strode through the supply room’s cherry-red door.

“Thank you, Mr. Windsor. You too! You too,” the bald man said eagerly, and then faced me. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked, likely because I was still standing behind the box, staring at the pens in my hand, andstilltrying to imagine what Ace’s lips and his punishment (there was that too) would have felt like. “You look a little pale. Maybe you should sit down or something?”

“No, I’m okay,” I assured him. “It’s just a little…hotin here. I’ve got to run. Have a nice day.” I made a beeline for the door.

“Have a nice day too,” he yelled after me.

I found myself racing toward the elevator, stowing the fistful of pens I’d gotten for Winifred in my handbag. I wasn’t sure where I was headed, but I knew I needed to find somewhere to clear my mind before I went on with the rest of the day. Ladies’ room. Yes! As soon as the elevator arrived, I dove in and hit the 3rd-floor button. The elevator’s speaker played an instrumental version of “Bad Romance.” How appropriate.

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