Chapter 3

Becka

“Dammit!” I sat back away from my laptop and sighed, dropping the lid down to turn it off. In the last month or so that I’d been working for Oliver, I’d been continuing my research into his company, Neuotova, but my computer had been getting slower and slower and had finally succumbed to whatever virus was trying to attack my system. Every time I tried to open a new screen, some random popup would prevent me from doing anything. I knew it was a simple fix; I could take it into Neuotova’s tech department… but I didn’t want anyone to see what I’d been searching for. First, it would raise a tremendous amount of suspicion about my relationship with Oliver. Anyone looking at my search history would know I was completely obsessed with him. What they wouldn’t understand from my computer, though, was that the obsession was mutual. Of course, explaining to Oliver why I was researching anything on the internet that tied his name in with animal testing, animal mistreatment, animal experimentation, or animal captivity… that would be a whole new level of difficulty.

I thought about when I had first seen the list of CEOs who had basically admitted that they tested their food additives on animals and experimented with animals and food, sometimes in fatal ways and seen Oliver’s name on that list. It still made my stomach do flips whenever I thought about it, how wrong it seemed that his name had appeared on the list, and how I couldn’t imagine that he, who had publically taken a very severe view on anyone who experimented with animals, could have ever been involved in any way with the other CEOs on the list. Yet, the more I researched Neuotova’s practices, the more holes appeared. Holes that couldn’t be explained away by simple research error.

I had wanted to talk to Oliver immediately. I’d texted him to meet the next night and he had agreed, of course, because he thought I just wanted to see him. I’d canceled the next morning, citing a headache, and we had been following our rules about not seeing each other outside of work ever since then. I missed him terribly; my body ached for him and every time I closed my eyes, his face would appear in the darkness against my eyelids. I watched for him at work constantly. He tended to visit my lab space at least once a day, and then it was a delicate dance of trying to memorize his face, his body, look for changes, anything new or different—all while trying to look like I wasn’t the least bit interested. I had the feeling I wasn’t fooling him. He certainly wasn’t fooling me; I caught him looking at me far more often than he wasn’t.

I had tried to fill my time with my research, not just into Neuotova, but into my own dissertation and development of Protame, an additive that would replace aspartame in sodas and other foods. Protame was developed from natural compounds and we had the formula almost completely right. It was taking an extremely long time because we weren’t experimenting on animal or human subjects. Each prototype was run through a complex computer program that tested it for all of the possible interactions it could have with mammalian chemistry. Each time we ran into a conflict, we needed to isolate the interaction and take pains to change the compound without changing any of the aspects that were already compliant with our goals. In short, it was a very delicate balancing act. For many companies it took years to perfect a formula. And, for a university and a single grad student, well, Protame might never actually see the market. But, my hope was that working at Neuotova would allow me the possibility of pushing Protame into the big time.

So, I hadn’t met with Oliver to call him out on his position on animal experimentation. Not yet. Instead, I was gathering a case. I had a grocery bag in my closet that was filling with documents I’d been collecting both at work and at home that set up an interesting picture of the public Oliver versus the private Oliver. The real versus the fake.

The trouble was… I didn’t care what I ultimately discovered. For the good of mankind and for the animals, I wanted to rat him out. If it had been anyone else, I would already have taken everything I’d gathered and brought it to PETA, to TMZ, to the press, anyone who would listen. But, it was Oliver. Even thinking about him now I noticed a warmth spreading through my entire body. A warmth that suggested if I were to call Oliver right now, I would either invite him over to my apartment or ask to visit his mansion and we would spend the night in every position imaginable. I felt myself flush with arousal and embarrassment at my hot thoughts.

I stood up and stretched, then went into the kitchen. I had to be at Neuotova in an hour, but there was no sense in not going in a little early. I could grab an early dinner in the company cafeteria, then get started on whatever projects were the focus for this week. I looked in the fridge and confirmed my dinner would be from the cafeteria; Lisa and I hadn’t been grocery shopping in forever, and basically everything in the fridge had a nice layer of dust and cobwebs on it.

“Gross,” I said out loud, to no one. Lisa was gone again for a few days on a work assignment. I turned off the lights, grabbed my bag and keys, and headed to work.

As I drove, I thought more about Oliver and if there was a way for us to continue seeing each other. It seemed like there were so many obstacles, so much in our way. Besides the obvious, that I was a broke graduate student working an internship and he was a billionaire CEO of one of the biggest food science corporations in the entire world… not that that wasn’t enough of an obstacle right there. But, we had overcome that. I knew that he liked me just as much as I liked him, though I had no idea what he saw in me. I knew him to be a sensitive, mysterious, thoughtful man. Is he also cruel? my brain interjected, with thoughts of animals packed into cages, being pulled out violently and experimented upon before either being shoved back into the cage for further study or disposed of.

“Everyone has secrets,” I said out loud to myself as I pulled into a parking spot in the company lot. Even me. Oliver could never know that I was investigating him to the degree that I was.

I dropped my bag off and went to the lab; I wanted to check to see if anyone was interested in grabbing dinner. It was nearly five o’clock, and most of the lab techs would have been there for hours. I was surprised to find the lab basically empty, until I looked at the calendar. I’d forgotten, because apparently my brain could only pay attention to two things: breathing and Oliver, that five o’clock is when the team meets to discuss the aspects of the day’s research and create a plan to move forward for the rest of the day.

I walked to the cafeteria and moved through the line. We were lucky to have such a great space in the middle of the company. Granted, it wasn’t the playground Google had in their offices, but at least we didn’t have to go out to regular restaurants and spend a ton of money while we were working. The cafeteria sold food basically at cost, and it was considered part of our benefits package. I grabbed a salad, a hamburger, and a plate of French fries. I thought about the red dress I had worn during one of my last dates with Oliver and thought the fries were maybe a bit much. Then again, it wasn’t like he was going to be seeing me in that dress anytime soon. So, the fries stayed.

I took a seat next to the glass panes that separated the cafeteria from the hallway, and I read the paper as I munched on my salad and fries. The burger stayed basically untouched until I looked up and remembered it was there. I took a break and sat back, looking at the hallway. People in white lab coats, suits, and jeans all walked by at various points. Then, my heart quickened in my chest. Oliver was walking down the hall with two other men and one woman, all dressed in expensive business suits. Oliver was pointing in first one direction and then the other, and it looked like he was giving a tour of the place.

He walked into the cafeteria, and I felt heat move through every cell in my body. I shifted in my seat to try to calm the arousal already brimming inside me. I watched him and waited for him to scan the room and see me. I could hear his voice; he was definitely giving a tour. It sounded like prospective investors. Both of the men were nodding vigorously at nearly everything Oliver said, and the woman was asking questions as she took notes on her iPad. I wondered if they were all in business together or if he was working on three separate investments.

And then he saw me, and every thought I’d ever had flew out of my mind. His eyes met mine and, though he managed to continue talking, I could tell his heart and thoughts had skipped a beat when his gaze settled on me. A small smile played at the corners of his lips, probably at the huge bite of hamburger creating chipmunk cheeks on my face. I blushed ferociously and put my hamburger down. I picked up my napkin and covered my mouth with it as I chewed furiously, trying to swallow the bite so I could smile and look presentable. Oliver never took his eyes off of me. He licked his lips, and I felt sound rushing in my ears. Was it possible to pass out when you were already sitting down? I thought my body was willing to give it a go, given that all the blood in my body was suddenly surging to the space between my legs. I uncrossed my legs and then recrossed them, feeling the pulse of arousal as my clit let me know it didn’t care if we were in the cafeteria at work or not; when Oliver was around, my clit was on duty.

He turned and, without a greeting or an acknowledgement, walked out. The group continued walking in the same direction they’d been heading, which meant that he walked right by me. He set his hand on the railing and gently tapped the glass with his fingertips. I shivered and sighed, feeling both incredibly horny and incredibly lonely at the same time.

My appetite was basically demolished, but I ate my hamburger anyway. After I finished my meal, I cleaned off my tray and walked back to the conference room where the lab assistants had their office. I turned on my laptop and opened my email. I had one blinking message… from Oliver.

Come to my office, it said.

I stared at it for a moment, trying to read a tone or some sort of meaning into it. He had sent it just moments ago, so it was possible his meeting with the investors had concluded. It was also possible that he needed something and just hadn’t wanted to come to the lab to get it. Normally he would have sent his assistant, but she had been calling in sick a lot lately, something I’d seen from the log sheet that recorded everyone’s attendance each day.

I stood up and walked to his office, stopping in the bathroom on my way. I looked halfway presentable, at least, but I still took a few moments to run my fingers through my hair and smooth out the eyeliner that had flaked off onto the spaces under my eyes. After a few minutes, I continued.

As usual, his assistant wasn’t at her desk. I checked his appointment calendar and saw that he had a few hours without any appointments. Then, I knocked on the door.

“Come in,” he said. His voice was muffled and distant, as if he was standing on the other side of the room. Of course, that was deceptive; the door was thick and sound proof; he could just as well been standing directly on the other side of it. I turned the knob and walked in. Oliver sat at his desk, looking up at me.

“Hello, Ms. Jasper,” Oliver said.

“Dr. Weeks,” I acknowledged. “How did your tour go?”

His eyes glistened and he smiled, his lips spreading apart to reveal his flawlessly white teeth. “It was successful,” he said. “The investors were extremely impressed.”

“That’s wonderful to hear, Sir,” I said formally. I continued to stand in the doorway of his office, since he hadn’t invited me to sit. “Can I help you with something? I… I got your email.”

My voice began to falter as he stood up and I saw the full length of his amazing body as it moved toward me.

“As a matter of fact,” he whispered, drawing me into his arms. “There’s one very specific thing you can help me with.” He leaned down and kissed me. I felt hot, passionate desire flow through me and any objection I’d had about his proximity or behavior was forgotten as I gave myself over to his kiss. I put my arms around his shoulders and brought my hands to his hair. His hair was dark, thick, and I loved to hold it in my hands.

He lifted me up and brought me to the desk. I thanked my brain for having the foresight to wear a short yet loose skirt. He set me on the desk and stood between my legs, spreading them. My body responded as though I’d just come through a desert and he was a pitcher of water. We were magnetized for each other, and I felt more calm than I had in weeks. I realized how hard I had been struggling to stay away from him.

“We’re breaking a rule,” I murmured through his kiss.

“I didn’t become a billionaire by following the rules,” he said back. He pressed a button on his desk and I heard the deadbolt of his office door click into place, then he laid me back on his desk, which was, of course, pristine. He looked down at me and I could see him practically salivating as he undid his belt and pants, letting them drop to the floor. He kept his eyes on me as he bent down to pick them up; of course he couldn’t let them wrinkle. I smiled as he folded them over the back of his desk chair.

“All in the details, right?” I asked.

“I have a business meeting in two hours,” he said. “That should give us just about enough time for me to remind you what a bad deal you made before when you told me we couldn’t do what I’m about to do to you.” His cock was rigid and standing straight out from his body. If it was possible, it was even bigger than I remembered from the last time we’d been together. I licked my lips hungrily for him.

He walked back toward me. I bent my knees and slid down toward the end of the desk. He slid his fingers into me easily; I was soaking wet with desire for him. He smiled and closed his eyes.

“You’re so wet,” he said.

“I’ve missed you,” I said. My voice sounded like not my own. It was lower and slower, as if the desire running through my body was overtaking even my vocal cords.

When he entered me, I felt my body both surge with energy and relax at the same time. If my body could have exclaimed ‘finally!’, it would have. My hips began to thrust against Oliver’s cock even before he drove into me. He stopped and cocked his head at me.

“We’re eager, aren’t we, kiddo?” he asked. He put his hands on my thighs and leaned down, kissing my inner thighs and brushing his lips across my wanting pussy. I groaned with pleasure and tension as he continued to tease me. My hips felt as though they had a life of their own.

“Please,” I gasped. He stopped and looked up at me.

“Please what?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips.

I looked at him, not knowing if he wanted me to be more specific in my request or if he wanted me to address him as Sir. I’d address him as King Oliver if he would just put his cock in me, so I did both.

“Please fuck me, Sir, fuck me as hard as you can, please.”

“Well,” he said, “since you asked nicely.” And he took both my hands and held them down at my sides, then he shoved his cock back into me, all the way to the base of his shaft. I cried out with the pleasure of him filling me, and the weight of his body as he held down my hands. He began to move against me, in and out, slowly and sensually at first, but then building his speed and intensity until it felt as though he was pressing his cock all the way up to my ribs. Each time he thrust, my body gasped, so full of the pleasure of it all I could barely remember to breathe.

The angle of his body as he held my hands allowed him to rub against my clit with each movement, and it was painfully fast that I felt my orgasm arriving. Once again, my brain and body went in two different directions, my body wanting the pleasure now, my brain wanting to hold off and enjoy the sensation of him inside me as long as possible. The idea of multiple orgasms crossed my mind; if there was ever a time for it to happen, it was now.

My orgasm flowed over me and I opened my eyes to watch Oliver. He was looking at me with determination and his own arousal, and, within a few moments, I felt his body stiffen and he cried out as he came, his fluids pumping into me. The additional wetness only served to heat my clit more and my orgasm continued on and on and on, until, what felt like minutes later, we both began to come down, sweating and out of breath.

Oliver

I couldn’t help it. When I saw her standing in my office doorway, I knew I needed to have her, our deal be damned. I would never have believed it possible for her to get more attractive, but I should have known. Things that are inaccessible to me are always more tempting to me than those that aren’t.

I had my way with her on the desk and watched her as she lost control of body, mind, and soul. Her eyes were beautiful and clouded with her arousal, and I wanted more than anything to take her as hard as I could; but I restrained myself, teasing her, and finally, only when she begged, did I satisfy both our desires.

Afterward, my desk was a disaster. I dressed and put things back in order, wiping down the edge of the desk. I had taken her so quickly all she needed to do to dress was put her panties back on and pull her skirt down, which she did, then bent down to help pick up the things from my desk that had fallen to the floor during our passionate fucking.

“Do you eat in the cafeteria often?” I asked her. The cafeteria was something we had begun just two years earlier, in response to the employees’ requests.

“I usually don’t,” she said. “It’s not hugely expensive, but if I ate there every day it would add up. I tend to bring my lunches and dinners; I just didn’t have time today.”

“What was taking up your time?” I watched her carefully. Was she dating someone? A stab of jealousy ran through me even before she’d answered the question. The nervous look that came over her eyes did not reassure me. I’ve spent a lot of years learning people, watching their subtle body movements, and Becka was surprisingly easy to read. She was hiding something; there was no question there. Her eyes were flicking back and forth and she blushed, even deeper than the flush of her sexual gratification.

“I was doing some work on my dissertation,” she said quickly. “But my computer has a virus on it, so I had to stop. It was a good thing, too, because I’d have been late to getting to the lab if I hadn’t stopped when I did.

“Late, huh?” I said, pausing to move a lock of her hair from the side of her cheek. “You know the penalties for tardiness are very… stiff.”

She blushed more deeply, but this was a blush of arousal, not of embarrassment. “You’re a bad influence on me, Oliver,” she whispered.

“Let me take you to dinner,” I said suddenly. I’d had an idea… one that had been floating in my mind for more than a week. Becka’s presence in my office seemed right. My current assistant, Megan, had been incredibly flaky lately. I didn’t know why; I hadn’t asked. She’d been showing up late, forgetting to communicate with me about various aspects of the business, and, worst of all, she’d double booked me for two extremely important meetings. I knew Becka’s interest in Neuotova was from the food science perspective, not the secretarial, but perhaps there was a way I could convince her that it would work to her advantage.

She hesitated at my invitation, looking at me somewhat suspiciously. “Why?” she asked.

“Because we like each other, and I think we can both agree that it’s been a long few weeks, month even, without being able to respond to each other in the way that feels most natural. I often take employees out for coffee, so we can do that if you prefer, but I enjoy eating meals and I know you do too.”

“Nothing fancy,” she said. “Nothing where you’re going to order for me twelve hours in advance.”

“Deal,” I said, smiling. She hated that I’d ordered food for her at two of the restaurants I’d taken her before we made our agreement that she would intern at Neuotova and, as a paid internship, we would no longer be intimate. “Tomorrow night?”

She agreed, and I unlocked the door and she went back to her section of the building. I looked at my assistant’s desk and was not surprised to see it empty. I had no idea where she was, and a swell of anger arose in me. I was going to have to fire her… and I was going to replace her with Becka.

***

Monday morning when I walked into my office, Becka was sitting at Megan’s old desk. She smiled when she saw me, but her smile was strained. Getting her to agree to be my assistant hadn’t been easy, but, eventually, she had complied. I’d taken her to the restaurant of her choice, a diner just off campus that served surprisingly good, albeit greasy, food. We’d had burgers and beer and I was once again surprised by her ability to be perfectly comfortable in a cocktail dress and in jeans and a sweater.

I’d proposed the idea of being my assistant by asking if she was facing any limitations with her research. Again, her energy had shifted just as it had in my office and I sensed she was holding something back as she agreed, slowly, that, yes, she was facing some limitations. I asked if she would like to have full access to all of Neuotova’s resources. I, of course, had never given that privilege to Megan, but it was possible on the computer system in my office, to which my assistant’s computer was linked, for my assistant to have full access to the majority of documents in the system. Not my private files, obviously, but anything that would help her with her dissertation could be at her fingertips.

She had looked at me suspiciously. “What do I need to do to gain this access?” she asked.

“Simple,” I said. “Become my assistant. Megan has completely flaked out and I can no longer trust her. I need a new assistant anyway, and I do trust you.” I shrugged, trying to make it seem as though it was the most natural thing in the world and not in complete violation of our agreement.

“I can’t believe you expect me to agree to that,” she said.

But, after some convincing, and her taking some time to think things over, she had agreed and now, here she sat at her desk, just twenty feet from my own, looking absolutely edible in black pants and a peach sweater that highlighted every curve from her waist to her neck and back again.

“Good morning, Dr. Weeks,” she said politely. Her tone was docile but her eyes flashed fire. I knew she wasn’t entirely happy with how I had altered our arrangement. But, I also couldn’t help but notice that she was there, which meant she was at least willing to do it. The question now was, would I be able to keep my hands off of her when she was so close to me. Somehow, I doubted it.

Becka

Oliver walked into his office looking like the cat that had eaten the canary, looking me up and down and smiling victoriously. I glared at him, but I knew full well that I had worn my most flattering pants and a sweater that bordered on office inappropriate. We were both playing the game; I couldn’t fault him… much.

“Good morning, Dr. Weeks,” I said.

“Good morning, Miss Jasper. Do you have any questions about where anything is?” His smile was pleasant; anyone walking by would think the exchange was nothing more than a boss checking in with his assistant. My body knew otherwise, though, as each step closer Oliver took to me was ratcheting up my arousal significantly.

“No, Sir, I think I’m okay for now. You have a phone conference in about ten minutes. Do you need coffee or breakfast?” I had read through Megan’s calendars and knew that she brought Oliver coffee religiously at 8:45am unless he was in a physical meeting with clients at the time.

“I’m fine for now, thank you. For the sake of office comfort, let’s dispense with some of the formalities; is that all right with you, Becka?”

Hearing his voice sent a shiver through me. “Yes… Oliver.” I said.

“Excellent. I’m going to email you a list of people I need you to contact for me to set up meetings; please work with their schedules and accommodate them. As you can see, my schedule for next week is fairly open; I had a business trip get cancelled.”

“Certainly, S-Oliver.”

As soon as he went into his office, I opened the company documents file that had a shortcut on my desktop. That file was the reason I was sitting in that chair; Oliver had promised me greater access to the company’s background, research, and projects. I was hoping I would find something that would either fill in some of the holes in my own research or, best case scenario, I would find something that would exonerate Oliver from my suspicions that somewhere in this company, this building or an external warehouse, animals were being used for experimentation.

I also had some lessons to plan. Dr. Evans had contacted me about picking up a class for the new term. It would be a fairly basic class; a food science ethics class for students in their first year of the program. The students would be juniors, and all had declared food science as their major.

“I think you’ll bring something fresh to the class,” Dr. Evans had said as she’d handed me a zip drive with all of the class’s files on it. I had to admit, I was a bit excited to teach. It would break up the monotony of working for Neuotova and would, perhaps, help my dissertation.

I spent the day trying to ignore the fact that I was on the other side of Oliver’s door. He, for his part, did not leave his office often. We communicated primarily by email and intercom; I announced to him when clients were ready for their meetings, and once when one of the research team leaders had stopped by wondering if he had some time.

At five o’clock, I gathered my things. I knocked on Oliver’s door quietly.

“Come in,” he said, and I pushed the door open.

“I’m leaving for the night, unless you can think of anything else you have for me to do,” I said, and I felt a blush creep up into my face. I was sure he could think of lots of things he had for me to do; the same went for me. But, it was a necessary question for an assistant to ask her boss.

His eyes were bright and he smiled, his lips pressing out into a smooth line. “That will be all for today, Becka. Great job on your first day. What are your plans for tonight?”

“I’m actually going straight back to campus; I’m teaching an ethics class this term as part of my criteria for my degree.”

“Ethics? Well, that sounds stimulating,” Oliver said. He drummed his fingers on his desk, pressing his fingertips into the exact spot my ass had been when he’d been fucking me only days earlier. My blush deepened.

“I’m hoping it’s a good class,” I said. “I’ve been preparing what I think are interesting lessons…”

“A secretary and a teacher,” he said. “You’re quite the fantasy woman.”

I shook my head. “Bad, bad influence,” I whispered, breaking character from the standoffish, disinterested assistant for just a moment to let him see exactly how much he was torturing me.

He smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Becka. I hope you have a good class tonight. Maybe I’ll come sit in on it.”

I rolled my eyes and closed his door. He would never.

***

Three hours later, I stood in front of a podium as my students filtered into the room. I was in a lecture hall type of classroom, but the class wasn’t full by any stretch; there were only about fifteen students.

“I think the first thing I’m going to do is try to get us a smaller classroom,” I said. “What do you all think?” The students nodded in agreement. I invited them to all come down to sit together in the first two rows, and I pushed the podium aside, opting instead to sit at the table in front of the group.

Ethan caught my eye almost immediately. I liked to think it was because he sat front and center, but, truthfully, I think it was because he was absolutely gorgeous. Easily so; he sat back, completely unaware, or pretending to be, of the students around him falling all over themselves to sit beside him. I didn’t know his name until I called roll, and, even then, he barely responded. He was looking at me, and he nodded his head just slightly, a gesture that reminded me of how Oliver might act at a meeting.

“Welcome, Ethan,” I said. “Andrea?” I called out the next name.

After class, Ethan approached me as I was gathering up my things and answering logistical questions for a few remaining students.

“Hi, Professor Jasper,” he said. “Good class.”

“Thank you… Ethan?” I asked, pretending to be unsure of his name. Pretending I hadn’t spent most of the class admiring his thick, brown hair and piercing green eyes. His jawline, and the way his shoulders and chest filled his oxford shirt that hung untucked over jeans.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“You can call me Becka,” I said. I wasn’t technically a professor, though none of my students needed to know that. My bio had been artfully written to show that I was, if anything, more of a consultant.

“I read that you work at Neuotova,” he said. “Is that true?”

“It is,” I said, throwing my bag over my shoulder. “I’ve worked there for a few months in their research department.”

“So are you doing animal testing and experimentation as a part of your research?” He asked the question so matter of factly, so easily, I almost missed it entirely. I stared at him.

“What?” I asked.

“I think you heard me. Neuotova is on a watch list for several animal rights organizations because of allegations of animal cruelty. How can you teach a food science ethics class and admit that you work for Neuotova?”

“Allegations are not fact, Ethan. As a researcher of anything, it’s important to avoid making assumptions when the facts are readily available. There has been no direct evidence linking Neuotova to any type of experimentation, testing, cruelty, or anything illegal involving animals. Believe me, if there was, I would have found it.”

I couldn’t believe I’d said that last statement, and I was hoping Ethan had missed it, though by the way his eyes widened, he hadn’t.

“So you do know of the allegations. And you’ve been checking them out? Are you working from the inside?”

“Ethan,” I said, beginning to walk to the door. “This is not a conspiracy or a television show. Of course I’m aware of the allegations. Every food science company is accused of animal experimentation at one time or another.” I was focusing my energy on keeping my voice level and calm as I hurried toward the exit. “It goes with the territory. I’m not working from the inside, spying, or doing anything other than researching for my dissertation.” And fucking the CEO, my brain squealed gleefully. “I would suggest that you spend your time studying the facts, then making assumptions based on what those facts reveal, rather than turning faulty assumptions into the facts themselves. You are, after all, going to be a researcher.”

“Of course, Becka,” he said, his tone still easy and smooth as can be. I was rattled on the inside, but, if he was, he wasn’t showing it. “Thank you for your insights. I’m really looking forward to learning from you. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

I nodded and smiled, then pushed through the door into the parking lot. I walked to my car without looking back, though I was sure I could still feel Ethan’s eyes boring a hole into my back. I started my car and sat back, leaning my head against the head rest. I felt heat moving through my body, but I couldn’t tell if it was arousal or nervousness. Actually, that wasn’t true; it was arousal. I shook my head, unwilling to admit that Ethan had been able to get under my skin so quickly. There was something about him, something unique, that reminded me a little bit of Oliver, but, even more, it was something unnerving. He was so confident, so calm. He was only 21, give or take, and he moved, spoke, and acted as though he knew all the secrets of the universe.

On the way home, I formulated a plan. Perhaps Ethan was my gateway into a conversation with Oliver. Maybe, if I told Oliver about how Ethan had approached me, and maybe if I… I don’t know, exaggerated? how aggressive his accusations had been, maybe Oliver would show me the evidence I needed, not just for Ethan, but for myself.

I parked my car and walked into my apartment. Lisa was gone again; I swore I hadn’t seen her in ages. I took out my phone to text Oliver, but he had beaten me to it. While I was driving home, he had sent me a message.

How was class? it said. Perfect, I thought.

It was interesting, I typed back. A student approached me about Neuotova’s position on the ethical treatment of animals.

Oh?

I said as far as I knew, Neuotova adamantly opposed animal experimentation of any kind. But he was pretty insistent that Neuotova is on some type of list with animal rights people that say the company basically boils bunnies.

I shot him the Fatal Attraction reference to keep the mood light. My stomach was crawling with anxiety; I couldn’t believe I was pushing at this directly with Oliver. If he somehow found out that this was not my first level of interest, if he found out I’d actually been researching for weeks and finding that Ethan’s claims were not completely fictional… well, I didn’t know what the consequences would be.

What are you doing right now? he texted.

I’m at home, why?

Meet me. Billy’s Grill. Twenty minutes.

I stared at my phone. Billy’s was the restaurant we’d eaten at during our last date, which wasn’t supposed to be a date at all because of our agreement. We hadn’t had sex, but the heat between us had been undeniable. And, of course, since then we had had sex. My body began to pulse with desire for him.

See u soon, I texted, then rushed to the bathroom to freshen my make up and my hair. Considering I’d worked all day and then taught class all evening, I didn’t think I looked half bad. But, looking at my watch, I needed to get going or I’d be late.

It turns out, I was a little late anyway. Or Oliver was early. Either way, he was waiting for me in a private booth in the back corner of Billy’s. He had ordered some appetizers, a detail I let slide as I sat down. He smiled at me, his same, easy grin lighting up his face.

“It’s a little late for dinner,” I said, nodding at the food.

“If you think of this as dinner,” he quipped, “I’m not sure you should be qualified as a food scientist anytime soon. I’m not even sure this is food.” He held up a buffalo wing dripping with orange hot sauce and made a face. I laughed.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to upset you with the comments my student made. He was just trying to impress the teacher on the first day, I’m sure.”

“What was his name?”

“His name?” I asked, confused. “Ethan. Why?”

Oliver’s face tightened and I saw his jaw flex. He exhaled and took a sip of the beer the server had just delivered. “Ethan what?”

“What?”

“What’s Ethan’s last name, Becka.” His tone was low and steady. Calm to anyone else, but I could tell he was seething with anger.

“Um…” I thought, straining to remember. “Hernandez.” It came into my mind in a flash, along with his green eyes and confident slouch. I shifted in my seat.

“He’s a student in your ethics class?” Oliver’s eyes narrowed and he stared at me. I shifted again, this time out of discomfort. His gaze was hard and penetrating; I felt like I was on the stand in a courtroom being cross examined.

“Yes, he’s a student, Oliver, what’s going on?”

Oliver looked around, looking for anyone who might hear. He dropped his voice lower, and I had to lean forward and strain to hear him.

“Ethan Hernandez is a con man. He’s been trying to take down Neuotova for more than three years. At first, we thought he was just an innocent teenager; we first heard about him when he was in high school. He calls himself an activist, but, really, he goes after corporations and accuses them of animal rights violations. He creates evidence, or what he calls evidence, that threatens the success of the company. Companies are forced to pay him to keep silent. Essentially, he’s an extortionist.”

As I listened to Oliver, I felt my brain pull in two directions. This was not at all what I had expected him to say. Was he telling the truth? Or was he, like me, using Ethan as a way to convince me of his version of the truth, just like I was trying to use Ethan to get more information about Neuotova’s potential involvement in unethical animal experimentation?

My attention came back in a flash as Oliver slammed his beer on the table. “Dammit,” he cursed under his breath. “Think carefully,” he said. “What did you tell him? Word for word.”

My mind blanked for a moment, but then I was able to recall and tell him the gist of what I had told Ethan. I was grateful that I could tell Oliver the truth, that I had taken his side in my conversation with Ethan.”

“And I basically finished by telling him that he needed to get his facts straight and not make accusations based on assumptions.”

“Good girl, Becka,” Oliver said, finally smiling a genuine smile. “I may need to hire you as a negotiator one of these days.” He saw my ready objection and smiled. “I’m kidding,” he said, “though you would be extremely good at it.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I had no idea that he existed, or that there was anything to his claims. I just thought he was a cocky kid trying to impress me.” I left out the part where I thought he was so attractive I’d spent at least a part of the class imagining him between my legs.

“You did very well, Becka, not that I’m surprised in the least.”

Oliver

I kissed Becka goodbye at her car. Of course I wanted to take her home with me, but I had a lot of thinking and planning to do. I should have anticipated that Ethan and Becka would cross paths at some point. And in her ethics class! His gall was unbelievable. All the way home, I seethed, trying to control my anger. I thought I’d taken care of Ethan; I’d have to check back through my records, but we had been paying Ethan for over a year, ever since he had discovered the truth and threatened to expose Neuotova to the world.

When I got back to my home office, I called one of my business partners immediately and explained. “He’s going after my employees. My new personal assistant is a teacher at the local college, and he planted himself in her class. Tonight he started asking her all sorts of questions.”

I heard a sharp intake of breath on Richard’s end of the phone. “Your new personal assistant is Ethan’s teacher?” he asked, repeating the crux of what I had just said. “Can your new assistant be trusted?”

“Becka is beyond reproach,” I said sharply. “She is not the issue. The issue is, this little maniac is infiltrating Neuotova from as close to the inside as he can get. He ambushed her after class and tried to fill her head with lies.”

“What do you want done?” Richard asked.

“Whatever is necessary. I need this little rat out of my way. Get him arrested, get him thrown out of school, get him deported to Mexico. Whatever you need to do.”

“I’m not sure he’s an illegal,” Richard said dryly.

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever,” I said. “I’m going to deal with Becka; I’m trusting you to deal with Ethan Hernandez.”

How I planned to deal with Becka was by taking her on vacation for two weeks while Richard took care of Ethan. She would balk at it, I was sure, but I needed her to not be in contact with Ethan until my partner had reached an agreement with him.

***

The next day, I stopped by Becka’s desk. She had my coffee waiting promptly at 8:45, and I smiled at her.

“Come on into my office,” I invited. “I have a proposition for you.” I tried to hide my smile as she began to blush immediately, a red flare moving from her gorgeous, full cleavage all the way up her slender neck and into her cheeks. “You can keep your clothes on,” I whispered, though there was no one around.

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed,” she said as she stood up and followed me into my office, “but you can do plenty of damage without removing my clothes.”

I smiled and nodded, acknowledging that I knew exactly the type of damage I could do. I sat on my desk in the exact same spot she had occupied, and I looked at her.

“I need to go away for two weeks. To Italy. There are some oils I want to check out from an investor, and the only way to confirm that everything is on the level is to see them for myself.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “What will you need me to do while you’re gone?”

“I want you to come with me,” I said.

Her eyes widened and she smiled as if she couldn’t believe she’d heard me correctly. “I can’t do that, Oliver, I have class. And I have a job.” She pointed out the door to her desk.

I stood and walked around my desk so I was just a few inches from her. I leaned against my desk and lined my foot up against hers. I could tell she felt it because the flush in her face deepened. It was a risk on my end; I was incredibly aroused myself, and getting closer to her was only increasing that arousal.

“Get a sub,” I said. “And you’ll be working for me while we’re there. I can’t go without my assistant.” I looked at her as if the matter was settled; in my mind, it was.

“Does this have anything to do with Ethan?” she asked. “Because if it does, you don’t need to worry. I won’t let him ask me any more questions. If he gets aggressive, I’ll call campus security or something.”

“I want you to come to Italy with me,” I whispered, leaning in to her. I took her hands and she stood up; I pulled her in to me. I knew she could feel my cock, hard and wanting her, against her leg. I put my hands on her ass, full and supple beneath my palms, and I squeezed her toward me. Her breasts felt like warm pillows against my chest and I kissed her warm, wet mouth.

“I’ll find a sub,” she said. “But it might take me a few days.”

“Not a problem,” I said. “Go make the calls you need to make.”

She turned and walked out of my office, her gorgeous ass swaying back and forth in her skirt. I watched her until she sat back at her desk, then I got on my computer and began making a list of things to do in Italy.

Becka

I couldn’t believe how quickly the week went; before I knew it, I had packed, found a sub, gotten to the airport, taken a plane to Italy, and now, here I was, standing at baggage claim with people speaking Italian all around me and Oliver at my side.

“Our driver should be here already,” Oliver was saying. “He’s our private driver for the entire time we’re here. Though I thought we could rent a car over the weekend and take it for a ride in the country.” He leaned down and kissed me. My body, as it always did, sank toward him as though it was coming home after a long day at work.

We grabbed our bags and loaded them onto a cart, then walked toward transportation. Right away, I spotted our driver. He was a dark skinned, dark haired, very tall, very handsome Italian man. He spoke perfect English with a thick accent. He greeted us, paying particular attention to Oliver, then drove us to Tuscany.

We were staying in a private house, a mansion, as it turned out. I was surprised, but then chided myself; would I ever stop being surprised at Oliver’s expensive lifestyle? The house was beautiful. It had a pool, a vineyard, and a kitchen where I could easily see a Michelin star chef cooking meal after meal. Oliver gave me a tour of the parts he had seen from the rental agent, and we explored the rest.

The bedroom was decorated in dark colors, rich tapestries hung on the walls and the king sized bed was clearly the centerpiece of the room. Oliver turned to me and kissed me. He walked me over to the bed and I sat down, then pulled him in with me.

“I’m hungry,” I said. “I want you.”

“We can eat anything we want, whenever we want. I’m here for work, but you’re basically here on vacation. I’ll need you sometimes… who am I kidding, I’ll need you all the time… but you won’t be working very often.” He smiled, flirtation in his tone, and he kissed me. I pulled my sweatshirt off over my head and revealed to him that I had opted to not wear my bra on the plane. He smiled, and whistled quietly.

He cupped my breasts with his hands and drew them together. The stretch on my muscles combined with his touch, his hot breath so close to me, hardened my nipples and started the rest of my body moving toward its highest aroused state. It wasn’t just Oliver; it was the entire thing. Italy. A beautiful private mansion in Tuscany. Oliver. I laid back on the bed and slid my yoga pants off, revealing a black lace g-string. He moaned and yanked his pants and shirt off as I pulled my panties down and tossed them on the other side of the bed.

“Your body keeps getting more beautiful every time I see it,” he said. “What kind of witchcraft is that?”

I took his cock in my hand and began to stroke the shaft, cupping it loosely in my palm. His cock was hard and hot, and I used my other hand to cup his sack. Its thin skin was cool to the touch, but warmed quickly. I shimmied down and he rolled over so I could take him into my mouth. As I licked his shaft, he laid back, but he kept his hands on my body, touching my skin. The connection of his fingers to my flesh sent continued waves of pleasure rocking through me, and I increased my attention to his cock. It was throbbing with my touch, and I knew he was close to coming.

I knew guys, Oliver in particular, were tremendously visual. I twisted my head so he could see me move my lips over and around his shaft, flipping my hair over my shoulder to give him an uninterrupted view.

“Oh, Becka,” he moaned. “You are so fucking gorgeous.” I smiled, releasing my lips from his cock and licking it with my tongue instead. I licked up and down, bringing my palm to his sensitive head, red and dripping already with pre-cum. That small change pushed him even closer, and he reached for the back of my head, directing me to suck him once again. I complied, plunging his cock deep in my mouth and quickly bobbing my head forward and back. I felt his cum moving and he cried out, grabbing the back of my head and holding me in place as he came, his fluids pushing into my mouth. I swallowed, savoring his juices, and smiling as I finished. The final touch, I used my index finger to wipe away the non-existent cum at the corner of my mouth.

He laid back, breathless, then he sat up suddenly and grabbed me, flipping me over onto my back. I burst out giggling as he tickled me, then he stopped and guided my legs open. He reached for each of my ankles and put them over his shoulders, then he began to pleasure me. He took his time, beginning at the base of my inner thigh and licking slowly, alternating his licks with gentle, sucking kisses that drove me wild. I pushed my hips down toward him, opening my pussy to him, and he brought his mouth closer, teasing, then pulled away. I groaned.

My legs were spread wide and I knew I was wet enough to be ready for him to fuck me, but he was still recovering from his own orgasm, so he was pleasuring me in the meantime. He finally finished teasing me with kissing my thighs and brought his mouth to my pussy. Each lick, each movement of his tongue, sent waves of pleasure surging through me. I was hot, sweating already, waiting for what I knew was an inevitable conclusion.

He pressed his tongue into my pussy and wiggled it around, his nose gently bumping against my clit. I gasped and pressed toward him. He began to lick my clit and, at the same time, slid his fingers, first one, then two, then finally a third, into my pussy. He finger fucked me slowly as his tongue swirled circles around my clit. My body felt complete sensory overload in the best possible way, and I began to moan as my climax surged through me. He continued, lapping up my wetness as I moved through my first orgasm and directly into my second.

“Fuck,” I cried out. “Oh my God, you feel so fucking good!” I had a grip on his shoulders and I clawed at him, my moans dissolving into gasping sighs.

Then, he entered me. My eyes popped open and he smiled, bringing his lips to mine.

“Surprise,” he said, and I laughed. Then, we both grew serious as we moved together, our bodies adhered to one another with sweat and heat, our timing perfectly in sync. His cock filled me and I felt his pubic bone rubbing against my clit; I knew I wasn’t going to be able to last long. He couldn’t either; as soon as I began to fall over the cliff of my orgasm, he followed me with his own. We cried out together, still glued to one another, and moved through our pleasure’s fruition simultaneously.

When we were finished, we were exhausted and slept, the strain of the travel finally pushing us to the wall. When I awoke, it was daylight in Tuscany. I got out of bed and walked naked to the entry way, where our luggage still sat from the night before.

“Leave it,” Oliver said. I turned and he stood, naked, his cock at attention, his muscles hard and his skin tan. I looked at him, a questioning expression on my face. “Let’s go for a swim.”

“My bathing suit is in here,” I said, pointing to my suitcase.

“You don’t need a bathing suit,” he said. “You’re in Italy. And you’re in the privacy of your own home.”

“The pool is outside,” I pointed out.

“You’re in Italy,” he said, as if that settled it.

We went for a skinny dip in the pool, then Oliver made a call to have some food delivered while I showered. We ate in our bathrobes and I realized I didn’t think I’d ever been that hungry in my entire life.

“What would you like to do today?” he asked. “Take a drive? Go shopping?”

“Fuck you silly?” I added, matching my tone to his.

He laughed and I grinned, raising my mimosa to him.

“You’re insatiable,” he said. And he was right, though I had never experienced that sensation before. As I stared at him across the table, I realized I literally could not get enough of Oliver Weeks. I needed him with me, near me, inside me.

“Let’s go for a drive through the country. You can point out some of the places you’ve already been, and we can eat. Because, though this probably won’t surprise you much, I’m starving again.”

We dressed and got ready for the drive. Oliver called for a car, a sporty red fiat convertible, as it turned out, and I pulled my hair back into a bun and applied the most basic make up I could. We drove and Oliver pointed out restaurants we needed to return to, vineyards of some of my favorite wines, and the home of one of the men he needed to meet with while we were here in Italy.

I couldn’t believe where we were, but, every few miles there were signs on the side of the road for Rome, Milan, and cities I’d never heard of. The sun was bright in the sky and I leaned my head back against the seat, absorbing the sun’s light and basking in the most perfect moments of my life.

When we got back, I showered and Oliver went to the dining room to do some work. I figured I could check my email and perhaps do some work on my dissertation while he was occupied. I hadn’t gotten my phone adaptable to international texting, so all of my communication while we were here had to be over email.

I had messages from my mom and from Lisa, and a few from students wondering if I was going to be coming back, though they were complimenting the sub I had gotten. I wasn’t surprised; the sub was a professor emeritus and was well versed in all matters of food science. They were in good hands.

Then, I saw a name that chilled me. Ethan Hernandez. I clicked on the message and opened it.

Hello, Becka,
I understand you’re on holiday in Italy… how nice for you. I was just over at Neuotova the other day and was told that the CEO, Oliver Weeks, is on a business trip, also to Italy. Small world full of big coincidences, don’t you agree?
When you return, I’d like to meet with you. I have some documents I think you’d find very interesting, especially considering how convinced you are that Neuotova is completely innocent of any activities involving cruelty to animals.
I look forward to sitting down with you and sharing what I know to be fact.
Sincerely,
Ethan Hernandez

I stared at my computer, my eyes wide. My first instinct was to call Oliver, to have him read the message himself. But, I hesitated. I still had heavy suspicions about Oliver and Neuotova’s practices. If I told Oliver about Ethan’s email, odds were I would never be able to have that meeting with Ethan to find out what he knew. And, did I want to have that meeting?

I realized that yes, I did. And I hid the message in a folder full of messages from Lisa. I turned off my computer and stood up, then walked to the dining room where Oliver was working. He saw me coming and closed the lid of his laptop; I found that fascinating, but I didn’t say anything.

“I’m hungry,” I said instead.

“Oh?” Oliver asked. “What are you craving?”

I smiled.