A Girl's Fetish For Billionaires

What can be this Bambang Wang scheme? If it meant us spending more time together, however… I was okay with that. Greedily, I allowed myself to indulge in the memory of his arm around me, his body against mine. He was so damn handsome.

I've always fantasized getting intimate with hot middle-aged billionaires.

This was just all so unbelievable. He was so handsome and sophisticated and wealthy, and I was just so… me.

It felt like I'd been seated at the desk for ten years when the click of Olivia's heels once again approaches. Oh, lord. She probably saw me drifting off into a daydream. I steel myself ungracefully for a tongue thrashing, but the woman is still strangely distracted.

"Chunhua, Mr. Wang wants to see you." She announces with a clear of her throat.

"What for?" I ask slowly, biting my lip. Was he already taking back the agreement? Had he already decided he didn't want me?

I couldn't blame him. Who would want me when you could have anyone in the entire world?

Olivia just gave a light shrug, gesturing towards the hallway where Mr. Wang's office waited.

"Good luck." She calls after me, her eyes lingering on my back as I knock on his office door and step inside.

"Um, hello again, sir. Long time no see." I chuckle lamely, meeting Mr. Wang's dark eyes from where he sits across the room behind his huge desk, though he makes it look as tiny as a doll's.

"I have another offer for you, Chunhua." He says slowly, leaning forward so his hands fold on the wood before him, "I want you to be my personal assistant."

"…Your personal assistant?" I echo after him slowly, turning the words over in my head as though they were foreign, "You think I can really handle that?"

He stands, walking slowly around the corner of his desk.

Mr. Wang is many things, a demanding perfectionist being one of them. I could barely handle being an accounts in-charge in this place. How could I keep up with being his personal assistant?

He steps closer, my heart going crazy in my c.h.e.s.t. He stands before me, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over my entire body.

"I'll teach you." He murmurs, scent of his husky cologne making my nose tingle. I inhale it, head going foggy as the room slowly begins to spin.

Mr. Wang has a way of throwing me so off course, like I'm adrift at sea and can't spot any land. I can see nothing but him before me, I can hear nothing but his voice, smell nothing but his masculine musk. And it lights me on fire to the very core.

"What will I do?" I ask, voice so quivery and soft I can barely hear it myself.

A handsome smirk crosses his face as his hands slide out slowly from his pockets, gliding across my h.i.p.s as I bite back a whimper. My legs turn to jello underneath me, almost heaving me towards the ground.

His simple touch is too much for me. I can feel the roughness of his fingertips even over the fabric of the skirt and all I want is him to rake those fingers over every inch of my body.

"You will assist me in all things… personal." He chuckles and for a second I'm thrown by his attempt at a joke, but when I gaze into his fiery eyes, I realize it's not a joke at all.

"Like how?" I ask, though I already know the answer and I can barely contain myself.

His smirk turns to a frown, his warm hands abandoning their place on my h.i.p.s as coolness washes over me.

"You ask too many questions." He mutters, eyes glinting darkly in the fluorescent lights above us, "You forget that I'm the one in charge here."

"I'm sorry." I murmur, almost taking a step closer to him.

He draws me in, like a magnet, or a moth to a dangerous light.

"I'm sorry, sir." He corrects sharply, taking a step away from me.

"I'm sorry, sir." I repeat dutifully, eyes following every move that he makes, "I'm a quick learner." I add with a smile, "I'm sure I'm up to whatever tasks you need from me."

He meets my eyes shrewdly, his lips pursed tight.

"Are you sure?" He questions, as I nod diligently.

Giving a slight humph, he walks over to his desk, bending down and tugging free a cardboard box. Though it's huge and looks quite heavy, he lifts it with ease and places it down on the desk before him.

"What's that?" I ask, before I realize that I once again have questioned him.

He whirls on his heel, grabbing my arm and dragging me against him. I bump into his c.h.e.s.t, breath caught in my throat as I gaze up towards him.

"What have I told you?" He mutters, his fingers clasped tight around my wrist though I don't draw away. I can't draw away. "No questions."