In Service To The Billionaire by Heather Chase Read Free Book Online Page B

“Someone’s come prepared.”
    “I thought I would try and be a little more professional—and follow the rules a bit closely today.”
    Julie smiled. “That’s a good attitude to have. He’s ready for his morning coffee, I think.”
    “Yes,” said Sophia. “I know.”
    All that studying last night wasn't for nothing, after all.
    Quickly, she made and then delivered the coffee, her heels snapping on the cool tiles inside of Sand’s office.
    He barely looked up as she approached, buried inside of some mound of paperwork.
    “Here’s your coffee, Sir.”
    She breathed out the word “Sir,” and intentionally capitalized it in her head. She wanted him to feel the respect flowing out of her for him. She needed him to know, one way or the other, how badly she desired his thick hard cock up inside of her cunt, giving her direction, telling her how to feel.
    To have a real dom, a real live dom, right there in front of her—it took all her strength not to fall on her knees and beg for him to choke her hot slut throat with his cock.
    “Thank you,” he said, still not looking up.
    She waited for a few seconds—as the rules instructed—and then began to walk away, just slightly exaggerating her natural strut to give a hot, enticing sway to her ass.
    When she stopped at the door, she turned her head just slightly to see if he had been watching her. She thought she could explain it, if he caught her, by saying she thought she heard him say something.
    Sure enough, his eyes were glued firmly on her ass. She caught him.
    He noticed her catching him—and didn’t seem to care at all. His eyes met hers, challenging her briefly. A hot, satisfied smile briefly crossed her lips and she slipped back out into the office.
    There was lots of work to do. Data to file, paperwork to hand out, mail to rearrange, that sort of thing. Some emails and phone calls went directly to Sand on his private number, but his public address and number went directly to her desk. A large part of her job to screen the mail and calls directed to him from those who didn't have his private number and decide who was actually important enough to bother her boss. If they weren’t important enough, then she would put them on hold indefinitely. Eventually, they would hang up.
    If someone went through this process three times, then they would be upgraded to being put on a to-call list for Mr. Sand, which was hundreds of people long. Someone would rise from the bottom to the top of a given list within six-to-eight weeks, most of the time.
    It seemed a cruel way to handle business, but it wasn't Sophia's place to question. And she didn't want to give Sand the wrong idea about the kind of girl she was—the kind that would question his dominance.
    Oh no, she couldn't even hint at that.
    The atmosphere in the office, generally speaking, was still congenial as it had been the day before, but Sophia had noticed a serious feeling of stress leaking beneath the surface.
    In her work, she found that everyone’s placement inside of the office—aside from Julie, who had to be at the front for reception—was determined by how important Sand thought they were to him. This was an ever-shifting arrangement, she had learned, such that every Monday that a person came in and saw their name plate on their desk in the same place, they breathed a sigh of relief (or possibly frustration, when they had to go search around for their new desk).
    It was her job, she found out, to rearrange people should Sand desire.
    “How’s it going, dear?”
    Sophia looked up from the pile of paperwork in front of her to see Julie’s bright, smiling face. Sophia attempted her own smile.
    “It’s going all right. I’m just still trying to measure up, you know?”
    “Oh,” Julie waved a hand. “I wouldn't worry so much about that.”
    “Are you kidding?” Sophia laughed. “He already thinks I'm unqualified after the bumbly mess I acted like yesterday, and now it's all regaining ground.”