The Seduction Read online

  The Seduction

  By

  {Michelle S. Smith}

  Darcie Hale knew that the first time she laid eyes on Ardon Stone, she was in trouble. He was handsome, he was powerful, and he was arrogant as all hell. He was also her boss.

  She’d taken the job because she needed it, but she also had something to prove. Having come out of a serious relationship that shattered her self esteem, she’d needed to throw herself into something, and that something happened to be work.

  When she’d interviewed for the secretarial position of the CEO of Stone Enterprises, she’d been expecting to work hard and be appreciated. The pay was amazing, and the view from the nineteenth floor was breathtaking.

  Darcie worked harder than she’d ever worked in her life.

  But her pompous ass of a boss didn’t appreciate her. Or at least, he didn’t show it. He simply strutted around with perfectly styled honey blonde hair and deep ocean eyes, clad in pristine crisp suits barking orders at anyone who was in his vicinity.

  She knew that she shouldn’t have expected much appreciation from a man that probably wiped his ass with hundred dollar bills. He did pay her, didn’t he? That should have been enough.

  She shook herself from her reverie and straightened the tablet on her desk. She had more than a few emails to write today, and she had to keep a clear head.

  “Darcie, where are the Trig accounts?” Ardon’s no-nonsense voice sliced through her speakerphone, and she rolled her eyes. She’d never have the guts to do that in front of him, but from this side of the oak wall she felt secluded and bold.

  “I put them on your desk this morning, Mr. Stone,” she replied, her voice sweet as honey.

  “They’re not here,” he snapped, and she raised her middle finger at the phone.

  “Would you like me to print out new ones, Mr. Stone?” Darcie sometimes wanted to punch herself in the face from how compliant she was with this man. He was her boss, so she took his shit. But that didn’t mean inside she had to like it.

  “No, I don’t want you to print me new ones,” he replied with a sigh. “I want the- oh, found them.” Click.

  He didn’t say thank you, or apologize for insinuating that she hadn’t done her job, or anything like that. Just hung up on her.

  Darcie sighed and twisted a lock of her copper hair around a perfectly manicured finger. At least the pay was good enough that she could afford some extra girly time at the salon.

  There was a ding as the elevator doors opened, and a middle aged couple strode out, dressed in expensive looking suits.

  “Hello,” Darcie stood, smoothing her smart grey pinstripe skirt as she stepped around from behind her desk. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Cheshire, please, come right this way.” She smiled her thousand watt customer service smile, and led Mr. Stone’s acquaintances to the waiting area.

  They perched on a couch that was worth more than Darcie’s entire apartment, and she offered them beverages, oozing charisma like she’d been born into this life.

  ***

  “Oh my god, how do you get anything done all day?!” Kyla Grace squealed as she stared at her phone, and Darcie rolled her eyes. That new article on Ardon’s charity ball must have come out that day, and popped up on her best friend’s Twitter feed. “He’s so sexy.”

  “He’s also a massive asshole,” Darcie countered, and crossed her legs as she balanced on the bar stool. She was still in her work suit, having hopped in a cab to have dinner and drinks with her bestie.

  She knew they likely looked out of place together, as they always did. Kyla was a writer, and was not bound by societal norms of wearing proper clothing. She often ventured out in pyjama like clothing, like tonight’s mauve contraption. Her mop of blonde curls stuck out of some fabric wrapped around her head.

  But Darcie wouldn’t have traded this woman for anything in the world. She kept the secretary grounded. Sort of.

  “That makes him even sexier, Darce.” She waggled her eyebrows and took a sip of her beer, turning her phone around. It was a picture of Ardon, looking semi-casual in a white button down shirt and beige slacks. He was holding a three legged husky puppy and Darcie thought her ovaries might explode right out of her abdomen.

  “Ugh, I did not need to see that.” She clapped a hand over her eyes.

  “Right?” Kyla sang, setting her device down on the bar. “He’s hot as hell and he loves puppies. What more could a girl ask for?”

  “Manners?” Darcie pursed her lips, but this was an age old argument that wasn’t going to go away. Kyla was constantly bugging her about how how Ardon was, and how she needed to just loosen up and screw him already. Aside from the professional ramifications of that, Darcie couldn’t seem to get through to her what an insufferable asshole he was. She needed to deflect. “What about you? How did it go with that poet guy?”

  “James?” The blonde’s eyes went glassy as she reminisced about the previous evening. “He’s dreamy. So philosophical, you know?”

  They chatted about James, and then Kyla’s latest novel, a horror story about clowns that ate people’s souls.

  “Well, I’d better get home,” Darcie said as her phone alarm went off to signal eight o'clock.

  “Ugh, you’re so punctual,” Kyla teased, sticking her tongue out a little.

  “Us nine to fivers have to be,” the redhead smiled, and gave her bestie a hug. She caught a faint whiff of the familiar geranium essential oil that was always wafting off of the writer hippie, and it comforted her. “I’ll see you Sunday though, right?”

  “I would never miss a chance to embarrass the shit out of your baby brother, especially at his engagement party,” the blonde smiled wickedly, and Darcie rolled her eyes.

  The girls said good night, and parted ways. It was a beautiful night, warm but not humid, and Darcie decided to walk home. She’d had the foresight to bring flats with her to the pub just in case, and happily switched to them on the sidewalk.

  She strolled up main street, enjoying the lights of the various shops and restaurants lighting up the downtown core like a circus. She felt at home in the city, the never ending hustle and bustle of the ambitious.

  When she reached her building, she fumbled her keys while digging into her purse, and they clattered to the sidewalk. She bent over to retrieve them, and heard a car window open behind her.

  “Hey doll, why don’t you strut that perfect ass over here into my limo?” The voice sounded so familiar, and Darcie straightened up, whipping around to give this guy a piece of her mind.

  When her green eyes met the ocean blue of one Ardon Stone, her heart skipped a beat and all the blood drained from her face. He blinked in shock for about a millisecond before his lips curled into a smirk.

  “Miss Hale,” he said, her name dripping from his lips like silk sheets slipping off of a bed.

  She gaped at him, mouth opening and then closing again. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to deal with this situation. Heart pounding, she straightened her shoulders as best she could and tried to regain some semblance of composure.

  “What are you doing down here?” She blurted, and innately winced. That was not the most professional question.

  “Hunting for women, obviously,” he shot her a lopsided grin and her jaw dropped open once again. He wasn’t even attempting to be modest.

  “I see,” she squeaked, and cursed herself for the high pitch of her voice. “Well, I’m off to bed, I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Stone.” She injected as much calm as she possibly could into her words, really not sure what she was supposed to say. She didn’t want to make things awkward at work and jeopardize her job.

  “It’s so early,” he replied, and leaned his arm out the window. “But I suppose you have a lot of work to
do tomorrow, it being Friday and all. Scurry on into your building, Miss Hale.”

  “Th-thank you, Mr. Stone.” She wasn’t sure what she was thanking him for, and gave an awkward wave, jangling her keys in the process.

  “Don’t thank me, yet, Miss Hale.” His eyes raked her body. “I’m not going to try very hard not to check out your ass on your way inside.” He took in her flushed face, and she set her lips in a thin line.

  There was so much she wanted to say, so much she could have said. She could have berated him for objectifying her, especially as his employee. She could have snapped that he was a pig, and quit on the spot.

  But the only thing she could think was that her belly was so warm, hot, even, as he scrutinized her. He stared at her with hooded eyes, and images of those eyes more intimately involved with her flashed unbidden through her head.

  So instead of sticking up for herself, or giving him the finger, or dealing with the situation in an adult feminist way, Darcie followed his directions and scurried away into her apartment building.

  ***

  Darcie hung up the phone and updated Ardon’s schedule with the meeting one of his high profile clients had just requested. She would have asked him first, but he was two hours late and hadn’t called to let her know.

  She knew she worked for him, and was supposed to be at his beck and call, but if he wanted her to be able to do her job properly, he had to be available and compliant for her to do so.

  Although she couldn’t help but be a little relieved that she hadn’t had to face him yet. She’d barely slept the night before, after waking up from a steamy dream of ocean eyes and smooth lips. Mouth and tongue and hands in places she hadn’t known they should ever explore.

  Darcie let out a deep ragged breath. She didn’t need to be thinking about this right now. She had to focus on her work.

  Ding, the elevator opened, and out glides none other than Ardon Stone. His swagger was evident as he moved across the lobby of his penthouse office, sunglasses artfully on the tip of his nose.

  As if he’d let them slip like that, Darcie thought bitterly. He was the pinnacle of put together at all times, if Ardon Stone wanted to look nonchalant, he would have placed his sunglasses down there on purpose.

  When he surveyed her on his way by over the rims of what she recognized as Oakleys, she knew the purpose.

  The heat in that gaze was palpable, as if she could reach up and grab the fiery thread that shot straight to her core. It was equally unsettling and magnetic, and she licked her lips that were suddenly as dry as the Sahara.

  Asshole! She thought, stifling a grunt of frustration. He knew he had her now, knew the effect he had, and was using it to mess with her.

  Darcie made a decision in that very moment. She wouldn’t let him use this to his advantage. Two could play at this game.

  He strolled into his office without even a hello, and she picked up her tablet, swiping to open his itinerary. She shook herself lightly, trying to brush off the warm feelings that were boiling in her belly, and strutted into his office with her chin held high.

  “Good morning, Mr. Stone,” she said brightly as he sunk down into his desk chair. He removed his sunglasses and raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at her.

  She always waited at her post until he summoned her in to go over his itinerary. This bolder version of his mousy secretary seemed to intrigue him.

  Darcie moved around behind his desk, and set the tablet down right in front of him. She leaned over to zoom in on the screen with two delicate fingers and deliberately brushed her breasts against his shoulder. He drew in a breath almost inaudibly, but she caught it from the close contact.

  “I don’t remember approving a meeting with Mr. Gartshore,” Ardon said firmly, the voice of a stern CEO.

  “Oh, you didn’t approve it,” Darcie smiled sweetly down at him. “Since you decided not to grace me with your presence until two hours past your start time, and didn’t inform me about your change in schedule, I thought it was okay to make changes to your schedule without informing you.” She was so proud of how consistent and confident her voice sounded, but the sight of his smirk almost shattered her resolve. How was he so damned attractive?

  He was enjoying this. She’d meant to try to put him in his place, take him out of his comfort zone, but he seemed to be into her defiance.

  “You thought wrong, Miss Hale,” he replied, and swiveled his chair to face her. It was such an abrupt movement that his knees almost knocked her over, and she widened her stance a little to keep that from happening. At his lopsided grin, she realized that had been his intention and she snapped her knees together with a scowl.

  “Well, if you reschedule with Mr. Gartshore you won’t be able to nail him down for another three months,” she put her hands on her hips, tilting them slightly for what she hoped was a scolding effect. “And if you actually looked at the budget reports I give you, you’d know that you shouldn’t wait three months to schmooze with him.”

  “I look at everything you give me.” He narrowed his eyes, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth thoughtfully. “I don’t know if I like your tone this morning, Miss Hale.”

  “And I didn’t like your tone last night, Mr. Stone.” Darcie glared down her nose at him, trying to ignore the flutter in her belly.

  He was so intense in that moment, so unbelievably male. She couldn’t deny the attraction, and knowing that he was into her made it so much worse. Or so much better?

  “Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow. “Would you like to take the rest of the day off to think about that?”

  “Are you threatening my job?” She clenched her jaw.

  “No, Miss Hale.” He put up his hands and had the decency to look regretful of his word choice. “I wanted to make sure that my appreciation of your… lower half, didn’t make you feel threatened at your job.”

  “Lower half?” She rolled her eyes, and his grin returned.

  “I could have said ass.” He shrugged. “Whatever you would prefer.”

  I would prefer if this wasn’t turning me on so much, she thought, and pursed her lips.

  “I would prefer if we don’t speak of the ‘ass’ incident again,” she said firmly. “It was an honest mistake, one I’m willing to forgive for the sake of professionalism.”

  “Too bad I’m not willing to apologize,” he leaned back in his chair, making no effort to hide his appraisal of her. “So there’s nothing to forgive, Miss Hale. You may return to your desk now.”

  Darcie bit her lip, not sure how to proceed. A big part of her wanted to just say ‘yes, sir’, and scurry off to her desk like a good little secretary. The smaller part of her, the wilder part, wanted to push back, and see how far she could get.

  She leaned forward, planting her hands on each armrest of his leather chair.

  “You will, apologize, Mr. Stone,” she said firmly, the smaller part starting to bloom like a flower to the sunlight.

  Ardon chuckled, and while it irritated her to no end that she wasn’t intimidating him at all, she couldn’t deny the sexy way his eyes crinkled with the expression.

  “Is that so?” He lashed out and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her flush down into his lap.

  She gasped, her widened stance causing her to straddle him, skirt riding up to bunch at the tops of her thighs. She immediately reached down to push at the front of the fabric, trying to cover her modesty.

  When she realized that the rod pressing against her was Ardon Stone’s hard cock, she froze, mouth agape in surprise. He smirked, and stroked the soft skin of her leg with the hand that had circled her waist. He reached up with the other and ran it down her cheek, still smirking all the while.

  “I don’t apologize, Miss Hale,” he whispered, and he slid his digits around the back of her head through the hairs at the nape of her neck. The french twist she’d so artfully crafted that morning started to come undone.

  She tried to protest, but all that came out was a squeak, and he was lowe
ring her face to his, and his lips looked so soft, and she could smell sandalwood and leather and freshly cut grass and he was driving her wild and then…

  Then Darcie’s lips crashed into his, and she gave into the heat, her arms snaking around his neck like she never wanted to let go. As his tongue slid into her mouth, massaging her own, her eyes nearly rolled back into her head. He was skilled, and the motions of his tongue went straight to her clit, causing her core to clench.

  They devoured one another, all mouths and hands and grinding. The leather chair squawked at each forceful gyration of hips, and it spurred her on.

  She was in control. He turned her on. He clearly was turned on by her. They were consenting adults. There was nothing wrong with this.

  Except for the fact that he was her boss… but he didn’t seem to care much about that, so why should she?

  She grasped his tie in her hands and tugged at the knot, pulling it free of him. He grunted and nipped at her lower lip, grasping at her thigh tighter, pinching her skin. She squirmed in his lap, tossing the tie over her shoulder to start working at his buttons.

  He grabbed her wrists and held them in one strong hand, effectively immobilizing her as he continued his bruising kiss. But his free hand traveled lower, hooking under the thin fabric of her white lace panties. He grinned against her mouth at the wetness there, and a flush crept up her cheeks at his discovery.

  She knew she shouldn’t be ashamed, but she couldn’t help it. This was far beyond her normal sexual interactions that involved missionary in a bed, in the dark. Being found with wet panties straddling her boss in his office was definitely new to her, and the taboo of it made her even wetter.

  Ardon swallowed her moans as he circled her clit with this thumb, and her thighs started to vibrate against him. He was delighted with how sensitive she was, and sped up the pace as he started to probe at her pussy with his middle finger.

  Darcie’s moans turned to whimpers as he pressed against her, her tight little hole wanting him, needing him, so badly. When he found her soaking and slid inside easily, it was his turn to groan into her.