Taken By The Billionaire(3)
And here was Kylie Clark, spitting fire at the mention of her sister’s name. I’d known her for only a few seconds, but already she intrigued me. I saw something on a higher level than just thinking with my cock; I sensed there was something special about this girl. My erstwhile lover, Stella the Welsh actress sprung to mind. Plus Kylie despised Jenny Clark, a huge bonus point in her favor and so I decided to hear about why she was there in my office.
“Sounds like Jenny,” I replied after Kylie’s revelation about her sister’s duplicity. I leaned back in my chair, with the desk between me and the girl. I spread my arms, saying, “But that doesn’t explain how you got into my office or tell me what you want.”
Kylie fixed me with a stare, a look of such smoldering intensity now that I found myself thinking: I bet she’s incredible in bed.
“I want a job,” Kylie replied, bringing my carnal mind back to Earth with a jolt.
I leaned forward and placed my elbows on my desk.
Fuck it, if I could help the girl I would.
“Do you have a resume?” I asked. Then, clicking my fingers and smiling like I’d just had a brainwave of Einstein proportions I said that I was just about to fire my assistant for letting her get into the office in the first place. “There’s Alexandra’s job if you want it?” I finished.
Kylie smiled weakly at my attempt at humor. I hadn’t been serious about firing Alexandra, not totally anyway, but I would be talking to her later that day. Rest assured, there was no way she would be getting away with it.
Kylie brushed the comment aside and showed what I would come to recognize as her core of steel, single-minded determination. “No,” she said, her tone insistent. “What I mean is I want the lead in your new film.”
Astounded by the ridiculousness of that request I nevertheless kept a poker face and quashed my immediate response of: You’re taking the fucking piss? Instead I replied with, “So you’re an actress?”
Diffident, Kylie’s head dipped as she studied her shoes. “No,” she responded in a small voice. “At least not yet; I don’t have any experience.”
“Do you know how big the budget is on my next project?” I asked gently.
Kylie shook her head.
“Without mentioning numbers,” I continued, “I’ll tell you. It’s huge, probably enough to buy a medium-sized country.” I paused to let that sink in. “It’d be too big a risk,” I added. “As much as I admire your ambition, Kylie, there’s just no way that I can give you that role.”
The contrite manner of a couple of seconds ago vanished in an instant. “What I want, Mister Taylor is a chance to show everyone, especially that bitch and my precious ex-fiancé, that I’m as good as …” She paused and shook her head, knuckles whitening as she clenched her fists “… No,” she continued. “I don’t want to be as good, I want to prove I’m better than she is. And I want to make Rafe sorry he ever cheated on me.”
She went all mental then. Ranting and raving and waving her arms, calling her sister names of the most uncomplimentary nature.
“Mister Taylor,” she hissed, eyes flashing as she finally cooled a little and, passion spent for the moment, slumped back in her chair. “I might not have the experience, but I’m determined.” Kylie’s chest heaved with emotion, the twin swellings of her breasts drawing my eyes. “Please, Mister Taylor, I’ll do anything for that role. I’m begging you. I’m desperate to get back at Jenny. I know you can’t stand her, that’s why I came to you. You know what she’s like. I thought you’d understand better than anyone else in the business. I know you’re supposed to be a tough cookie and that you work your people hard. I’ve heard about your reputation, that you’re all macho and difficult to please. But I’ve also heard you’re totally professional, firm but fair.
“Please give me that role, Mister Taylor. I won’t let you down. I promise. Anything you say, just name it, I’ll do it.”
“You’d bring me coffee whenever I called for it?” I joked, grinning after her complimentary speech.
The girl’s personality shone through when, without missing a beat, she gave a wry grin of her own. “Anytime. Day or night, Mister Taylor.”
“Even at two in the morning? To my house?”
Then, to my surprise, my body responded to the thought of Kylie actually bringing me a coffee in the middle of the night. I could see her, hair all tousled from my bed, her lips swollen from my kisses, swamped by my bathrobe as she handed me the cup and then let the robe slide off her shoulders. I felt my heartbeat quicken in my chest while, as my cock stiffened, I stared into the girl’s face. My tongue felt huge in my mouth as I said in a voice thick with desire, “Would you bring my coffee right to my bed, Kylie?”