My New Personal Assistant

Chapter 13 - Suits and shirts

It took one call. In some ways, it's great how money can get you places.

I've sent the time and address to Thomas. Brandon was watching something downstairs, and I thought, what will be now? I still need to think about what I want to do with Natasha. I cared about her. I didn't feel like cheating on her, yet I knew I wanted to explore this thing with Thomas more. Still, the thought alone of becoming gay was intimidating as hell. There was no way I could do that. I couldn't care less what people would think. It was something within me that couldn't cope with this idea. I couldn't explain it, but it was stronger than me. I still refused to admit that. I love sex, and this was the first time I could let my primal urges show in sex. So, of course, it's appealing to me.

The rest of the day went uneventfully, and I woke up on Brandon's couch the next morning. I borrowed Brandon's shirt and got ready to meet Thomas.

Of course, he was early again. Waiting patiently at the entrance as I stepped out of my car. He looked at me with a stern look.

"I don't think this is necessary."

"What?"

"Are we going here?" he pointed to the shop behind him.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"You told me yourself. I destroyed your favorite suit. So I am going to buy you a new one."

"Suit from this place is a couple of thousand dollars, Matt."

"Yes."

"How did you even get an appointment so fast?"

"I am a good customer."

"Matt, I have enough money. I don't need you to buy me expensive suits and take me to Michelin-star restaurants."

"Maybe I just like seeing you treated well." I went past him, heading to the entrance when I felt his hand gently resting on my elbow. This light, sudden touch was enough to make my breath halt for a second.

"Matt, stop."

I looked at him.

"Look, I am flattered, but this is making me uncomfortable. I am not your mistress, Matt. You don't need to treat me with such luxury. I am your employee. Not to mention, this suit will take a year to make. We won't even know each other that long."

I remained calm.

"Noted." I looked at my watch. "Let's go. I don't want to be late."

We stepped in, and I greeted Mitchel. He was the owner and a delightful man. I explained that I had destroyed Thomas's favorite suit and decided to buy him a worthy replacement. Thomas introduced himself, and he was charming as ever. We went through the fabrics, and Mitchel with Thomas spoke about Thomas's idea. I had a single condition. I wanted it to be dark blue. Thomas smiled and agreed.

Sitting there and watching Mitchel and his assistants take Tomas's measurements was satisfying for some reason.

It took us quite some time to be done, and then Mitchel took out his diary to give us an appointment for the first fitting. He went too far, in my opinion, and I just had to stop him.

"Mitchel, I think we could make it sooner."

He looked at me in surprise. Thomas just stood there. I felt his eyes watching me. Mitchel politely explained that their waiting list is long and there's a certain time needed for the suit to be perfect. I agreed, yet I wouldn't back down. It took a while to reach a date suitable for us both, and even though he didn't tell me the exact sum, I was sure it would cost a lot. I didn't care. I needed this win. By the time we shook hands, Mitchel had the broadest smile I'd ever seen on him.

"Thomas, have you brought my laptop, by the way?"

"Of course, it's in my car."

Did he come here by car? Since when is his car fixed? Damn it! I wanted to drive him home.

I leaned closer to Mitchel and quietly asked him.

"I need to discuss some sensitive matters with my assistant. Could we use this room for some time, please?"

"Of course, Mr. Sanders."

They closed the door, and I turned to him.

"I still think this wasn't necessary. But, yet, thank you."

"I would buy this whole shop just to be able to rip these clothes off of you and fuck you here." he blinked at that, and the vein on his neck drew me closer.

"That wouldn't be a good investment."

"It would be worth it to me."

"I think you are now letting your dick make the decisions. That's not wise. Plus, I thought you dealt with that urge yesterday."

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you fuck someone yesterday?"

"Why do you care?" I was about one step away from him at this point.

"Why would you think I do?"

"You look like you do." I stopped about two inches from his nose. I heard his breathing fasten.

"Where are they so long?" he looked at the door.

"I told them to leave us. They will be gone for as long as we need." I watched the damn bulging vein on his neck.

"Then maybe you should call them."

"Do you really want me to?

"We had a deal, Matt." he looked earnestly into my eyes.

"Fuck you with your deal, Thomas. I want to kiss you so bad I think I will go crazy!"

"I don't need this, Matt." he hissed.

"What exactly?" I touched that vein, traveling with it along his neck.

"Stop it, Matt."

"No."

He grabbed my wrist and pulled it away. Yet he didn't let go of it and kept holding me like this. The point of contact between our hands was sending waves to my dick. And I could see he was feeling the same. He stood like this for too long. I grabbed his neck with my free hand and pulled him into my mouth. He replied immediately, sucking my breath out of my lungs as I attacked him. I felt his hand on the back of my head, he pulled strands of my hair to get me away, but I was not having that. He pulled harder and stepped back. I growled in need and frustration. Fucking prick!

"Stop it. I mean it." He put his forehead on mine, breathing heavily.

"Fuck you."

"Not this time Matt." He looked at me seriously. Again I could see that restraint in him.

"Calm down." He stepped back again, unhanding me.

I missed his touch.

"I don't think we can work together, Matt."

"It's not about being able to work together, and you know that."

"Would you even be able to concentrate on work if I were in the same room?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Don't lie to yourself."

He shook his head and got dressed.

"I will go now, Matt."

I watched him leave. Heard his thanks and goodbyes, and then the door closed. I was seriously pissed at that moment. So I went out and sorted everything needed, thanked everyone, and said my goodbyes, but I stormed out of there as fast as possible.

I was halfway on my way to Brandon's when Thomas called.

"I still have your laptop."

"Mister Perfect forgot something this important?"

"Where are you?"

"On my way."

"To where? I will bring it to you now."

"Your house."

"No."

"Yes."

"Matt, this is a bad idea. I am really riled up. Don't push me now!"

"Fuck, you just made me even harder!"

"Fuck you," his voice sounded coarse.

"We are not finished, Thomas! I am heading to your house."

"I need to go back to the office."

"You don't. I need that laptop, and you need me just as much as I need you."

I hung up and stepped on it.

I stepped out of my car and waited for him on doorstep. It took him maybe five more minutes to come. He parked and stared at me from behind the steering wheel. Finally, he stepped out, and he looked scary. He bashed into me and slammed me into his doorframe. I hissed and smiled. With his free hand, he unlocked the door and opened it, throwing me inside.

Damn right, this is not over!

"Whose shirt is that?" He slammed the door behind him.

"Why? Are you jealous?" I stood there proudly defying him.

He stopped his steps with a cold, hard look. He took off his jacket and unbuttoned his vest, hanging them on the hook behind him. Then he started to slowly roll his sleeves up. I just watched him as if in a trance.

"Who did you fuck?"

"How do you know I didn't let someone fuck me?"

He froze and pierced me with his eyes turning dark. So this is your trigger. I should be scared now. I knew it, yet my fucked up brain craved more! Somehow the pain and fear were like a drug for me, and with Thomas, it felt cathartic and safe. I needed this man!

"You are not going to tell me?"

"No. I will let it eat you alive."

"Was he there yesterday when I called?"

He hasn't specified if he was asking about the owner of this shirt or the guy I presumably fucked, so I haven't really lied when I said with a smirk that he indeed was. I made sure to emphasize the "he" part.

"Is that his shirt?"

He still hasn't specified. I had to grin at that. I think I will need to buy a new one for Brandon, as this shirt is probably doomed.

"Yes. You see, mine was ripped."

"Right." He pulled out his belt, which did give me goosebumps, and I started contemplating how much I wanted to anger this man. Still, there was no way I would back down.

"How did you know it's not my shirt?"

He wrapped the belt around his hand, watching me. I stood there defiantly with a smirk on my face. He put it on the small table near the entrance and started unbuttoning his shirt.

I watched his slowly exposing chest. I was pumped up and couldn't breathe for a good minute. He smirked.

I fucking love his body!

"I've seen all shirts you wore these weeks I worked for you. I could see the pattern, and you never wore anything like this."

"Maybe I bought it for this occasion."

"Whatever hotel you are staying in is not a cheap one. So if you bought one, it would've been according to your standards."

"That's true. You really paid good attention to me, Thomas. Why?" Only two buttons left... my cock was leaking and forcing itself out of my pants.

"You are an interesting person."

"That's not the reason, is it?" Last button. For fuck' sake, take that thing off!

"No. I wanted to fuck you since that weird meeting we had the first time."

I grinned and looked into his eyes. Got you!

"Take off that pants." his voice was chilling. Then I realized it. My briefs were Brandon's as well! Now, I didn't know if I was this turned on or scared, expecting the worst. He knew I was not freeballing and probably had that question on his mind since he saw my shirt. He does care. And he cares a lot!

He slowly removed his cufflinks. And placed them on the small table. Then slipped his shirt down his shoulders and pulled his arm from his sleeve in such an elegant and beautiful fashion I just watched him mesmerized. Fuck, that man is gorgeous. He watched with satisfaction me watching him. He finally took the shirt off. He had bruises all over his torso. Most healed already, but some of them remained here and there. He looked hot as hell itself.

He folded his shirt loosely on that table.

"I told you to take them off," he repeated, bringing me back to reality.

I was worried that this may cross the line just a bit too much. Yet there isn't much choice, given I want to have sex with him. Fuck... Thomas must have guessed already.

"You are shaking, Matt."

"Am I? Maybe I am just so thrilled to see you."

"You are not going to undress?"

Did he stay over there on purpose?

"You have his underwear on, do you?"

"Yes." I looked worried but defiant into his eyes. That vein on his neck was bulging.

"Right... I want to hear his name."

"Why?"

"I will be haunting you with that name the whole time I will fuck you, and you will cry under me. I will make you tell me everything you did to him and he did to you."

"Not gonna happen."

There isn't much to say anyway but damn sure I will not be telling him about Damien telling me that I nearly raped him.

"We will see about that, slut."

Fuck! Did he say slut? No!

I turned towards his bedroom in fright. Fuck!

"Do you remember your safe word?"

"Like hell you'd hear that from me, cunt!"

"Matt, I will stay here until you confirm that you know it and approve what will happen here."

I breathed heavily, turned on to absolute madness.

"Fucking Lady, you cunt."

With that, he smirked in the most devious way I'd ever seen, and I was now fully aware that I was shaking badly.

"Good. Are you going to go alone, or do I need to drag you there?"

It would be wiser to go alone. I knew that well, but I was not wise. I was horny and hungry for that pain.

"I think we both know what we both want."

He smiled wider. Taking that belt and throwing it on the ground somewhere behind me. I looked at it without a clue what that was about. Not like I had any time to think about it now.

"Fuck!"