The Billionaire's Beck and Call: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, #1

The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Book One

(The Billionaire’s Beck and Call Series)

By Delilah Fawkes

Table of Contents:

Chapter 1: At His Service

Chapter 2: At His Mercy

Chapter 3: At His Command

Chapter 4: At His Insistence

Chapter 5: At His Instruction

Chapter 6: At His Word

Chapter 7: At His Desire

Chapter 8: At His Warning

Chapter 9: At His Side

A FREE Sneak Peak of BOUND TO HIM

About the Author

Chapter 1: At His Service

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I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose and sighed as I stared at the papers I’d dropped. This was shaping up to be the worst day ever, and it was only my second day on the job. First, I’d lost a contact and had to break out my clunky emergency glasses, then the CEO’s assistant called in sick before the biggest stockholder meeting of the year. 

Of course, they’d called me in to assist, even though she was only the front desk receptionist. 

If all Mr. Drake wants me to do is answer phones, I’ve got this in the bag. I rolled my eyes, knowing it couldn’t possibly be that easy. 

I hadn’t met Chase Drake yet, billionaire CEO of Drake & Smith, but I’d heard whispered rumors about him over lunch. Words like terrifying and gorgeous were thrown around, along with talk of all the other executive assistants that quit unexpectedly that year. Apparently, he was impossible to please. 

I dropped to my knees, hurriedly gathering the papers outside of the executive offices. This is no way to make a first impression, Isabeau! Get it together or you won’t last the week. The last thing I needed was for the head honcho to see me like this. 

A black, Italian leather shoe came down an inch from my hand. I froze, still reaching for the spreadsheet now trapped under the large foot in front of me. It was attached to a leg clad in an impeccably cut suit, and as I ran my eyes upward, I tried not to tremble. A man with wavy blonde hair and a cool green gaze stared down at me, his cruel mouth twisted into a smirk. 

Ms. Willcox, I presume? 

I tried to push the chestnut strands of hair that had fallen over my eyes back into my bun, but it was no good. I was a hot mess, kneeling on the carpet in a J.C. Penney blouse and skirt. 

Y-yes? 

He reached down and offered his hand, and my mouth suddenly went very, very dry. I’m talking Sahara Desert dry. Something about the way he looked at me sent shivers down my spine, like he was sizing me up. Like I was a deer, and he was a lion, looking for his next meal. 

I put my hand in his, and let him pull me to my feet. My hand felt tiny in his warm grasp, and I felt a jolt of electricity at the touch. 

Chase Drake, he said softly, his low voice making my heart skip a beat. So, you’re the one serving me today? 

Serving him? It felt like an odd way to put it, but hey, who was I to correct the boss? 

I guess so, Sir. 

You guess? 

I realized my hand was still in his, and quickly drew it back. Ms. Johnson told me you needed an assistant for the meeting? 

I bit my lip, suddenly uncertain. His piercing eyes were hard to look directly into. I felt like I was being tested, or maybe that I was in the wrong place altogether. 

Keep your chin up, girl. My assistant must be cool, confident and collected, not a timid little mouse. 

My mouth dropped open. A mouse? He doesn’t even know me! I raised my chin defiantly, straightening up to my full height. 

Yes, Sir. 

His lips twitched into a half smile. Very good. 

I nodded, and started walking toward the boardroom, when he grabbed my wrist, making me gasp. He drew me close until we were almost nose to nose. 

"Remember that you represent me in there. Clean yourself up before we begin. And Ms. Willcox?" 

Y-yes? 

Don’t let me down. 

I tried hard not to tremble, even though he’d pulled me so close. He smelled clean like rainwater, but his hot breath on my face made me avert my eyes. Is this how he always acted? So demanding and confrontational? 

Will do, Boss. 

I snatched my wrist away and moved quickly down the hall to the ladies room. I could feel his gaze on my back until the door closed behind me. When it clicked shut, I leaned back against it, and let out a deep breath. 

What an asshole. 

I was beginning to wonder if the executive assistant was really sick, or if she was just sick of his domineering bullshit. But, despite my irritation, my wrist tingled where he’d held me, and I couldn’t stop thinking about those eyes of his, that strong jaw... and how I wanted to run my hands through that gorgeous wavy hair of his. 

Get over it, Isa. Never gonna happen, I muttered to myself. 

Whoa. Where did that come from?

I mean, sure, he was amazing looking, and from the moment his eyes met mine, I felt a magnetism radiating off him, drawing me to him, but that didn’t mean I was interested. Far from it, after the way he’d just spoken to me. 

I ran my hands under the sink and slicked my hair back, redoing my bun as best I could at the nape of my neck. My hair was always unruly and wild. I just hoped it would stay put for the next hour. I retouched my light makeup, and looked at myself in the mirror. 

It would have to do. 

I took a deep breath, and readied myself to face Mr. Drake. 

***

The meeting went off without a hitch. I sat next to the CEO running his slides as he presented to the table full of crusty old men. Standing before them, speaking so smoothly and confidently, the juxtaposition of his youth and power against the rest of them was not lost on me. He moved with the kind of grace and power you’d expect of royalty, commanding the attention and respect of everyone in the room. 

At the end, as the board members filed out into the hallway, he came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. I flinched beneath his touch. 

Meet me in my office in half an hour. 

I pursed my lips, a spike of fear coursing through me. Had I done something wrong? Was I getting fired? It would officially be the shortest temp job ever. What would my friends say when they heard I’d gotten canned on my second day? 

Yes, Sir, I squeaked. 

He swept out of the room, and I heard him laughing and joking with the other men as they moved down the hall. I put my head down and packed up his notes and laptop, trying to get my shit together as I worked. 

Calm down, Isa. What will be, will be. 

I pictured those cool eyes staring at me as he mouthed the words We’re letting you go, and felt a shiver creep down my spine. For some reason, the look of disappointment I pictured on his handsome face was the worst part. 

***

I rapped on the mahogany door at the end of the executive wing, and tried to steady my breathing. 

Come in. 

Here goes nothing, I whispered, and entered the office, trying to hold my chin high. 

Mr. Drake looked up at me, his green eyes intense, but the emotion behind them unreadable. Was he angry with me? Had I embarrassed him somehow? I was so inexperienced, I was positive it wasn’t good. 

Ms. Willcox, come here. 

I smoothed my hands over my skirt and took a few steps toward the chairs in front of his desk. 

Did I say you could sit there? Come here. To me. 

I paused, shifting uncomfortably on my feet. 

"Are you deaf? I said come here." 

His sharp tone sent a shiver down my spine. I set my jaw and walked around the desk until I was just inches away from him. He spun in his chair toward me slowly and leaned back, a smirk playing over his handsome face. For a long moment, he just looked me over, appraising me, then staring into my eyes to see if I would look away, I suppose. 

I didn’t. 

Take a seat here. On the desk. 

His voice was a low whisper, his eyes intense. 

I hesitated the briefest of moments, but then a little voice inside my head said He’s messing with you. He wants to see if you’re afraid. I glared back at him. I needed to show him he didn’t intimidate me, no matter how rich and powerful he was. 

I hopped up on the edge of his desk, and crossed my bare legs demurely. His eyes roamed over my exposed skin, stopping at my hem line, before moving up my body to my breasts, straining beneath my blouse. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but I felt so vulnerable this close to him, especially when he looked at me like that. 

What do you know about me, Isabeau? 

He leaned forward, and I forced myself to stay still instead of shying away. He was so close that I could smell the subtle notes of his cologne: musk and wood with a hint of leather. 

My apologies...  May I call you Isabeau? He smiled up at me, dazzling me for a moment. 

Of course. My voice sounded high and breathy. I gripped the edge of his desk, trying not to fidget. 

Good. What have you heard about me, Isabeau? What do you really know about me? 

What did he want me to say? That everyone said he was an ogre? Or that they all wanted to sleep with him anyway? 

I... 

Go on. You won’t hurt my feelings. 

He was still smiling, slight dimples visible in both cheeks. The sight was distracting, to say the least. 

I know that you’re the youngest CEO and partner in the company’s history, and I know that you earned the spot by working your way up after graduate school instead of using your inheritance as a crutch. 

"Everyone knows that. What do you know about me? The real stuff. None of this press release bullshit." 

I looked down at my hands, anything not to have to look up at his face so close to me. 

Um. People say... they say that you’re scary. And that your assistants don’t last long. 

He laughed, a deep, warm sound that seemed to fill up the office. I glanced up to see him smirking at me. I relaxed my grip on the desk a little. Maybe I wasn’t being fired after all. 

What else do they say? 

Oh, God. He can’t possibly want me to tell him everything. Does he? The look on his face confirmed that he did. It was clear by the way he looked at me that I wasn’t leaving this office until I gave him exactly what he wanted. 

They say. Um... They say that you’re very, uh, good looking... and impossible to please. 

Oh they do, do they? He sat back, and tented his fingers beneath his chin. Well, do you agree with them? Do you think I’m scary, handsome and woefully unsatisfied? 

My mouth dropped open, and I quickly closed it with a snap. 

"Yes. I mean, no! I mean, I don’t know..." 

He stood, then, and leaned in close, towering over me. You were right the first time. 

Anxiety coursed through me, but I have to admit, being this close to him, smelling his scent and feeling the heat radiating off his body, it made me wonder what it would be like to be in his arms. To be his. To be owned by him... 

His face was almost touching mine when he whispered to me. "I am unsatisfied, Isabeau. I want you to be my new assistant. Will you do that for me? Will you be at my beck and call?" 

My breath left me as his words sunk in. When I finally regained it, I felt like I was trembling from head to toe. His beck and call.

Wh-what about your old assistant? 

Mr. Drake leaned back again and took my chin in his hand, forcing my eyes to his. "What about her? I want you." 

His touch on my skin was electric.  Are we still talking about business?

Yes, Mr. Drake. 

His thumb stroked my cheek for the briefest of moments, and then he released me, breathless, and wondering what I’d just agreed to. 

Very good, Isabeau. I’ll expect you here at 8 a.m. tomorrow, in my office, ready to work. Don’t be late. 

He turned away, effectively dismissing me. I hopped down off the desk and quickly made for the door. I didn’t want to give him time to change his mind. 

And Isabeau? 

I turned back, my hand on the knob. Yes, Mr. Drake? 

I don’t tolerate sloppy work. Disappoint me, and there will be consequences. 

I blushed, and nodded, then closed the door behind me. 

What had I gotten myself into? 

***

Isabeau! Get in here, now! 

I jumped in my seat in front of the big, mahogany doors, spilling my cup of ramen noodles onto my blouse. 

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit." If there was one thing Mr. Drake hated, it was sloppiness, and here I was dripping with cheap soup stock. My silk was stained, the material sticking to the tops of my breasts. 

By now, I meant immediately, Isabeau! Not at your personal convenience. 

I swore again under my breath, and entered his office. Maybe a miracle would occur, and he wouldn’t notice. Please, God, have mercy! 

Sit, he commanded. 

I moved toward the chairs once again, but he stared at me, frowning, until I circled the desk and perched on the edge. 

Yes, Mr. Drake? 

What took you so long? I need you to type these notes up for me, and... 

He stopped, sniffing the air. He leaned in, and to my horror, plucked a long, wavy noodle out of my cleavage. I bit my lip, tears of embarrassment burning behind my eyes. 

I had to keep it together. It probably wasn’t the end of the world, even though it felt like it, sitting here in front of my boss, who could have been a GQ model, shaking with nerves, and dripping with soup. 

Oh, my dear, he said, placing it into his trashcan like it was a dead spider. "This is not good at all. I don’t like this. One. Little. Bit." 

He was out of his chair in a flash, and before I could stop him, his hands were on my blouse, undoing my buttons with speed and precision. 

Mr. Drake! 

He ripped the last button off, and I winced as the silk tore.  My shirt fell open, revealing my bra, and he yanked it down off my shoulders and threw it to the floor. 

I thought I made it clear that I do not tolerate sloppiness? 

His voice was deep and dripping with menace. I tried to cover myself, but he slapped my hands away and ran his eyes over my exposed curves without a hint of embarrassment. 

"You represent me, Isabeau. Me! And I do not present myself in such a disgusting manner. Not to my colleagues. Not to anyone." 

He leaned forward, caging me in with a hand on each side of my body. His face was just an inch from mine, his clean breath tickling my lips. What was he going to do to me? 

I... I’m sorry, I breathed. 

Sorry’s not going to cut it, girl. You seem to have a problem remembering what my rules are. You’ve been lax. Lazy. Disheveled. I think it’s high time you were punished. 

He toyed with one of my bra straps, then slid it slowly down one shoulder. I tensed, wondering how far he would go. Fear coursed through me, but at the same time, my heart raced, my sex heating against the surface of the desk. I had to admit it, even if it was just to myself... 

I wanted him. 

There was something mesmerizing about him. Something forceful and dangerous. Something I couldn’t resist, even if I wanted to. And I wasn’t sure that I did. 

You need to remember who you belong to. His voice was a low growl now as he traced the top of my breasts with a long finger. 

Was this really happening? I suppressed a moan, suppressed the desire to reach up and run my hands through his hair, to pull his mouth down to mine. 

You need a punishment you won’t soon forget. 

He backed away, and I felt his absence like a tangible thing. 

Turn around and place your hands flat on the desk. 

I gasped, looking at him in disbelief. Had I heard him right? Part of me wondered if he was going to raise my skirt, jerk my panties down around my ankles, and fuck me right then and there. And if he did, would I let him? Would I stay bent over while my billionaire boss used me for his pleasure? 

My pussy heated at the thought. A man like him wanting me was almost too much to handle. 

I did as I was told and placed my palms flat on the desk, leaning over as I did so. I waited for him to grip my zipper; to rip my skirt off my