Learning to Trust: New Life Read online

  My desk chair was very comfortable, a high-back leather one that probably cost a fortune. In fact, it was one of most comfortable chairs I had ever sat on in my life. I sat there for a while, just thinking, waiting for somebody to show up and tell me what the hell I was supposed to do. There were no missed calls or texts on my cell phone. Had Roland forgotten my first day already?

  About fifteen minutes after I arrived, I heard a knock on my door. I quickly turned, realizing that I couldn't even pretend that I was working because there was nothing to do. My light was still off too. It was Frederic.

  "Ahh, Marisa," he said, his accent so sweet and smooth. He approached me and leaned down to kiss my hand.

  "Hi, Frederic," I said. "Where is Roland?"

  "He's a little unreliable sometimes, I hate to say," Frederic said. He frowned.

  I felt a slight tinge of sadness. Had he really just forgotten about my first day? "He didn't forget, did he?"

  "No, no. But other obligations required his attention."

  "Oh, okay," I said. "What am I supposed to do here?"

  "Marisa, have you ever been a manager?" He eyed my collar. "Roland will be happy that you're wearing—"

  "No," I confessed, abruptly answering his question and preventing him from saying anything further about my excessively lavish piece of jewelry. It was entirely unlike me to wear such a thing, especially in a public place.

  "It doesn't matter. When you're here, you just need to verify that everything is done at the end of the day. Check the shipping manifests and make sure all of the numbers are correct, okay?"

  I didn't know what he meant at that point, but still I nodded yes. "Okay."

  "I'll show you around the office then."

  Frederic introduced me to everyone there. The gender line was drawn seemingly right down the middle. There were maybe ten people total, five men and five women, six when I was in the building. I guess it was even again when Frederic was there.

  He showed me where everything was, giving me a list of responsibilities to complete each day. ”As long as all of this gets done," he said, "business goes on as usual. We ship all around the world, Marisa—and you'll help to make sure that happens every day."

  Once again, I was intimidated. Still, I did my best to stay confident and composed. "All right, Frederic," I said. "Will you check up on me during my first days here?"

  "Of course, my dear," he said. "I wouldn't leave you totally alone with this sort of responsibility until you were ready."

  "Who worked here before me?" I asked, curiosity getting the best of me. "Has Roland brought girls here before or something?"

  Frederic looked like I had caught him off guard, his fingers fiddling with his perfectly styled light brown hair. "The last manager was a man, but there have been women before."

  "Why did the last guy leave then?" I asked.

  "I can't tell you much, but he just didn't see eye-to-eye with Roland. That happens sometimes. It was dealt with accordingly."

  God, as suave as Frederic was, he was kind of like Roland as well. He was methodical, carrying out conversations like he had spent all night impeccably planning them. Maybe that's why he was so close to Roland. Dealt with accordingly, huh? That sounded pretty serious to me.

  "Oh," I said, shrugging my shoulders. Once again, I wasn't going to assume. Roland had captured my trust, so why would I think that firing an employee was a big deal? He was a businessperson, someone that dealt in billions, when the most I ever knew prior to meeting him was tens of thousands.

  They were apparently shipping barrels of chemicals, some of them to automotive plants and others to farms and food production centers. I was just verifying that the number of barrels was the same and whatnot, and initialing a sheet. I would check pallets once a week, spot-checking to ensure that the number of barrels on the manifest list matched the physical number.

  Honestly, the whole thing seemed somewhat remedial, really. Someone—well, the owner had—decreed my superiority over everyone else in the office, even though they knew what was going on ten times more than I did. Responsibility and accountability still seemed appealing after my several months of relaxing. We would just have to see what happened.

  I'll confess, I really liked Frederic, maybe to the point of having a little crush on him. He treated me really well just as Roland did. I appreciated that he stuck with me that whole first day, ensuring that I understood each step of the process.

  "You're just the manager though," he said. "You're verifying that everything actually got done. It still gets done even if you don't do your job. But without your job, we might have bigger problems later."

  "Yes, I get it," I said to him with growing exhaustion. He had reiterated the same few concepts over and over again the whole day. By that point, I did actually get it.

  "You don't want to take me seriously?" he said, instantly becoming stone-faced and unwaveringly humorless. I coughed quietly, my throat feeling much drier than it had the moment before.

  "Frederic, I was just kidding," I said. "Relax."

  "It's not a joking matter," he continued, his eyes still just as burning as before. I felt really uncomfortable and wished that I could just disappear.

  "Frederic, I—"

  A huge smile broke out across his face. "I got you! You were really freaking out!"

  "Shut up!" I said. I playfully punched his shoulder as I blushed.

  "Wow, you're tough," he said. "That must be why Roland likes you."

  "Oh, Frederic," I said. He leaned forward and kissed my flushed red cheek and I returned the favor by messing up the collar of his dress shirt. My gesture was immediately corrected.

  My chemistry with Frederic was sort of bizarre, but at the very least, I just couldn't deny it. Maybe it was forced, something that was encouraged by Roland. Perhaps he wanted me to have a good working relationship with Frederic and that this would be a good way to accomplish that.

  "I won't be here every day," he said to me as he left. "But you did fine. Everything will be under control."

  I felt emboldened by his words, even though my position required very little real ability in my opinion. We said our goodbyes and right at three o'clock on the dot, there was a car waiting for me. I left before the rest of the employees, even though they had arrived earlier than me. I was Roland's privileged pet, after all, even if it did make me feel a little ashamed when I openly took advantage of it.

  I swung open the door of the limo and climbed in, surprised that Roland was in there waiting for me. "Oh, Roland," I said, startled at first.

  "My dear pet, how was your first day?" His dress shirt was unbuttoned, showing the very top of his chest hair. He hugged me tightly, sending his musky smell into my nostrils. It was always pleasant to take it in after being without him for a while.

  "It was fine," I said. "What did Frederic say about me?"

  "He said you were just exquisite in the role, a real team player."

  "Shut up," I said. "You're such a liar."

  "Do you want to see the text he sent me?"

  "Show me," I said.

  Roland pressed a few buttons and then handed me his fancy, gigantic cell phone. I looked at the screen.

  She's doing great. A good new member of the team, I can tell already.

  "Roland!" I whined. "It doesn't say what you said at all." I accidentally pressed a button that brought up a previous text from a name I didn't catch.

  He's been dealt with. Where do we hide it?

  Roland's hand was already fast approaching mine, and somehow, in a gesture of sheer luck, I hit the home button and the mysterious text left the screen. I fought it, but I realized I failed and that my face immediately reflected my utter confusion and mild distrust.

  "Aw, what's the matter, pet?" Roland asked.

  I readjusted my dress shirt, pulling it down nervously. "No, no, I'm fine," I said, praying that he wouldn't dig any deeper. "It was just a long day compared to what I'm used to, that's all." Great going, Marisa.


  "I think I know what would make you feel better," he said, immediately scooting closer to me on the leather seat. His hands crept across my clothed flesh, his warmth almost as if there was no cloth barrier at all between us.

  Goddamnit. I wanted time to think about my discovery, but my body was already giving into him, fully submitting. I could feel my nipples hardening, the wetness between my thighs that always started as a drop and became a flood. My arousal was clouding my mind, preventing me from any serious examination of those words.

  He's been dealt with. Where do we hide it? Was it about a body? A chemical or something? A missing contract or a car? Everything kept getting spookier, yet here I was about to have sex with the guy that arranged it all.

  "Oh, Roland," I protested, my words both suggesting that we stop immediately and proceed at the fastest rate possible. He eased a finger down my skirt until it parted my moist folds, my body curling against him like a cuddling cat.

  "I missed you today, my pet," he said, his lips planting tiny kisses on the nape of my neck. I shivered and gripped his arm tightly. His fingers moved quicker now, his thumb lightly pressing against my clit.

  "I missed you too, Roland," I admitted. We had taken yet another dark turn—I knew my theories were still entirely unfounded and possibly wrong on my part—yet I was giving into his charms as usual. Business as usual in more ways than one. I was aching so badly, not just for touch, but for him to be inside of me, to take me like only he could.

  The ride seemed to be taking longer than usual, but I didn't really mind. Roland, unable to resist anymore, pulled down my skirt, taking my panties with it in one perfectly orchestrated gesture that left both items of clothing bunched around my ankles. He was quick and precise when he wanted something. I could already see the hardness pulsing between his legs, his intent explicit, almost more so than his always-intense facial expression.

  He took my clit between his lips, stroking it with his tongue, nibbling on it with an almost tender malice. I purred for him, totally overtaken by my body's need. I closed my eyes and dug my hands into the couch. He knew exactly how to touch me, exactly how to bring me what I needed.

  I felt his weight shift and then he penetrated me, overtaking me with his element of surprise. I hadn't even felt him pull down his pants, yet here he was, already ready to go. "Oh god," I moaned, a fully willing victim of his carnal urges. My walls hugged him tightly, the muscles stretching until they were perfectly sized for him. He was pumping already with such intensity, such fury—and we had only just started.

  I writhed against that seat, twisting in sweet torture as he gave me everything he had. It was as if he was purging himself of something, removing some weight that had burdened him. I was burning, buzzing, my blood literally boiling as the car infrequently turned and shifted our weights about. We were still half dressed, my hands pulling at the now-wrinkled material of his shirt. Our juices dripped freely down my legs and onto the seat.

  My eyes opened momentarily, long enough to catch a glimpse of his face. His expression was of a man that was totally lost in his actions, merely doing the bidding of his body. He produced low, guttural sounds as he pumped into me with an animalistic aggression that I don't think I'd ever felt before. And as much as I wanted to analyze his behavior, I felt an orgasm right over the horizon, so close I could taste it.

  Roland's hands shot straight to my ass and clenched that flesh, pushing his cock into depths of me that weren't accessible without some extra effort. I cried out loudly, his stiffness slamming into my womb. Then I was right there, the climax coming over me like a storm.

  "Roland!" I screamed, the world suddenly becoming blurry. I moaned until I couldn't anymore, gripped until my hands were tired. He followed the delicate instructions of my body and then began coming himself, unable to hold his release back any longer. As always, his pleasure would excite me even more.

  I cherished every contraction of his cock, every flutter of our muscles together as he released spurt after spurt into me. I rocked back and forth, accepting all that he would give me until we both were spent, the very sexy portion of our car ride slowly coming to an end. He clutched me in his arms and kissed me, my taste still on his lips.

  "There, is that better, pet?" he asked.

  "Yes," I said. I had almost entirely forgotten about my discovery on the cell phone in the midst of our encounter in order to relax enough. Maybe that's exactly what he wanted...or maybe I was just paranoid. I had learned to trust this man, learned to open up fully to him. Surely there was some sort of explanation for what I had read.

  We righted our clothes and then chatted about small things until we arrived back at his mansion, the extended trip apparently just to enable our shenanigans. There were two cars in the driveway—one belonged to a domestic worker and the other I had seen driven by one of Roland's business associates. He seemed to look startled upon noticing the car.

  "Hmm, Martin must have forgotten something," he remarked to himself. Martin, huh? I didn't know a Martin. Perhaps I'd seen him coming and going, but I simply didn't remember him. Was his visit an indicator of good news or bad news? I guess I'd just have to wait and see.

  We stepped out of the limo and Roland nodded at the driver. He briskly approached the front door and stepped inside, keeping as far ahead of me as possible.

  "Roland, we've got a problem! They found out!" I heard from inside. Martin had an accent—but it wasn't like Frederic's. It was distinctive, however. I would definitely remember it.

  "I told you to never come to my house!" Roland snarled. I stepped into the doorway a few moments after he did. I wasn't sure if he realized I'd heard Martin. "Step with me into my office," Roland said, looking back to see if I'd come inside yet. "Pet, just a minor business hiccup. I'll see you shortly." The men disappeared into the office down the hall and the door slammed shut before I could even see this Martin.

  Oh god, I wanted to sneak up, to play detective and listen through the door. Would I be able to hear anything? Also though, this seemed pretty serious—and not worth getting involved in. Plus, the domestic worker would have seen me if I was standing at the door listening. Were they in on this too? I stood there for a moment, frozen, unable to make a decision. I could hear muffled shouts from the room, but nothing coherent

  The door swung open again and Roland's head popped out. "What are you waiting for, Marisa? Someone to carry you upstairs? Do I need to install an elevator?" His tone was snide and biting, so much that it literally hurt to hear. He apparently was going to stand there until I left the room.

  "Sorry," I said, worried that I'd start crying. Who was this man that was talking to me like this? I had worked so hard to earn this man's respect and now he was chewing me apart.

  Everything had suddenly gone from the Bachelor to Law & Order just like that. I felt like I was being implicated in a crime or something, even though I still knew nothing. I charged upstairs, ashamed, and collapsed on my bed. Not knowing made things even harder.

  I was a reporter before, right? No, I was still a reporter. I was just on hiatus. I needed to know, needed to try and assemble the pieces of this puzzle. I had to start tonight, to ask Roland for the truth when I could. Maybe he had kept something from me.

  One way or another, I had to find out—and tonight I would begin my search.

  TO BE CONTINUED...

  ###

  The next part of Learning to Trust (Interviewing the Billionaire) is available now! Thanks for reading!

  A Word from the Author:

  If you’re here reading this, I just wanted to take a moment to thank you so much for purchasing and reading my work. Leave a review if you feel so inclined; it will help others discover whether or not my stories are for them and help me to learn and grow as an author. These stories are enjoyable for me to write, and if you get something out of them—no matter how large or small that something may be—I’ve done my job. See, erotica is definitely a creative art, and sometimes that creative spark is lost in routine
, boring creations. I set out to make erotica that people could feel in a variety of ways, and I’m always glad to learn that people are truly experiencing/sharing my vision. If you have any requests or comments, don’t hesitate to email me at the address on the contact page.

  Once again, thank you for supporting me, and a special thanks for supporting independent writers and publishers in general.

  -B.B. Roman

  About B.B. Roman:

  B.B. Roman is devoted to sexuality that is felt with both mind and body, writing to appeal to the full sexual imagination—both inside and outside of the traditional realm and limits of erotica. There's no holding back in Roman's worlds; the stories are allowed to flourish in any way they so choose. It's an always-changing world of emotional highs and lows, pleasure and pain, certainty and uncertainty.

  Roman writes from a remote cabin, allowing that feeling of seclusion to feed into the stories. When not writing, Roman enjoys composing music for films and attempting to make the best cup of coffee possible at home, using a variety of contraptions and methods—and very dark, chocolatey beans. Oh, and also chasing around two very curious Weimaraners that never seem to tire out!

  Discover other titles by B.B. Roman at Amazon.com:

  Erotic Romance:

  Learning to Trust (Interviewing the Billionaire)

  Learning to Trust (Interviewing the Billionaire) Part 2: Full Submission

  Learning to Trust (Interviewing the Billionaire) Part 3: The Offer

  Learning to Trust (Interviewing the Billionaire) Part 4: New Life

  Learning to Trust (Interviewing the Billionaire) Part 5: Sweet Temptation

  Learning to Trust (Interviewing the Billionaire) Part 6: Paradigm Shift