Lyra Parish - Weak for Him

But as I rode up the golden elevator, I could feel the ache between my legs.

What. The. Living. Fuck?

How could someone so rude, condescending, and assholish have this effect on me? Was assholish even a word? He even clouded my mind to the point of making up stupid words.

I sat on the edge of the bed and thought it over for an hour. Then I undressed down to nakedness and studied myself in the mirror. I could admit that I was a sweet lay, but really? Could I sell my virginity?

Before I turned out the light, I texted Mr. Finnley Felton one word.

Yes.

There was no response.

The next day, bangs on my door woke me from a restless sleep. I grabbed the robe and wrapped it around my body. Seriously, sleeping nude was my new favorite thing.

More knocks pounded on the door .

God, what time was it?

The sun hadn't risen, so 6:00 a.m.? Maybe 7:00 a.m.?

Through the peephole, I saw Charlie, Mr. Felton's driver, standing with a garment bag in his hands. Before he could knock again, I swung open the door. His fist was suspended in the air.

"Good morning, Charlie." I smiled, and he did, as well.

"What can I do for you on this fine early Friday morning?"

"Mr. Felton instructed me to bring clothes, breakfast, and tell you to get dressed immediately."

He handed me the garment bag and a little box with a daisy sticker.

"I'll be waiting downstairs. You have ten minutes."

And as he walked off, he turned around and said, "Felton's schedule is tight today, so ten minutes tops."

The mention of Mr. Felton's name sparked electricity through my body.

Get yourself together, Jennifer.

I opened the black nylon bag and found a pair of red lacy panties and bra to match, along with business slacks and a button-up shirt.

I lusted over the pretty, petite panties and lacy bra. I may have a small obsession with beautiful lingerie.

Letting the robe slide from my shoulders, I removed the lace from the little pink hangers and slipped them on.

The lingerie fit like it was made for my body. I couldn't help but wonder how he knew. That type of thing wasn't on my resume, but then again, he most likely saw hundreds of women naked considering his profession. I wondered if he could guess any woman's size just by studying her bare body for a few seconds. Hell, he could probably guess with them fully clothed.

I slipped the straps over my shoulders and reached my hands behind and clasped. The way the bra hugged my body was pure perfection. The material fit like a glove, but softer, and sexier, that was for damn sure. The panties felt just as nice, except they were high cut in the bottom, not quite a thong but not quite a panty. I didn't usually wear that style, but wow, they made my ass look great. Tan skin paired with steamy red lingerie, I looked sexy. It's amazing what flawlessly designed lingerie could do to a woman's self-esteem.

I pulled the pressed slacks from the hanger, size seven—man he was good—and slipped on the button-up shirt that went all the way up to the neck. I looked like a prude with nastiness hidden underneath.

In the back of the garment bag, a scribbled note read:

Wear your hair down. –F. Felton

After a quick brush of the teeth, and another look in the mirror, I was out the door. Not full makeup because it wasn't necessary, just a little color on the lips.

A feeling crept up inside of me that I couldn't quite put my finger on. The excitement of the unknown raged and flipped.

Outside, the reflections of the surrounding buildings danced upon the limo. I felt too upper class riding it in and completely out of my zone. As I walked closer, Charlie greeted me with a head nod and opened the back door. Before I climbed in, I thanked him, and took a deep breath, hoping my heart wouldn't burst from my chest. The thought of seeing Mr. Felton sitting inside the limo made me nervous. How would he act now that I'd agreed to join his team? Treat me like a whore? Demand me to obey him? I didn't know, but I would soon find out.

Once inside the limo, I expected to see green eyes and messy hair eagerly awaiting me, but my arrival was greeted with evil looks from two women.

Well damn , was my last thought before the limo door closed and we sped off.

"Ms. Downs, my name is Paisley, and this is Jessica, but she likes to be called Jesse. We have been assigned to mentor you over the next few weeks."

Intimidation and doubt slowly replaced my excitement. Paisley looked like a goddess with naturally tanned skin, golden brown hair, and a face only the daughter of Zeus could have. Jesse had blonde hair, a petite nose, light skin, and bright red lips. If I believed in the supernatural, I might have assumed she was a vampire. These two women couldn't be more opposite from one another, and they rivaled in beauty.

"As she said, we will be mentoring you for the next few weeks." Jesse's tone was nothing but disinterest coated in boredom. She sighed after she spoke, and then mumbled something, which I only assumed to be bitchy by the way her head bobbed, to Paisley. I overheard things like: she's not wearing makeup, just another one of Finn's toys, not going to cut it.

I cleared my throat and then spoke. "Excuse me, I'm right here, and can hear you."

Jesse crossed her arms and legs and pushed her body further into the soft leather seats. I wished they would suck her in.

"I apologize, Ms. Downs. Jessica can sometimes forget her manners."

Paisley sent her an incredulous look, but Jesse returned it with an open eye roll and a moan. She treated me like a second-class citizen, not good enough to be in the same car with her.

Paisley smiled at me, not a big warm smile, but a courteous one.

"So where were we? Oh yes. Mentoring. If you are to be an Elite, you must act as an Elite, which requires proper etiquette training. Think of it as orientation if you will."

"Okay," I muttered.

"Just because Finn wants you as one of his, doesn't mean you are guaranteed a place in the ranks. You will be tested, and there are two inevitable outcomes: either you pass or fail. Only you will decide," Paisley said.

Her tone never rose. She was all business while Jesse was all bitchiness.

"Tell her about the last girl, Pais. Tell her how she got fired," Jesse said.

"No. I will not, Jessica."

Paisley turned her body toward me.

"Your training began the very moment you were handed that garment bag. I can see you follow instructions. Well done," Paisley said.

Then a thought crossed my mind. Charlie had warned me as he walked down the stairs. He said Mr. Felton had a tight schedule. Of course, if I had gotten the hint, I would have known that he wasn't in the limo waiting for me. I know how to follow instructions, but am practically blind when it comes to subtle clues.

Paisley's words echoed in my mind, training and tested . What kind of tests could they give a virgin? I chuckled to myself as I imagined a ridiculous line at a carnival, but for sexual favors. Step right up, Ladies and Gentlemen, the world's biggest virgin will learn how to perform blow jobs. I groaned.

Either way, I had to take this seriously because Paisley's words, although rough around the edges, were true. I would either join the ranks or wait until my savings completely depleted. Then I would be forced to go back to Texas. The fact was I would do anything to avoid that. Well almost anything.

The car skidded to a halt, and Charlie opened the door with a blank expression on his face. Paisley and Jesse exited, and I followed their lead. Long, slim legs led the way, and wow, they were like gazelles.

The two goddesses led me into the building. I couldn't help but wonder if Mr. Felton sat in his cozy glass windowed office drinking whiskey with another prospective employee naked in front of his desk. Why did I even given a damn?