Fifty Shades of Lies

clothes on, seriously are you kidding me… I have bigger plans for my life,” I swaggered with great conviction.

“That’s what I want to hear… well said.” He buzzed. “You’re a smart cookie. What we do for money doesn’t always depict who we are. Glad we are on the same page,” his lip curled in a wryly smile.

How did he turn this around on me? Now he was complementing me. Still, he didn’t give me an answer. He was good at spinning things around.

“I am sorry Mr. Maximillion, my intention wasn’t to put you in a hot seat, it was just, well, you’re so damn confident and when you said that I wanted you from the first time—”

He reached over and placed his hand over mine, a jolt of energy channeled through my veins. I tried to pull back, but would not dare. “Hey slim no need to apologize. Never edit yourself on my account. I admire your tenacity by saying what you feel,” he continued, his voice softened, and turned mesmerizing. “Even though, what I said is based on the truth and facts.”

I cocked my head and placed my fork down. I was no longer in the mood to eat.

“Truth… what truth?” I swallowed hard… feeling more regrets streaming through my body. I wished I never opened my mouth by challenging him.

“The truth about who you are…”—Oh God, he knows I am not Rae—“Of course I know who you are… I wasn’t born yesterday, as a matter of fact, I was born over fifty-thousand years ago.”

“What? You were what?” I felt my face turn pallid.

“Oh my dear sweet doll, you look like you just seen a ghost,” He laughed, from the belly, out loud. “I am joking with you… do I really look fifty-thousand years old?”

“That’s not funny.” A nervous whimper escaped from my lips. I tried to gain my compousure. Think quick before he takes all your power away. “Actually, Steele, I thought you were only… gosh… fifty years old.” I smirked.

“Cute.” He pointed his finger at me, as if to scold a child. “Are you done eating? I don’t want you to get too fat. You know the camera adds a few pounds.” His eyed me up and down.

Holy fuck. God, you are a sensitive baby, aren’t you? How dare you talk about my weight, you fucking grizzly bear. I cursed him inwardly.  Is this guy for real? I guessed he didn’t like my age joke. Too bad. He was the one that brought the age factor up. Not me. Nothing is like paybacks. One minute he is saying put on weight, the next I am fat. I couldn’t believe he told me I was fucking fat. What guy says that?

My inner goddess peered over her dark rimmed glasses… she filled her cheeks with hot air, giving me insight to how I might look if I were fat. I glared back at her. It was obvious she was jealous of me.

“So, now you think I am fat?” My vocal cords vibrated, so did my hands. “First you tell me to gain weight, then you say I am fat… what is with that? Is that why you keep giving me apples to eat—did you know apples are full of sugar?” I stammered on and on. “Do you know how confusing you are?”

“No, not exactly, now calm down… I think you’re perfect the way you are… it’s the camera that might not like you?” His voice was poignant. “As for the apples, they are a gift.”

“A gift?” I buzzed.

“Yes, a gift… My apples are special, they offer vitality, long-life and knowledge—insight—when you come face to face, with lives most sticky situations—you will be prepared.”

“What do you mean?” His emphasizes on the word sticky. It was a bit disconcerting. I could have sworn he was trying to send me a message… perhaps, a clue for what’s to come: a sexual innuendo? His baritone voice made me feel kind of heady, and my limbs tingled. On second thought, it was his intense gaze, burning me to the core that afflicted me.

“I suppose you could say they are magical,” His eyes alight brightly then faded.

“Magical?” The word caught in my throat.

“Yes, very much so,” he picked up the apple… and brushed it against my lips. I felt like purring for him, but hesitated to do so. “Take a bite,” he said lowly.

I bit the apple as seductively as one could, keeping my eyes on him the entire time. After swallowing the delicious fruit; waves of heat radiated in my panties.

“Wow if I didn’t know better Mr. Maximillion, I would say you are trying to seduce me…” My breath was wistful and clear.

“Oh I think you know better.” His eyes locked with mine. I felt the blood drain from my face. “I like you Miss Ridame. I like you a lot, so much that I am going to revise our typical contestant’s contract, especially for you.”

I felt major heat rushing to my face. He liked me… Wow of course he did, but how much? Oh, wait, he said a lot. Was this just another setup, like the time in the garage when he asked for my hand in marriage? One of his fifty shades of lies? I was not prepared for him to be so candid. I flashed him a curious eye. Breathe, breathe—breathe—I reminded myself.

“Really…?” I questioned him calmly. Suddenly a ball of fire bloomed below my waistline.

“That’s right.” He raised one brow, narrowing his eyes. Damn, his demeanor fluctuated fifty degrees in so many different directions. I could not keep track of them all.

“Well, I like you too.” I said hoarsely. My words caught in the back of my throat, waiting for the last shoe to fall. I rapidly batted my lashes. Shit, double shit…I more than like you—you big hunk of muscle. If I were not trying to leave a good impression on him, I would have hopped in his lap and fucked his brains out. More than likely he had big brains—I already knew he had a big head, literally that is, and I could not wait to see the rest of him.

“Is this where I ask what’s your offer?” I blurted out, suddenly my skin felt hotter than before. I knew what I wanted from this gorgeous man and it was not finding a husband on his TV show, nor was it between the pages of a contract. God, I was feeling so naughty.

“No, this is where I tell you want I am going to give you.” His voice was trite, again. He smirked then winked.

“Isn’t that the same thing…?” I challenged him, again.

“Let’s get down to the details… as you know the devil is in the details Miss Bleu-Rae.” His smirk deepened. Interesting choice of words, I thought.

“I’m all ears… Mr. Steele.” I smiled delightfully. Here goes, I had never negotiated a business deal with a man so powerful in my entire life. This was so overwhelming. Lately I was doing a few things I had never done before.

“I no longer want you as a contestant. I want to hire you as my personal assistant for the show.” His lips turned up to a faint smile. God, he was devastatingly handsome.

“What?” I blanched. “I came to you looking for a hubby. Why would you want me to do this… This doesn’t make sense. You don’t even know if I qualify for the position.” I rattled.

“Sense—why should any of this make sense. But, I have a good feeling you can handle any position.” His smile deepened.

I blushed, feeling somewhat embarrassed. He was a sick man indeed… a freak—getting personal satisfaction out of putting me in the hot seat. I could feel my lips quivering nervously.

“Let me get this straight, you want me to be your personal assistant?” I asked.

“Yes, that is the straight of it,” he smiled; revealing his perfectly aligned pearly whites. My breath stopped. His hearty laughter swooned over me.

“So, what exactly does my job require, like what would be my duties?” I will make you suffer if you are brain fucking me Mr. Maximillion.

“Doing anything I ask of you…” He firmly replied.

“Anything? Such as typing your emails, bringing you Starbucks… ah… Err,” My mind felt like mush. Fuck me, I couldn’t think.

“Yes, Anything I need.” He grinned ear to ear. “Your most important part of your job is to have my back… on anything I do, that means if you have to—I expect you to lie for me.” His voice shrilled through my veins. For a second I thought I saw an apparition of horns rising out from his crown.

“Lie?” I glowered. “For you?” My voice, trailed off to a whisper.

“Yes, can you do that?” his expression was scrutinizing. “Take your time to think about this. It’s our choice.”

“I—” My voice cracked, swallowing my words.