Personal Assistant Pt. 02

This is a continuation of 'Personal Assistant' which was written in 2021. I would recommend starting with that story first. The plan is to continue this series weekly.

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Derick and Mary stumbled into the bathroom, their laughter echoing off the tiles as steam began to fill the small space. The wine had loosened them both, their inhibitions melting away with each sip. Mary turned on the shower, letting the hot water cascade down, and pulled Derick in with her. The spray hit their skin, washing away the remnants of their earlier passion, but igniting a fresh hunger.

"You're still tense," Mary teased, running her hands over his broad shoulders as the water plastered his dark hair to his forehead. She pressed her naked body against his, her breasts slick against his chest, her nipples hardening from the heat and the friction. Derick groaned, his cock already stirring again despite the intensity of their earlier release.

"I don't know how you do this to me," he murmured, his hands sliding down her wet curves to grip her hips. He pulled her closer, his erection pressing insistently against her stomach. Mary grinned, reaching down to wrap her fingers around his shaft, stroking him slowly under the stream of water.

"Then let me show you," she whispered, her voice husky with desire. She sank to her knees, the water pounding against her back as she took him into her mouth again. Derick's hands tangled in her soaked hair, his head tipping back as she worked him with expert precision. Her tongue swirled around the tip, then slid down his length, her lips tight and warm. The sensation was overwhelming--hot water, her hotter mouth, the steam clouding his vision. He couldn't hold back, his hips bucking as he came hard, spilling into her mouth with a guttural moan. Mary swallowed, looking up at him with a triumphant smirk as she stood.

"Better?" she asked, wiping water from her face.

"Much," he panted, pulling her up for a deep, grateful kiss. "But now it's your turn again."

He spun her around, pressing her against the tiled wall. The cool surface contrasted with the heat of the water and his body as he slid a hand between her thighs. Mary gasped as his fingers found her clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. She arched her back, pushing her ass against him, and he took the invitation, guiding his still-hard cock into her from behind. The angle was tight, perfect, and he thrust into her with a rhythm that matched the pounding of the shower. Mary's moans grew louder, her hands splaying against the wall as she pushed back against him. The water amplified every sensation--the slap of skin, the heat, the slickness--and soon she was trembling, her orgasm ripping through her with a cry that echoed in the enclosed space. Derick followed moments later, burying himself deep as he came again, his breath ragged against her neck.

They collapsed against each other, the water still pouring over them, laughing softly as they caught their breath. "I could get used to this," Derick said, kissing her shoulder.

"Then you'd better," Mary replied, turning to face him with a playful grin. "I'm not going anywhere."

After drying off and slipping into robes--Mary's barely covering her thighs--they poured more wine and settled on her bed, talking late into the night. The intimacy wasn't just physical; it was emotional, a connection Derick hadn't felt since Karen. For the first time in over a year, he felt alive, unburdened by guilt. Mary's presence was a balm, her laughter a lifeline.

The next morning, they decided to skip work entirely. Derick called the office, leaving a vague message about an "unexpected personal matter," while Mary texted her backup assistant to handle the day's essentials. They spent the morning lounging, cooking breakfast together, and stealing kisses between bites of pancakes. It felt domestic, natural--like they'd been doing it for years.

But as the afternoon rolled around, a shadow crept into their bubble of bliss. Derick's phone buzzed incessantly on the nightstand, and when he finally checked it, his face darkened. "It's the board," he muttered, scrolling through a string of urgent messages. "They're demanding an emergency meeting. Something about a financial discrepancy."

Mary sat up, her brow furrowing. "Discrepancy? What kind?"

"I don't know," he said, running a hand through his hair. "They're saying it's serious--millions unaccounted for. They want me in the office now."

"That doesn't make sense," Mary replied, her business mind kicking in. "You've tripled profits since you took over. How could there be millions missing?"

Derick shook his head, unease settling into his gut. "I don't know, but I have to go. If this is real, it could tank the company--or my career."

"I'm coming with you," Mary insisted, already sliding out of bed to dress. "You'll need me to sort through whatever mess this is."

They arrived at the office an hour later, greeted by a tense atmosphere. Staff whispered in corners, avoiding eye contact as Derick and Mary strode toward the boardroom. Inside, the directors sat stone-faced, a stack of documents spread across the table. The chairman, a grizzled man named Harold Grayson, fixed Derick with a hard stare.

"Derick, we've uncovered evidence of embezzlement," Harold said, sliding a folder toward him. "Over ten million dollars, siphoned from company accounts over the past six months. The trail leads straight to you."

Derick's jaw dropped, his heart pounding. "That's impossible. I've never touched a cent that wasn't mine."

"Then explain these transactions," Harold snapped, tapping the papers. "Your signature's on every one."

Mary snatched the folder, scanning the documents with a practiced eye. Her face paled. "These aren't right," she said, her voice shaking. "I've seen Derick's signature a hundred times--it's close, but it's not his. Someone's forged it."

"Who?" Derick demanded, his mind racing. "Who'd have access to my accounts and the balls to pull this off?"

Before anyone could answer, the boardroom door swung open, and a security guard stepped in, flanked by two police officers. "Derick Holster?" one of the officers said, stepping forward with handcuffs gleaming in his hand. "You're under arrest for suspicion of embezzlement and fraud."

"What?" Derick stammered, stepping back. "This is a mistake!"

Mary grabbed his arm, her eyes wide with panic. "Wait, you can't do this--he's innocent! We just need time to--"

"Step aside, ma'am," the officer barked, moving toward Derick.

As the cuffs clicked around his wrists, Derick's gaze locked with Mary's, a silent plea passing between them. The boardroom erupted into chaos--directors shouting, Mary arguing with the officers--but Derick's mind narrowed to a single, cold realization: someone had orchestrated this, and they were still in the shadows, pulling strings.