CEO's Precious Assistant

r&rsquo

I should be my doctor.

d and by now, I was sure as hell would have it working already. To make it worse, I was feelin

eeded my command, he was only looking at me, waiting, eager for me to tell him th

sten. I wanted to go back home, curled up inside my bed, and asked m

Although the doctor who diagnosed me with social phobia advised I should have someone to talk to me whenever I felt like I was suf

my own

e a longer route as I tried to calm down my titties. Fucking shit! I hated the feeli

can’t. I am so

him, I knew what I should do. If he had called me, the medi

” Do

Marcus.

, ma&rsquo

, he squeezed, “darling, you look beautiful tonight

rds meant, “darling, you know the doctor said

arts that don’t exist anymore in this world.” He said, softly. His deep velvety tone relaxing. He smiled; a

, for a second, it was me

side the Harewood four walls, you learn to grow a thick skin. If my mother ever praised you, she was lyin

alive. I felt contented. I felt relieved. I felt like I could tackle

ere.” Marcus broke us

fall, “Marcus, it is oka

a woman having contractions. Let me just say, nothing worked. As we neared, my c

rsey. Yeap, sometimes, I was a little bit unpredicted, I needed his touch, I didn’t need i

u can get yoursel

you, ma&rsq

eryone’s eyes laid on us, and my legs almost buckled. The paralysis was about to return, again. I felt Dorsey&rsqu

usband. I w

rning, rolling, needing out. I pulled away as he was talking to some investors or were they mother’s friend

ing

here for the children and the elderly,

n in front of me was indescribable, since she was righ

ng sweaty, I could feel my back getting drenched, no one approached me and I was certai

I took earlier didn’t work. I eyed the bartender walking away with glasses and as if h

s, so good, familiar, how I miss it. Before I took a sip, my husband walked in, looking angry and hot at the same time. “I know you sa

sorry Sinclair.” H

, my head faced down at the disgusting white porce