Mister Lane (CEOs of Kink #4)

Mr. Brayden Lane

Chapter

One

Istared down at the screen with a sneer.

It was on the tip of my tongue to demand that the stressed-out Hiring Manager send every last one of the applicants away without even the small courtesy of an interview.

I knew it wasn’t her fault, though. She was just as frustrated and fed up over the situation as we were.

The small, lavishly appointed waiting area outside the meeting room where the interviews were currently scheduled to be conducted was packed full of women.

There wasn’t a single place left to sit.

Even the coffee and end tables were occupied with bodies waiting to be interviewed for the position.

Each one was more beautiful than the last. Most of whom I recognized as women who had worked for our company, mainly because they had done everything within their abilities to “accidentally” bump into me at one time or another.

I couldn’t go into the cafeteria on the first floor for a sandwich without having a pair of tits pressed into my arm.

The offending woman would flutter her lashes and simper with gushing apologies.

Then it always quickly turned into flattery and attempted flirtation.

“Oh! Mr. Lane! I didn’t see you there. I’m so sorry. Oh my! Your arms are so hard and muscular. You must spend a lot of time in the gym!” Cue fluttering fucking eyelashes.

There was even one time that a woman had followed me into the men’s restroom pretending to have entered the wrong room for about two fucking seconds before dropping all pretences right about the time she dropped to her knees. “Let me show you how good I can be with my mouth, Mr. Lane…”

“You’re fired,” I’d growled while dodging grabby hands tipped in what looked like lethal red talons.

I liked to do the chasing, and I’d yet to find a woman I wanted to expend the effort on.

This whole fucking personal assistant bullshit had been a pain in the ass for months.

My brother had a good one for the last few years.

She had been a wonderful woman who was happily married and had no desire to cheat, sleep around, or otherwise attempt to get into either my brother’s or my pants.

Then her husband had a job offer in Europe that he couldn’t refuse, so we wished them well and sent her on her way with a very sizable severance package and a glowing recommendation letter.

Since then, each candidate has lasted a week or less.

Some hadn’t even lasted an hour. From stripping naked to attempted blackmail, each person—males not to be excluded—has tried to extort or just flat out use my brother or me sexually.

We’d tried hiring from within, simply promoting other secretaries, but that hadn’t worked as expected.

The ones who had been pulled from other offices had pounced on the opportunity, thinking they had been cherry-picked specifically for their bodies and not for their role as personal assistant.

The ones who were randomly chosen from the secretarial pool had the same outcome.

When we agreed to post a company-wide memo for the job position opportunity, it had turned into a frenzy.

Nearly every employee in the building had rushed to apply, whether they were qualified for the position or not.

After how many we had already fired over the last few months, the number of qualified applicants was limited.

In the end, we’d had to resort to opening the position to the public.

The entire situation had turned into a fucking joke.

After the multiple arrests due to sexual harassment and all the indecency charges we’d had pressed on the many men and women over the last few months, Human Resources had sent out a company-wide memo reminding everyone about the consequences of harassment.

You would think that they would get a fucking clue.

But yet, here we fucking were. Vultures in stilettos, just waiting for their first opportunity to sink their talons into a Lane.

With another frustrated snarl, I started to turn away from the security feed. I was about to tell the Hiring Manager, Mrs. Gunter, to find all new applicants for the personal assistant to the CEO, when activity at the top of the monitor caught my eye.

“Well, what do we have here?” I murmured quietly. With the immediate shift in demeanor and tone, my brother, who had been sitting back in his chair and doing a pitiful job of suppressing a grimace, leaned forward at my words.