Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
“He’s going to fire me.”
“Maybe, but you’ll find another job.” She says it as though finding a job is the easiest thing. Especially one that pays this well. It took me three months to land this one and my bank account is now hurting.
“I’m guessing I can get on where you work?”
“It’s frowned upon to hit customers.”
“Well, damn. What has the world come to?” I pick up my glass, taking a healthy sip. It really is good. I better enjoy it while I can because it looks like it’s only going to be wine in a box for the foreseeable future while I’m unemployed.
“He might not fire you. We could dye your hair or something. He’ll never know it’s you.” I reach up to touch my hair that has never been subjected to dye in its life.
“I’ll pass.” I think I’m more disappointed in finding out what Finn is really like. “I didn't think he'd be one of those pompous assholes who thinks they can buy anything they want and that you'll spread your legs because they have money.”
“Oh, honey. They all are that way. Trust me, I know.” She would. She is surrounded by them every day. It’s worse when you have a name like B.J. and look as stunning as she does. I throw back the rest of my wine.
“I’m going to go in there and pretend it never happened. Introduce myself like it’s the first time we’ve ever met. Maybe he’ll think it wasn’t me. The restaurant was dark.”
“The elevator isn't.”
“Right but still. He’d had a few glasses of something. I’m sure of it.”
“If anyone can pull it off it’s you.” I wish I had the confidence she has in me. I have to make this work. There is no other option. Not only could my new boss fire me, but I’m sure he can get me blackballed too. I’d have to move to the other side of the world and even then he probably has reach there too. Sadly, he probably has the capability to buy anything he wants. But that doesn’t include me.
Chapter 3
Finn
My dream’s a good one. She’s straddling me with her ass in my face. I’m eating out her pussy as she sucks my dick into the back of her throat. When I’m close to blowing, I pull her mouth off and slide her cunt down until she can mount me. I watch my cock shuttle in and out of her channel while her ass cheeks jiggle. I slap one round bit of flesh before grabbing her hips and holding her while I thrust inside her slick, tight heat. She moans and my eyeballs roll to the back of my head. This is good shit. Real good shit. Fuck me, baby. Use my cock.
She climaxes, her cream coating my shaft and then my thighs. My own orgasm seizes me. A gallon of cum shoots into her pussy, and from the way her toes curl and her head throws back, the force of my ejaculation has set her off.
Before I can make her come again, though, my alarm jolts me from my slumber. It’s time to get up. With a sigh, I roll out of bed. The sheets are a mess. I haven’t had a wet dream since I was ten or eleven. I huff out a small, chagrined laugh and make my way to the bathroom.
A quick shower and shave later and I’m ready for my butler slash houseman slash savior of my home life, Timothy.
“You must have a good takeover planned,” he comments as he folds a square of silk into my breast pocket.
“Why do you say that?” I ask. “The blue tie was a good choice with the suit,” I add.
“Thank you and I make mention because you were whistling. You do not whistle unless you’re about to make an acquisition. Is it the sporting goods company?”
“Damn, Timothy, can’t a man whistle for the hell of whistling?”
He doesn’t give me a reply but instead brushes some imaginary lint off my chest and steps away. “Will you be eating at home tonight or out?”
A brief vision of a pink pussy dangling above my face flashes in front of me. “Hopefully eating at home, Timothy, but I’ll take care of it myself,” I add hastily as he was about to make a note to have the chef prepare something. Tim’s idea of a good dinner tonight is probably steak. I’m hoping for something sweeter.
On the way to my office, I check out my face in the rearview mirror. My cheek still stings but I’m not certain if it’s the memory of getting slapped or if she actually bruised me. I’m hoping it’s the first one because otherwise her little hand has to hurt. First thing on my agenda is to get the guest list, find out her name, and send her a little care package. Jewelry always soothed all my mother’s pains so second item on my agenda will be to call Tiffany’s. Something gold and sparkly should help ease the pain in her hand.