by Avery Aster
Opening his office door, he let her in behind him and closed the door, locking the knob.
She turned, fear vivid in her eyes. “What is it?”
He stepped forward. “Take a seat.”
“Masi?” Lex sat on a bench in his office’s corner.
“Call me Your Majesty.” He closed the blinds and sat opposite her.
“Excuse me?” The color left her cheeks. “Tell me what—”
“Alexandra. I hope you can tell me what you are up to.” His arms crossed over his chest.
Agitated, she replied, “We’ve busted our asses to fix the samples. I need to discuss some North American branding challenges with you.” She held up her hands, showing her scrapes and cuts from the material. Her hands were inked in blue from the dye and shaking from her nervousness. She pushed her blonde locks behind her ears, showcasing the red splotches popping alongside her neck.
This conversation was worse to Massimo than their first dinner together. He didn’t know her then. He didn’t like her. But now, he was falling for her.
“Anything you want to tell me about my fabrics?” He leaned forward on the bench, trying to keep his heart cold and still. Please be honest with me, Lex.
Her face softened. “You know?”
Massimo gave her a nod. “Sì.”
“I didn’t think you’d give me the fabrics when I asked. At first you didn’t and then you did. Easton’s shipment left your warehouse.” She paused, her head hanging low. “I intended to tell you last night, but I fell asleep. This morning, I wanted to tell you again, but we didn’t have time for…anything.”
“Tell me now.” He wanted to hear if her version rang different than what Luigi shared with him.
“Your fabrics are the best in the world. They surpass Donatella in form, texture and thread count.”
“Sì, grazie, but we know this already.”
“In shapewear, the average consumer washes her garment about two hundred and fifty times, assuming she’ll own the item for about three years.” She crossed her legs, sitting up on the bench and reaching for his hand.
Massimo didn’t give it to her, instead crossing his arms over his chest. No, bella.
She continued, “The Easton Essentials label prides itself on having a five-year warranty. I have the fabrics sent to Shanghai where they are treated with a Teflon-like coating for endurance. I claim half the time cycle due to varying degrees people may wash their garments—some may use bleach, breaking the fabric down even more.”
His face was getting hot. Massimo loosened his tie, removing his blazer. Angry? No. Annoyed? Yes. Speechless, too. How did his team not know to improve the fabrics? Let alone not know their wearability? Because Girasoli only supplied textiles, not produced apparel—big difference.
“You should have told me the minute we agreed to work together. You broke my trust, although I cannot blame you. You have to do what is right for Easton. Perhaps this is why you are casual about us.” Lex went about everything in an unconventional manner, unfamiliar to him yet fascinating.
“I’m trying to digest it as it comes. Girasoli’s business, Easton’s business. Your life, my life. I don’t want my feelings for you to get in the way of how we make business decisions. Do you?”
“My feelings?”
“The first thing you rattled off to me was this is business.”
She’d thrown his words back in his face. He’d felt horrible when he spoke them, and he felt inferior sitting there, assuming the worst and being told them again, in this context. I should’ve trusted her.
Did he hear her right? “You do not want your emotions for me to cloud your ability to make decisions.” He paused and continued, “Are you saying you care for me?”
“Yes!” Lex stared at him, tender and sweet. “But remember, no pressure,” she joked.
“Come here.” He tapped his lap for her to move closer.
“I don’t warm up easy.” She shook her head. “You gallivanted in here a few minutes ago as a royal shithead.”
“Scusami.” He lowered his voice as it filled with regret. “Will you accept my apology?”
“Maybe.” She stood and smiled at him. Stepping forward, she sat next to him, slipping her hand into his as her other glided across his chest. “I recognize that, with what you’ve shared with me, believing in someone may be a challenge. You have to trust me.”
“Bella, I do believe in you.” He squeezed her hand tighter. “I have never leaned on anyone, above all for business.”
Lex undid his top two buttons, sliding her warm hand against his right pectoral muscle. She tweaked his nipple and he moaned.
Feels good. He shifted his legs, getting hard from her touch.
“Masi, you’re going to need to have faith in what I want to share with you next.”
He kissed her, not letting her finish. Massimo hoped he’d want to kiss her again after she shared her news. Her tense lips softened as he plunged his tongue inside, making their moment together stand still. Eight hours had passed since the last time he’d tasted her. Massimo inhaled and asked, “What is it?”
Her face became more confident. “When I started selling your brand to the stores this afternoon, we realized Girasoli’s brand equity is nil. You’re a trade market fabric supplier, not a brand. Jemma confirmed your team didn’t think about consumer branding.”
“Jemma is correct, we did not. What did the buyers say?”
Lex went over the emails and communication in detail. “We’re going to have to create a new brand called Easton Express for Girasoli. We’ll co-brand our two companies for the mass channels. It won’t upset my prestige market for Easton Essentials, and you’ll give me a cut on this.” She unzipped his fly.
Oh, bella. “How much?” He focused on her words, trying to manage her actions.
“Thirty-five percent,” she replied, her lips curling into a wicked grin. She seized his cock in her hands. “I’d sign a licensing contract, giving Girasoli the right to use a flanker Easton brand for the mass-market channels.”
Damn her cuteness.
She jacked him, waiting for a response.
“And if I disagree?” She literally has me by the balls.
“The entire consumer deal is off: no buyers, no new label, no North America. But you’ll press on with your textile supply.” She licked her pointer and middle finger, returning her touch to his cock’s head. She traced her wet fingers over his sensitive slit and teased. “Our collaboration makes you hard.”
“Twenty percent.” He leaned up to kiss her.
Lex pulled her face back, motioning a no-no. Fisting her perfect hand around his cock, she glared at him as if she’d snap his penis in half. “Thirty.”
“Twenty-five,” he panted, finding this to be a challenging conversation. Discussing money with his lover holding his cock in her hands was too much. Fuck, my precum. Shit. Ohhh, bella. Massimo’s cock inched toward release. Having her in his lap, the money dialogue, and the way she smelled—it was euphoric.
Taking her time, she swiped her nail over his slit, picking up a teardrop release with her ring finger. Lex brought the moisture to her lips. “We have a deal, Masi. Twenty-five percent it is.”
Air stuck in his throat as if he’d swallowed a sock. Never did Massimo execute business collaborations in this fashion. The more he witnessed how Lex’s brain worked, the more he fell in love with her. Since day one, he’d resisted giving in to her, both on a professional and personal level. He’d never met anyone as selfless, smart and able to help others in his entire life. Her ability to give became her best quality.
“Any more surprises you want to tell me about, my principessa?”
With a pump of her hand, Lex jacked his cock. “No, sir. Stand up for me,” she commanded and dropped to her knees.
Massimo jumped onto his toes.
Slacks hit the floor, showing his legs and lower stomach.
Lex yanked his underwear down.
“Bella, what are you doing
?” He knew the answer already as he unbuttoned his shirt.
She tugged on his cock with affection and replied, “Giving you pleasure. Sound familiar?” Lex stroked his balls and licked his shaft. She said, “I want you, Masi. I’ve wanted you all week. I want your release, too. Give it to me.”
“Sì, sì, sì, my bella. I will give you whatever you want.” His nuts swelled.
“Such a gigantic dick.” She stroked harder.
His cock rose to her attention. Wiggling his toes in his loafers with anticipation for what came next, electricity ran up his left leg then his right.
“You wanna put it down my throat, Masi?” She looked up at him as if she even needed to ask. “You need to relax.” Lex stroked his nuts in her hands.
“I am relaxed—now,” Massimo teased, bracing his stance and holding on to Lex’s head.
“I mean it, Masi. Have fun this week with me. I know when you visit me in New York, I’ll be stressed with Fashion Week and stuff. But I’m here now.”
“Get ready, baby.” He gripped his cock’s base.
“I’ve been ready.” Lex stroked him. He caught her from his eye’s crest, admiring her. Massimo’s precum laced her lips as she glanced up with pleasure.
“Prin—ci—pessa, you are bringing me great pleasure.” Massimo watched with admiration as Lex licked, then shoved his cock in her mouth.
Lex’s lips curved up. She pulled back a second and said, “Good!” Then she continued sucking his dick.
“Can you take it all?” He drew her face back from him and bent down to kiss her. He tasted his excitement on her lips. “I want you to go as far as you can. Get it nice and wet, baby. Take it all.”
“Push my limits, Masi. Come on.” Hungry lips stared up at him, open and ready, and she moaned.
He gripped his base once again, pushing his manhood farther into her little mouth. “Open wider for me,” he instructed.
“Mmmm.” Her wet tongue wrapped around the head, and he thrust in farther. Mouth wider, she received him. Her lips rested over his thickness, shying from taking his entire cock. Her eyes watered, but she didn’t pull away. Determined to get his entire dick down her throat, she leaned into him. “Give me.”
“Bella, whatever you want.” Noticing she’d take more, his cock slid in and out, in and out, in and out, not letting her mouth escape this unity. Gonna fuck your face, bella.
“Yes, yes, Masi. I want your cock.” In a frantic plunge, her mouth dove over his shaft. Hot and wet, sucking him off, he loved this. Lex’s cheeks caved in as she gasped for air. She pulled back. “God, you—”
“Suck my dick, bella. Come on.” With a gentle yet firm hold on her head, he guided her mouth over his cock. “You wanted it. Let me give you more.” He buried her nostrils in his pubic hair. When he felt her two front teeth graze the base of his cock, he shook her head back and forth with a slight nod.
Lex sucked harder.
He felt his precum going down her throat.
She tugged on his nuts.
The rhythm became rapid as her head bobbed back and forth and he complimented her, moaning, “Good girl, bella. Good, good girl.”
“Maaaasi.” Lex wrapped her delicate fingers around his shaft, jerking him off harder, sucking on his sensitive tip, and licking all over his shaft. “Give it to me, baby. Come on.”
“Bella.” The friction increased as he pumped harder.
Nuts slapped her wet skin.
“More.” She swallowed him whole as he felt his cock’s head cushion against her tonsils.
Nails dug into his ass cheeks.
“Bellisima, I’m going to come.” Ready to shoot his load down her throat, he debated if she’d take it. “You’re making me come. Oh, dio.” Fingers knuckled in her hair, he steered her face back away from his cock.
“Give me.” She leaned forward. She wanted to swallow him.
“You want to taste me, bella?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer, ramming his girth down her throat.
A loud slurping sound came from her lips. More tears found their way down her cheeks and her lips curled up, but she sucked harder.
Massimo released the sticky pearl liquid in her mouth. He felt the first squirt shoot down her throat. Lex jerked her head back in response. With a tight grasp, he guided her down over his orgasm. “Take it, bella. Take it all.” She gagged for air, swallowing his load. He spurted again. She consumed more. Her tongue extended, receiving his final squirt as he shot.
“Mmm.” Lex wiped her lips.
He pulled her onto her feet. Massimo kissed her warm forehead first, each flushed cheek, red nose tip, and her swollen lips. Shoving his tongue in her mouth, he tasted himself.
“A license contract means you are mine for a two-year minimum, bella. Will you stay the week’s remainder with me to work out the details?” He wanted more time with her.
“Sorry, but I fly back to New York tomorrow. Gotta get ready for my show.” She hugged him, resting her face on this chest. “Fly back with me.”
He rested his chin on her head’s crown. “I have not been to your city since…my padre died.” A cold knot formed in his stomach. If he went to the States, he’d pay a visit to Paloma. It didn’t seem right to go to Manhattan and not see his only sister. But more than he cared to admit, he didn’t have it in him. “Let us head home. You and Jemma have a party to get ready for.” He kissed her hand, holding it in his and not wanting to give any more thought to Lex leaving his side.
“Wait ’til you see the dress I’m wearing tonight.”
“Does it show your legs?”
“Uh-huh, it shows my legs all right.”
Panties Comin’ Off
“Okay, folks! It’s about time. Right? Right! The moment we’ve all been waiting for. Our frigid friend is finally gonna get some.” —Vive Farnworth, Debauchery magazine founding editor, Lhasa Apso lover.
Undress Me
Frozen, Lex glared at the full-length mirror.
Fullness stared back at her, and it hollered, “Hello, Pamela Anderson.”
Jemma’s alterations had tightened the dress into something resembling a Band-Aid taped to her body. “No way in catwalk Hell can I leave the mansion wearing your gown. I’m sorry.” She felt as naked as an attention-seeker and dipped in tinsel. “You cut way more fabric than we agreed on.”
Glancing over Lex’s shoulder, Jemma held back a laugh, her lips trembling. “My darling, I didn’t imagine you’d be this provocative. I have an idea to soften it.” She turned Lex around. “Let’s draw your hair up, give you smoky eyes, and then the attenzione goes straight to your face, no?” She twisted Lex’s hair to a chignon. “Sì?” Jemma removed a diamond pin from her head and clipped it on hers. “Magnifico! You may keep my hair jewelry, darling.”
“You’re blind, right? The last feature people will see is my face.” She tried to slouch, hoping her breasts would rest, compress—anything. She never thought she’d wish for a flatter chest. But she was, and they didn’t flatten.
“We’re running late.” Jemma tossed her a lip gloss tube. “Put this on and let’s go. Luigi and Massimo are waiting for us in the car.”
Massimo’s gonna flip. “Can you tell the guys I’ll be right down?”
“Sì, be right back.” Jemma headed for the door.
“And where’s this self-confidence you promised?”
“Grazie for the reminder. I’ll return with your courage, my darling.” Jemma strutted from the bedroom, leaving Lex to stare at herself, wondering what she’d meant.
Maybe the longer she gawked, the less shocked she’d be. Lex closed her eyes and opened them again. Nope. Still scandalous.
Lex didn’t commit any crime. After all, her nipples, and privates were covered, and she didn’t show much cleavage. But the garment simply oozed suggestiveness.
Similar to a nude hosiery material from nylon, elastane and cotton, the fabric remained unique to the marketplace. Crystals had been dusted over the bustline, midsection and buttocks
in a mosaic effect. Jemma boasted she spent over eighty hours placing each Swarovski embellishment in place. The gown radiated sheer genius only to be outdone by painter and mosaicist Cimabue. But this wasn’t one of his frescoes.
Unscrewing the cap, Lex lacquered baby pink gloss over her lips. She picked up a charcoal eye pencil, outlining her eyes with smoky mystique.
Jemma emerged at the door. “Your makeup is perfetto. Good job. The guys rode ahead in the first limo. You and I are going to take the second town car.”
“Great, thank you.”
“Prego. Here, put this on.” She handed her a black raincoat. “Ditch the jacket the second you get up to the press box. Massimo will meet you at security. Capisce?”
“Jemma, this reminds me of sneaking out of the house as a kid in an outfit my parents grounded me for wearing.”
“Where do you suppose the idea came from?” Jemma snorted and handed her a shot glass filled with syrup.
She held it to her nose. “And what’s this?” The clear liquid smelled grappa-ish and stirred thick against the glass.
“It’s confidence, my darling, Mona Lisa-style,” Jemma encouraged, as if she’d already swigged her own tumbler or two. “To your boobage! Salute!”
“Not funny.” Lex pinched her nostrils together and knocked it back. Her eyes stung as the sweet syrup numbed her throat.
“Such a Yankee Doodle you are.” Jemma held out the bottle and poured one more shot. “For good luck.”
Lex swigged the second round fast, the bitter aftertaste puckering her tongue. Nasty.
Before leaving, Jemma coached Lex on how to secure a dramatic pose on the red carpet and to drop her chin when on camera. She rehearsed with her what to say to the reporters when asked about the gown.
Where is she? Massimo stood, waiting for his date, his bodyguards not far behind. The security checkpoint for the red carpet was packed with the press and celebrities, and opposite the velvet rope stood fans. Celebrities piled under the canopy and grouped shoulder to shoulder. It started to sprinkle—typical for a Milan summer evening.