by Ellie Rowe
I step back from him and untie my robe, letting it slip off my shoulders to the floor. Hmm. We’ve never fucked in the kitchen before, have we?
Thirty-Eight
Roger
The boardroom of my company is all abuzz. It’s hard to believe that a year ago, I was hatching a plan they were all hesitant to go along with. Now, they’re all glad they trusted me.
Even Mr. Whiny-kins seems happy. I’ve also since re-learned his name. It’s Theodore. But, in my book, Mr. Whiny-kins is actually a better name, so that’s what I still call him in my head. And, once at a company party, I called him that to his face.
“Fabulous,” Ellen declares from her seat at the table. She, like the rest of the board, has just finished reviewing the proposal packets I gave them. “Just fabulous, Roger.”
She leads the room in a round of applause.
“I like the new logo,” says Lou. He holds up the proposal packet in front of him, which, like the others, features the new, much more restrained logo for Exposé Extra, the crown jewel of Blake Western’s tabloid empire.
Except now it’s the crown jewel to my tabloid empire.
“Truthfully,” Lou continues, his eyes wide and his teeth gleaming, “when you convinced us to sign off on your crazy plan to unload all those properties a year ago, I had a few guesses as to what you were up to. Never in a million years did I think you were going to get us into the tabloid business!”
More like reform the tabloid business. At least a little.
With the money I made via the ‘Plan’ I got my board to sign off on without knowing any details, and with Western feeling the sting of his court loss, I was able to purchase his entire media enterprise. It took a while to work out all the details, but now, Exposé Extra belongs to me.
And, along with the main rag came two smaller sister publications, a lucrative website, various proprietary advertising software, and a few other bells and whistles even I haven’t gone over entirely.
Along with the purchase, I made a promise. The days of printing smut and humiliating people were done. You should’ve seen the gift baskets every millionaire and celebrity in the tri-state area sent me after I made that announcement.
My company’s stock soared when news of the acquisition got out, which, in turn, has put me in a position to tie up one last loose end.
“Jare! Bro!” I declare as Jared Barron appears at the door of the conference room. He hesitates, but Gerald ushers him inside.
Jared looks like a dog that just got caught peeing inside the house.
“Hello, Roger,” he says solemnly without making eye contact with me. “Hello, everyone,” he intones to the board.
“C’mon, man,” I say jocularly, “have a seat.”
I pull the empty office chair beside me out from the table. Jared slinks into it, trying to wheel as far from me as possible. I grab the armrest and wheel him right back next to me. “Where ya goin’, bud? We’re pals, aren’t we?”
I throw my arm around his shoulders. I feel him tense, and it makes me giddy. To his credit, he doesn’t flinch outright.
His eyes flick to the packets in front of my board members.
“Oh!” I say, “did you hear I bought a magazine? I know... even I’m. like, what?”
I laugh, then reach under the table and pull something from my briefcase. “Here, Jared. Because you’re a special friend, you get an advance copy of our first issue coming out tomorrow!” I hold up the cover. The picture accompanying the front-page headline shows three chastened faces I know Jared recognizes.
“Hey, Jare, bro? Aren’t these guys your former lawyers? Says here they got busted for fraud. Aw, bad luck, bro.”
With a thwack, I slap the paper down in front of him. Jared stares at it, looking like he’s about to be sick.
This is even more fun than I thought it would be.
Jared doesn’t say anything for a while. I let the silence drag on. I could watch him wallow in self-pity all day long. Eventually, when I feel my board getting antsy, I whisper to Jared. “So… what’re you doing here, bud?”
“You know why I’m here,” he responds through gritted teeth.
“Do I?” I look over at Gerald. “Gerald? Do I know why Jare’ here, is here?”
“I think you do,” Gerald says with a smirk, enjoying the game as well.
“Lou?” I ask. “Do you know what he’s doing here?”
Before Lou can keep the ball in the air, Mr. Whiny-kins goes and spoils everything. “Oh for God’s sake, Roger,” he declares, “he’s here about 755!”
Nevertheless, I try to keep the fun going by feigning shock. I give a dramatic gasp and then turn to Jared. “Is that true, Jare-bro? Is 755 still on the market?” I glance at my tabloid. “Oh, was that the building your lawyers were doing shady things with, and now no one’ll touch it? Dude... Another tough break.”
“Oh, fuck you, Roger,” Jared finally snaps.
“Ah-ah, young man,” comes a rebuking voice from down the table. It’s Ellen, wagging a finger at Jared. “We don’t use that kind of language in these meetings.” Ellen stares Jared down a moment, then her eyes flit to me. Good? they ask.
Good, I tell her with a sly wink.
To Jared, I give a shrug. “I’ll be honest, man, I’m not even sure I’m really interested in 755 anymore.” I watch Jared’s eyes go wide. God, this is fun. “I mean, the way things are going for me, it feels like we could do a deal on just about any building in Manhattan. Isn’t that right, Lou?”
“That’s right, Roger,” Lou agrees. “But Mr. Barron has come all the way to see us, maybe you should show him your proposal for 755. Since he’s here already.”
“Oh, all right. Since he’s here.” I hop out of my seat. “OK, Gerald, do you have the details of my proposal?”
“I do,” Gerald says magnanimously. He opens his briefcase and pulls out a legal-sized manila folder jammed with papers. Gerald fishes inside the folder, then removes a piece of paper the size of a post-it note. He gives it to me.
I put it down in front of Jared. “What the f–” he stops himself, aware of Ellen’s warning stare. He starts again, “What is this?”
“That’s my proposal.”
“It’s blank.”
I stare at it. Oops. “Flip it over,” I tell him.
Jared flips it over.
He reads the number I had Gerald write down. As far as real estate in mid-town Manhattan goes, it’s a small number. Miniscule. Under the number, in Gerald’s precise, tight handwriting, is written:
No terms. No conditions.
Under that, in my chicken-scratch, it says:
Also, go away. I never want to see you involved in NYC real estate again.
I let Jared take all that in, his face pale. Finally, I ask, “All that sit OK with you, Jare’? Bro?”
He can’t even speak. His situation is such that he’s in no position to negotiate. He knows it. I know it.
Jared just nods. Done deal.
I clap my hands once, like a dealer finishing up his stint at the blackjack table. “Lou, Gerald, my dear board, I’ll leave the final piece of all this to you. See ya, Jare’.”
Slapping Jared on the shoulder, I again enjoy feeling him flinch.
The second I get back to my office, I’m on my cell.
“Hi, sweetie,” Natalie says when she answers. I never thought I’d enjoy being called a pet name like ‘sweetie’. But then, I never thought I’d have a woman like Natalie in my life, either.
“Hello, gorgeous,” I say back, grinning like an idiot. Still. Even after a year with her.
“How’d everything go at the meeting?” she asks.
“What do you call it when you not only make your business a ton of money, but also get to rub shit in the face of someone you loathe?”
“A good day at the office?” she offers.
“Then I’m having that,” I say.
“So happy for you, sweetie,” she tells me. I can hear lots of noise and movement
in the background. That’s par for the course these days when talking to Natalie during business hours.
“You on the move?” I ask.
“Always,” she tells me, just a little breathless. “Hang on.” I hear the muffled sounds of her giving instructions to someone. She comes back on the phone. “Sorry about that. I’m in and out of meetings all day, and during the thirty seconds it takes me to go from one office to another, everyone tries to get a piece of me.”
“Mmm, I’d like a piece of you,” I purr.
“You get to have all of me,” she whispers sexily. It’s immediately followed by a quick, “Gotta go! Who’s picking up dinner tonight, me or you?”
“You.”
“Shit. OK, then I really gotta go. Bye, sweetie.”
We hang up. I put the phone back in my pocket. I stretch my whole body as I stare out the window at the Manhattan skyline. There was a time when I would look at this view, and the only thing on my mind was what parts of it I could acquire and for how much. The skyline was my life.
Now, I look at it differently. Now, it just seems like the backdrop of my life.
The only bit of Manhattan real estate I really care about anymore is my residence inside the high-end property that is Natalie’s heart.
It’s a lease I plan to keep indefinitely.
Thirty-Nine
Natalie
“Josie, my darling friend, I need your eyes on the floral prints. I don’t know who was in charge of photography, but I think they need to be fired.”
Josie gives me a playful salute and grabs the mockup from my hand. “Don’t forget we’ve got that meeting with the board to discuss your big ideas for the next issue.” Josie flashes me a smile and shrugs, “better late than never, hey, boss lady?”
I give her a playful pat on the cheek, and she swats my hand. Josie’s the only employee who can get away with it and she knows it. But she really is one of my top girls, if not the top, so it feels pretty good to promote my best friend.
I head to reception to arrange the meeting as I pull out my phone to check with catering. Things are going well. Very well. Not only did Roger buy my ex-husband’s shitty publishing house, he bought out Chic as well.
While I might have been inclined to take back my old job from that bitch Gabby Green, I wanted to take what was rightfully mine. So, I’m not just the reinstated supervising editor, I’m running the damn thing.
I’ve always been running the damn thing, of course, but now, I’m getting paid for all my hard work. And the board gets to sit quietly and pay attention to my insights for a change, even Mr. Green. Reception’s all caught up, so I head to the office for my things.
Goddamn, it feels good to be back. I grab my purse and swipe on a little lipstick, checking my appearance before I head out. My engagement ring and wedding band shine through their reflection in the mirror, and I smile. I can’t wait to get home to Roger.
I hum to myself as I head to the lobby. Just as the doors open, I catch sight of that lazy, god-awful cleaning lady.
“Gabby, if you can’t stay off your phone long enough to do your job, I’m afraid it’ll have to be confiscated. Not that I’m not impressed by your ability to sit inside your cart, but I know full well the upstairs floor has yet to be cleaned.”
Gabby gives me a snide look as she pockets her phone, but inevitably lowers her head and starts to push her cart toward the elevator. “I’m on it… boss.” Hey, at least I didn’t fire the bitch. Maybe she’ll learn something, who knows?
I head outside to hail a taxi when a sleek black BMW pulls up to the curb.
“Mrs. Zane?” The driver asks, and I nod to him as I stop closer.
“What’s all this?” I ask as he opens the door with a flourish.
“Your car, ma’am, called by a Mr. Zane.” Ah. That sneaky little devil.
“Thank you,” I smile as he helps me in. Roger’s pulling out all the stops tonight. I’ll make sure he knows just how grateful I am as soon as I get my hands on him.
I’m whisked away to our shared penthouse, as the lights of Manhattan fly past the tinted windows. The car pulls up to the building, and I practically race through the lobby to the elevator. I play with my ring, letting the elevator lights shine on the diamond, sending little rainbows on the walls.
I feel like myself again, or rather, more like myself than ever before. Roger Zane has a great deal to do with it. The elevator dings, and I step out into our floor, racing toward home.
I fling open the door to find Roger waiting for me, wine in hand.
“Welcome home, beautiful —” he starts to say, but I charge him, covering him in kisses.
He kisses me back, grabbing my waist as he blindly feels behind him to set the wine down on the couch. Shame to waste another bottle. I start to tear at his shirt as he pulls off his tie.
“Guess you liked the car —” He laughs into my mouth as I moan, running my fingers over his abdomen. He’s just as fit as ever, and I think it’s a damn shame there’s even a stitch of clothing on him.
He pulls at my jacket and starts to untie the silk bow of my blouse. We can’t undress each other fast enough. Pressing against me, he backs me up into the sliding glass doors, trailing kisses down my neck.
With a tug, I free my blouse, and he drops to his knees to unzip my skirt and pull it down my legs. I reach for my shoes, but he stops me.
“Leave them on.”
“Yes, Mr. Zane,” I smile and he nips my thigh. He slides my panties aside and slips two fingers inside me, making me arch my back against the glass. “Oh, yes.”
He moans as he looks up at me, writhing against the door. He presses his mouth against my folds and starts to lick, flicking his tongue against my clit and sending spasms shaking down my legs. I reach down to stroke his hair as he works, building me up to a frenzy.
I came home specifically to fuck his brains out, but if he wants to let me come first, I’m not gonna stop him. I’ve been thinking about him all day, getting wet at the thought of him. Between that and the sexy car to whisk me home, I was ready to come when I walked through the door.
Within seconds, I orgasm, and he groans as my juices fill his open mouth. “Fuck, you taste so good, baby.” He licks my abdomen as he stands. He pulls down my bra to suck on my nipples, teasing one with his fingertips as he licks the other.
But it’s not enough.
His hands find the clasp of my bra, and he unclips me in one swift motion, before sliding it off my arms. Spinning me around, he presses me against the door, so my tits are squished into the cool glass.
Suddenly, I have an idea. I grab the handle and fling it open, sending us out into the balcony. We have an amazing view of the city up here; all the lights, cars, planes, and people rushing about make for a dazzling display.
“I want you to fuck me from behind,” I whisper in his ear and he groans. “I know you like that.” I bite his earlobe and he inhales sharply. Flipping me around again, he presses me against the bannister and spreads my legs with his hands.
I look behind me as he pulls off his boxers and strokes his massive, hard cock. He grips it in one hand and grabs my ass with the other, sliding inside me. We both gasp as he lets just a few inches slip inside before pulling out.
I whine, and damn near beg for him to come back in. He chuckles before pushing inside me all the way. He lets himself fall against my back as he thrusts. My breasts bounce against the bannister as we look out over Manhattan.
Roger stands upright again and smacks my ass. Something he’s learned I love. I knew we’d find out more about each other. I cry out in pleasure, which drives him crazy. He starts to fuck me harder and I spread my legs for him even further.
Just when I think I’m about to come, he pulls out and spins me toward him, crushing me in a passionate kiss. He pulls me toward the furniture, and I push him down on our wide, cushioned couch.
Flipping around, I grab his dick and lower myself on him as I sit in his lap. We’re both facing the city as
I ride him up and down, grinding my ass into his pelvis. He grips my hips and sinks his teeth into my back.
I cry out again, letting the city hear my screams of pleasure. Yes, let them hear. We own this city, and it feels fucking amazing. Roger picks me up from his lap and flings me to the couch, to mount me.
I swing my leg over the side to give him full access, and he pounds me from the front. We’re both smiling and almost laughing in our joyous fucking, savoring the nighttime air.
There are no cameras this high up unless they’ve got a helicopter. And even now, what would they say? ‘Husband And Wife Fuck on Private Balcony’? So what?
Roger swivels his hips against me in a way that makes me want to marry him all over again. I’m getting close, and I know he won’t be far behind. I push him off me, and send him sprawling against the couch.
His dick looks so wet and inviting, I have to taste him. I slide between his legs and take his balls in my mouth, one at a time. He gasps in pleasure, and I slide my tongue up his shaft, kissing the tip before I take him into my mouth.
“Fuck, Natalie,” he warns, and I know if I stay here too long, he won’t last. “I wanna come inside you.” I slip him out of my mouth and suck the tip, teasing him.
“I had to taste you —”
Roger almost growls as he reaches for me, kissing me roughly as he positions me on top of him. I grind my hips into him as he squeezes my ass, letting his other hand trail up my body to my breasts.
“God, you look amazing.” He moans as stares up at me. I lean down to kiss him and tighten my muscles around his dick. He groans as I raise myself a few inches off his pelvis, only to slam my pussy down on him again.
I keep up my rhythm, sliding him in and out. He reaches between us and starts to circle my clit. The pleasure is so intense, I arch my back and moan to the night sky.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop.” He groans as I pick up my pace.
“Roger, fuck, Roger!” I scream as I come, grinding my hips into him as he cries out, exploding inside me. We lay there for a while after. Roger runs his fingers up my back and down again, and I shiver in pleasure.