Show & Sell: A Dark MFMM Romance

by Abby Angel

  "Lydia takes no shit, but she doesn’t even need to be aggressive. It's unique. It's strong. Her fan base responds accordingly, and that's one reason we’re so highly valued."

  "You don't do cam shows yourself, do you?"

  "Are you fucking serious?" My confidence is back.

  "Do you?" I have no clue what Darcy's getting at, but I suddenly feel like doing a show. Right now.

  "As a matter of fact, I do. As I said, I'm a crucial part of the site. You've got nothing without me—or any one of us."

  Darcy nods his head. I can't tell if he's mocking me.

  "I buy it. You've got me. I just need some proof that you do shows."

  "I could show you my space, but then the tour would be over. We need to talk about this first. Seriously." I hold up the paper, which I realize I'm clutching nervously.

  "I want to look at that." Darcy points to the list. He seems dead serious.

  "Great, here. I can make you a copy, even."

  Darcy is already walking out the door before I finish talking.

  "I can read them in your room."

  There's an odd little dance we do as I catch up with Darcy and lead him through the corridor to my space. I make it through the door first, and Darcy just strolls in behind me, acting so damn laid-back it's almost annoying.

  After finally getting inside, Darcy doesn't even look around. He just kind of occupies the space like he knows it well. Showing Darcy around and trying to figure him out is getting old, but I don't really want it to end, either.

  He looks around the room the way you would look around your own bedroom. It's like he's not seeing anything new, he's just looking around absentmindedly while he's really thinking about something else.

  Whatever. If he's losing interest in the tour, I don't have to pay him any attention either.

  Just as I start thinking about how hungry I'm getting, and what I want to eat, I see Darcy has re-joined me on Earth. In fact, he's looking straight at me. And he seems hungry as well. Positively starving.

  Well, okay then. Time to continue the tour. What are you waiting for? Turn the fucking page already.

  Darcy

  I don’t believe in déjà vu. In my opinion, déjà vu is simply a thing weak people claim to experience so that they can feel more spiritual.

  But I have to admit, I feel something along the lines of déjà vu stepping into Lizzie’s room. I’ve never been in the mansion before in my life, but after watching Lizzie’s cam session last night, I honestly feel like I’ve been in this room before.

  It feels familiar, like I’ve masturbated in this room before, and that’s the kind of feeling you can’t just shake.

  “So, this is where I do my cam work,” Lizzie starts. “Basically, I’ll sit in front of my computer, fully dressed to start, and wait to see how many fish bite. Next, I’ll—”

  “I’m aware of how you do your work,” I interject.

  “I take it you watch a lot of cam girls, then?”

  “One in particular.”

  No reaction. I wouldn’t be surprised if Lizzie is the type of girl who’s amazing at poker. Her straight face just leaves you guessing as to what she’s actually thinking.

  But I think she catches the gist of what I just implied. For a split second, I see her eyes widen in surprise.

  “Are you Mr. Big?” she asks.

  Moments like these are the ones I live for. That feeling of utter power over another human being. She now knows I’ve seen every inch of her bare skin. She knows the kind of wealth I’m willing to throw at a simple cam girl. She knows I’m in control.

  “You’re welcome,” I reply.

  “Never would have taken you as a Sex and the City fan.”

  Classic move. She realized I had the upper hand, and now she’s trying to make me question my masculinity. It’s a tactic that might work on a weaker man. One who wasn’t confident he could fuck any girl in a room with just a whisper.

  “You got some real talent there,” I say. “I wouldn’t mind doing more than just watch you undress.”

  If you watch people carefully for a bit, you may notice they have certain tics. Things they do without even realizing it. Some people may bite their fingernails without thinking, while others have to incessantly click on a pen.

  My tic is hitting on beautiful girls. Even though I know I shouldn’t be flirting with her, it comes as second nature. It’s my fingernail-biting. It’s just something I do even if I know I shouldn’t.

  “Well, there’s a lot I’d be willing to let you do to me,” she says.

  “I bet. You seem like the kind of girl who would bend over backwards for her man.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of you taking me to Giorgino’s. They have a $100 lobster special. I hear it goes wonderfully with a $250 bottle of Sassicaia imported straight from Italy. Play your cards right, and I may be willing to let you buy it for me.”

  Lizzie bends over to adjust the webcam on her computer. I get a glorious view of her tight ass peeking out from her jean shorts.

  From my perspective, it seems as though she’s double-checking to make sure the camera isn’t turned on right now. But one’s things certain: she’s turning me on.

  I take a step forward, resisting every impulse to whip my cock out and fuck her right on that desk where she’s undressed for so many anonymous men. She must hear my footsteps because she immediately turns around, almost as if she’s keeping herself from getting into a vulnerable position.

  As much as it irks me to admit it, I still can’t read her right now. My instinct ordinarily would be to grab her by the tits, pull her in close, and stick my tongue down her throat.

  Either she’d be into it and I could get my cock wet in a minute, or she’d push me off. But at least in the latter’s case I’d know. She’s playing it cool, and it’s only making me harder.

  “Why stop at a simple Sassicaia?” I ask. “You play your cards right, I could get you a 2009 Chateau Margaux. As soon as the first drop touches your tongue, you’ll climax.”

  “Leave it to wine to do what most men are incapable of.”

  “Sorry to hear you’ve had unfortunate experiences with other men.” I smirk.

  “I wouldn’t call the experiences unfortunate. Watching them try their hardest not to cum within the first 30 seconds is usually pretty entertaining on its own.”

  “So 30 seconds is the time to beat, then?”

  “The way I work a cock, if you last more than 30 seconds in bed with me, you’re either gay or suffering from erectile dysfunction.”

  I find myself looking forward to what she’ll say next. There’s something about a woman with a sexy mind to go with a hot body.

  In my experience, it’s so hard finding a good woman when you’re rich and powerful. I know that may sound as though I’m ungrateful for being wealthy beyond most people’s wildest dreams, but it’s tough finding a woman who’s entirely genuine.

  A woman who doesn’t play games. A woman who, when she wants to fuck, she makes it abundantly clear. A woman who wants to fuck for the satisfaction itself and not for the prospect of luring a man for his money.

  Some women pull off this charade for a while, but then their true selves are revealed.

  Lizzie doesn’t seem like the type to play games. I hope I’m right.

  I suppose for all I know, Lizzie could be hiding her true intentions. But that’s not what I’m feeling. I feel like this is who she truly is.

  She’s not someone who sugarcoats things to spare your feelings. She’ll grab you by the balls and twist as hard as she can. And you know what? I think she’d enjoy every second of that.

  And I’m starting to think so would I.

  “I always prefer skipping the dinner part of the date. Why waste time with the emotional foreplay when you can get straight to the real thing?”

  “Foreplay sets the tone for the rest of the relationship.”

  I take one step forward and say, “I’m not looking for a relation
ship.”

  Lizzie doesn’t flinch when I step toward her but she doesn’t step forward, either. It’s clear she’s waiting for me to make my true intentions known. She stares me down with those piercing blue eyes.

  I stare right back, but I can’t help but dart my eyes, going back and forth from her pupils to her tits. She smirks. She knows I’m looking.

  I organize my thoughts. There’s one hard and fast rule I play by with all my ventures: never mix business with pleasure. In my experience, it clouds my judgement to do what is sometimes necessary to grow and succeed.

  It’s why I could never open my own escort business. And why I need to beat out Hawk and win this bid.

  However, I suppose I haven’t technically purchased the business yet. What could be the harm in indulging in a little fun right now?

  As of this moment, Lizzie and I are simply two people alone in a room together. And I bet her pussy would cradle my cock like a holster to a gun.

  “I have a better idea.”

  So I grab her by the tits, pull her in close, and stick my tongue down her throat.

  She doesn’t miss a beat. She pulls down her shirt, so her tits are now bare for me to grope. And then her hand shoots down into my pants.

  Lizzie

  Normally, when men grab me by the tits, I have them on the ground with my heel on their throat in about three seconds flat. Sometimes, if I’m feeling frisky, I let them show me what they’ve got just long enough for them to realize that they’re entirely in over their heads.

  Somehow, I don’t think Darcy is the kind of man who can be so easily taken down by a woman half his size. I don’t think I’m about to have him proposing marriage after thirty seconds of dirty grinding, either.

  Darcy is cool. Level headed. Kind of an asshole. Might as well have the word womanizer tattooed on his gorgeous forehead. He’s the kind of guy who takes what he wants, when he wants it. Probably hasn’t ever heard the word no before in his life.

  So, basically, he’s everything I want and exactly what I don’t need right now.

  Darcy has big hands made for manhandling. Luckily, in the titty department I’m way more than a handful.

  He knows exactly how hard to squeeze to put my body in that hurts so good territory. Once I’m there, I can’t stop thinking about where else I want him to squeeze.

  Nipples.

  I want his sexy, billionaire fingers pinching my nipples.

  Fuck it. He’s been kissing me for less than a second and already it’s not fast enough. Suddenly, I realize exactly how my fans must feel when I’m running a show. Like they’ll do anything, pay whatever price they need to as long as it means more, more, more.

  I shrug the straps of my top down off my shoulders and pull it down, bra and all, without even thinking about it. Screw business. This is desire, plain and simple. With any other man, I would argue that desire is my business, but with Darcy, we’re both misbehaving.

  His tongue thrashes against mine as his rough hands kneed at my breasts. In my line of work, there’s so much looking…I have to rely on my own hands for physical stimulation. It honestly feels so fucking good to be touched for once.

  My pussy totally agrees.

  Darcy and I have gone from flirting around contracts to first base in a matter of seconds, and my panties are already soaked.

  I arch against him, a tiny moan on my lips—but I’m not the kind of woman who’s about to whine and plead like I’m too scared to take what I want.

  Fuck no. I’m hot for him, and I want it. I shove my hand down his pants and grab his big, fat, bad boy billionaire cock.

  “Oh... fuck.” His lips curl against mine, halfway between an O-face and a sneer.

  I squeeze the whole length of him—and that’s a whole lot of length—in my greedy little fist, relishing the feel. This is probably the first time I’ve actually heard him swear in person, I realize. That gets me off way more than it should.

  I’m stroking every ounce of that cool, calm, collected facade out of him every time I move my wrist. Judging by the way he’s pinching my nipples, he’s enjoying it, too.

  “You like that, don’t you?” I purr against his lips as I break away from our kiss.

  “You can’t tell? Not very observant, are you?”

  The back-sass is cute, but he’s out of his league. I remind him of as much with a hard, fast pump of my fist as I kiss him again. He moans so hard against my lips that I can feel the vibrations all up and down my spine.

  That’s right. I’m going to reduce this cocky, sexy man to a whimpering, cum-emptied mess. He might have the upper hand in terms of status and money, but with his big, heavy man meat in my expert hand? He’s no different than any other dick I’ve conquered and claimed.

  That is, until, he bites down on my lower lip and twists the rosy little nubs of my nipples so hard, I nearly come right then and there.

  Oh god. He is Mr. Big.

  Memories of that night just three days ago come whirling at me like a hurricane. I still can’t believe how wet he could make me with nothing more than a few words on a computer screen. I’ve been trying to wrap my head around it ever since, but no dice.

  Guys message me dirty shit all the time, and it doesn’t do anything more for me than stroke my ego. If it was anyone else, I would have assumed I just got off on how much money the pervy bastard was willing to throw at me.

  But that’s not it at all.

  He knows it. I know it.

  It’s not the money.

  It’s him.

  We fucking lose ourselves. I’m lapping at his tongue like an animal, our lips locked in passion. He’s doing something to my nipples with his thumbs that sends throbs of red-hot pleasure all the way down my body, directly to my clit.

  My pussy is already clenching in anticipation as I stroke his cock, eager to swallow that bad boy up and squeeze the cum out of his balls until he’s totally dry—

  “Wait,” I hiss against his lips.

  “Why?” he growls back, kissing me even harder.

  I squeeze his cock a little too hard—or maybe just hard enough—and that gets his attention.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I pull away, listening for footsteps. Voices. Catherine the Great, poking her nose around and wondering wherever our charming possible-future-benefactor might be.

  “The other Babes,” I say. “Catherine. They’ll notice that we’re missing.”

  “Ah,” Darcy says, idly rubbing my nipples between his fingers. It’s all I can do not to moan. “We might get caught.”

  “Exactly,” I say. He keeps rubbing, which is so fucking distracting, I can barely stand it.

  “And I don’t need—oh God, that’s really good—I don’t need the other girls walking in and seeing—”

  “Their ice queen co-worker playing whore to the man who’s about to own their business?”

  “More like seeing me fucking around on our business deal. Might give them the wrong idea.”

  “Oh?” Darcy dips his mouth down to my earlobe. His teeth nip at his as he speaks.

  “And what idea might that be?”

  “That I’m trying to—fuck, that feels amazing—stiff them on this—oh my God, right there—trying to get a better deal for—mmmmmm—myself…”

  “Then I’ll set them straight.”

  Darcy continues to kiss and lick at my ear and neck, and I realize I have to switch tactics. Even the sound his lips make when he kisses me is a fucking eargasm.

  Every time his mouth finds my skin, it makes my argument seem less and less relevant. If I don’t stop this soon, I’m going to lose my resolve altogether.

  “What if Wickham walks in?”

  “He’s welcome to watch. I hear he likes that.”

  I can feel Darcy laugh gently against my neck.

  “From what I hear, he could benefit from some pointers.”

  “And if he decides he wants to have me too?”

  Darcy growls, low and deep. Finally. I’ve tou
ched a nerve.

  “He can’t fucking have you.”

  Fuck, I shouldn’t like that so much, but I totally do.

  “You heard him earlier,” I say. “I bet he’d like to put me in my place.”

  This is the point where I should be taking my hand out of Darcy’s pants. But while my brain is sending the signals, my hand is not cooperating. Like a complete traitor, it strokes Darcy’s cock again instead.

  “Wickham couldn’t even put his own initials in their place in the alphabet.”

  Admittedly, I giggle at that. I shouldn’t have, because now Darcy’s hands aren’t on my breasts anymore—they’re cupping my jaw in his hands.

  “Cut the bullshit, Lizzie. You want this. I want this. There’s something between us that needs to be settled in one way or another. I know you can feel it too. We’re better off sorting it out now, before business complicates matters. Once contracts start rolling in and lines start being signed…” Darcy sighs, looking down at me with the utmost seriousness in his eyes. “I don’t know if we’ll get another chance.”

  “Okay,” I find myself saying. “Just…let me go lock the door.”

  He smiles an awful kind of smile. The kind of smile that can melt a girl’s panties right off of her and make her too ashamed to call her mother for a week after all at once.

  “No,” he says. “Or is Lizzie of the Bennet Babes afraid of a little danger?”

  Oh shit. I know he’s baiting me…but he’s so fucking hot. He’s hard. He’s way too fun to play with, and he’s right.

  We might not get another chance.

  I take the bait.

  “Oh, honey,” I say, smiling up at him daringly. “Danger’s my middle name.”

  He kisses me again, and there’s something triumphant about the way he does it. That’s when I figure it out. He’s self-made because he likes to win, but he likes to work at it, too. With his money, looks, and charms, other girls probably give him whatever he wants the second he asks for it. This is a challenge for him. I’m a challenge for him.

  Fucking good.

  Now I know he’s up for it.