Vanilla On Top

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Vanilla On Top Page 10

by C. J. Ellisson


  “We fully intend to do all the things we outlined, only with Parkerson as a part of Apollo Enterprises.”

  The tension in the room boils for the next ninety minutes while we slowly explain the contents of the folders, page by page. The packets outline the stock we’ve bought, their position with losing sales staff, how the excellent investments their company has made can’t be liquidated in time to meet payroll—especially with two sexual harassment payouts hanging over them—and how the rest of their sales team has been hired away last Friday—by us.

  Heather remains quiet through the entire presentation and resulting heated discussion. I don’t know her well enough to guess what is roiling beneath the surface, but I’m curious why she’s refused to speak up thus far.

  “Harvey,” Parkerson’s CEO, Oliver Sayers, begins, “How is it you don’t know all of our major investments are high-yield, long-term, and not easily transferrable to liquid?”

  Harvey stammers and turns bright red. “I was unaware of our immediate need for cash. When did we lose these accounts?”

  “Loss of our largest clients was detailed in several emails to you over the past two months, explaining we’d need accessible funds in the accounts ASAP.”

  Heather’s eyes widen and look away. I’m betting she didn’t get a CC on those emails. I have a sneaking suspicion I know who made all the excellent long-term investments for the company, and who also wasn’t checking internal emails on recent company problems.

  “What about our line of credit?” Harvey asks. “It’s for situations just like this.” He looks more alert than I’ve seen him so far. His glance darts to Heather and then his face crumbles. “Oh…yes, that’s right.”

  “What?” Oliver asks.

  Harvey runs a hand over his aging face. “We had an issue with the line of credit a few weeks ago.”

  Anger fills Oliver’s expression as his skin darkens to a deep red. “And that would be?”

  “Er…um…,” Harvey stammers. He looks to Heather imploringly.

  The young woman straightens her spine and speaks into the ensuing awkward silence. “We needed to send updated income reports to the bank or they were going to suspend the line.”

  The full weight of Oliver’s attention bears down on Heather. “And why didn’t we get these reports to them?”

  “They were prepared and sent for approval.” Silence fills the room as Heather’s statement and its implications sink in with the Parkerson men.

  “Ms. Pierce, isn’t it?” I ask in the oppressive silence.

  Heather’s dark brown gaze snaps up to mine, anger and fear shining in her eyes. “Yes.”

  My skin prickles at the sound of her controlled voice, the beginnings of desire stirring me. “You’ve been very quiet through this meeting.”

  One elegant brow creeps up as she answers, “And your point, Mr. Carmine?”

  “Is it because the meeting is mostly all men?” I goad her, knowing if she was holding a knife, she’d probably stick it in me right now. Why does she hide her knowledge and experience from her executives? Why is she taking this submissive role with these stuffed shirts?

  Her face sets into a still mask and one corner of her mouth tilts up in a sardonic expression. “No.”

  My cock stiffens. I love hearing the strength in her voice. I wonder how long she’s had to suffer intimidating assholes at work who might feel threatened by her. Time to pull the drapes off this fiasco. “How long have you been doing Harvey’s job with only limited facts?”

  Harvey whips around to face her and she averts her stare to the door. The tension in the room radiates as we wait for her answer. She shakes her head once, not responding.

  Oliver speaks up, “I’d like to hear the answer on this one, Heather.”

  Her voice sounds strained. “Over three years.”

  Oliver checks his watch and stands. “We need to privately discuss everything that’s been laid out. It’s getting late. How about we adjourn until a later date?” He looks meaningfully at Harvey. “It’ll give us some time to get a handle on where we are financially and what we need to do for the good of our company.” Oliver’s voice barks across the table. “Heather! I want you in my office at nine tomorrow.”

  She nods and meets the older man’s penetrating glare. My heart races while I watch Oliver and the other men file out. My team leaves after them but I stay seated, Marcus raising his eyebrows at me on his way. Heather remains, her eyes snapping fire.

  “I’ll meet you later,” I say to Marcus. My raging erection pulses inside my pants, imploring me to get out of my chair and approach the woman of my desires—despite the inappropriate timing.

  I wait for the door to whoosh shut before rising from my seat. “Heath—”

  “How dare you!” Her body vibrates with indignation and she’s as angry as an enraged bear protecting her young. “Were you with me just to learn about Parkerson? All the time angling us for a lucrative buyout?”

  Shock courses through me, but does little to dampen my arousal. “How could you think such a thing?” I approach her with a hand extended, eager to touch and reassure her that her fears are not the case. “When did I ever ask about your company? Did I pump you for secrets?”

  Some of the anger within her dissipates, but not by much. “No, I guess not.” She jerks away from my touch and stalks to the door.

  Panic grips me at the thought of her leaving still angry with me. I rush to the door to cut off her retreat. “Oh no, you’re not walking out on me again.”

  Surprise fills her face. “Is that what you think I’ll do? Walk out on you?”

  I hadn’t realized it, but in the back of my mind, it must have been hanging there. “Well, you did the night we met, again in the stairwell, and then in the shoe store. Seems like a bad habit you have when things get hot.”

  I’ve taken her off guard enough that she remains still. I grab her shoulders and pull her to me in a kiss. Our lips touch and the world fades away. All I want is this woman. Nothing else matters. She breaks the connection and pulls out of my hold. “Sweet kisses won’t help. I’m majorly pissed at you.”

  My gaze travels lower, to her black blouse, where the tiny peaks of her hardened nipples strain against the material.

  “Really?” I ask, stepping toward her. “Your body says otherwise.” I run a thumb over one stiff nubbin of flesh. “Your body wants more of me.”

  I lean in and kiss her again, this time with more tenderness. Our tongues taste and tease, inciting more heat with each breath.

  “Damn you! I will not be played like this!” She flounces a few feet away, giving me a chance to check out all of her. She’s beautiful in her rage. Her hips sway beneath the flower skirt and her calves are encased in the black leather of the boots I bought. The silver zipper catches the light and glints at me, drawing my eyes up its length, beneath her skirt, to guess where the boots end.

  “Come with me to my office,” I say, desire roughening my voice.

  “Why?” she demands.

  “So we can talk privately. It might be after hours, but this conference room is centrally located in the office.”

  “You sure you’re not just walking me to your office for everyone to think we’re in cahoots? God, what must Mr. Sayers think?”

  “Shh…” I run a hand down her arm and grasp her fingers lightly. “It’s after six. Most people have headed out for the day.”

  She nods, removing her hand from mine, reluctance and annoyance still spilling off her in waves. She stalks to her purse and files, grabbing them and marching around the table. “I’m so freakin’ ang—”

  “I know,” I say, cutting her off. I reach for the small of her back and plant my hand in the dip of her spine, guiding her out the door and down the hall toward my corner office. “And you have every right to be. Let’s talk this out.”

  “Hmmph.” We cross the threshold into my private sanctum and I shut the door, quietly locking it. “How many guys ever want to talk?” she rants, paci
ng the width of my large office. “That’s a load of shit, if I ever heard it.”

  “I like the boots.” My erection swells to greater thickness behind my fly, belying my words. I don’t simply like those boots on her. I love them. I want nothing more than to see both of her toned legs wrapped around my waist, encased in those boots.

  She whirls around and points an accusatory finger my way. “Don’t try and distract me, Tony!”

  I hold up my hands in surrender as I ease closer to her. “Meant no harm. Just stating the simple facts.”

  She ignores me and waves her arms around. “So, is this what you do? You crush smaller companies and swallow them into the Apollo Enterprise fold?” I wince and she continues. “I’ve heard about you for years! You’re the playboy executive Anthony Carmine who jet sets around the world, increasing Nikko Apostolopolous’s power, while wining and dining every single woman in Manhattan!”

  Ouch, that last part stung. I try to lighten the mood. “So, I take it you read the tabloids?” I smile. “Shouldn’t believe that garbage. I did not seduce the former president’s daughter.”

  Heather blushes and turns away. “I don’t know what the hell to believe. But I can tell you I’m freakin’ mad.”

  I pull her resisting body into my arms, turn her to face me and plant a kiss on her stiff cheek. “I’m not that man. I’m the man right in front of you.” I circle my hips so she can feel my arousal in her midsection. “And I want you.” I lean down and nibble the base of her neck. “I might have been a playboy in the past, but not anymore.”

  She draws back and stares at my face. “Really? After that stunt you just pulled? I’m not so sure.”

  My eyebrows shoot up. “What stunt?” I try to pull her closer again, but she’s still stiff with rage.

  “You lead my boss to slaughter—in a corporate meeting! Highly unprofessional.”

  My own anger simmers to the surface. “Your boss is a worthless drunk. Why would you let the others think he was the one responsible all these years? Why not stand up and take the credit you deserve?”

  “He’s a good man. He just has a problem.” She throws her hands up in frustration and breaks free of my arms, pacing in agitation. “You don’t understand! At work, I’m not like I am with you. They don’t see me….”

  Understanding dawns. “They don’t see you for who you really are, do they?”

  She clams up and turns to the wall of windows. She shakes her head once and wraps her arms over her chest. “No. You don’t see me as I really am.”

  Passion fights for its rightful place within her; I see it in the tight hold she has on her emotions, denying who she really is.

  I quietly walk toward Heather. “Bullshit.”

  She whips around, her eyes glazed with unshed emotion. “What?”

  “You have your personal reasons for protecting Harvey, I get that. I don’t agree, but I get it. My father was a drunk—so, I’m a little biased when it comes to alcoholics.” I run a hand through my hair, uncomfortable with what I’ve revealed, but unable to take it back. I reach for her again and this time she doesn’t bolt, allowing my hands to rest on her forearms.

  She looks like she’s about to speak. Her features soften with compassion. I rush to continue, hoping to stem whatever she wants to say with that look of pity in her eyes. “I know the woman you’ve shown me the past week and I like her a lot. She wouldn’t take a backseat to those corporate asshats. Especially when it was her choices that made Parkerson worthy of acquiring.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Confusion disrupts the anger.

  “We aren’t just buying Parkerson because we want a better in-house advertising firm. It’s because you made investment decisions and bought stock in other companies we find even more valuable.”

  She shakes her head, disgust showing on her face. “So, in essence, I’ve helped you buy other companies, too?”

  I shrug, unwilling to defend what I do. I make an honest living, never stealing or blackmailing those we’re set on acquiring. We watch and wait, timing our takeover accordingly. “Sometimes, we really do invest instead of buying out, depending on the situation.”

  “How can you live with yourself?” Her anger flares again, which appeals more than her self-doubt and pity. “You ruin the dreams of the people who worked hard to build the company.”

  “It’s a job. One I’m good at.”

  The look on her face changes, becoming calculating. Not a trace of her earlier compassion remains. In the span of five seconds, Heather’s entire demeanor alters. She’s flipped a switch—standing straighter with a look of supreme confidence about her. “Oh, you’re not good. You know what you are?” She leans toward me with a devilish glint in her eye. “You’re very, very bad.”

  I smile, glancing down the front of my tented pants. “I might agree with you. Only a bad person gets turned on when they witness an attractive woman getting angry.”

  “Take off your coat.” Heather’s voice sounds firm, the same tone she used with me in her apartment. I comply, tossing my coat on a nearby chair. “Shirt, next. Even the undershirt.” A devilish smirk curves her lips. “Oh, but leave on your tie.”

  I follow her instructions, my breath rushing in and out fast. My knotted tie dangles down my chest, tickling my skin. I raise one eyebrow, waiting for her next order. What the hell is she going to do? Do I care?

  She steps close and runs one hand across my chest, grabbing the tie with the other. “Yum.” Her tongue moistens her top lip. “Your nipples pucker nicely in the air conditioning.” A sigh escapes me as she tugs the tie once, then releases it to fondle an aroused peak. “What am I going to do with you, you bad boy?”

  I’m unsure if I should answer. All I can say is things are going better than they were five minutes ago, and I don’t want to ruin it by giving a wrong answer. She steps back, releasing my nipple after she draws it painfully from my chest.

  “Undo your pants and push them to your knees.” I hesitate and she barks, “Do it!”

  I open my belt and unzip my pants. I slide the material over my hips and the trousers bag near my calves. My cock juts out, tenting my boxer briefs.

  “Turn around and put your palms on the desk.”

  I settle my hands flat on the wood surface, a smile creasing my face as I realize what she’s up to. She intends to spank me. I’ve mixed feelings on this, but I’m willing to let the scene play out. I look over my shoulder to see Heather reach inside the big leather bag she brought, withdrawing a small shopping bag.

  “Look down at the desk.” I avert my eyes, curious about what she’s planned. I hear a rustle of plastic and then a rush of air before something solid and firm lands on my ass. Thwack!

  “Hey!” I whip around and see a flushed-face Heather, drawing back for a second strike with a ping-pong paddle.

  “Shush!” Heather’s dwindling anger comes through in her unyielding tone. “Eyes down.”

  The hard, wooden paddle sails through the air and lands on my left buttock. The sting of the smack sends a chorus of sensation to the area. The skin feels tingly and lit up, like blood rushing to redden the flesh.

  Her first tap was harder than the second, but if I’m honest, none of them are really painful. She’s not hitting me hard enough to do damage, but enough to get my attention and sear my flesh.

  “Push your underwear to your thighs. I want to see that ass.”

  I do as she asks, glad I had the foresight to lock the door. The cool air of the office space whispers across my heated flesh. My full prick bobs, pointing toward the desk.

  “Very nice.” Heather’s hand smoothes over the left, and then right cheek of my ass. “The gym agrees with you.” She steps to the side while caressing me, leaning slightly to examine my cock. I feel exposed and on display…I like it.

  “Your cock looks like you’re enjoying this, Tony.”

  I nod, not wanting to break the spell she’s carefully weaving. The paddle sings through the air and lands on m
y left cheek, drawing a slight sting. “Too much?” she asks.

  I shake my head, surprised she asked. “I’m good.”

  “Oh no, Tony. You are very, very bad.” She lightly brushes the rubber-coated wood on my other cheek, teasing the sensitive flesh. “And I’m going to punish you for it.”

  I smile, loving the power and confidence in her voice. “Yes, ma’am.” My cock jerks on its own as the sexy phrase leaves my lips.

  Whack! Another sharp blow lands on my bottom. Her soft hand immediately soothes where she smacked, tantalizing the tender flesh even more.

  “Jerk yourself, Tony.”

  I brace my weight on my left arm and reach my right hand to wrap around my shaft. The paddle taps lightly on each cheek, back and forth, over and over, while I stroke up and down. The heated skin of my ass joins with the pleasure centered in my erection, enhancing the experience.

  The paddle sails through the air again and the hardest smack yet lands on my left cheek. I wince slightly, but continue to fist myself, unable to deny I’m enjoying what she’s doing to me.

  “How much is Apollo offering to buy Parkerson for?”

  “W—what?”

  Whack! She hits the same cheek again, harder than the last slap, drawing a long burn from the area. One cool hand rubs the hot flesh. “Pump slower, Tony. You can’t come unless I say.” I nod. She leans forward and whispers in my ear. “Answer me if you don’t want to feel the paddle again.”

  It’s a double-edged request. I want to feel the paddle again, but not as hard as last time. “Forty-five million.”

  “Not bad.” She taps my ass lightly with the wood, teasing the scorching skin. “But it should be higher.”

  “What?”

  The paddle slams down on my right cheek, hard, with a stinging bite. The edge of pleasure and pain combines as I caress myself. “You heard me,” she says.

  “Are we really going to negotiate while my pants are around my ankles?”

  The sound of Heather’s moaning draws my head around. She’s got one finger in her mouth, sucking on it. Damn, she looks hot. She pulls out her dripping digit. “Face the desk, Tony.” One wet finger probes between my ass cheeks, searching for my tight pucker. “Can you think of a better time to talk money with a man?”

 

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