I exhaled as a gentle morning breeze drifted into our room, and I realized that I’d never know the answer to my question. Somehow, by magic or by might, I’d gotten everything I ever wanted, and probably should just stop questioning how I got this lucky in case a leprechaun or something decided to take it all away. A man who’d done the things I had, seen the things I’d seen, didn’t deserve to be as fucking happy as I was now. And the reason for my happiness, my everything, slumbered quietly next to me.
I watched Kelly as she slept, the white sheet half covering her body. She stirred and wrinkled her nose. She was so damn gorgeous. And she was my bunny to take care of for the rest of my life.
Except on a deeper level, she was really the one who knew how to take care of me. She did it in ways I still couldn’t understand, or fully articulate. Mentally, I finally had a clear head, and as co-CEO’s of Chicago, Kelly and I were going to change some fucking things about the city for the next generation. We would bring peace and keep it. There would be no more summers of funerals, grieving widows, and fatherless children.
Now, however, wasn’t the time to plan anything. It was time to enjoy our damn honeymoon.
The morning sun had barely crept into our room, but the pristine light reflected off the expansive ocean water just outside our door. Despite the beautiful scenery, nothing competed with Kel. The way the light hit her red hair made some of the strands seem to sparkle as if they could catch on fire at any moment.
Thoughts of fire made me think of how our relationship had begun. We were born in blood and fire. And now our blood would be one when we had kids.
Her chest rose and fell delicately, almost daintily. I leaned over her body and inhaled greedily through my nose. Her aura was fuel to me, her scent my motivation.
Goddamn, how I wanted to put a baby in her. I knew we weren't ready just yet--she’d said as much--but I wanted one badly with her. I was willing to wait as long as she needed as she got her acting career up and running. She'd started a small indie production company in Chicago that focused on telling stories of true violence, drugs, and drama in the area, and it had begun gaining popularity quickly. I wasn't surprised. I'd always known Kel was a star. Hell, I couldn't stop myself from continuing to stare at her as she slept in this very fucking moment.
Even though it had been more than two years since our relationship started, I was still enamored with her. I knew every curve of her body and every twist of her hair with both my eyes and my hands. I knew what she liked in bed. I could play the recording in my head of how she would moan softly as I teased her wetness with just the hard tip of my cock. And how she'd scream and writhe and beg when I plunged all the way into her. Deeper, she’d moan. Deeper. Right there, Vince, right there.
I loved exploring her--getting to know her every movement was my obsession. Before we made love my soul was black. She was the well I went back to for the goodness, the purity of the world. I needed her like I needed the water I drank every day to stay alive. Maybe more.
I ran a hand down her frame, peeling back the sheet to reveal her totally naked body. Kelly LaRosa was fucking mine, and I was the luckiest man on earth. Kelly fucking LaRosa. I loved saying that.
There was a knock on the door, soft enough that we wouldn’t be totally disturbed but firm enough to let us know something needed tending to. Sal was watching the outside of the place, and he’d personally vet anyone who tried to enter or knock. I was happy to have him back, healthy, and in action.
I tossed on some shorts and opened the door to find a huge fruit basket on the ground. The note attached to it was from none other than Connor fucking McGrath. I read it.
“Vince and Kelly,
As much as I try to hate your husband, it’s hard to hate a man who treats my cousin so damn well. Still, this doesn’t mean I like you. It just means I don’t hate you. Got it? Oh yeah, and enjoy this damn fruit.
-Connor and Crystal”
Well, McGrath had even given us a damn wedding present. I had a suspicion that my former style consultant Crystal had something to do with the choice to leave us a fruit basket. It was funny mine and Kelly’s very real relationship was starting to repair the fissures between the Italians and the Irish.
Now if only I could get Diego out of Chicago. But that was another matter entirely.
I hauled the fruit basket into our apartment. It was a healthy mix of apples, oranges, a grapefruit, some tropical fruits I didn’t recognize, and a big pineapple.
I’d been waiting for this. The area we were in was known for having the sweetest, ripest pineapple in the Caribbean.
Hauling the pineapple with me, I grabbed the machete and a bowl laying across the table in the corner, and walked out the pier attached to our room. I’d always found pineapple to be perhaps the strangest of all the fruits nature had to offer; spiky on the outside, downright intimidating to the rest of the world at first look. Yet it was tasty and juicy as all hell on the inside. I chopped it up, skimming the prickly exterior, ate one of the chunks, tossed the rest in a bowl, and headed back inside.
I licked the sweet juice off my fingers. The tasted reminded me of something I ate a lot. Or more like someone. I grabbed a can of whipped cream from the full-sized fridge and set both the bowl of fruit and the can on the nightstand next to our bed.
As peacefully as she slept, I couldn't stare at Kelly any more without taking action, my cock was throbbing so hard. I smirked, a devilish idea floating through my head. One that she'd love. I slipped off my shorts and got on the bed, totally naked. I kneeled on the bed and I brought my lips to her thigh and dragged my tongue over luscious legs, to her soft stomach, and almost made it to her pink nipples before she stirred from my motion in the bed.
"Mmm Vince. How are you awake already?"
"Good morning, Mrs. LaRosa,” I said, cherishing the first time I’d ever said those words.
I was naked, and my cock and balls hung low, throbbing between my legs. I ran my knuckles along her chest and up to her chin. Finally, she opened her eyes and blinked a few times. She gasped when she saw me.
“Good morning yourself. Damn. I sometimes forget how big you are.”
She reached out a hand and grabbed my dick, wrapping her fingers around it. I moaned, a rumble mixed with my low morning voice. “Wait,” I grumbled coarsely.
I grabbed the can of whipped cream and a chunk of pineapple from the bowl.
“What are you doing?” she giggled.
“Having some fun with my wife.” She laid back, her body totally relaxed in my presence. I loved that she trusted me while waiting for me to do whatever fucked up shit I was thinking about doing. I didn’t even know where I got this idea, but the idea of licking something so tasty off of Kel’s body made me throb.
I placed the pineapple chunk between her tits and covered her nipples with whipped cream. “Don’t move, Bunny.”
I put a little more on the inner thighs of her spread legs just so I could lick it off.
“Vince, how do you come up with this stuff?” she smiled.
“Damned if I fucking know. I just want an excuse to lick your skin. Slowly.”
“You don’t need an excuse. You can lick whatever you want, whenever you want.”
“Fuck, Kel.” I loved that she gave me the right to own her pleasure.
I ran my tongue along her legs, first the right and then the left. I licked around the trail of whipped cream I’d left before finally licking it.
“Oh,” she moaned. “You just gave me goosebumps.”
I grinned. Something about the innocent way she reacted made me need to say something. “I love you so fucking much, Kelly LaRosa. You have no fucking clue.”
“I love you too.”
I worked my tongue up her body, teasing around her pussy but not licking her clit. She was wet; that was obvious. But I wanted to get her especially worked up this morning.
I circled my tongue on each of her breasts before opening my mouth around her nipple and cleaning the cream
off her. I let my teeth linger just a few seconds in her nipples, just enough that she let out a purr.
I felt a hand on my head and I flashed my eyes at hers. “So. Fucking. Gorgeous. I can’t believe I get to suck on these tits for the rest of my life.”
Before she could respond, I scooped the pineapple with my teeth and brought my mouth to hers. Her lips wrapped around the chunk of fruit and we both bit down at the same time, our mouths touching.
The taste of the sweet fruit burst in our mouths. After we had kissed for few more minutes, she put her palm on my ab muscles and pushed me onto my back.
She sat up, then got onto her hands and knees. Her tongue licked along the sides of my cock.
“And I can’t believe I get to lick this big thick cock for the rest of mine.”
She grabbed a piece of pineapple from the bowl and rubbed it on the shaft of my cock where she’d just licked. “Where do you get these fucked up ideas Vince, chopping up pineapples in the morning. I bet you used your machete too, you love that thing.”
“Told you I brought it for a reason. And trust me Bunny,” I whispered. “There’s a lot more fucked up shit where that came from.” Good thing we’ve got years and years of sexual exploration to work through that sexual bucket list of ours.
She licked the pineapple’s juices slowly from my shaft, then kissed what seemed like every square inch of my cock. It felt so fucking good.
When she took my whole cock in her mouth she caught me totally off guard and I moaned. “Oh my Lord how do you do that,” I managed to grunt. She bobbed up and down, spreading my precum over my shaft and lubing me up, owning my pleasure.
She took my cock out of her mouth and spoke.
"Vince," she whispered, cock in hand. "I want you to fuck me slowly. Please."
I smiled broadly because, as devilish as we’d been, as hard as I’d fucked her and as dirty as we could be together, that was exactly what I wanted right now, too. Slow and sensual so I could enjoy every vibration that my little angel bunny made beneath me.
I took a tuft of hair in my hand. "Bunny. Get on your back."
She did as I said, rapidly swinging onto her back. She spread her legs wide.
I teased her with the tip of my cock. She was wet as hell.
"Baby, I'm going to go slow. Is that what you want?" I purred into her ear.
"Yes. Just like that."
I pushed into her slit, inch by inch, feeling the inside of her as she swallowed me whole. She tensed her pussy around me, gripping me.
“I love you, Vince.” She pulled on my neck and I let myself fall on top of her.
“I fucking love you too, Kelly. God dammit I love you so much it’s crazy.”
I hovered my face inches from hers so I could watch every move she made as I thrust into her. She moaned as I fucked her gently, expanding her with my slow thrusts. As slow as we went, her nails dug hard into the top of my back--her tell that she was on the verge of coming. She cried out in a high-pitched noise and I couldn’t help it--I increased my pace and fucked her hard, became feral as she screamed. Her pussy molded around my cock, she was made for me.
I came hard, spurts of cum shooting into Kelly while my spine tingled. I kissed her as I thrust deep inside her.
When it was all over, I rest my head on the pillow without taking my body off of hers. “You are amazing, Kelly MacNamara.”
She giggled, a hint of deviousness present in her tone. “What’s so funny?” I inquired.
“Promise you won’t be mad.”
I swallowed. What the fuck?
Devilish Kel was back.
“I won’t. Now tell me.” How long could I stay mad, no matter what it was?
She nibbled on my ear before she whispered. “I stopped taking the pill. Are you ready to have Vince Jr.?”
THE END
Boss with Benefits - Preface
Sebastian’s Story:
What happens when you catch your employee writing a dirty book on company time?
Some bosses might fire her. But I’ve got a better idea.
We’re going to act out the scenes from her book. I mean, I inspired half of them anyway.
I hope she’s ready for her Boss with Benefits.
Soundtrack to Boss with Benefits
Just Friends - G-Eazy
Tequila Makes her Clothes Fall Off - Joe Nichols
Meant to be - Bebe Rexha and Florida Georgia Line
Motivation - Kelly Rowland and Lil Wayne
Hypnotize - Notorious B.I.G.
Mo Money Mo Problems - Notorious B.I.G. ft P. Diddy & Mase
Monster - Kanye West
Give Me Some of That - Thomas Rhett
1
Sebastian
Some sons of bitches just don’t know how to close a deal.
I’m not one of them.
I built Blackwell Industries from the ground up. They used to call me “The Finisher” as a matter of fact.
Even today, I’m in the middle of finishing someone else’s business.
“Who the hell is holding up the Blackwell Ranch Proposal?” I bark loudly into my speakerphone.
“Someone named Brett Blue is the problem. Won’t sell. Dad’s land, that kind of thing.”
I fume as I stare out the window of Blackwell’s tallest building. When the first of the Blackwell linage arrived to this town years ago, their industry of choice was well-digging.
My business does everything.
“Completing the land sale is the key to this whole damn operation, John!”
“I know,” he says nervously. “I just didn’t close. I even offered the price you said.”
“A half million. You offered the Blue family a half mil and they said no?”
“Didn’t even flinch at the price,” John answers.
“The Blue Estate isn’t even worth two hundred thousand anymore.”
“Brett Blue said, and I quote, ‘That’s not even in the ballpark of what I’ll accept from Blackwell Industries, you rich pig.’ End quote.”
I furrow my brow. Brett Blue. Where do I remember that name from? I’ve met thousands of people over the years in the Blackwell area. Done business with hundreds of them. Didn’t I know a Blue from back in the day? I rack my brain, but draw a blank.
“So this Brett Blue literally called me a ‘pig?’” I growl, running my thumb and forefinger along my forehead.
“Spot on,” he says, and I hear the sound of a car door slamming.
I rake a hand through my hair. Why does that name sound so damn familiar?
“Look John, we need this house to close or else the entire development for Blackwell Ranch is falling straight to shit. Do you understand that?” There’s venom in my voice. John knows he failed. But he’s my number one sales closer. If he couldn’t get the job done, there’s only one other option.
“Shit, you’re right. I’ll go back in and see what I can do.”
“No, don’t bother,” I breathe, taking him off speaker. “I’ll get it done myself.”
“But Sebastian, I can handle-”
“If you could handle this, you would be driving back here with the deed in your hands to the Blue property. Just…meet me there. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“It’s an hour away,” John quips back.
“I know.”
John’s a nice guy. A good guy. He doesn’t get that speed limits don’t apply to me.
“Well alright then,” is all he says.
I slam down the phone, grab my keys and sunglasses, and basically sprint out the door.
“Where to, Sir?” my secretary Fiona asks me as I rush out, tipping her head up toward me.
“Cancel all my appointments today. Something urgent came up and I need to take care of it.”
“Of course, Sir.”
Fiona smiles, flashing her bright white teeth at me as I head to the elevator and press the button to the parking garage.
I regard my reflection for a moment in the stainless steel of the el
evator. I’m not going to lie, I’m a handsome dude. And I don’t say that in a cocky way.
Well, actually, fuck that. I do say it in a cocky way.
My dad was a blue-collar hero to me—he ran a shop for thirty years before he finally retired to the farm. He didn’t teach me much about the kind of business I run, but he did teach me the value of ironing your shirt and looking like a million bucks every day.
My suits are all custom tailored, like the dark navy blue one I’m wearing today, with a white shirt. The color contrasts nicely with my dark brown eyes.
Ever since I was born in Blackwell, almost thirty years ago, this town has never known what to do with me; they called me a ‘big fish in a small pond.’
Whatever that means. I don’t consider myself a fish, nor do I shoot for small ponds. I aim to be the deadliest shark in the biggest ocean.
And Brett Blue, you just fucked with the Great White shark. This guy has no idea what’s coming for him.
I don’t lose deals. Not my thing.
The elevator hits the parking garage and I stride toward my personal spot, painted black. I turn my key in my Harley, pump the throttle a couple of times, and head out into the ebbing Blackwell summer.
Thirty-five minutes later, I roll up to the Blue Estate and put my motorcycle in park along their gravel driveway. I have to smile a little bit just looking at the place, as it’s so classically homely. One side of the residence is lined with cornstalks as far as the eye can see, and the other side is a grove of apple trees. The main house in the middle is an old, colonial style build; big with two stories, and the house itself is an appropriate color given their family name: blue.
I walk toward John, who leans against his grey Honda Accord.
Even without my suit coat, I’m sweating just the slightest bit in the hot Blackwell summer sun.
“They know we’re here?” I ask John as we shake hands.
Bartender with Benefits Page 46