by Amy Brent
Even though I could hear Mark following behind me, probably with that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face, I was frustrated with myself mostly. Why did I feel like I was full of shit myself when I said those things?
Chapter 9
Kathryn
“Hold still!” Sadie ordered as I sneezed.
I leveled my half-lined eyes at the scathing glare of Sadie’s crouched, focused form.
“Sorry, Sad. I’ll just tell my body to stop breathing while I’m at it.”
One corner of Sadie’s lips curled up.
“Suit yourself, but don’t blame me when your eyeliner looks like a blind toddler put it on.”
I sighed, willing my face to be still.
“But let’s be real,” I told her. “Even that blind toddler would be better at applying eyeliner than I am most days.”
Sadie giggled, careful to keep her hands still as she applied the last of my winged cat eyeliner.
“You’re not that bad,” she said, although we both knew I totally was.
Normally, I wasn’t big on makeup, but this past week of dealing with a billionaire had me trying the stuff. While I had managed to adequately apply eye shadow and lip gloss, getting eyeliner down had still eluded me. It seemed I could never get both eyes matching, so one always looked bigger than the other and my face looked Halloween-ish or lopsided.
“Anyway,” Sadie said, putting away the eyeliner and picking out a lip color, “with that dress you chose, this makeup isn’t really going to matter.”
As the red lipstick descended upon my lips, I made myself not smile at the comment. It had taken days of me and Sadie scouring every fancy-dress and secondhand shop to find the perfect dress, but when we had, it had been obvious. The second I had stepped out of the changing room in the clinging black velvet masterpiece, Sadie had let out a low gasp.
“That’s it,” she had proclaimed.
Unconvinced, I’d turned to the full-length mirror outside the change room, and suddenly froze. There was a curvy stranger standing directly ahead of me. Instead of hips that were slightly too big and an unruly bust, everything seemed the perfect size. Her hourglass shape was the kind women got surgery to achieve, while the dress itself exuded elegance and style. The flutter sleeves were girlish, while the tight bottom was 100 percent woman.
Now wearing it, I ran my hands affectionately over the material.
“I’ve always loved velvet.”
“Me too,” Sadie said. “If I’d known, I would have just let you borrow my red velvet bustier crop top.”
We both burst out giggling at that one.
“Careful!” Sadie said seconds too late.
She lifted a gem-embellished mirror up to me.
“What you think? Should I leave it like that?”
This time, I didn’t have to restrain the laughter at the sight of the bright red line slanting up across my cheek.
“He’s going to be ravished by the sight of me,” I said in a husky Marilyn Monroe voice.
“Seriously though,” I said as our laughing died down, “this could be a really important charity gala. I’m going to get to meet a lot of his employees, some of whom may even be helping him.”
“Is your department even certain he committed whatever crime you can’t tell me he might have committed?”
Frowning, I shook my head.
“Apparently the source is pretty reliable,” I said. “Unfortunately, nine times out of ten, these sorts of accusations turn out to be true.”
“Still,” Sadie said softly, starting to pack away her makeup supplies, “are you sure this isn’t the one time out of ten that it’s wrong?”
My gaze followed her careful movements until it flickered up to the dresser mirror and my own pretty yet uncertain reflection.
“Not totally,” I admitted. “Eric Black has certainly proven to be a surprise in many respects. But I did find out some stuff the other day, most importantly that Eric single-handedly manages the finances of his multimillion-dollar company. How common is that? I mean, just that fact itself smacks of wrongdoing.”
“Maybe he’s just a micromanager who doesn’t trust anyone,” Sadie said.
I shrugged.
“I don’t think so. Anyway, thanks so much. Girl, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
Leaning in, Sadie dabbed the last of the red lipstick off my cheek.
“Oh, you’d have just gone in there looking slightly ridiculous,” she said with a gentle smile.
Sadie had been gone only a few minutes when there was a knock at my door.
I sprung up, the pitter-patter of my heart already audible, it seemed. With good reason, too. The handsome man waiting for me at the door was Eric. There were a few drawn-out seconds of silence during which we both took in the other’s well-dressed form with admiration. Eric looked sexy as hell with a definitely custom-tailored black pinstriped suit and pants and bold purple dress shirt underneath.
“You’re going to be the most beautiful woman at the ball,” Eric proclaimed, stepping inside and running his hand over the front of my dress.
His stroke paused at my crotch. Placing my hand on top of his, I moved it away.
“Careful, or we’ll never get to the charity ball.”
“Maybe I don’t want to go anymore,” he said with an easy laugh, although he complied with my request.
On the ride to the charity gala, Eric and I sat on opposite sides of the limo, careful not to be too close to each other. Part of me was disappointed by this, but I understood. Once we got started touching each other, it was hard to stop, and this event was important.
The charity gala was in a new convention center. I had read about it in a newspaper article or two but had never been inside.
As we stepped out of the limo and looked up at the impressive, peaked facade of the structure, excitement flew through me.
“You ready?” Eric asked, proffering his arm for me.
“Are you?” I shot back, taking his arm with a sassy grin.
Inside, it appeared the gala was already well underway.
“I’m generally a stickler for being on time, or even early, but for things like this I don’t like being one of the first to arrive only to wait around awkwardly, talking to the other two people who came early,” Eric said.
I could only nod distractedly. My attention didn’t know where to land. By the doors, there was a set of girls in tuxedo bodysuits handing out little green mint chocolates. At the bar, the pointy bearded bartender had tossed up a cup of what looked to be fiery alcohol. In the center of the lobby, two leotard-dressed dancers covered in magenta sequins were twining around the rotating pole.
Finally, my gaze stopped where it should have, on the other guests. Each one seemed to be an ode to expensive good health with their pricey looking shimmering dresses and fitted tuxedos all around.
“See?” Eric said in a low voice beside me. “I told you you’d be the most beautiful.”
I couldn’t keep a pleased smile from spreading across my face at that. Really, there were beautiful women here by the dozen. There was a towering blonde who looked like she belonged in a Chanel ad waiting at the bar. There was an exotic brunette at the far side of the lobby, her red high heels tapping out a beat I couldn’t hear from where I stood. Even just a few feet away, there was an absolutely breathtaking redhead whose red dress perfectly showed off her shapely legs. Nonetheless, Eric couldn’t take his eyes off me.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
My glance went to the owner of the pushy voice. He was a tall, wide man with big lips and demanding blue eyes. A few steps behind him was a willowy beauty who looked like she was not having the time of her life.
“Of course,” Eric said with an easy smile. “Kathryn, meet Mark, my right-hand man and noted sloth lover.”
As we shook hands, Mark’s gaze travelled over me approvingly.
“Okay, so I can see why Eric’s crazy about you.”
E
ric elbowed him.
“Oops,” Mark said. “I mean, I can see why Eric’s not crazy about you.”
Eric elbowed him again, and this time, Mark elbowed him back, then directed a glare at him.
“Seriously, though, you can’t keep introducing me to people like that, man,” he chastised Eric. “It’s supposed to be a pleasant surprise, one that I slip in after they’ve assumed I’m some meathead obsessed with success.”
“But you are some meathead obsessed with success,” Eric said with a laugh, patting him heartily on the back.
“Yeah, and you’re a greedy playboy,” Mark shot back, laughing himself.
They toasted to this. In one quick gulp, Mark emptied his drink. He threw a glance in the direction of the bar.
“Looks like I need a refill. We’ll see if the bartender has time to make me a drink amid his fire juggling.”
We all laughed at that before Mark and his date left and headed to the bar.
“So, what exactly does Mark do again?” I asked, feigning an innocent interest.
This Mark guy sounded like an interesting character. Maybe part of the way he funded the so-called charity expeditions was through not-entirely-legal means. After all, if Mark was Eric’s right-hand man and they were as close as they claimed, wouldn’t he be in the loop about all this embezzling?
“He’s more of the marketing and update guy,” Eric said, smiling fondly as he watched Mark argue with the juggling bartender. “Customer service I guess you’d call it. He does all the stuff I don’t like to do while I do all the stuff he doesn’t like to do.”
“Like balance the books?” I joked with a wink.
Eric’s smile fell.
“Kathryn,” he said, “I really shouldn’t have told you that the other day. It’s not a common practice, and one I’ve mentioned to enough people to know that it’s frowned upon. I wouldn’t want the press getting ahold of the story.”
I nodded solemnly.
“Got it. I’ll keep it to myself.”
Distracted now, I twirled the straw in the drink Eric had gotten me, though really my mind was buzzing. Was that really the only reason Eric didn’t want people knowing that he personally oversaw the balancing of the books?
“Eric, good to see you here,” a short, portly man declared, shaking Eric’s hand vigorously. Leaning in, his sneering, small-lipped mouth stated, “This is already going better than last time.”
I studied him for a minute. The man made for an interesting character—that was for sure. He was bald and had a profuse moustache, as if all the hair on his head had migrated below his nose.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
The man glanced at me as if noticing me there for the first time.
“Mr. Burroughs,” Eric said, “let me introduce you to my date, Kathryn.”
“My pleasure,” Mr. Burroughs said, bowing his bald head to give my hand a kiss. His bushy moustache tickled my fingers.
“Last year,” he said, leaning in so his words couldn’t be overheard by anyone, “Mr. Black’s employee, Tricia, was so drunk by now that they had to have her taken out.”
I glanced at Eric, whose face had transformed. His eyes were slanted squints of hate while his lips were curved in a jagged sneer.
He took a minute before responding.
“Thankfully, Tricia no longer works for us.”
“Is that so?” Mr. Burroughs asked circumspectly, his beady little eyes roving over Eric’s face.
“It is,” Eric said. He grasped Mr. Burroughs’s hand and shook it vigorously, backing away as he did so. “It’s been a pleasure,” he said as way of goodbye. I followed Eric as he strode into the main room.
“He always was a nosy bastard,” Eric muttered half to himself.
My attention was momentarily taken by the splendor of the room. There was a glory of a chandelier in the center made up of what looked to be at least 100 shining pieces of tiny glass. It glistened differently whichever way you turned your head. Not to mention each crystal-legged table in the room had a different spotlight on it. I tore my attention away to focus on the matter at hand: getting all the intel I could.
“So, about that Tricia woman he mentioned—”
“Don’t want to talk about it,” Eric said brusquely.
Nodding, I sealed my lips. Clearly, now was not the time or the place. Although the tidbit from Mr. Burroughs had peaked my interest. If Eric was guilty of laundering money, what would happen to an employee who stumbled across the truth? Maybe they would feel guilty and try to drown said guilt? Eventually, they’d definitely give themselves away and be summarily fired.
Out of the corner of my eye, I studied Eric’s features for any further clue about the woman, but his face was deliberately impassive.
The rest of the night passed as an outstanding time. It was really fun. Although Eric and I were seated with Mark and his sour-faced yet pretty companion, the food was delicious and the drinks were ever-flowing. At one point, white-bedecked dancers swung from periwinkle draperies dangling from the ceiling. Later, Eric gave a perfectly voiced speech about the merits of giving back to the community that received a standing ovation, all while he donated half of what the entire room combined had contributed to the charity, which helped at-risk youth in New York.
After his speech, he was a different person. Slinging his arm around me, he gave me a series of kisses, starting on one cheek and travelling across my face, over my lips and my other cheek, and finally stopping at my ear.
“What do you say we ditch this and go back to my place?”
His hand tightened on my wrist.
“Am I allowed to say no?” I asked him softly.
With his pointer finger, he tapped my nose.
“You know me too well, Kathryn.”
Chapter 10
Eric
As soon as my front door closed behind me, I pounced on her.
The velvet of her dress was harder to roll off her than I’d first assumed it would be, but I managed it.
After ripping off her bra and panties, I dropped them in the same pile. Then I strode around her, taking in the statuesque perfection of her body.
I leaned in as if I were about to kiss her and instead ordered, “On your knees.”
Her face was slack with desire. I undid my pants and pulled out my dick.
Lacing my fingers through her dark tresses, I enjoyed just how turned on she was already. Then, grabbing my cock, I slipped it into her mouth. Instinctively, her lips closed around it. I gave her cheek a little slap.
“No. Right now, you’re just going to take it.”
With my dick, I drove the point home deep into her throat.
Oh, yes. There was nothing like a good throat fuck to get me going. Right now, I was the definition of engulfed. Warm moistness was on all sides. I ground my dick around a little, back and forth. Kathryn gargled as if she were about to cough, though she held her position valiantly.
I slid myself out and, with the tips of my fingers, patted her head.
“Hold on there. I’m just getting started.”
Nodding solemnly, Kathryn opened her mouth even wider. With one glance at that gaping, eager little mouth parted for me, I reentered. This time, I shoved my dick in all the way until its head mashed against the slick wall of her throat. Mmmm. The force of my thrust shoved Kathryn back somewhat, although she kept her mouth nice and open for me.
I repeated the thrust again, faster this time. At the zenith, when I was fully enclosed in a lovely, sweet, sublime sensation, I looked down.
This was definitely a picture I could use to jerk myself off to. No need for even sound or video. Just the sight of my sexpot mistress Kathryn kneeling like this, every part of her bowing down, on her knees, breasts drooping, mouth parted, submission to the nth degree.
When I rammed myself in with a jabbing stab of joy, Kathryn’s body was thrown back a little once more. She made a sound as if she were trying to speak. Gripping her head, I pulled myself out partwa
y.
“What was that?”
Locking her dark, low-lidded eyes on me, she said the kind of thing you only heard in porn: “More.”
And oh, did I give her more. Holding her slightly dipped-back head in place, I jackhammered her oh-so-willing mouth with more. More thrusts, deeper and harder, faster each time. In and out. A bit diagonal one way, and a bit diagonal the other way. All the while, my oncoming orgasm swelled closer and closer.
I peeled Kathryn’s face backward so I could drill into her even deeper. Both of our bodies were loving it. How much she wanted it was teared up in the very corners of her eyes, and I was giving it to her. I was exploding with it. On and on—warm and fuck did it ever feel good—and on.
Now Kathryn was groaning for it, making garbled sounds that I could tell were her begging for it. So I unleashed it on her, in her. With several intense, wondrous spurts, I released my gratified juice into her. For the last few droplets, I slipped out and rubbed them into her lips.
For a second, we were frozen, still reliving what had just happened, panting at each other. I leaned over to the bedside table and produced a Kleenex, which I used to wipe Kathryn’s lips. Gathering herself up, she grabbed another Kleenex to wipe down my cock.
She turned away, perhaps to make for the bathroom, but I grabbed her wrist.
“You’re unbelievable,” I hissed.
Over her shoulder, she smiled at me.
“This is all turning me on much more than I expected,” she admitted, “but am I allowed to go to the bathroom?”
I responded with a resounding spank on her ass, one that sent it wiggling in a way that made my mouth water.
“Go, but quickly. I’ll be waiting in bed.”
A few minutes later, she returned, as perfectly nude as before.
Taking in my still-clothed upper body, she shook her head with a pouty frown.
“Is that really fair?”
MI latched my hands onto her little wrists and tugged her to me.
“Whoever said anything about this being fair?”
I slurped her next protest out of her mouth with my tongue. As my hands enjoyed the rest of her, my tongue swept around every part of her mouth, claiming it fully. It swept along her teeth, up over her gums. It excavated that little mouth until she was shaking from what I was doing to her.