by Amy Brent
“Other than that, give me your thoughts on the acquisition.”
Before I could answer he swept a hand at the others, who were watching and listening while trying to pretend that they weren’t.
“Listen up, people, because I’m going to ask each of you the same question later.”
I cleared my throat and folded my hands on the table and leaned on my elbows. “I believe the acquisition is smart, given the share price you’re paying, which is $31 a share. That’s $2 over market, but anything up to $40 a share would be a bargain given the value of the contracts and assets that Anderson holds.”
“What about their infrastructure and expansion plans?” he asked. “According to your resume you are one of Goldman’s experts on digital networks and optical fiber.”
I tried to keep the smug look off my face. I wondered if anyone else on the team had even bothered to read my resume. “Their infrastructure is sound, but aging rapidly. They have contracts in place to install fiber optic networks for a number of small and medium municipalities, but the competition to move into major markets like New York, Chicago, and Atlanta, is fierce. Until those systems are in place, their customers are at the mercy of the older wired networks, which could be a concern down the road.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. They all did. He knew exactly what I was talking about.
He said, “And if their old customers are at the mercy of their old technology, those customers might be attracted to a different carrier with new technology like fiber optics that offers greater connectivity and faster speeds.”
“Exactly,” I said, nodding. “It’s not a tremendous concern now, but if companies like Charter and Spectrum install fiber optic networks faster than Anderson, well…”
“They could lure away Anderson’s customers, making the company less valuable than it is today.” He gave me a smile that was not filled with tricks or treats. It was one of admiration.
“Very impressive, Miss Carlson,” he said.
“Candice,” I shot back.
“Right. Candice.”
He swiveled his chair to face the others and bounced the rubber ball on the floor between his feet. “All right then. Let’s hear what the rest of you have to say.”
I ate the entire honey bun and drank the coffee as I listened to the older, wiser, more-expert members of the team say basically the same things I just did.
Occasionally, Tanner would glance over and smile, as if saying, “You nailed it, girl.”
I found that I couldn’t keep my eyes from drifting over his body as he conducted the meeting.
Such boyish charm in a such a seriously hot and seriously brilliant package.
Maybe Tanner Wright wasn’t such a douchebag after all.
Tanner
By the time the corporate jet touched down in Tucson, I was certain of three things.
Thing Number One: Henry was wise to hire the Goldman & Stern team to do the final due diligence on the Anderson deal. They were all very sharp and knew the industry well. I was impressed, even though I had to pull Stan’s sharp nose out of my ass a time or two.
Even the angry little woman who looked like she could chew nails, the goofy accountant enamored of the pilot’s cap, and the legal eagle who I think was asleep with his eyes open most of the time, all had good insight and input into the deal.
Thing Number Two: There were red flags in the Anderson P&L’s that clearly Henry didn’t want to discuss in front of the Goldman group. Fine, we’d address those red flags when we were alone.
Sometimes our deals required that we do things, say things, or ignore things in order to keep certain facts and figures out of the public eye. I got the feeling that Stan was caught with his pants down because he underestimated the abilities of their junior consultant.
And finally, Thing Number Three that I was certain of by the time the jet landed in Tucson was that I wanted to get to know Candice Carlson better. Much better. A lot better.
I wasn’t sure exactly what was drawing me to her, but I felt like a moth being lured to a flame. I just didn’t want to get my wings – or other body parts --singed.
Perhaps it was that she was beautiful in an unassuming way. You didn’t have to sandblast the makeup from her face or peel back the layers of her multiple personalities to find the real woman underneath.
She was genuine, sincere, and so unlike the other women I typically spent time with.
She was intelligent, funny, warm, and down to earth. I loved the way her nose crinkled when she laughed at my stupid jokes and how the corners of her lips curled into a smile.
There was no pretense in her eyes. What you saw was what you got. I immediately loved that about her.
Candice Carlson was the real deal.
The genuine article.
The only question was: how do I get someone like her to like someone like me? It was a question asked over the ages by teenage boys, star-crossed lovers, and love struck billionaires used to getting whatever they wanted.
I knew bragging about my cars and jets and money wasn’t going to impress her. No, a woman like Candice Carlson didn’t care about those sorts of things.
I had a winning personality. I was funny and charming and good looking and in great shape. Oh, and modest. I was very modest. And according to dozens of women in the greater Chicago area-- and around the world -- one hell of a great lay.
I could impress her with the size of my dick and my ability to rock and roll all night long, but that was a Phase Two move.
I had to get her to Phase One first.
I had to get her to like me.
Then everything else would fall into place.
Candice
A team from Anderson Telecommunications was waiting on the tarmac when we touched down in Tucson. Tanner and Costas climbed into the back of a stretch limo with the Anderson execs and went one way, and the Goldman team was shuffled into a van driven by an assistant and ferried to the Anderson offices in downtown Tucson.
Even though the rest of the country was frozen solid, winter in Tucson felt like spring back in Nebraska. It was nearly seventy-degrees and sunny as we stepped off the plane. We all peeled off our Chicago-winter coats and left them on the plane before getting into the van.
I spent the entire day locked in a room with half a dozen analysts and a manager from Anderson’s network expansion group. The task was to conduct cost analysis on their major market expansion plans. It was my job to determine if Anderson’s plans were realistic or inflated to drive the acquisition stock price higher.
Stan appeared at the door around six and said to call it a day. I was never so happy to see him in my life. By the time I got settled into my hotel room, it was nearly eight o’clock and my brain was fried.
I stripped off my clothes and hung them neatly on hangers, then went in to take a quick shower. The hot water felt wonderful as it melted away the tension from my neck and shoulders.
I didn’t realize how stressful the day had been, or how my muscles had tied into knots. I closed my eyes and wished that Tanner was there in the shower behind me, rubbing away the tension from my shoulders as his cock slid into me from behind.
My stomach growling forced me back to reality. I remembered that I hadn’t eaten anything since the honey bun earlier in the day.
Oh well, save that fantasy for another day.
I turned off the shower and reached for a towel.
I pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and a ratty Harvard t-shirt. Some women slept in nightgowns, some in negligees, some in the nude. I dressed comfortably for bed. I had no one to impress.
I pulled my hair into a ponytail and picked up the room service menu from the dresser. I called down and ordered a cheeseburger and fries and a chocolate shake. When I was out of town, my usual healthy-eating regiment went out the window.
I picked up the remote and settled back on the bed to watch a little television until my not-so-healthy dinner arrived.
I was thirty minutes into a rerun of
The Housewives of Orange County when someone knocked on the door. They called out, “Room service!”
“Just a minute,” I called back. I clicked off the TV and hopped off the bed. I scooped my purse off the dresser so I could give the guy a tip.
When I opened the door, there stood Tanner Wright, wearing a chef’s hat and pushing a cart that held an assortment of covered dishes.
“What the heck?” I asked with a wide smile. “What are you doing?”
“Delivering your dinner, madam,” he said, sweeping his arms over the cart of food as if he had made it magically appear. “May I come in or would you prefer to dine in the hallway?”
I stepped aside to let him push the cart into the room. He directed me to sit on the foot of the bed and made a show of taking the covers off the dishes.
“For Madam Carlson this evening we have a lovely fresh garden salad, which, if I may recommend, you just toss in the trash because it’s really just rabbit food.”
He lifted the silver cover off the first plate.
“As the main course, we have a magnificent filet mignon, garnished with baby carrots and garlic mashed potatoes.”
He lifted the next cover.
“For dessert, we have a lovely slice of strawberry cheese cake and to drink, we have coffee, tea, or…”
He reached beneath the cart and brought out two six packs of beer. “Coors in the bottle, my personal favorite.”
“You’re really something,” I said with a grin. I lifted my chin and let my eyes go around the plates. “It looks like you brought enough for two.”
He mocked a look of surprise. “Did I? Oh my, the kitchen must have messed up your order. I’ll have them flogged at once.”
“I can’t eat all of that,” I said with a shrug. I arched my eyebrows and smiled up at him. “Maybe you’d like to join me?”
Tanner grinned and plucked the chef’s hat off his head. He tossed the chef’s hat on the cart and rubbed his hands together and smiled.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he growled. “I’m famished!”
Tanner spread the food out on the little table in front of the window and we sat on opposites sides and dug in. We both ate like starving souls. The food was amazing.
We trashed the salads.
The filet melted in my mouth.
The dessert literally made me moan.
For hours, we chatted like old friends as we stuffed our bellies with food and washed it down with cold beer. Tanner talked about his life, how he started the company in his parents’ garage when he was just a teenager, how he met Henry Costas at MIT and convinced him to become his partner, how he and Henry had built the company from the ground up.
There lots of victories, but I could sense a sadness when he talked about his personal life. He’d never been married. He had never even come close. He admitted to being a playboy, but in a moment of reflection, he said he would love to meet the right girl someday and start a family. I watched his eyes as he spoke. The douchebag I’d met the day before was no longer there.
He had been replaced by – dare I say – a nice guy.
Tanner leaned back with his fifth or six beer and sighed. “Yes, sir, it’s been an interesting ride.” He took a sip and flexed his eyebrows at me. “What about you, Candice Carlson, with your snappy business suits and an MBA from Harvard. Why is there no significant other in your life?”
I held the bottle to my lips and tried to be coy. “Who said there wasn’t a significant other in my life.”
“Facebooks says,” he shot back.
The bottle froze at my bottom lip. “Oh, my god. You scoped me out on Facebook?”
He huffed at me. “OMG, you scoped me out on Facebook? Of course, I did. Don’t you know, Facebook reveals all. And according to your relationship status, you are single.”
“Why isn’t there a relationship status that says none of your fucking business?”
“I think there is, actually,” he said with a thoughtful pout. “It’s the one right under ‘fuck off and die’.”
I drained the bottle and he handed me another. Then I made the mistake of telling him about Scott, and how his mother had forced him to break up with me.
“What a pussy,” he growled.
“Oh, you have no idea,” I said, smacking my lips. “Scott took the word pussy to new heights.”
“He set the pussy bar higher for all mankind,” Tanner said seriously. “Fucking mama’s boy.”
“You got that right.”
“Let me tell you something,” he said, bobbing in and out, slurring his words a little. “If you were my girl and my mom said to dump you?” He poked out his bottom lip and shook his head. “I’d say mom, no fucking way. Do you know how hard it is to find a nice girl out there!”
I almost blew beer though my nose. I grabbed a napkin and wiped my mouth as he grinned at my reaction. I waved my hands in front of my face to fan away the tears of laughter.
Almost in jest (almost) I asked, “So, you think I’m a nice girl?”
Tanner licked the beer from his lips and gazed into my eyes. “I think you are a very nice girl,” he said. “Do you think I’m a nice boy?”
“Oh no,” I said, feeling the flush of the alcohol flowing through my veins. I leaned in and batted my eyes at him. “I think you’re a bad boy, Mr. Wright. A very bad boy, indeed.”
I drained the bottle and slammed it on the table.
Tanner
I gotta admit, I was a little shocked -- and more than a little turned on -- when Candice guzzled the remaining beer out of the bottle like a biker at a drinking contest and slammed it on the table.
She ran her tongue around her lips and blinked at me. She was a little drunk. We both were. But not so drunk that we didn’t know what was about to happen.
She burped and gave me a silly smile.
I burped louder and gave her a bigger smile.
I reached across the table for her. She put her hand in mine. She got out of her chair and came around to me. She straddled my legs to sit on my thighs, and put her hands on my cheeks.
She brought her mouth to mine and stared into my eyes as her tongue darted across my lips. Then she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to mine and our tongues began to rock and roll.
In an instant, my hands were exploring her body. She was wearing a pair of loose boxer shorts. I slid my hands into the leg holes and dug my fingers into her ass cheeks. I could feel her big tits pressing into my chest. She writhed against me as we kissed. I felt my blood beginning to boil.
“No one can know,” she said, breathing into my ear as I nibbled the ridge of her jaw. She had her hands on the sides of my head. She pulled my head back to look at me. “Tanner, do you hear me? No one can know.”
“I hear you,” I said, gazing into her eyes. “No one can know.”
She stared deeply into my eyes for a moment, as if trying to determine if I was telling the truth or just saying it to get laid. Quickly satisfied, she pressed her lips to mine again and started tugging up my t-shirt. I pulled my hands from her ass and tugged the shirt over my head. She did the same.
Her beautiful breasts bounced as the shirt came off her head. Her breasts were full and round and milky white. Her areolas and nipples were like dark strawberries on two porcelain plates.
My hands went to her breasts and gently massaged them as my fingertips teased her nipples.
God I loved those big, natural breasts…
Nothing felt as good in a man’s hand as a woman’s natural tits.
Okay, fine, I like the fake ones, too, but Candice’s were freakin’ amazing.
My cock was hard and ready to play.
It pushed against my jeans as she slid her ass and cunt back and forth against my thigh.
I put my hands on her ass again and lifted her up as I got out of the chair.
She wrapped her legs around me and I carried her to the bed.
Candice
“Oh, my god, Candice Carlson. What are you doing?�
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It was the little voice in my head that sounded like my mother.
“I’m getting laid, mom,” the little voice that sounded like me replied. Wait. Of course it sounded like me. It’s my voice. Duh.
“You can’t do that, Candice. Not with him.”
“Yes, I can, mom. Just watch me. I mean, no mom, don’t watch, ooh, gross…
“You’ll regret it.”
“I know, mom. Now fuck off!”
I could feel Tanner’s hard cock beneath me as I squirmed against his lap. My lips were locked on his. My fingers were in his hair. His hands were on my ass.
He picked me up as I were light as a feather and carried me to the bed. He set me on the edge of the bed, then pushed my shoulders back. He eased the boxer shorts down my legs and tossed them aside. With his hands on my knees, he spread my legs and smiled when he saw how wet I was.
That’s another side note about being a virgin for you: it’s like freakin’ Hot Springs, Arkansas down there all the time. My pussy was so wet I could feel hot juices running down my taint and into my asshole, like a hot mountain stream.
Tanner kept his hands on my legs as he got to his knees. My cunt was at the edge of the bed. He slid his hands slowly down my thighs.
I held my breath in anticipation of the first hand to touch my clit that wasn’t own.
The second Tanner’s thumbs brushed against my clit hood my entire body shook, as if I was having a spasm. But it wasn’t a spasm. It was the first shudders of an orgasm that had been building inside of me for years. It had waited patiently in my womb since puberty, like a dormant volcano waiting for the elements to demand its eruption.
I sucked in air through my teeth and cupped my breasts together. I squeezed my nipples as Tanner’s fingers explored the folds of my pussy.
“Beautiful,” I heard him say as he bent his head to place gentle kisses on my pussy lips. His lips found my clit and another shudder rumbled through me. My pussy was flowing as Tanner’s lips and tongues swirled around my clit and his fingers found my opening. I felt him slide in one finger, then two. His hand was lubricated by my juices. His fingers slid in easily. There was a little pain, but I tried to ignore it.