Royally Flushed: Tech Billionaires

by Ainsley St Claire

  He pulls up a stool between the two of us.

  Chrissy picks up her almost-empty glass of wine and takes a big swig. “My name is Madeline, and this is Amanda.”

  I chuckle that she uses our fake bar names. She’s out to tease this poor guy. I almost feel sorry for him. Maybe.

  “Nice to meet you both. My name is Peter Landon.” He leans toward my ear and whispers, “It’s not a sock. Care to feel for yourself?”

  I’m shocked that he heard me in a crowded bar on a busy weeknight. “Thanks,” I manage. “But I don’t typically feel men up until I’ve had at least a few drinks.”

  I’m out with my best friend, celebrating the sale of the company I started to a larger startup, which officially happens tomorrow morning. I sold to Disruptive Technologies in the hopes that together we can do something truly amazing.

  He motions to the bartender. “Can we get a sloe comfortable screw, a sex on the beach, and a blowjob, please?”

  Chrissy and I exchange looks. We may have met our match.

  He takes out a black American Express card and hands it to the bartender. “Please open a tab for these beautiful women.”

  I roll my eyes. “Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?”

  “Trust me, nothing is little, and you did say it would take a few drinks for you to verify that I don’t stuff my pants with socks.”

  I shake my head and smile. My panties have officially melted. He puts his arm around me, and his hand rests on my back. I feel the electric charge shoot right down to my core. The only thing that’s been keeping me company lately is Bob—my battery-operated boyfriend, and while Peter’s forwardness should have me throwing what’s left of my drink in his face, instead it has me turned on.

  “So what do you both do for work?” he asks.

  This is where Chrissy shines. Watching her spin a web of deceit is really quite fun. “I teach fourth grade at St. Anthony Catholic School, and Amanda is a nurse.”

  “So, it’s either hot for teacher or naughty nurse?”

  Damn, he’s good. That’s our joke. I might actually like this guy.

  Chrissy swears that men don’t like smart women, so we downplay our smarts. She has an MBA from Harvard and runs marketing for a major bank, and I went to Stanford and have a degree in electrical engineering and software development.

  “Which is your preference?” I ask.

  He gives me a salacious grin. “They all sound good to me.”

  The bartender places our drinks in front of us. Chrissy reaches for the shot glass and puts it down on the bar in front of her. Peter and I watch as she leans over and picks up the glass with her mouth, downing the shot in one gulp. When she puts the glass back on the bar, she wets her lips and makes a moaning noise as she licks the whipped cream away. Her little act has caught the attention of several here in the bar.

  “Thanks for the drink,” she says.

  “I’m happy to order you another round.” He smiles at her while his arm remains wrapped around me.

  She shakes her head.

  Peter turns to me. “Which do you prefer? Sex on the beach or a sloe comfortable screw?”

  I reach for the sloe comfortable screw and raise the glass to him. “To an evening of fun.”

  His eyes lock with mine. “I’ll drink to that.”

  “Well, I need to go. I have a date with a beautiful blond pussy with an amazing tongue.” Chrissy picks up her bag and winks at Peter. She’s talking about her cat, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Thanks for the blowjob.”

  “Any time, Maddy.” He reaches for her hand and kisses her knuckles.

  Chrissy turns and gives me a quick hug. “I want a text later tonight to verify if it’s one sock or two.” She steps back and stares at his package. “I’m guessing two.”

  I pick up the sloe comfortable screw and take a deep pull. I need to cool off.

  “So, tell me more about you.” Peter’s whisper in my ear makes my nipples pebble.

  Damn, this man is becoming my kryptonite.

  I shrug. “There’s not much to tell. I work at the hospital as a surgical nurse. What about you? What gets a man a black American Express card?”

  He signals the bartender and points to our drinks, asking for a second round. “I suppose…” He doesn’t look at me. “…a solid idea that someone is foolish enough to buy.”

  I’m not interested in his money, so I won’t push. I can relate, given that my partially formed idea will be bought tomorrow for ten million dollars. But I’m not telling him that. He thinks I’m a naughty nurse.

  “You must be very thirsty to be ordering another round so quickly.”

  He leans in, and I can smell his pine scent. I like it. “I’m ready to show you that I don’t stuff my pants with socks, and I, too, have a wicked tongue.”

  With over a million people living in less than seven square miles, I have two choices: I can go home to Bob—again, or I can take this fine specimen of a man up on his offer. If he doesn’t have a sock in his pants, he may be more than I can take.

  “Then what are we waiting for?” I ask.

  “There’s a hotel just across the street.”

  “I was thinking the coatroom,” I suggest. I don’t want to spend the night with him. I just want a quick and thorough fuck.

  He nuzzles my neck. “I like the way you’re thinking.”

  The bar has a coatroom that’s heavily used during colder seasons, but given that the May weather is perfect tonight, there’s nothing going on. It’s a large closet, with a bench and a mirror. It might be fun, and a bit adventurous.

  I grab Peter by the hand and lead him to the closet, and the door isn’t shut behind me before his lips are on mine. His tongue is aggressive as it probes my mouth.

  I’m dizzy with desire. I can’t be sure, but I think this man just kissed my lips off.

  I step back and try to regain some composure. “I want to see your cock.”

  “I promise you will, but first, it’s all about you.” Turning me around to face the mirror and bending me over the bench, he pushes my skirt up and looks at me as he caresses my ass. Then he bends down and licks the insides of my thighs, which are glistening wet already.

  Yanking my panties down, he spreads my legs apart. I can see him behind me in the mirror. He’s watching me, too, as he puts his fingers deep into my pussy, sliding them in, nice and easy. It feels good. I begin to breathe heavy, small moans escaping my mouth.

  “You’re so tight. Do you like that?”

  I nod, enjoying his thumb strumming my clit while his fingers rub my g-spot.

  He smacks my right ass cheek, and it stings. He’s made me want this, and I’m powerless to stop my body from responding.

  He’s fucking me with his hands, and he pushes my hair off my neck, caressing the hollow of my throat with one thumb as he bangs me from behind. I press myself into his hand, my legs open, and my hands holding the bench and wall to keep me steady.

  His tongue is everywhere, inside me, on my clit, licking my thighs. He winds his hand around in my hair and pulls. He arches my back deeply and then puts his fingers inside me again, not just banging, but more like he’s feeling me from the inside. My orgasm hits quickly, and my legs quiver.

  “That’s it, sweetheart.”

  He licks up my cum as it leaks down my legs. “It’s sweet nectar.” He holds my head in one hand and puts the fingers of his other hand into my mouth so I can taste myself.

  I comply and suck his fingers.

  “You’re so sexy,” he rasps.

  I want to see if he’s genuinely as big as I think he is. I get down in front of him on my knees. I reach up and unbutton his jeans, looking at him the whole time.

  There’s no sock; he’s just big. I free the hard rod from his pants—the purple head glistening with pre-cum and the veins bulging. I’ve only seen cocks this big in adult toy stores. I didn’t think they came like this in real life.

  “Now that you know I don’t stuff my
pants with socks, what are you going to do with me?” he asks.

  As he threads his fingers in my hair, I lick the tip, and I hear his sharp intake of air. I’m not sure how much of this I’ll be able to swallow, but I really want to find out. I wrap one hand around the base of his cock and guide him in. He walks toward me, filling my mouth, and I slide back to keep from gagging, until he has me shoved up against the wall.

  He pulls out and yanks me back to my feet. He spins me around and throws me back over the bench again, bent forward at a ninety-degree angle with my legs apart.

  He pulls out his wallet, and I watch as he sheaths his cock.

  I shiver with excitement.

  He rubs the shaft through my slit and pushes inside. Little explosions happen across my vision as I reach another climax. The feeling, oh God, it’s more orgasmic than I’ve ever felt before.

  Forget Bob. This is what a real orgasm feels like.

  I see stars, and I’m squirting, coming. He’s pounding me, and it’s all happening at once. I’ve never been so overwhelmed with pleasure. It feels like honey dripping down my thighs. I can’t stop myself, and I let out a long, screaming groan, my eyes squeezing shut as fireworks explode.

  An hour later, I stumble out of the coatroom on a multi-orgasmic high. We didn’t exchange numbers or anything. It was just hot sex. Damn, that man was amazing. This is going to be a good week. Tomorrow I get a big fat check and a bunch of stock options. Life is perfect.

  I text Chrissy.

  Me: No sock. I may have to replace Bob, though.

  Chrissy: Did you exchange contact info?

  Me: Nope. If it’s meant to be, I’ll see him again. But I’m not counting on it.

  ****

  “Welcome, Ms. Prat.” The receptionist greets me as I walk in. “Would you like a cup of tea this morning?”

  It’s pretty bad when the receptionist knows my name and my drink order. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

  “Mr. Arnold will meet you in the large conference room shortly.” She opens her arm to the all-glass room beyond reception with a stunning view of the bay and Berkeley on the other side.

  I can’t sit down. I’m both nervous and excited. I’ve met with Claire Walsh several times, and we’ve hashed out our deal. I wish I could take the obscene amount of money they’re paying me and go sit on a beach for a few months and decompress, but unfortunately, part of the contract requires that I remain with the company for the next five years for the first ten percent of the shares, and another five years for the next ten percent.

  My phone rings, and it’s my mother. “Hi, Mom.”

  “I just wanted to wish you luck today. Are you nervous?”

  My mom is a high-powered attorney and partner in her law firm in Denver. I owe her everything. My dad left us when I was a baby, and it was always just the two of us. She’s the reason I’ve worked so hard to do so well.

  “A little nervous, but I now have a regular paycheck, and you can finally drop me from your health insurance.”

  She chortles, and I know she’s smiling. I was coming off of her insurance in a few months on my twenty-sixth birthday anyway. “We’ll have to find some warm sand to celebrate on.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Sweetheart, congratulations on a tremendous accomplishment. I’m very proud of you.”

  My mom has never been one to shower me with compliments, so I’m more than thrilled that she called. “I’ll talk to you later tonight.”

  I walk over to stand at the windows. I’m watching the barges make their way behind Treasure Island and underneath the Bay Bridge, headed for port, when I hear my lawyer enter the conference room behind me.

  “Good morning, Tinsley. How are you today? Did you go out and celebrate last night?”

  He has no idea. “I did. Thank you. I still can’t believe the deal we got.”

  He nods. “Don’t be fooled. They’re getting a deal with your idea. Today you’ll sign off on all the contracts and get a nice check.”

  I nod. I take a big breath of air as I watch Claire arrive with her lawyers.

  Two more men fall in behind them, and as we make our way through the introductions, I freeze.

  “Tinsley, this is my brother, Landon, head of development, and our chief investor, Mason Sullivan, with SHN.”

  He recognizes me at the same moment I realize it’s Peter from last night.

  Holy fucking shit.

  “So nice to meet you, Tinsley. Claire has told me so much about you.” He smiles, and my knees almost buckle.

  I’ve committed the next ten years to working for the one man I never thought I’d see again.

  To PreOrder Sleight of Hand

  Also by Ainsley St Claire

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  Enchanted (Venture Capitalist Book 8) Available on Amazon

  (Quinn and William’s story) Women don’t hold his interest past a week, until she accidentally leaves me a voice mail so hot it melts his phone. I need a fake fiancée for one week. What can a week hurt?

  Fascination (Venture Capitalist Book 9) Available on Amazon

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  House of Cards (Tech Billionaires Book 1) Available on Amazon

  (Maggie & Jonnie) Would you agree to a marriage to avoid going to jail? Maggie is the heiress to the Reinhardt Department Store fortune. Her father died and the board of the company expect Alex to run the company but they’ve never had a nonfamily member run the company. The board has a simple solution—she needs to put the family first and marry Alex. Forget the fact that she isn’t his type and she loves someone else.

  Royally Flushed (Tech Billionaires Book 2) Available on Amazon

  (Corrine & Jackson) Staying with him will be dangerous…They call him Billionaire, Environmentalist, and Playboy. I call him Boss. I try to keep it professi
onal, I want to resist him, but the pull is too strong. A bomb threat, a ransacked apartment, mysterious warnings, all telling me to leave him alone. Yes, staying will be dangerous, but leaving him will destroy me.

  Coming Soon

  June 2020

  Sleight of Hand (Tech Billionaires Book 3) Available for PreOrder on Amazon

  The night was magical, the morning after wasn't. I was celebrating selling my company when I noticed him enter the bar. Landon knew just what to say and one thing led to another. It was supposed to be a onetime thing, but reality slapped me in the face the next morning. He arrived to sign the purchase papers, and now I was committed to work for him for an entire decade. When I can’t make my code work, his patience runs thin. Someone is sabotaging us, and if we can’t figure it out, I’ll have no company, no money, and no future.

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  Are you wondering where it all started?

  Read Emerson & Dillon’s steamy story.