by Dark Angel
I close my eyes and start to drift off into my own world. My hand runs back down my chest, over my stomach, and back to my well-fucked cunt. I slip two fingers inside myself and press them deep, curling my fingers and pressing into my G-spot.
I finger myself in and out, pressing hard and deep as I build up to…whatever number of orgasm I’m at at this point. I’ve gone well beyond losing count, and I finally just let myself relax into the release of it.
My whole body shivers and shakes, throbbing and pulsing, my cunt tightening around my fingers as I convulse to my very core. I’m so wrapped up in my orgasm that I barely notice as the men pick me up in their arms and lay me on the floor.
When I’m finally able to think again, I find myself being positioned on top of Killian, and before I can even say anything, his cock is shoved deep up my cunt.
I look up to see Derek in front of me, cock pointed directly at me with its own obvious intent. I take it into my mouth lovingly.
I feel Xane and Spencer both behind me, and my eyes grow wide as one of them starts to slide his cock into my cunt alongside Killian’s. Xane scoots to the side as my cunt struggles to accommodate them both. Spencer takes his position, slipping his cock deep into my ass, filling me and overflowing me with cock.
I yell out, my mouth muffled with Derek’s cock, and he takes the opportunity to shove his cock even further, sliding it all the way down my throat against my scream.
All four of them begin fucking me, thrusting into me with complete abandon. No rhythm, no consistency—just pure animalistic lust as they test the very limits of my body.
I love every single moment of it.
My mind begins to blur, and my body gives up to their whims entirely. I love these men and what they do to me.
After what seems like an eternity of bliss, we finally settle down together in a fluid soaked, panting mess.
“That was…incredible,” I say through my breaths. “That was also very uncharacteristic of me.”
I stand up and slowly divvy out their various articles of clothing.
“I think I need a little time to sort out who exactly I am. I think I have a good sense of who I am when it comes to you four, but…I just need a little time is all.”
They each nod and respond with a kiss as they gather themselves up.
As we prepare to part ways, I look at them each longingly.
“Thank you for not giving up on me,” I say as I close my office door.
I rest my back against the door. The cool wood brings down the gravity of what just happened smack into my mind.
Chapter 38
Julia
What the hell have I done?
Well, that’s an easy question, at least. I fucked them all in my office—a line I swore I would never cross. Mixing business and pleasure seems to be the norm for me lately.
Another day in the office. I should be glad to be back, but my mood is sour. I don’t think its regret for defiling my office. Quite the opposite.
They seemed…detached. No—cautious. Dare I say…it was too vanilla?
I’m definitely not in control of myself. Three times on the elevator ride to my floor, people complimented me on my tan. Why would I be mad about that?
One person even said I should vacation more often.
With the last few floors up, when I’m finally alone in the small glass elevator, I scream at the top of my lungs.
Yep. I’ve lost it.
“What the fuck does that mean? Take more vacations? Who the fuck does she think she is? This is my fucking company!” I scream, even going to the point of stomping my feet.
A childish act, but it’s how I feel right now. This is my company, and I don’t need a fucking vacation.
The door slides open just as I prop my head against the cool siding of the elevator. They meant me no harm. I’m overreacting again.
Something I said I wouldn’t do.
I scold myself for allowing my mind to get the best of me once again.
When was the last time my mind was clear?
Flying. Getting hit. Smacked. Whipped. Choked.
I reach out to the door knob of my office. I know the moment I walk in, I’m going to lock the door, yank my clothes off, and masturbate furiously. I need it.
I need to feel something, anything, that brings me back to those moments of real clarity and release. Suddenly, one of the agents stops me. Oh, thank god.
Finally, someone with a real problem for me to handle!
“Julia, can you sign this invoice for new pens?” he asks.
Pens? Is he serious? This is my big important and super distracting problem to get my mind off the fact that I need to be tied up, bruised, whipped…
I sigh and sign the paper, then walk off without a word. It’s rude of me, yes, but all he needs are new pens. I would even welcome lost luggage or flight cancelations, but all I get is an invoice. For pens.
It seems all they need me for is to decide on blue or black writing instruments.
“Hold my calls this morning. I need a cup of coffee, strong and dark.”
I don’t even wait for my assistant to say anything. Again, I don’t make it into my office before I’m stopped. Thank god.
“Julia, look! We have the reports from last month, and we’re up 25 percent in bookings. Can you believe it?” she says, giddy with excitement.
I hold back my feelings, but this is getting to me, and it’s only nine a.m. in the morning.
“That’s wonderful, but I have a phone meeting,” I lie. “I’d love to celebrate after the big lunch meeting.”
I walk away quickly, not stopping till I close my office door.
I press my body against the door, wishing this feeling would go away. The one where you aren’t as important as you once thought. Or the one that the world won’t stop because you’re not there to keep it moving.
Fucked up feelings, all of them.
I slide my body down the door, not stopping till my ass rests on the carpet. I know that I’m acting childish, but until recently, I thought I was irreplaceable. That vacation was an eye-opener in many ways for me.
My company can run without me here.
I guess this is what a parent feels like when their child leaves. My business is doing so well that I’m not needed anymore.
Sitting on the floor for what seems forever, I slowly realize that I’ve done a good job here.
Why am I upset because my staff is doing everything I taught them—and doing it well, too?
I stand up, collecting my thoughts. I take a seat in my sleek, minimalist office chair and look around, studying my surroundings. Something about the way it is feels…off.
Everything’s suddenly so confining. I loved this office before, but it now seems so clinical and sterile. I need something to make me feel comfortable.
“I wonder what a hammock would look like in he—” I say to myself, stopping mid-sentence.
Did I just say that? A hammock?
A knock on the door brings me back for a moment.
“Julia, good news. We have a new client that’s taking her entire office on vacation. Margo sold her a VIP package. Amazing, right?” my assistant says, her voice full of giggles.
“Wow, that’s amazing! Way to go. If you’ll excuse me, please. I have a call,” I smile, trying to avoid sarcasm.
I can’t get her out of my office fast enough. I’m to the point that I might either scream, cry, or run from the building. I don’t even know why I’m so upset.
Since I built Destinations Travel Facilitators, this has been my baby, my creation, and decided I would be the only one ever to run the business. Of course, each employee is talented in their own way, but none compares to me, right?
That’s what I thought until today.
What should I do? What would you do?
I open my computer screen to the company newsletter that was just released, and another tug at the heart is right in front of me. My assistant got engaged, and the entire office
threw a party while I was gone. I didn’t even know.
I missed something significant to someone on my staff.
Using an online app, I send her flowers to congratulate her, but still, that’s not enough for me. I’ve never suffered from depression, but I’m starting to understand what it feels like.
I realize that no matter how hard I fight this, my company is reliable; I have an excellent staff, and if I needed to step away at any time, for any amount of time, I can.
I lean forward to steady myself with the desk, my hands covering my face. The tears are on the verge of falling. I can’t help it.
Maybe a good cry is what I need to cleanse my soul. My business had been a replacement for a social life and a family for years now. It’s quite disheartening to realize that I’ve wasted so much time.
The tears start. I can’t stop them. I hate showing weakness, even just around myself.
I needed that vacation more than I realized. I miss them all over again, and I was just with the four guys yesterday.
Is it normal to miss people that quickly?
My assistant brings in a fresh cup of coffee. I mention her engagement, and she’s waving that ring around like some sort of trophy. For some women, it would be special.
It is special, but I’ve never seen myself as that type. Settling down in the suburbs, starting a family with a guy, throwing block parties every third Saturday…going to bed with just one guy…
I’m slowly realizing I might be more of a collar type of girl.
“Congratulations on the engagement. Make sure to let me know where you’d like to go on a honeymoon. The company will arrange it as a gift,” I say, smiling.
Her face is all the thank you that I need. She’s gushing with excitement, thanking me way too many times. I take care of my people.
I know what I need to do.
I need a few days away to think. I need to get my head straight and find some peace.
I’m not running away. Just taking a little time to self-reflect.
I book a few days at bed and breakfast that my clients have raved about many times.
I stand up suddenly, telling my assistant that I’ll be out of the office for a few days. I disappear through the doorway into the elevator before she can ask me anything. I want to be left alone.
First thing I do is turn my cell phone off. It won’t be turned on again till I’m back in the city.
After a quick trip to my house, I have a small bag of essentials, and even a few racy romance novels to read. I plan on using this time to my advantage. I swear to myself to not even think about Derek, Spencer, Xane, and Killian.
They can go ahead and miss me.
Have you ever just escaped without telling a soul where you were going? If not, welcome to my world. I’m not the missing bride, just the missing boss.
Chapter 39
Spencer
“Table for three. Can we have someplace private, babe?” I ask the waitress who can’t keep her eyes to herself.
She nods her head so fast it reminds me of a bobblehead doll. One of those cheesy little ones you see in the gift shop at a shitty resort.
I wouldn’t catch a garbage trinket like that at mine.
This chick probably has her panties on fire for me. I can‘t understand why they all forget to speak when I arrive.
I flash the server an award-winning smile, she drops the menus on the floor, and then scrambles to pick them up.
“Woah, babe. Slow down, chill a little. I got this,” I say, bending down to help her.
Killian and Xane arrive while all this unfolds; both are going to give me shit for this. I can see it on their face the moment they arrive. Some days, those assholes need to be late to a meeting.
“What the hell, Spencer. Hurting the staff already?” Xane says.
“You should tell your boss that he pushed you,” Killian adds.
Both the fuckers get the girl so frustrated that once again, she drops the menus.
“I’m so sorry, I dropped them again. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. Please forgive me,” she says.
None of us say a word. No need to make the waitress feel like shit. She’s human, and I’m in too good of a mood right now.
This place is nice. Not a four star, but I’ve never had a bad meal here. Plus, I don’t go for all that fancy shit the others like to eat, anyway. Give me a sweet burger and some fries, and I’m happy.
After all the shit calms down, we all take a seat at the table. It feels like every female in the place is checking us out. Little do they know there’s only one woman that matters in our lives.
None of us need anyone else. We’ve all decided that already.
Julia’s our girl.
We’ve never fully committed to sharing a woman before, but then again, none were ever like Julia. It takes a serious doll to unite four monster forces like us.
Before we can even start our talk, the waitress shows back up, but this time with glasses of water. If she drops these, we might have a problem.
“Can I get anyone a drink?” the waitress says.
First thing I notice is that she has more makeup on, and her perfume’s a little overpowering.
“A corona for me,” I say.
“Scotch on the rocks,” Killian says.
“Whiskey neat,” Xane says, closing the order.
The waitress seems to be trying to flirt awkwardly as we speak. Her eyelashes flutter way too many times for my taste. It’s like she’s trying to punctuate our order with her charms—or lack thereof.
“So, what’s happening with the remodel?” I ask.
We’ve spent a shit ton of money for this project, and I want to make sure that Julia will be happy with it. No matter what happens between the five of us, I have respect for that woman. She’s the first one who ever made me want something more than a quick fuck.
Xane tosses some paperwork on the table for Derek and me.
“It’s going well. The decorator wants to know what kind of lighting we want,” says Xane.
What the fuck do they mean lighting? The kind you turn on to brighten up the place? How the hell am I supposed to know what lighting brands there are?
I flip a switch or open a blind. Simple as that. I know nothing about bulbs, the shape of the fixtures, and if we want them to voice activated.
“How the hell would I know? Just get ones where you flip a switch and turn them on,” I say, laughing.
The waitress shows up with our drinks, brushing into each of us when she sets them on the table. I ignore it.
When she asks if we’re ready to order, all of us look surprised.
We haven’t even checked the menu yet. Not hard for me, though. I’m easy to please.
“Burger—well-done. And fries. Add bacon,” I say. “To the burger, too.”
“Steak, medium-rare, salad, and caramelized carrots,” Xane orders.
“Sounds good, but toss those carrots and add a baked potato for me,” Killian finishes off the order and hands her the menus.
She hangs back for one moment before scurrying back to put in our order.
I can’t help but laugh at this chick. This waitress has bumped us, batted her lashes, and even dropped a hint that she’s single.
Would it have been rude to say that none of us give a fuck if she’s single or not?
Killian grabs the paper off the table and reads off the list of things done.
“What about the furniture? I think we should go with something modern. Black with red accents for the chairs, and desks all stainless steel,” Killian says.
I make a face, knowing that Julia would hate that shit. “Fuck, no. Julia needs something comfortable. Maybe some bean bag chairs.”
Both look at me. I see a look of disgust.
“FUCK, no!” both Killian and Xane protest together.
I can’t stop laughing. Every time I say we need beanbag chairs, the others freak out. They have no sense of taste when it comes to comfort.
&
nbsp; I have them all over my pad. Chicks love it. Just make sure you have extra covers on them.
Easier to clean, you know, for times when you need to.
“Okay, whatever. Just order something you think Julia will like. Can I add a meditation room at least?” I ask.
Killian shakes his head, laughing at the idea. “Alright, a meditation room, but if she hates it, we blame it on you.”
“Hell yes, you can!” I say, laughing, but I know Julia will love it. She seemed open to the idea when I explained it to her on the island.
As we talk, the waitress brings the food and places it on the table. This time, her top has an extra button popped. She’s trying way too hard to get our attention.
Chicks like this have never interested me. I can’t get down with someone who throws their pussy at me. Sure, we’re all hot as fuck, but really?
She needs to find a little respect for herself and cool herself down.
The waitress seems to get the hint, walking off looking a little defeated.
She’s attractive—I’ll give her that. But she isn’t our girl. She’s no Julia.
I grab the ketchup bottle and smack the bottom until my fries are coated in a river of red. The two of them shake their head. They always criticize me covering it.
“Why can’t you fucking dip it?” they say.
But ever since I was little this has been my one vice, and this is how I’ve always done it. My mom would tell me that, as a kid, I wouldn’t even eat if there wasn’t a bottle on the table.
As we eat and continue discussing the plans, my cell rings. It’s Derek calling for an update on everything. He couldn’t make it due to a meeting.
“Bro, what’s up? Hold on, let me put you on speaker,” I say, clicking the phone over so we can all hear.
It might not be a wise thing since we’re in public, but fuck it. If people don’t like it, they can leave. I’m not trying to please anyone today.
“How’s it going? Have you seen the final touches?” Derek asks.
“We were just discussing the lighting. Did you check it out already?” Xane asks.