“Don’t hide your face from me.” I tilt my head so my mouth is close to her ear. “I understand why you don’t want to open up to me but at least let me see you.” Staying true to her pattern, she doesn’t do what I ask her, so I try another method. “Tell me the other reason why you became great at deep-throating.”
My question seems to do the trick, because she lifts her head, props on her elbow, and rests her head against her hand. “My ex-boyfriend couldn’t make me orgasm with vaginal sex, but he gave great head and would do it only if I sucked him off to his satisfaction. A dead-on example for ‘Practice makes perfect,’ I guess.”
The thought of her lips around another man’s dick isn’t something I’d like to ponder right now. Or ever. I run my finger alongside her spine and hips. Her skin erupts in goose bumps at the spots my fingertip wanders over. Now, that’s a better sight to focus on.
“Your ex is a jerk.”
“Yes, he is. I hadn’t realized it until I found out he was screwing my best friend, too. He didn’t even ask for forgiveness when I caught them riding each other like wild beasts in our bedroom. I’m glad I’m out of that shit.” She presses her lips together, looking away, perhaps remembering the pain of betrayal. “I guess mine is but a wishful thinking.”
“What is it?” I frown at her, replaying her words in my mind to check if I missed something.
“Finding a guy who doesn’t lie. I’m afraid it’s an extinct species.”
I smirk at her, shaking my head. She’s right. Even though I hate liars, I’m one of them.
“Ah, also he loved it when I massaged his prostate and probed him in the anus,” she adds, lifting an eyebrow cautiously, and I’m immediately filled with shame again for responding to her gesture violently. She was only trying to heighten my pleasure the way she learned it.
I stop my wandering hand and pull it away from her. I don’t deserve touching her that way. “Look, there’s no excuse for my behavior. To say I’m embarrassed to death doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel about what I did. I’m very sorry.”
When I move away, she slithers close to me, cupping my face between her hands, and kisses my lips softly. Her eyes are open, following mine, assessing my reactions. I let her kiss me and stare back at her twinkling irises, which are conveying soothing words to my soul. What is it with her and her power to render me shocked with each and every move she pursues? I guess I’ll never find out.
She pulls away, but her eyes continue their hypnotist session on me. “You looked pissed off with me. I feared you’d hurt me.” Her voice is barely audible.
“I feared that, too, when I realized what I was about to do.”
“Haven’t you let anyone else touch you… there?”
I give my head a little shake, trying to remember if any woman even attempted what Lindsay did twice. Nope, no one dared explore my back more than the customary groping of the cheeks.
“You weren’t that upset the first time. Was it particularly irritating in front of another woman?”
“I was upset the first time, too, but this afternoon you just seemed to do everything possible to get on my nerves. First choosing JJ over me and then dumping him when I had another woman. It’s not how I pictured the afternoon with you. I thought you and I would enjoy each other and JJ would be there just to collect the money. Which of course doesn’t justify my angry outburst in any way.”
“I’m sorry.” She drops her eyes to my lips. “I wish I’d done it the way you pictured it, but I got scared.”
I grab her hand that’s covering my cheek. “Scared of what?”
“I’d rather not say it.”
Has she seen my tendency for aggression even while I hadn’t been aware of it? Is that why she was scared of staying alone with me in the same room? Is it related to the contract? Did Michael warn her off of getting involved with me? Whatever it is, I’m afraid if I don’t act upon it right now, I’ll never be able to get it out of her.
I kiss her palm, inhaling her sweet scent, and then reach for her lips. She opens up her mouth for me easily, wrapping her arms around my neck to get more of me. Her kiss is full of confessions, but I wish I knew what they meant. Sliding her leg between mine, she starts teasing my cock with her thigh and damn me if my body doesn’t give her the reaction she’s aiming for. My tactic seems to be failing. Instead of getting her open up to me, I’m giving her a chance to escape the interrogation. So I do the only thing I can and pull away.
“Please, I want to hear what scared you so much that you chose to annoy me rather than use me for your ultimate pleasure.”
Her expression saddens, and she looks at me with concerned eyes. I can feel something big is coming. I hold my breath, anxiously waiting to know how she’ll wreck my world. Again.
“Because… because you seem to be the kind of man to whom I could lose my mind over, easily.”
What? Not Michael, not even my aggressive outburst, but a love declaration, or something very close to it? She tried to avoid me because she thinks of me as a man she could fall in love with?
Her face is serious. This is real. Not a joke, but a wave of laughter is threatening to burst from my mouth. I swallow hard to stifle it. What to say? That’s exactly my thoughts for you? Or, I’ve already lost my mind over you, and I don’t think it’ll ever come back to me? With the level of distrust occupying her thoughts, I’ll be giving her more reasons to suspect my honesty.
However, the expectant look dominant in her expression is pressuring me to respond to her revelation. I swallow again, sighing, trying to come up with a smart way to show her how I feel, or at least gain some time. My mind, which I’m always proud of for its practicality, is now failing me. She’ll give up, collect her things, and go, never coming back. The thought of her gone and me deserted, pinches at my heart. Why? Why do I feel so anxious and insufficient around her as if she’s the only woman left on earth, and if I screw it up, I’ll be left without love?
Love? Why the fuck am I thinking about love?
She sighs and rolls down, putting a cautious distance between our naked bodies. Oh, no. She’s going. That’s it for me.
“Ahh, I am…” What? I’m what? I feel like a little boy caught in front of a broken vase and not able to produce a good excuse for it and not the commanding man who gives consecutive orgasms to any woman available to him.
Her hand travels slowly on the bed, and I feel her fingers on my hip, moving to my cock. “Now I really want to taste your spunk.”
Huh? What does one thing have to do with the other? If I knew failure to respond has that effect on her, I’d shut my mouth throughout the afternoon.
She shifts and gets on her knees, walking on all four toward south, deliberately, self-assured, spreading fright and excitement all at once, and settles between my legs. Her body is relaxed. Her hands are poised when she moves them on my thighs toward my genitals.
The cold, calculated expression on her face makes me scared. My cock must have stuck itself inside me for the fear. She inhales deeply, parts her lips, and sticks the tip of her tongue out to moist them, and spreads a hand on my flaccid member. I prop myself up on my elbows to get a better view of the action before me.
She takes her time plotting her next move and eyes me with a shivering smile curling up her lips. Just like a wild beast seconds before latching onto its victim, her whole demeanor changes and she launches down and licks my severely tired cock to its full size in a matter of seconds.
I growl at the effect of her mouth on me. She frees my cock from her mouth for a moment to regard her accomplishment with pride. My cock glisters with her saliva and throbs with the need to have her back. I have to fist my hands to keep them from grabbing her head to prompt her to continue.
She glances at me with a smirk, clearly aware of what’s going through my mind, and dips her head to give me just what I want. I hiss between my teeth and throw myself on my back when her moist mouth sheaths my cock, and her tongue swirls around the tip of it. She’s s
o efficient with her lips and tongue I’m afraid I won’t last longer than a minute or two tops.
A deep, male voice from the intercom startles us both. It’s Alexander. “Ace, sorry for the interruption, but your father is in your office and wants to see you ASAP.”
“Michael?” I mumble. Lindsay slides my cock out of her mouth and gazes at me questioningly. “This’s the first time he’s visited PE. Something must be up,” I say.
She quickly gets on her feet and reaches for her bra, panties, and the robe. “My dress is in the room attached to your office, but I don’t want to meet with him wearing this.” She shows me the transparent robe. She shouldn’t meet with anyone wearing that except with me. My cock and I watch Lindsay’s ass in dismay when she bends down to slide into her panties. Even though I had more than my fair share of her for the day, the disappointment at not having enough time to let her finish me off is big enough a reason for me to get into a fight with Michael for choosing the worst time ever for giving me a surprise visit.
“I’ll make sure Nick gets some clothes for you. Are you leaving now? Stay a little longer. We can have dinner together.”
“I really can’t. I have plans already for dinner.”
My eyebrows lift instantly without my control. What? I’ve slept with her, not asked for her hand. Why am I suddenly bothered by her possible date with another guy?
“With my sister,” she adds, looking amused, probably by the murderous expression on my face.
I’m not sure why she had the need to explain herself, but I can’t say I disliked her attitude. At least it’ll help me focus on the immediate challenge. What is Michael doing here?
“In that case, I’ll see you soon?”
She smiles and nods. I get off the bed and walk toward her while she’s approaching me. We meet halfway and embrace each other like long-time lovers.
“I’ll call you,” I promise but my words don’t mean anything. Not as long as she’s under contract with Michael.
“Yeah, do that.” She peeks up at me, quirking her lips up, and I can’t help but lose myself in that beautiful mouth. I kiss her passionately as if we’ll start another love session, and it’s only when she pulls away, I remember I have Michael waiting for me. He hates waiting like the plague. And worse, he’ll likely ask me what took me so long, and I’ll have to come up with a lie.
“Don’t tell Michael anything about me and you,” I say.
“I won’t.”
I call Nick and order clothes for Lindsay, while trying to put on my pants and shirt. Nick accompanies Lindsay out, and I hurry to my office.
Despite my fear of finding Michael in a rage, yelling at my staff to get me to him dead or alive from wherever I am, I find him chatting and laughing with JJ. I haven’t been so grateful for having JJ on my team during his three-year contract with me as I am now. He’s superior when it comes to charming people, no matter what the gender is.
Michael is sitting in my chair, behind my desk, as if he owns the office. Although I started up the business with my own money and hard work, he feels entitled to treat my establishment like his own property. He can ruin me in a matter of days, if he wants. That’s why I don’t try and rub it in his face that I’m the real owner.
“I get to see my son at last.” There’s a hint of anger beneath the witty tone of Michael’s voice. Even as an adult, I can’t get rid of the immense feeling of fear at his outbursts.
One can never know the limits of his harm when he’s mad. I’d rather be surrounded by a dozen first-degree murder offenders than have to deal with Michael in that situation. The first time Chloe’s pictures with a boy appeared in a magazine—not while kissing or even holding hands, just walking together on a side walk— Michael got her fully naked and whipped her with his belt for half an hour straight in front of my mother, Zane, me, and the housekeepers. She had to be hospitalized for the deep scars on her skin at the tender age of fourteen. I have no doubt that incident triggered my mother’s suicidal thoughts.
“I’m sorry, Father. I had a client to take care of.” I hold my breath and glance at JJ pointedly, hoping he’ll keep his mouth shut about Lindsay. He must have known from the pictures in tabloids that she’s with Michael. Fortunately, JJ excuses himself without saying anything regarding the afternoon.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask Michael, opening the liquor cabinet.
“Whiskey.”
I pour him generously from the twenty-five-year-old Chivas Regal and place the glass on the table in front of him. Without losing a second, I get myself a glass from the same drink and take a generous sip, so he can also start drinking without worrying about the possibility of having poison in his drink. If I’d done so many horrible things to people, like he has, I’d also suspect each and everyone around me of plotting my death.
“I’m having very important guests next weekend.” He puts his glass back on the table and clasps his hands over my desk. “I want you to accompany me and do your best to entertain them.”
“We can host a party here for their honor if you think it’s appropriate. May I ask who they are and what kind of fun they’d prefer to have?” I take my place at the chair that’s connected to the biofeedback machine and try not to glance at his face since he hates being stared at directly. For him, only people with power equal to him have the right to look him straight in the eye and there’re only a handful of them in the entire world.
“The Russian Minister of Internal Affairs and his wife are coming for a special meeting. Get your best suites ready because they’ll stay here for three nights. The media doesn’t know it so you have to take extra precautions to keep their visit confidential. If anyone gets a whiff of their presence, I’ll hold you responsible.”
Oh, shit. I’ll have to cancel all the appointments from the clients but still have to pay the loss payments to the employees. That’ll cost me easily a hundred grand, not to mention the additional costs of catering and decorations. “Of course, Father.”
“Make sure your best looking men and women are available during their stay and hire some additional prostitutes if you must. I want all of their wishes fulfilled to the smallest detail. I hope your Russian is up to par because you’ll be their personal assistant throughout their stay.”
“Yes, Father. I’ll make sure they’ll enjoy their time in Pleasure Extraordinaire.”
“Lindsay will be here too, but make sure she doesn’t get involved with anyone unless it’s requested by the minister himself.”
Lindsay? Fuck. With my bad luck, the minister will ask for only her for twenty-four hours long. I’ll have to get in contact with her to warn her off accompanying Michael’s guests. On the other hand, I have no idea how she can say no to Michael.
“I’ll see to it.” I work hard to listen to the details about the special guests, grab a pen and notebook to jot down their likes and dislikes, and ask questions to keep my thoughts away from Lindsay at least while in Michael’s presence. The thought of Lindsay in the hands of some Russian jerk isn’t something that can be ignored easily.
The Family
I run out of the PE building as if there’re explosives in it, and in a sense, there are. Ace looked completely outraged, almost traumatized by the news of Michael’s unannounced visit. I have no idea about their father-son relationship, but I have this nagging feeling that the two aren’t exactly on their best terms.
That and my fear of facing Michael when I’m at my dirtiest, lowest, sluttiest makes me want to grow a pair of wings so I can fly away from PE’s sex-filled walls as quickly as possible, although I know that he knows what I’m doing here.
I drive to my home to shower, change into normal clothes, which won’t reveal majority of my body, and then text Taylor to ask about her plans for the evening.
Her reply arrives immediately. “I’m leaving for a dinner with Adriana. Adam has an errand to run and won’t be coming until midnight. Help!”
My text: “Lindsay to the rescue! Make sure they
serve margaritas wherever we’re going. I’m planning to get her drunk and take her picture while she’s making out with the bartender, then blackmail her to get her to behave nicely to you. It’ll be fun!”
Taylor: “I can’t say something similar hasn’t crossed my mind. One problem, though. She’s bringing her little son.”
My text: “No problemo. We can cuddle with her son while she cuddles with the bartender. Btw, how is my nephew/niece doing in your tummy?”
“Hopefully growing,” she replies, adding a smiley-face sign and the address of the restaurant. I want to assure her that this time she’ll have a healthy baby and to offer her free babysitting for life, but what if she doesn’t? If I’m feeling this insecure, how must she be feeling?
For some reason, I manage to arrive at the restaurant before Taylor and give Adriana an awkward hug. She and I probably exchanged only a few words during Taylor, and Adam’s wedding reception and have never been alone.
“So, how are you?” I ask, trying to remember her son’s name. Aiden, Jason?
“Not so well. The move has been going terribly. I have to deal with a lot of things with the new house and, as if I don’t have enough on my plate, Felix refuses to sleep through the night.”
Oh, Felix. Where did I get Aiden from? “He seems fine now. Huh, little boy? Aren’t you the cutest baby in the world?” I coo and soften my voice while caressing his cheek with my finger, and he responds with the sweetest, heart-melting smile, revealing his four teeth, trying to grab my finger. Taylor arrives while Felix and I are exchanging intimate smiles, apologizes for her tardiness, and shakes hands with Adriana. As in no hugging. Huh? I have a suspicion whose fault it is.
“Would you mind taking care of Felix for a second? I have to use the restroom,” Adriana asks and Taylor and I both nod and wave our hands at her.
“Oh, please go and never come back, and leave your cute boy to us,” I whisper to Taylor after I make sure Adriana is gone.
Taylor lifts the boy from his high chair and holds him in her arms, kissing his cheeks several times. “He’s so sweet, I can kiss him all night long.”
Pleasure Extraordinaire 2 (PURSUIT) Page 9