“What do you want from me?” she asks.
“You know what I want,” I whisper. “I want you on your knees waiting for me.”
“Not going to happen,” she says.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see my secretary walking my way with a stack of papers.
“Mr. Morelli, you have a call waiting for you on line seven. Here are the consumer reports you asked for, and—”
I wave her away before she can finish. I really don’t need the stress today.
I’m only thinking about one woman. That elegant, young beauty from the party.
“Why won’t it happen?” I ask her. “You and I both know you had fun.”
“It’s not a good idea,” she says. “I looked you up last night.”
“You’re kidding,” I reply.
“I’m not,” she says. “I know who you are. You’re competing against my father.”
I defend myself. “No, I’m competing against that twerp, Byron. Besides, it’s not about competition. It’s just business.”
“What you and I both know is that it’s all about competition. One way or another, it comes down to a battle between you men. I don’t need the hassle,” she says.
Okay, I have to laugh at that. It’s true.
I sigh and grip my phone harder. “You’re a smart girl,” I say.
“Woman,” she corrects me. “I’m an intelligent woman.”
“Semantics,” I say. “Let me come over for lunch.”
She laughs at my expense. “You can beg for it. Maybe I’ll reconsider.”
The hallway is packed and irregular today. Company profits are down, meaning people are freaking out.
My team is scheduling last minute business meetings, looking over any neglected reports, and combing through the money channels. Someone will pay for this.
It’s no one’s fault but my own. I didn’t bid in time against Byron, so he beat us on an offer. An entire hotel, down the drain.
Sometimes it really is that simple.
“If there’s one thing I don’t do,” I say. “It’s beg for things.”
She inhales. “Oh yeah? What do you do then?”
I smile and walk into my office, slamming the door behind me. “I negotiate.”
Falling into my plush, leather chair, I watch the city I’ve grown to love.
Detroit.
From this high up, it looks fantastic. But there is still a lot of work to finish. Investors are falling in love with these streets all over again.
Sure, this surge is a lot like the last one. If things collapse, they collapse. That’s just the way the world works.
Lucky me, I’m always ahead of the curve.
“Okay,” she says. “Let’s negotiate.”
I grab a cup of coffee from my desk and lean back. “What are we negotiating over?”
A quick pause makes my heart race. “My pussy,” she says.
I bite my tongue and spill the dark liquid all over my new white t-shirt.
“Shit,” I exclaim. “Dammit.”
“Hm… Is that how you start the negotiation process?” she asks.
I sigh and quickly reach for some water. Of course, this only makes the stain worse. “Sorry, I just spilled coffee over my brand new shirt,” I say.
“How much was that shirt?” she asks.
Women. It’s like I said before. There’s always a price.
“Too much,” I say. “How about we negotiate during dinner, say seven o’clock tonight?”
She pauses. I don’t normally dote over women, but she’s got me hanging on the line like a tightrope walker.
“You know what? It’s a deal,” she says. “This isn’t a date. It’s a strict business negotiation.”
I try not to chuckle. “Yes, of course. Besides, I don’t go on dates.”
“Good,” she says. “I’ll see you. Seven.”
She gives me her address and hangs up the phone.
I think I’ve met my match. This can only mean one thing:
I’m doomed.
Madison
“I was pretty drunk at that party of yours,” Dasha admits.
It’s a nice day out. The sun shines bright, and the air is breezy and cool. With the windows open at her house, everything feels perfect.
“Yeah?” I laugh. “I guess I was too.”
Some days I’m envious of her life. Though she’s a single parent living in a hard city, she’s made everything in her life work to her advantage. That deadbeat father is in jail for the next 30 years, but she is the owner of her own Realty business, cashing in checks left and right.
She’s provided a great home for Holly, her daughter.
“I’m sorry about the whole phone number thing,” she says, nibbling her lip.
We’re folding clothes on the back porch, drinking iced teas, spiked with a little rum. In a nutshell, we’re starting to get honest with each other.
“Don’t be,” I say. “You’ll be happy to hear that it worked out great. We’re going out tonight.”
She drops the clothes she’s folding and gasps. “You what? You can’t go out with that guy!”
“And why is that?” I ask her, turning red.
What does she know that I don’t?
“Because! He’s one of the richest men in the country, and he’s a total asshole!” she exclaims.
Despite her shock, her smile can’t help but creep back onto her face. She loves this. After all, she was the one who set us up.
Regardless of what she’s heard, she wants the details, and she sure as hell wants me to see him.
“I’ve got to say, he’s been nice to me so far.” I shrug. “And he’s taking me out tonight. He’ll probably pay, too. I guess I don’t need it, but it’s nice to have someone doting on me.”
“Well, he definitely has money,” she says. “He’ll use it to take your dad’s company down.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” I warn her. “It was a fluke we met. I doubt he has an evil agenda.”
“I’m just saying.” Her mouth curls to the side. “Watch out. Remember, he was staring you down the whole night. You don’t think he knew who you were?”
“I don’t,” I say. “Besides, I don’t give a crap. It’s not my company. It’s Byron’s, remember?”
She sighs and goes back to folding clothes. “That’s true, I guess.”
Her daughter, Holly, comes running out onto the porch, holding two of her dolls.
She smiles and kisses my cheek. “Hi, Aunt Madison!”
“Hey, girlie. What do you got there?” I ask.
She holds the two plastic dolls and makes them kiss. “This is Jeffry and Jocelyn,” she says. “They’re in love.”
“Ew, gross!” I lean over and tickle her. She squeals and runs off into the backyard to play in the yard.
Dasha sips her “tea” and folds, humming a soft tune. After some time of near silence, I feel drunk enough to admit to her what we did.
“He’s got my panties.”
At first, she just holds the pair of jeans in her hands like she forgot how to fold. Then she turns to me and drops the pair.
“What the heck did you just say to me?” she asks.
“Um, he has my panties,” I repeat, choking on my tea with laughter.
“How did he get your panties, lady?” she asks, mortified for me. “Did you guys you-know-what at the party?”
“Um, not really? Sort of?” I say. “Oh, I don’t know. What is sex, anyway?”
I should have kept my mouth shut. This story is just too weird to tell.
“Well, little one,” she begins in a sarcastic tone. I’ve already tuned her out. “Let me tell you the story about the birds and the bees.”
I grin. “Shut up,” I say. “I know what sex is. But this was… different. It was primal.”
She drops her clothes. “Tell me,” she says. “Everything. Spill it, sister.”
“Okay. So he calls me, right? I walk into the lobby. He’s upstairs,
just staring me down,” I begin.
“Creepy,” she says. “I like it.”
“It was weird at first. But there was something about it. It just felt…”
I pause, and she answers for me. “Creepy?”
“Hot,” I continue. “So, I let it go on a little longer. We talk some more, until he tells me to… oh, I don’t know if I should say anything.”
I look away, feeling totally embarrassed by myself. I exposed my pussy for this man. I could have gotten caught.
What kind of a person am I?
“Nope. Not going to happen. You will tell me everything,” she says.
I lean forward and whisper, “He told me to play with myself.”
“And you did?” she replies, eyes widening with excitement.
“Trust me, I’m as shocked as you.”
“And then what?” she asks.
“He asked me for my panties,” I tell her. “It wasn’t all me, though. I made him masturbate onto the carpet.”
He lips contort. Did I say too much? Probably. This is the type of thing a woman should keep to herself.
“Okay, I don’t believe a word of this now. He came on the carpet?” she asks.
“Right on the brand new carpet. When he protested, I demanded it,” I say.
“You bitch. You bad bitch!” she screams.
“Mommy, what’s a bitch?” Holly asks.
Dasha covers her mouth. “Nothing, sweetie. Go back to playing with Jeffrey.”
I sigh, blushing hard. Closing my eyes, I lean back in my chair and think of his masculine body, his hard cock that barely fit inside his palm.
Truth is, I want it…
“Well,” she says. “You’re in over your head. You’re screwed, in every way imaginable.”
Screwed? Yes. But maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
“I’ll be fine,” I reason with her.
“Babe, he has your panties. Ugh, he’s probably carrying them around and using them for his sick pleasure,” she says.
That’s exactly what I want him to do.
“Is it weird the thought of that turns me on?” I ask.
Dasha shrugs. “Well, he is tall. And strong too. It could be worse.”
“And rich as hell. He dresses so well,” I reply.
She ponders the thought quietly. “I’d probably do it,” she says. “But you’re the responsible friend. You’re not supposed to make these mistakes. I am. And now I’m jealous of you.”
“Don’t be,” I say. “Tonight will be a train wreck.”
“Right,” she eyes me like I’m bluffing. “And tomorrow you’ll be telling me he has your socks.”
“Dasha, if that guy wants to keep my socks, he can go right ahead,” I say. “I need a new wardrobe. I think this man will be the perfect buyer.”
But I’m not using this man for his money. Far from it. He excites me, and I can’t wait to see what he has in store for me next.
Rocco
I make the drive to her house in the nice suburbs of Detroit and park the car in her driveway.
I clutch her pair of panties, unfolding them in my lap. Tonight’s the night. At least, I’m hoping it is. There’s just so much I want to do to her.
My mind is fucking racing with frighteningly hot images of her on her knees, begging for my cock.
I want to consume her wet cunt. I want to bend her over on her knees and take her from behind.
Fuck my business. This is what I was born to do.
I ring the doorbell, pocketing her underwear.
When she opens the door, I pull out a single rose and hand it to her. “Cute,” she says, setting it down on the table.
“What can I say? I’m old-fashioned.”
She smiles. “It’s beautiful.”
I look her up and down. She looks… amazing. Tonight, she’s chosen a red dress, and it’s very form fitting.
There’s nothing like seeing her tits pressed against the stretchy fabric. Her ass is plump, like a round peach.
I have half a mind to roll the back end up, to go to town on her, right here.
“You look gorgeous,” I say.
“Thank you,” she says. Her face is a pure creamy hue, combining wonderfully with her dark mascara. “You’re already losing this negotiation, you know.”
“Boy, do I know it,” I say, taking her hand.
She steps down the three steps to her door. Her heels click on each step, and her ass bounces. She’s more dangerous than half the men I deal with.
Fuck this negotiation. We’re already where I want to be. Her house. We just need to take a few steps inside, and we’ll be in her bed.
However, when my hand reaches for the car door, I know it’s over. Let the negotiations begin.
We step into the backseat, and my driver takes us to a restaurant I own. It’s a nice seafood restaurant. Very expensive.
She crosses her legs. “I could’ve sworn you would pick me up in a limo,” she says.
“I’m losing that bad, huh?” I ask.
She nods.
“Well, then. I’ll have to step up my game,” I say.
She nods again, and I reach into my pocket. I pull out her panties and hold them up for her to see. She grabs them and smiles.
“I thought I told you to use them,” she says. “I don’t see a drop of cum on them.”
I roll the driver’s window up. This is something I definitely don’t want getting out.
My pulse quickens. I thought she might back down from her dirtiness, but she’s all about it.
“I didn’t have a chance to,” I tell her. “I’ve been in meetings all day.”
“Keep them,” she says. “I want you to use them, right after one of your business meetings. I want you to go into your office, lock your door, and blow your load all over them.”
She spreads her legs, and I can see her garter, black, hugging her thighs.
I choke when I see her pussy.
She closes her legs again and smiles. Her dark red lipstick teases.
“You’re winning the negotiation,” I tell her, pocketing the soft cotton again.
“I always win,” she says.
I place my hand on her thigh and squeeze. She doesn’t say a word. She eyes me, silently.
The rest of the drive is quiet, with us staring heavily at one another. There’s something deep between us. I’m not sure what to call it, but I’m captivated.
When we reach the restaurant, she sighs.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her.
“Nothing,” she says, stepping out onto the pavement. “I just thought you’d be a better negotiator than this. You took me to your own restaurant?”
Shit. I’m caught.
“You’ve done your research, haven’t you?” I ask.
“I have a whole tab on you now.”
She winks, walking through the front door. I’m forced to jog over before she sits down at the table I have reserved for us.
When we sit, there’s a table full of food and drinks waiting for us. No wait time. I timed it just right for us.
“Now, I can get behind this. Plenty of choices and no waiting around,” she says. “That’s one point in your favor.”
The waiter knows what to bring. One Mai-Tai. One old fashioned.
She drinks the Mai-Tai quickly. When I tell her to slow down, she gulps the rest of it.
“Don’t worry. I’m good,” she says. “I’m a strong woman.”
I grin. “I can tell.”
The lighting is dark. A blue hue saturates above our heads.
“So, what do you think of the place?” I ask.
She smiles and takes a small bite of lobster. “It’s nice,” she says. “But I’m curious. What do you have next on your list of things to do?”
I smile and ponder the question. Besides eating her pussy to completion? Let’s see, bending her over the side of her couch, fucking her against her wall.
There are an infinite number of possibilities.
&n
bsp; “I thought we could take a walk around the gardens,” I say.
If she only could read my mind, she’d know about all the dirty things I want to do to her right now.
“That sounds kind of romantic,” she says.
“It’s a nice night out, don’t you think?” I ask.
The big glass windows have one of the best views of the city. Outside, the lights inside people’s homes shine. It’s a beautiful night, that’s for sure.
“It’s wonderful outside,” she says.
“So maybe we should get on to it,” I reply.
Glancing toward the back, she says, “I need to use the restroom before we leave. Can you show me where that is?”
I point behind us. “It’s right through that hallway,” I tell her.
She stands and adjusts her dress. “Why don’t you show me? I might need some help.”
She turns her head and pierces me with those dark, beautiful eyes.
The way her lips pop when she says the word “help” sends all the blood in my body down to my cock.
I’m throbbing, aching for her. And she knows it.
In front of me, her ass rocks back and forth, bouncing up and down. I swallow hard and loosen the top button of my suit.
When I walk to the women’s restroom, I stop as a cleaner exits. “It’s right through here, ma’am,” I tell Madison.
“I said I need some help,” she says, pushing open the door.
“I, uh…” I stutter, not knowing the right words to say.
She grabs my shirt and squeezes, lips pouting. “Please?”
The blood rushes to my face.
She pulls me inside.
Lucky for me, it’s empty. We walk in further, and she locks the door to the room in a hurry.
“You’ll have to text your staff and tell them the women’s bathroom will undergo some… maintenance,” she says.
She runs her tongue against the front of her teeth.
“They’ll figure it out,” I say, undoing my tie.
She leans against the wall of a stall. I reach my hand out and grab the back of her thigh. I squeeze and glide upward.
“How’s the negotiating going?” I ask her.
Beg Me: A Billionaire Syndicate Romance Page 3