Beg Me: A Billionaire Syndicate Romance

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Beg Me: A Billionaire Syndicate Romance Page 8

by Penelope Woods


  “That’s what we do. We fuck our men and then we kill them,” I joke. “I’m like a black widow.”

  I put the rest of my clothes back on and watch him practically whimper with dissatisfaction.

  I could stay, and we could fuck for hours, but it’s better this way. I can’t grow too attached. Being here feels way too comfortable, like I’m at my other home or something.

  That is not a good sign.

  I need to reclaim my independence, and the first step to doing that is leaving for the day.

  “I’ll text you,” I tell him.

  “Call me instead,” he says, leaning against his doorway.

  His pelvic muscles beam straight at me. For a split second, I get it in my head that maybe I can stay, just for one more “negotiation.”

  I quickly dismiss that idea and grab my purse.

  He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his naked body. His cologne fills my senses, and I’m reeling from him.

  I won’t be able to let this go. I know it. He’s just the combination of everything right and wrong.

  He kisses me one last time.

  “Okay,” I say, pulling my lips away from his.

  Our tongues slide apart, and he smiles big. He winks, and I nearly fall to pieces.

  “I have to go. Bye, lovely,” I whisper.

  Lovely? Did I really just say that? Oh, God…

  “Bye, darling,” he says, looking way too hot and way too smug.

  Ugh.

  Now what?

  Madison

  Despite my feelings on the predicament, Dasha is thrilled.

  “I can’t believe it’s gone on this long,” she says.

  Her daughter, Holly, screams. She jumps off her couch onto the tile floor. “Mommy, look!”

  “That’s great, honey!” she says, faking excitement.

  “I don’t know what’s even happening with it, to be honest,” I admit. “It all seems like such a fantasy. I keep thinking I’ll wake up, that this will all be some crazy dream I had.”

  “It’s not a dream, babe,” she says. “This is the real deal. You’ve found one crazy guy.”

  “Ugh, why me?” I fall back into her chair and groan.

  “Because you’re hot,” she says. “And you’ve got big tits.”

  “That’s why?” I eye her, annoyed. “Not because of my big brain?”

  “So you’ve got both. What’s the big deal?” she asks, laughing. “Look, you should be thanking me. I set you up with this mad man. Now you’ve got the hottest guy in all of Michigan coming after you at all times.”

  At that moment, my phone vibrates. It’s like clockwork. It moves across the living room table. I grab it and look at the screen.

  I smile. “It’s him.”

  “Answer it!” she squeals.

  “Hell no,” I say. “I’m not about to go down that road with you here.”

  The phone stops ringing, but it doesn’t take long for him to shoot me a text. I look down at the screen and it’s a…it’s…

  “Oh my God,” Dasha exclaims. “Is that his cock?”

  “No,” I shout, shielding the phone. “You’re mistaken. It’s um. It’s a selfie. He sends me those from time to time.”

  “Madison, you’re crazy if you think I’m going to believe that lie,” she says. “My daughter hides things from me every fucking day, and she’s much better at it than you.”

  I groan and put my face into my hands. Any attempt at blocking out the world right now helps.

  “What is even happening?” I ask.

  She grabs the phone out of my hands, laughing gleefully, and clicks open the picture. “Do not!” I scream, but she doesn’t care.

  She hops out of her seat and runs off to the kitchen, laughing.

  “Holy shit,” she says.

  “Mommy?” Holly asks.

  “Hey, Holly, honey. Can you go play outside for a little bit?” she asks.

  If she only knew what grown-ups do on their off days. They drink mimosas and giggle about their man’s cock. I mean, really, what is better than that?

  “Okay, Mom,” she says, barely listening. She grabs her dolls and runs outside.

  Dasha turns to me. Her jaw drops open, and her eyes turn big. “You let him put that thing inside you?” she asks. “It’s…it’s…it’s beautiful.”

  I nod, a little proud of my catch. “It’s a real work of art,” I say. “And yes, he put that thing inside me. Over and over, and over again. Don’t knock it till you try it, Dash.”

  “I’m not knocking it, girl. Do you mind if I hang this on my wall? I’m going to run to the printer and blow it up. Everyone needs to see just who is porking my best friend,” she says.

  “Ew. Please don’t ever use the word porking in reference to sex ever again.” I laugh, reaching out for my phone. “Give it back. I have to reply now.”

  The phone vibrates in Dasha’s hands. “Wait, he just asked if you miss it?”

  “Do you miss it?” I repeat his words. “Fuck. I’m doomed. I’m so doomed. This is so weird. Give me back my phone, Dasha!”

  “Don’t worry.” She laughs, moving further away from me, transfixed by my phone. “I won’t let you down. I’ll reply for you.”

  “No!”

  I jump out of my seat. Suddenly, we’re back in middle school, chasing each other around the house because of some boy. Only this guy isn’t some boy. He’s a man with a massive cock. And yes, I do love it.

  I grab the phone but it’s too late. The damage is done. I look at the shining screen and it reads, “I need that thing deep inside my throat.”

  “Very classy, Dasha. God,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Oh, come on,” she says, out of breath and proud of herself. “It’s funny! Plus, I bet you tell him that stuff all of the time.”

  “I do not,” I lie.

  She knows I’m a deviant woman. I mean, aren’t we all? On the surface, we like to pretend we’re good girls, like we’re all princesses who deserve the crown. Deep down, we’re all nymphomaniacs.

  Dasha knows it. I know it.

  “Okay, fine. This man has definitely evoked the inner freak in me,” I admit.

  “Whatever happened with the panties?” she asks. “Does he still have them?”

  I snort. “You don’t even want to know.”

  “No, I really do. I need to know, Madison. I haven’t gotten laid in like a year. I have a daughter that acts as the world’s best cock-block. You’d think you would have some natural empathy for me, or something,” she says, frowning.

  The phone vibrates in my hand, and I immediately click it open, shielding it from her. She glances over my shoulder regardless.

  The text reads:

  “When can I see you next? I need you in my office elevator. By the time I’m through with you, you won’t be able to walk straight.”

  “Whoa,” Dasha says, swallowing loudly. “Did he really just say that?”

  “Uh, yeah.” I smile awkwardly. “He’s, uh, one of a kind.”

  “Now I’m just jealous,” she says.

  “Fine, I’ll tell you what happened with the panties,” I say, throwing the phone into my purse.

  She perks up. “You will?”

  It’s like telling a child you’re taking them to get ice cream. I swear, she’s that sex deprived.

  “Yes,” I laugh. “Sit down and calm yourself, lady!”

  She sits on the couch and crosses her legs. “I’ll be good, I swear.”

  “So, he pretended we were having a meeting at his office,” I start the story. “And he—”

  She interrupts. “Wait, you’ve been to his office?”

  “Yeah, so what? What’s the big deal?” I ask her. “Stop interrupting.”

  “I’m sorry, but you must really like this guy.” She smiles and scrunches her nose.

  Okay, now she’s really annoying me.

  “I don’t like the guy. He’s fun. And I enjoy the risk,” I tell her. “That’s all it is.”


  “Mmhm.”

  I can tell she doesn’t believe me.

  “Okay, fine. Tell me what happened. I want to hear everything,” she says.

  I hate this vicarious, living-through-you, crap. But she’s got a point. She’s a single mother. It’s hard to find a good man when that’s your situation. I know she’ll find it someday. In the meantime, I’ll have to live with telling her detailed stories of my hardcore sex life.

  “So, he locks his office door. He picks up my whole body and sets me on his desk.” I smile.

  Her eyes grow bigger. Her cheeks turn flush.

  “…And he actually fucked me against his window.”

  “In front of everyone below?” she exclaims. “Wow, Madison. What if someone saw?”

  I laugh. “That’s what made it so hot, you know? The entire time I was wondering if everyone in the office could hear me screaming. When I left, my hair was a mess, and I’m pretty sure my skin was covered in his sweat.”

  “You slut,” she shouts. “I’m too jealous of you. And the panties? He still has those for his own sick and twisted pleasure?”

  I laugh and awkwardly tap my feet. “Well, I cleaned myself up with them and threw them on his desk. I told him to keep them,” I tell her.

  She slaps her thigh loudly. “You are insane. Wow, I love you. You need to text him back. Like, now.”

  “Fine, I will.”

  I sigh and read his last text over again. Then I reply:

  “How about tomorrow? Think you can wait that long?”

  Dasha is hunched over my shoulder watching me type out every word. She kisses my cheek with excitement when I hit send.

  “You’re going to marry this psycho. You know that, right?” she asks, as if she’s some sort of soothsayer matchmaker hybrid now.

  “I am definitely not marrying Rocco,” I tell her. “That would be insane. We’ll probably fuck a few more times and that’ll be it.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” she says. “He’s really in love with you. He’d probably sell his entire company to be with you.”

  “Ugh, that reminds me. Byron is totally freaking out over him. He thinks I’m sleeping with the enemy. He actually told me that,” I say, feeling a sense of dread creep inside me.

  “Well, you kind of are, right?” she asks. “I mean, he’s the biggest hotel development company next to your father’s.”

  “I guess, but it’s not like that. Rocco wouldn’t use me for financial gain,” I say. “At least, I don’t think he would.”

  The thought makes me sick.

  “He wouldn’t,” she says. “He loves you too much.”

  “Shut up,” I squeal.

  I really hope she’s not right. Love is not something I bargained for. Love is hell. Love is working through your shit, over and over, on a daily basis. It means having kids and settling down, and doing basically what Dasha is doing, except there’s an aging man around at all times.

  All in all, it means less sex and less fun.

  I’m not in love. I’m just having fun.

  A girl can do that, right?

  Rocco

  Two days later, I’m still fucking hooked. The woman is like crack.

  The first few times you fuck, you think to yourself, “I can do this. I can manage.”

  Then reality smacks you right in the dick. Soon enough, you’re fucking on the back porch, thinking to yourself, “Did I die and go to heaven?”

  Then you’re alone. You have to deal with the silence, the lack of pussy, forced to breathe the stale air of your home.

  I have to pour myself into my work to really stop thinking about her. Even then, I’m stuck in the office we fucked inside.

  It doesn’t help.

  She texts me again. I’m starting to hate my phone. The barrier is too difficult to square with.

  “You ready for our little appointment today?”

  I laugh.

  “See you at twelve. Wear your hottest lingerie. If you don’t have any, buy the best you can find. I’ll get you back. My treat.”

  I close my phone and leave the office for a few hours. I can’t deal with these meetings anymore. We’re losing money each year and now we’re scrambling for ways to make it better.

  All things point to one thing: we’re going to have to merge with someone, and everyone in the company wants to buy out the Napolitano Hotel chain.

  This puts me in a bind.

  I’m fucking the daughter of the company. And now Byron is the head of all operations.

  This isn’t good.

  Word in the sector is that he’s growing paranoid and angry. After all, he’s basically still Syndicate. It was going to come out sooner or later.

  I head to the park down the way. A little greenery to clear my mind.

  When I head down to the lake, I stop and watch the ducks float and dive for food. It’s calming. There’s not very many people out and the weather is perfect. Everything seems to be going fairly well this morning. At least, it does for a little bit.

  Until…

  A groggy voice interrupts my moment of Zen. “Mr. Morelli. What a pleasant surprise. Do you come here often?”

  I turn. To my surprise and dismay, it’s Byron.

  He walks toward the lake, gold chains glittering in the sunlight.

  “Byron, right?” I ask. “Good to finally meet you. I’m a big fan of your company’s work.”

  “Thank you.” He smiles, revealing a gold tooth. He takes a deep breath and looks around the park. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The things humans can make.”

  “Nature is beautiful,” I reply, unable to see what he’s getting at.

  “Don’t kid yourself, Mr. Morelli. This was all made by man. Nature isn’t so kind. Look at the chaos in the Amazon. Imagine if we were all still living in that jungle. You might wake up torn to bits by a jaguar.”

  “I guess you’re right,” I say.

  All I want is to get back into my office. I didn’t expect to run into this asshole.

  He continues, despite my lack of attention. “Lucky for me, I get to go home every night. I don’t have to live in a hut in the jungle.”

  What is this guy getting at? What’s with all the fucking riddles?

  “Right,” I say.

  He sighs, throwing his arm around my shoulder, bringing me in tight. “Don’t worry. I won’t waste your time much longer.”

  To this day, I still carry a knife on me. I think about my options. He’s trying to get under my skin. If I just stay calm, everything will be all right. If he does try to do something I can always reach inside my coat pocket and grab my blade.

  “I know what you’re up to,” he says. “I know why you’ve been hanging around Madison lately.”

  “Excuse me?” I mutter.

  “Don’t kid around,” he says.

  “I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” I say.

  “It is my business. The Napolitano Hotel chain is my livelihood.”

  He scowls and squeezes my neck hard enough for me to feel alarmed. I push him off, and he lets go, laughing.

  “Don’t be so uptight,” he says.

  “I don’t want anything to do with your hotel chain, Byron. I don’t give two shits about your business. Just stay away from me and leave Madison alone,” I tell him, fixing my shirt collar.

  “We’ll see about that, friend,” he says.

  He walks away, headed toward a parked car. Two men dressed in suits, open the door.

  This is some shady business.

  Byron is almost back to the car when he turns back around and yells, “Watch your back, Rocco. It’s a jungle out there. You never know when you’re about to get torn to bits.”

  When twelve o’clock hits, I’m pacing around the front of my office.

  In the matter of just a few hours, the stakes have increased dramatically. What’s my next plan of action?

  I should tell Madison about Byron. On the other hand, I don’t want to make her any more w
orried than she already is. If I’m being honest with myself, I don’t want to end this just yet. I’m still having fun.

  I decide to keep it a secret. It’s not my smartest plan, but I need some time to figure out a better course of action.

  Hurriedly, I walk to my office door, ignoring my secretary when she says, “Before you go into your office, there’s someone—”

  I close the door loudly and lock it. The only person I want disturbing me today is Madison. Anyone else can just leave me the hell alone.

  “There you are,” her voice whispers in my ear.

  Her lips fall gently on my lobe. She kisses lightly, sliding her tongue across the delicate skin.

  “I’ve been waiting for almost twenty minutes. I didn’t know if you’d come or not,” she says.

  I turn and face her. Instinctually, my hands fall to her waist. I feel her flesh against my palm and all is right again in the world.

  When I see her, when I actually see her, she’s completely naked.

  “Holy shit,” I mutter with a smile creeping onto my face. “God, I’ve missed this body.”

  She’s lucky my secretary didn’t see.

  My hands rise to her breasts, and I have to kiss each one like they’re gifts from God. “Where’s that elevator?” she asks.

  “You’re naked.”

  I laugh and kiss her. Her warm lips wrap around mine, and I quickly breathe in her scent. Endorphins rush through my body.

  I feel like I’m floating.

  “Am I?” She giggles. “I wasn’t aware.”

  “What do you expect me to do? Shield you? My secretary will see,” I tell her.

  I’m not protesting. I just really want her to find a safe way into that elevator.

  She pushes her butt onto my desk and sliding all of the documents off the edge. “Wait for it,” she says.

  If she wasn’t so fucking hot, I’d be pissed. But she can get away with anything.

  Suddenly, the fire alarm goes off.

  I walk to my office window and look past the blinds. Everyone in the office drops their things and starts heading to the front lawn.

 

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