by Cole, Cassie
Lexa opened her mouth to moan, leaning back onto her elbows on the counter. Her pussy was pure bliss as I moved, thumping into her steadily. There was no controlling my speed in this dream; we both knew it had to be fast, lest someone walk in on us.
But that was just fine. Fast was how I wanted it.
I cupped her face and she grabbed my hand, holding it to her while I pumped inside. “Harder,” she demanded, and I obliged with all the strength my legs could give. Each thrust made a thumping noise on the hollow desk, growing louder with each stroke. Harder, and faster, while she clutched my hand and moaned from across the space, her lower lips tightening around my shaft as I felt the tingling ecstasy that meant I was about to come…
I woke to the same thumping noise in the darkness.
I opened my eyes and came face-to-face with the wall. The thumping sound was accompanied by a mechanical hum, like a speedy belt. I rolled over slowly, almost afraid of what I would find.
It was obvious once I saw it: a figure jogging on the treadmill on the other side of the room, each step sending a shuddering sound through the moving belt. But I was still confused even once I realized what it was.
“What the hell?”
“Ahh!” Lexa yelled, half-turning toward me. The motion made her right foot plant on the motionless edge of the treadmill, which caused her next step to falter on the belt, and she fell flat on her face before being flung backwards off the machine.
“Shit!” I sprung from bed and ran to her, flipping on the lights as I did. She was on her back, hair spread all over her face like a frayed broom. She was wearing grey booty shorts which clung to her thighs and hips like they were painted on, and a sports bra which pressed her breasts flat. After my dream, it was difficult to keep my attention focused on her face.
“Are you okay?”
With her eyes closed, she winced and grabbed her knee. “I think so. Jesus, you scared me. What are you doing down here?”
“What kind of a question is that? I was sleeping.”
She blinked and took a good look at me: shirtless, with only tight boxer-briefs on. That’s when I realized I still had a huge hard-on from my dream. It pressed against the cloth like a ferret trying to escape a plastic bag. It was impossible she didn’t notice.
After a long, pregnant stare, her eyes returned to my face and stayed there. “I thought you were sleeping upstairs, in a real bed.”
Still crouching—because rising would only make my hardness more obvious—I put my hands in my lap to cover myself. “The futon smelled like Kai, so I came down here. You would’ve noticed if you had turned the lights on.”
“I like to jog in the semi-darkness. It’s meditative.”
“And dangerous,” I added.
She pushed herself into a sitting position. I took the opportunity to retreat a few steps and sit on the mattress, casually pulling the blanket over my crotch. Fuck, why do I feel so embarrassed about a hard-on?
Because that hard-on was just inside Lexa, in my dream, was the obvious answer.
“Sorry for the rude awakening,” she said. “I’ll let you get back to sleep.”
“Nah, might as well get up,” I said. “Finish your workout.”
She stood and her knee buckled, though it still bore her weight. “This only feels like a bruise, but I’m not gunna be able to finish my run. Seriously, you stay. I’ll leave you alone.”
I got a great view of her perfectly round ass in the tight booty shorts as she limped toward the door, then disappeared.
Somehow, watching her curvy shape made me even harder than my sex dream.
26
Lexa
I wasn’t the kind of girl to leer at a guy’s junk. Lord knows that as a woman I got enough of that on the other end, so I understood how annoying it could be.
But dang.
How was I supposed to look at anything other than the huge bulge in his boxer-briefs? It was only inches away from my face when I’d opened my eyes, thick and round. My eyes locked onto it like a magnet, and darned if I could look away. I stared for an embarrassingly long amount of time. Long enough that he noticed.
I didn’t blame him for not helping me through the door and up the stairs.
I hadn’t been attracted to Jason since he arrived. He had an abrasive personality, which overruled his cute face and ripped body. He just didn’t do it for me the way the others did.
But after seeing him like that…
As I returned to my bedroom, I wanted to slap myself. Was that all it took to generate feelings for a guy? Seeing his junk like that? It made me no better than a guy who was attracted solely to a big pair of tits. I wasn’t that superficial.
I turned the shower on. Maybe I should take a cold one, but the thought of the freezing water against my skin was too much to bear.
As I let the hot water relax my body—and my throbbing knee—I wondered if my new-found attraction had to do with what I learned last night. That they had shared a girlfriend before, and wanted to do it again. Maybe that had thrust the idea of being with Jason into the forefront of my mind.
Whether it was true or not, believing that was better than accepting that the mere sight of the outline of his erection could make me feel so tingly.
I made my normal breakfast of oatmeal and honey. It felt inadequate after having Kai spoil me yesterday. That was a luxury a girl could get used to. Kai to make me breakfast, Jason to buy me lunch. Tex to play chess with…
Holy potatoes. Am I actually considering this?
I reflexively bucked against the idea. It was still too crazy. Four guys sharing one girl? Yeah right.
But I’m already halfway there.
I flexed my leg, testing the pain. It wasn’t bad enough to keep me from walking to work, and by the time I got there it felt pretty good.
There weren’t as many documents on the courier stack this morning, which made me sad. I was hoping to get more than normal to help take my mind off what had happened—both this morning and last night. “I’ll just have to take my time,” I said out loud in the empty lobby.
It started normally: opening the first pack of papers and transcribing them to a new document. The editing part of my brain taking over, rearranging and fixing and deleting almost automatically. Yet as I worked, I could hear Jason’s words in my head: you ever see anything unusual?
Today was different. I knew more than I had before: the four guys were actively looking for evidence against Blackrock. They claimed Blackrock bribed other auditors and encouraged their employees—or contractors—to skip normal safety procedures in order to save time and money. It wasn’t a light accusation.
It was with that in mind that I read each document a little more closely. More than just ensuring they were clear and concise: I absorbed what they said. One letter was instructing a contractor team to replace all their riveting equipment with newer, safer models which were en-route. Another had to do with site renovation time. One big stack of documents, for a completely new drill site about to be constructed, made it very clear that the build timeline was of lesser importance than ensuring all documented procedures were carefully followed—including making sure no workers took back-to-back shifts on a lack of sleep.
As I read the cover letters, it seemed like Blackrock was on the up-and-up. If anything, they were prioritizing safety rather than avoiding it. Unless it was opposite day.
But a skeptical thought crossed my mind: what if this is all damage control?
If they knew they were being scrutinized for their past safety lapses, they would want to do everything in their power to lay low. To throw inspectors or auditors off their scent. Heck, even if they had a spotless record they would want to appear as compliant as possible during a safety audit. That was just common sense.
There were too many possibilities, too many explanations. I wasn’t sure what to believe.
Having said that, Tex was right about one thing: Blackrock Energy had a very hands-on relationship with its contractors. Bey
ond the cover letters, the instructions provided on equipment and site construction were incredibly detailed. Page after page of explicit steps to take for every single process, even for things as mundane as fence height and storage tank paint.
But did that prove what Tex and the others believed?
The desk phone rang around mid-morning. I grabbed it without taking my eyes off the document I had open and said, “Good morning, this is Blackrock Energy. How may I direct your call?”
Bryson’s throaty laugh came out the receiver. “You don’t have to use the line when someone internal calls. You’re not trying to impress me, are you?”
“Honestly? I was so busy with the cover letters I didn’t even look at who was calling!”
“That’s the kind of focus I like to see,” he said. “Can you pull up my calendar for the day? Do I have anything scheduled at noon?”
“One second…” I clicked over to Outlook and switched to the shared mailboxes. “Nope, you’re free from noon until 3:00.”
“Perfect. I’ve got a lunch meeting I want to duck out for. Block me off from noon to 1:30?”
“Done.”
“You’re the best!”
“If only all bosses were so easily impressed,” I teased.
I got back into a groove with the cover letters, casually checking the other documents for each one. There wasn’t anything remotely suspicious, let alone illegal or immoral. I wondered what Tex and Jason would think if I told them so. No, I knew exactly how they would react: they would buy into the theory that Blackrock was on their best behavior, and that it wasn’t how they normally operated.
Bryson came down right at noon. “I’m surprised to see you running late,” I said.
He frowned. “Late?”
“If your lunch meeting is at noon, and you’re just now leaving…”
“Oh, I’m not late. My lunch meeting is with you. Think you can leave the desk for an hour or so? Or is your boss an uptight asshole?” He smiled.
I covered my shock by rolling my eyes. “Oh, he’s the worst. Can’t stand the guy.”
“Shame.”
I followed him outside. The sun was shining, making it comfortable enough to not need a coat. I took a moment to savor the warmth on my face and said, “What’s the occasion?”
“Oh, nothing in particular. I just didn’t want to eat lunch alone.”
We walked three blocks to a hole in the wall place called Shaw’s. Bryson strode inside without saying anything to the hostess. I followed as he wound his way through the restaurant to a booth in the back corner.
“You act like you own the place,” I said. Then: “Wait. You don’t own this place, do you?”
He laughed. “I assure you my interests lie exclusively with the oil and gas business. Restaurants and bars are too complicated.”
“And a drilling company isn’t?”
“Hell no. What we do is simple. With restaurants, you’re at the whim of customers.” He shuddered to show what he thought of that.
“You must come here often then,” I said.
“Not really.”
A waitress was at our booth quickly. “Happy Friday, Milton! The usual?”
“Of course, Amanda.” He nodded at me. “She’ll have the same.”
“And to drink?”
It was all happening very quickly. “Uhh, water’s fine.”
“Two Bryson specials, coming right up!”
I watched the waitress leave. Bryson looked at me and said, “Okay, so maybe I do come here often.”
“Do I want to ask what a Bryson special is?”
“Chicken salad salad,” he said. “Their normal house salad with their special chicken salad on top. It’s not on the menu.”
“What if I don’t like chicken salad?” I asked.
“Who doesn’t like chicken salad?”
I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered that he was taking me out to lunch and ordered something I would love, or offended that he’d placed the order without even asking me. What was this, 1960?
“Chicken salad is one of my favorites,” I admitted.
“Excellent.” He put one arm across his end of the booth, his blue eyes regarding me calmly. “I like to take all new employees out to lunch when they start. A man or woman ought to know who it is that signs their paychecks.”
“Technically, you don’t sign my paychecks,” I pointed out. “Unless this is your way of telling me that new job is mine?”
I felt a tightness of hope in my chest as I said the words because they sounded true. He was taking me to lunch to formally offer the job. But he only shrugged.
“Not yet, sadly. For budget reasons I can’t create a new role until after the auditors are gone.”
Now my chest tightened for a different reason. “What do they have to do with it?”
He waved a hand. “Depends on what they find. If they give us an unfavorable audit, or if they find areas that could be improved, it means blowing the rest of this quarter’s budget to get back on track. Not to mention if we get fine…”
“I see.”
His eyes scanned beyond me, searching the restaurant. From this booth he could see everyone who came and went, or anyone who got close enough to overhear our conversation.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said quietly, still not looking at me. “I’ve heard rumors those four auditors are corrupt.”
“Corrupt?”
“That they take bribes, or aren’t who they say they are. See, I pulled some strings to get their background information. Turns out they’ve done a lot of work for some of my competitors. What if they’ve been paid off?”
“Don’t bribes usually get people to look the other way?” I said, hoping the joke would derail this uncomfortable situation.
“Bribes can work however the briber wants them to,” he said with a little too much familiarity. “If one of my competitors wanted to sink me with unfavorable audit reviews, now would be the time to do it. There’s a lot of attention on Blackrock Energy right now.”
“Because of the accident?” I asked.
His eyes stopped scanning the room and locked onto mine. “What accident?”
Crap. Was what Tex had told me not public knowledge? Thinking fast, I said, “I heard two employees talking about it on their way to lunch the other day. An explosion or something? I didn’t think much of it—I know this is a dangerous industry.”
My excuse seemed to satisfy him. “Something like that, yeah. In any case, this would be the perfect time for my competitors to draw their daggers. Pay one of the companies auditing me to dig up as much as they could, or even outright fabricate damaging information! Then the auditors pretend to be whistleblowers, and anonymously report these fraudulent findings to the government…”
“That sounds awful,” I said. “Maybe they’re just really thorough safety auditors? They want to give you as much bang for your buck?”
“Then explain the note,” he said. “The note you passed them on the first day. What could that possibly mean?”
The waitress reappeared to drop off our waters, giving me a moment to collect myself. He’s not accusing me. He’s just asking me to think of a plausible reason.
It still felt like an accusation. Especially since the note was from me.
I considered telling him the truth. That I’d slept with Cas a month before, and was terrified that he would ruin my chances at this new job if I didn’t warn him not to tell anyone. It would satisfy his suspicions, and throw him off the scent of the four guys staying at my condo.
Yet as much sense as that action made, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. Especially now that a real job was on the line.
And since I’d slept with Cas again. And Tex.
Crap.
“I can’t explain the note,” I said. It made me feel like a coward.
“Me neither,” he agreed. “So I have to assume the worst: that it’s something out to get us. It makes sense, in a Game Theory sort of way.”
&nbs
p; I nodded along even though I didn’t know what that was.
“I just wish there were a way to know for sure,” he said gloomily. “To set everything straight so I could relax, rather than spending all day worrying about what those four are cooking up.”
“If only life were that simple,” I said, hoping that would end the discussion. Instead, he leaned across the table toward me.
“There is a way. The four of them live with you. Maybe you could see if you could find any evidence of what they’re really after?”
“You… You’ve already asked me to be on the look-out for anything suspicious,” I said. “What else could I do?”
“Do they work on laptops?” he said. “What about cell phones?”
“I wouldn’t want to get caught snooping in their things,” I said carefully.
“Surely they leave them around the house. All you’d have to do is take a peek. See what you find. Right?”
“I don’t know…”
“Hey, listen,” he quickly said. “I’m not suggesting you do anything illegal. I would never request something like that of any of my employees at any level. But… Oh, I don’t know. If they leave their laptop open? Or if their cell phone is sitting on the table and you just happen to scroll through their contacts? Something like that would be helpful.”
I wanted to point out that what he was asking of me probably was illegal, but there was no way for me to do that tactfully. He was acting like this was all just a simple request. As easy as blocking off his calendar for a lunch meeting.
“If you’re suspicious,” I said, “why not fire them? You’re the one who accepted their bid for the auditing contract. Surely you can scrap it and get someone else.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth I desperately wished I could recall them. If Bryson fired Cas and the others, they would go back to Fargo. They would leave my condo and I would never see them again.
How could I possibly suggest they leave? Especially now that things were heating up?
Thankfully Bryson shook his head. “Tempting, but we would have to eat the cost of the contract. Plus, that would still leave me wondering if they were working for a competitor. I want to know for certain! Otherwise I’ll be paranoid about the next auditing team we hire, and the next.”