by J. L. Leslie
Cameron bends me slightly forward and I feel his other fingers massaging my asshole. I tense.
“It’s okay, baby. Trust me. Relax.” he encourages.
The fingers he has in my pussy continue to stroke me and are bringing me close to orgasm. He circles my asshole, massaging it with the lube. I hear the rip of foil and the hand that was massaging my ass is gone.
“Tell me if you want me to stop. Just say red.”
His thumb presses into my clit and I explode. I mumble incoherent words, soaking his fingers with my juices. He removes his hands and picks up the lube again.
He kisses my shoulders as I try to catch my breath. I feel his cock against my backside. The condom covering it is slippery and wet. He urges me to bend over more. I press my hands into the bed and push my ass against him.
Cameron slowly starts to push his cock inside my ass. I gasp and look over my shoulder. His gaze is fixated on me. His hand reaches around and massages my clit as he gently eases into me. He moves slowly and gently, letting me get used to the sensation of him being in that area. He glides in some more, slowly filling my ass with his cock.
He dips his fingers inside me and then cups my breast with his other hand.
I’m so overwhelmed with pleasure I can barely breathe.
“Fuck…Memphis…you’re incredible.” he moans, his cock moving in a perfect rhythm with his fingers. I should’ve told him no. I should’ve told him not to take me this way, but I didn’t. Now he’s had every part of me. I don’t know that I’ll ever get it back.
“I’m so close, Cameron…so close…” I mumble. “Feels so good…oh my…” “Yes…”
We explode together, riding the pinnacle of pleasure until it’s over. He eases out of me just as slowly as he eased in. He ties the condom off and tosses it in the garbage by the bed.
He crawls into the bed, his arm curving around my waist and urging me to join him.
“I still have a few more hours with you.”
Cameron
I lazily stroke my hand over Memphis’s back. I’m not sure why I’m hesitating on letting her leave. We’ve fucked and now she’s supposed to go home. That’s our routine. Now our routine is over. Our thirty days together are up.
Her money is sitting in an envelope in the top drawer of my dresser. I just need to give it to her and let her leave. But I’m hesitating.
I want to know more about her. Not just every contour and curve of her body.
I know all of those. I want to know her.
I want to know if the things she said about her mother are true. Did she just abandon her and her sister? Did she just leave them for Memphis to take care of them?
I want to know what made her start stripping at nineteen. Where was her dad? Didn’t she have other family to help her?
“I don’t think you should take the job working for my father. I can help you get another job.”
She rolls over and faces me. Her brow is furrowed. She’s angry. Not really the reaction I was going for. I want to help her and working for my father wouldn’t be helping her. He’ll just try to take advantage of her. Like I’ve been doing.
“Why not?”
“I just…I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
She sits up and eases off the side of the bed. “I need the job, Cameron. I don’t plan on being a stripper for the rest of my life.”
I sit up beside her and plant a kiss on her shoulder. She’s still tense.
“I’ll help you get another job, Memphis. My father isn’t a good man. You don’t want to work for him. Trust me.”
“I’ve worked for a lot of men that weren’t good.” she says, giving me a pointed look. Point taken. “I do what I have to do.”
She stands up and grabs her panties. I don’t try to stop her as she pulls them on. I’d wanted her to stay longer, but I can see that’s not going to happen. She’s angry and defensive. I know she won’t listen to anything I have to say at this point even though I have her best interest in mind.
I start getting dressed as she walks out of my room. When she comes back in, she’s fully dressed. She’s completely closed herself off to me.
“Where’s my money?” she asks with her arms crossed.
“Are you ready to leave?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Yep. Gimme my money.”
“Who’s treating who like a whore now?” I ask, angrily. I walk over to my dresser and pull her envelope out.
“Cut the shit, Cameron. You don’t want me working for your father because you don’t think I’m good enough for that job.”
I shake my head. “Believe what you want. Here’s your money. You’re a great fuck.”
Chapter 14
Memphis
I fidget with my skirt and then my blouse. I hope it looks nice. Blake assured me it did. I’m grateful she helped me shop for some business clothes and none of them were out of my price range. As soon as Cameron told me his father wanted me to work for him and we’d fixed my resume, I’d left his office and then asked to speak to Blake. I owned absolutely no appropriate business attire and informed her I couldn’t afford high-end clothes. I needed to look like I did though. She was perfect.
I step off the elevator and hold my head high, wanting to look like I have the confidence I don’t feel. I was told a woman named Sharon would be training me so I walk to the desk and explain who I am and who I’m here for. I can do this job. I’ve repeated this mantra over and over in my head all weekend. Even through my tears.
“Ms. Stone.” a booming voice sounds behind me. “So glad to have you working for me.”
I turn to see Cameron’s father walking out of his office. The woman who accompanied him to the Barr dinner is walking beside him adjusting her skirt. Her lipstick is a little smeared, but I don’t comment. She’s doing what she has to do just like I am.
“Mr. Morgan, it’s nice to see you again. I appreciate the opportunity you’ve given me. Sharon is just about to start training me now.”
“She’ll take wonderful care of you. First, I’ll give you a tour.” he turns to the woman and dismisses her with a kiss on her cheek. “Right this way, Ms. Stone.”
I fall into step beside him and pay attention as we walk. Apparently his office is the only one on the top floor. There are conference rooms and a large kitchen and breakroom area, but no other offices. We take the elevator to the floor below. I know this floor holds Cameron and Blake’s offices. We stop by hers first and she greets me with a hug. Her boyfriend, Langston, is with her. I shake his hand and let him know it’s good to see him again.
“Don’t let him keep you from doing your work, Blake.” Mr. Morgan says, sternly.
He chuckles as we walk out. “I have to keep my eye on her.” he says in a teasing tone.
He introduces me to the other partners, Patrick Quinley and Darren Sloan, then he opens the door to Cameron’s office. I notice the annoyed look on his face almost immediately. His desk is covered in papers and a hand is shoved in his hair.
“I’m just showing Ms. Stone around, son.”
“I’m busy.” Cameron quips and looks back down at his file.
“I’ll be just a minute.” Mr. Morgan explains and closes the door.
I wait outside Cameron’s office. Whatever the two of them are saying is muffled behind the door. When it’s opened, Cameron is standing with his arms crossed, eyes set in a hard stare. Mr. Morgan walks out smiling. I glance over my shoulder as we walk away and Cameron’s arms drop to his side, his blue eyes fixated on me. I look away. I’ll get lost if I look too long.
We finish walking this floor and then I’m introduced to all the paralegals and assistants on the floor below. When we return to the top floor, Sharon begins her training and Mr. Morgan returns to his office.
Sharon is a nice, elderly lady in her early sixties. She takes her time showing me where the mailroom is and where to fix Mr. Morgan’s coffee. She shows me even though she assures me she will still be handling the mail an
d coffee. She just wanted me to know in case I had to take care of it one day.
We move on to the computer program and filing. She’s very thorough in her training so I pick up on everything pretty easily. I’m relieved. For some reason, I feel the need to prove not only to myself, but to Cameron, that I can do this job. I need the money, but I need to know that I’m capable as well. I’m not just a stripper…or a whore.
Cameron
I walk into the breakroom and open the fridge. I pull out a bottled water and start to head back to my office, but the conversation I hear makes me hesitate.
“Did you see his new assistant? Wonder if she’s single.”
I turn and see Anthony Port and Will Singleton standing at the coffee pot. The two of them are waiting for a fresh pot of coffee to brew. Both have been at the firm about a year longer than me. They nod in my direction and I nod in return.
“I’m not wasting any time finding out.” Anthony smirks.
I walk out of the breakroom and take the elevator back down to my office. The urge to tell them both she was with me was right at the back of my throat. I couldn’t do that though. It wasn’t true. We aren’t together. We never really were. I just bought her for a while. Anthony Port. What a douche.
The telltale sign of an instant message pings from my computer and I open it up. The name ‘M. Stone’ appears beside her tiny profile picture. I frown at the dialogue box.
- Mr. Bryant Morgan requests your presence for a client lunch tomorrow at noon. Please confirm.
What is he up to? We never work cases together. He knows I’m working on the Beasley case. What could he possibly need me for?
- Tell Mr. Bryant Morgan to eat shit.
I smile at my response. I know it’s a little childish, but satisfying all the same.
When the instant message pings again, I laugh out loud at Memphis’s response.
- Mr. Bryant Morgan says he does not wish to eat shit, but roasted duck and potatoes cooked in a delicious wine sauce at Manganello’s tomorrow at noon. Please confirm.
I make her wait a good fifteen minutes before I confirm. I know my father won’t take no for an answer when it comes to business anyway. There’s not very many things he will take no for an answer on. He always seems to get his way.
Chapter 15
Memphis
“Not bad for a Tuesday night.” Leah comments, counting her money. She plops down in the vanity chair and tucks her money in her bra.
“Yeah.” I agree. I tug off the wig I’m wearing and start changing clothes.
“Tell me again why you’re still working here.” she says.
“I only stayed on part-time. I need the money. You know that.”
“You have a damn good job now. You don’t have to keep doing this.” she tells me.
“Neither do you.” I retort.
“I do this job because I want to. I actually like it.” she reminds me. “There’s a
difference.”
“Well, I do it because I have to. At least until Anniston graduates or I’ve saved enough to pay for her to graduate.”
Stacy walks in and puts a stop to our conversation. “I just found out where Mindy’s been.” she whispers. “Locked up for prostitution.”
“No shit?” Leah asks, eyes wide.
“Yep. Apparently she got caught in the back of the car with that man she went home with last week. He started crying like a fucking baby. Told the officer everything. They both went to jail, but he was some big-time realtor. He got out almost immediately. She’s got court and everything.”
“I think you guys should lay low for a while. What if police start coming here trying to catch other girls?” I suggest.
“Yeah maybe we should only do guys that are previous customers.” Stacy
says.
“Or stop for a while.” I say, firmly. I know I can make this suggestion, but the
two of them will do whatever they want anyway. They’re both stubborn and bullheaded.
“I’m headed out. Be careful.” I warn them.
I take a cab home and try not to think about what happened with Mindy and the possibility of that happening with Leah or Stacy.
When I get home, I shower and climb into bed. It’s after two a.m. and I have to be at work at Morgan, Quinley, and Sloan at eight o’clock.
My alarm clock goes off and I wish I could just keep hitting snooze. Better yet, turn it off altogether. I drag myself out of bed and start getting ready. Now that I know there’s a kitchen at work, I pack myself a lunch. I don’t need to spend money eating out every day.
I make it to work with ten minutes to spare. I head into the breakroom and open the fridge to put my lunch away. Despite it being one of those large restaurant style fridges, there’s barely any space. When I locate a spot on the second shelf in the back, I lean over and reach in. As I’m sitting my food down, I feel someone brush against my backside. It startles me so much that I jump and bump my head on the top shelf of the fridge.
“Wow, I’m so sorry!” I rub my head and study the man apologizing to me. He’s not bad looking. He has dark, brown hair that’s cut short and dark eyes too. He’s giving me a polite smile and apologizing again.
“I was just trying to get more coffee creamer and thought I had enough room to get past you.” he explains.
“It’s fine.” I close the door to the fridge and start to walk away.
“I’m Anthony. Anthony Port.” he holds his hand out. “Let me buy you lunch today to make up for it.”
Cameron
“I’m taking a late lunch and you’re coming with me.” Blake announces as she barges into my office. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Take Jim or Sharon.” I tell her. “Or Memphis.”
She closes the file on my desk and tugs on my arm. “Yuck to Jim. Sharon is like my grandmother and Memphis already had lunch plans. I asked her first.”
I grumble, but stand up and follow her out. Blake presses the button for the elevator and asks me where I want to go while we wait for it.
“Doesn’t matter.”
When the doors open, Memphis and Anthony step out laughing. She’s holding a to-go cup and she stops laughing long enough to take a sip from her straw. She went to lunch with him?
I step into the elevator and give Blake a pointed look when I realize she’s staring after Memphis and Anthony. She’s scowling.
“What the hell? I thought she was your bae.”
“Seriously, you have to stop saying that word. I told you she isn’t my…bae.”
“What is she then?” she challenges.
“She’s nothing. We had fun and now we’re just co-workers.” I explain.
“You’re ridiculous.” she snaps. “I’m driving.”
Blake takes me to a small bistro a few blocks from the office. As close as it is, we could’ve just walked. Once we’ve ordered, she brings up Memphis again. I knew she wouldn’t let it go. She needs to.
“What is it with you and women? I know you like them, so why are you such an idiot when it comes to them?”
“Is this how I’m going to be treated our entire lunch?” I ask, annoyed.
“You like Memphis. It’s obvious. What’s the problem?”
“I don’t like her.” I defend. “If she wants to go to lunch with Anthony she’s more than welcome to.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about. She looks as though she has it all figured out though. The waitress brings our food and I pick up my sandwich.
“Did you ever take her out to lunch?” she asks, then takes a bite of her salad.
“Wasn’t that type of relationship.”
“Maybe that’s what she wanted though.” she smarts.
“I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“I’m just pointing out that she’d probably rather be having lunch with you than Anthony Port. You’re just too big of a moron to ask her.”
“F
irst I’m an idiot, now I’m a moron. Speaking of morons, how’s your boyfriend?” I tease.
“How dare you? Langston is not a moron. Or an idiot. We’re doing…fine.”
I notice her blush when she says this. I don’t want to know. Whatever is going on between them that would make my sister blush is something I don’t need to know. As long as he treats her well, we’re good.
“If you ever grow a set and ask Memphis out, we could double date.” “I’m sure her and Anthony won’t mind going out with you.”
“Ugh. Anthony is gross. He’s always trying to find some way to rub against me and then makes up a lame excuse on why he did. Total perv.”
“Yeah.”
“Changing the subject. Give me the scoop on the client you and dad met for lunch yesterday. I heard he got busted for soliciting a prostitute.”
“Attorney client privilege. Can’t discuss it.” “Bullshit. Spill.”
“Nothing to tell. The meeting didn’t happen. The client rescheduled. He’s coming in this afternoon.”
“Well, I heard he met the woman at the strip club you and Rhys went to.” I stop mid-chew when I hear her say this. “You haven’t heard that?”
“No.” I answer with my mouth full. I chew and swallow quickly. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Everywhere. Phil Andrews is the realtor guru, Cameron. He’s married with five kids. This is a huge scandal. He’s denying every bit of it, but he was caught red handed.”