by Jade West
I leaned against the sink as he wiped his sorry ass. “You don’t even mean it. You just say it for something to moan about.”
He had me there. “Let’s just see if she turns up again before you go professing your undying devotion, shall we?”
I walked away to dress, pulling on a t-shirt while he watched.
“You have my undying devotion, Carl.”
“I should hope so.” I grabbed some jeans from my wardrobe.
“You know you do,” he said. “I love you.”
Fucking Rick and his blurts of affection. “Thanks.”
He flushed the toilet. “And that’s it, is it?” He washed his hands. “Thanks?”
“Thanks. Very much?” I buttoned up my jeans.
He propped himself in the doorway, and his body was incredible in the morning light. His cock was thick and perfectly proportioned, the glint of silver in the end demanding my eye. “And…?”
“And what?”
“Are you going to say it?”
I feigned ignorance. “Say what?”
“You know what. You never fucking say it.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, admiring the view. “Surely Little Miss Horsey hasn’t got you running insecure? I barely even touched her.”
“This isn’t about her,” he said. “It’s about us.”
I pulled a face. “Jesus Christ.”
“I’m being serious, Carl. Can’t you just fucking say it?”
“I love your tight little asshole, Richard. I love it very much.”
“Fine.” His eyes darkened, and his shoulders turned rigid, his movements jerky as he pulled his clothes from his chest of drawers.
I laughed. “Sensitive this morning.”
“Just… whatever, Carl.”
He pulled on some boxers and I rolled my eyes at his back. “Seriously. You know I don’t need to spell this shit out. We’re not five, Rick. What do you want? Little love hearts and flowery kisses?”
“Whatever.”
“Christ, Rick, what’s this even about?”
He folded his arms and faced me, and his gaze was firm. “Why can’t you say it?”
“I can,” I scoffed. “I’m just not so… gushy.”
“You can’t,” he said. “It makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?”
I didn’t answer.
“Is it because I’m a guy? I thought you were over all that?”
My words came out harsh. “I am over all that. I’ve long been over all that. Fucking hell, Rick, that lasted a fucking week, at best.”
“What, then?”
I scowled at him. “Like I said, I’m just not so extravagant with my words. What difference does it make? I’m here. You know exactly how things are.”
“Maybe I want to hear it. You always want it straight up from everyone else. Why can’t you say it?”
“That isn’t even vaguely the same thing.” I got to my feet. “That’s a ridiculous parallel.” A dark strip of lace peeped from under the covers. I pulled it out. Katie’s knickers. Without thought, I held them to my nose. Breathed her in. Nice.
“I just want to know. It’s good to hear sometimes.” He sighed. “Unless you don’t.”
I ran the gusset between my fingers. “Unless I don’t what?”
“Feel like that.”
“Like what?” The lace was fine, and the scent of her was glorious.
Rick slapped the chest of drawers, uncharacteristically irritable. “Just forget it.”
“And you’re going to be all hissy now, are you?”
He shrugged and he was walking away. Rick never walks away.
It made me lose my shit.
I grabbed him by the elbow and his eyes were wide as I pulled him back. He slammed into the wall with a thud and I pinned him, my shoulder pressed to his as I pulled down his boxers. And I said it. Even though the words made me icky to my stomach, exposed and uncomfortable and highly fucking awkward, I said it.
“I love you.”
His cock was hard against my thigh. “Say it again.”
I took his cock in my hand, wrapped the lace of Katie’s frilly knickers around him. He groaned as I worked his shaft. “Don’t fucking want much, do you?” I squeezed until he groaned. “I love you, Rick. Since you fucking insist on hearing it. I love you, I love you, I fucking love you. Hearts and roses and soppy fucking kisses. Is that what you want, Rick? You want to hear me make a fucking sap of myself? Is that what makes you fucking hard, pretty boy?”
“Fuck, Carl. Fuck.”
His fingers were at my jeans, and I was relieved. My balls were tight and hot, the scent of sweet pussy lingering on my tongue. His hand wrapped around me, and he jerked me hard. Fast. Ramping up the pace until I grunted in his ear.
He pulled me to him, pressed his cock against mine, and I groaned as the ridges of his piercings pressed into my shaft.
“Fuck…”
He groaned for me, then threaded Katie’s little knickers between our thrusting fucking meat. “Gonna fuck her. Both of us. I know you want it…”
I thought of the pink little bud of her. Her shaven slit. “Of course I fucking want it…”
“Gonna fucking stretch that cunt, Carl. You want it as much as me. Gonna be so fucking tight in there, Carl. So fucking tight.”
“Fuck, Rick…” The rhythm was relentless, hips and dick and fingers.
He licked my lips and I sucked his tongue. Then pinched, the barbell hard against my teeth. He groaned and it was wet. I didn’t let him go, and he wriggled and squirmed.
I pressed harder against him, bucking harder.
His hands gripped my ass, held me to him, and there were no fingers, just cocks, cocks and grinding fucking flesh.
I let his tongue go free and he pressed his head to the wall, closed his eyes. “Gonna open her up for you, Carl. Gonna make her nice and wide. I know what you need.”
“Fuck…” I hissed.
“Gonna make her take it, make her beg… open her up until you’re all the way inside, Carl. Oh, fuck, she’s gonna be so fucking tight. Such a tight little fucking snatch.”
“I want to… I want…”
“I know,” he breathed. “Gonna fill her up, Carl. Fill her right fucking up.”
And I was coming, spurting and hissing and shooting my load all over his fucking belly. All over mine.
“Yes…” he hissed, and he was coming too. I felt the jerk of him, the frantic judder of his dick against mine.
I caught my breath against his shoulder, and he laughed.
“Wasn’t so fucking hard, was it?” he said. “Three little words.” He took a deep breath. “Say it again.”
“Now you’re pushing your fucking luck,” I said.
I stepped through the door at midday and Mum shot up from the dining room table. She hovered while I kicked off my boots in the hallway.
“What?” I said.
“You know what.”
Urgh. I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t tell me he called you. What a prize fucking prick.”
“Watch your mouth,” she said, and I shot her the finger.
I smiled and so did she.
“I’m not talking to him,” I said. “He can piss off.”
“He said he’s been calling for a week.”
“No,” I said. “His office has been calling for a week. Him, no. He called once. Earlier. I was busy.”
“Semantics. He’s been calling for a week.”
“I don’t give a shit what he’s got to say. I’m not interested in any little non-family get-togethers. I’m not interested in Verity’s new fucking show pony. I’m not interested in how wonderful his wonderful life is.” I tossed my phone from my pocket to illustrate my point. “I really don’t care. I want none of it.”
“He’s your dad…”
“He’s my sperm donor. Nothing more.”
She pulled a face. “That’s horrible, Katie.”
“He’s horrible.”
“He’s st
ill your father.” She grabbed my phone, held it out to me. “Call him.”
I shook my head. “No fucking chance.”
“You should call him. He wants to speak with you about something.”
“I couldn’t care less what he wants.”
“You will,” she said. “Call him.”
I took the phone but made no move to dial. “Why will I?”
Mum ran her hands through her hair, and it curled at the ends in the exact same way mine does. We could have been sisters. People often said so. “Ask him!”
“You tell me,” I insisted. “What does he want?”
She sighed. “He has an opportunity for you.”
“Then I’m really not interested in calling,” I laughed. “I don’t need his opportunity.”
“This is different,” she said. “You need to consider this one.”
“I don’t need to consider anything from him.” The promise of three grand a month held me in warm arms. “I can sort my own shit out.”
She leaned against the table and took a breath. “Harrison Gables.”
The name stole my breath. I gawped for long seconds. “What about Harrison Gables?”
Harrison Gables was the best horse whisperer in the whole universe. He’s the best of the best. The guy works miracles. He works with the wild horses on the cowboy plains in the US, and he’s known worldwide. I’d give anything to meet him, but he rarely indulges an audience.
My heart fell before she’d even finished the words. “Verity is going…”
I should have known. Of course Verity would be going. Princess Verity could do anything, have anything, go anywhere. Of course Princess Verity would want to go and meet Harrison Gables, not least because I wanted to go and meet Harrison Gables. I couldn’t hide the resentment from my voice. “Why tell me that? That’s so fucking unfair.”
She shook her head. “No! That’s the thing! He wants to send you.”
My belly fluttered and twisted. “Me?! Why?”
“Maybe because you’re his daughter?”
I tried not to shoot her nasty eyes. All this time and she still defended him. She’d never stopped defending him. It was sad really.
I forced myself to breathe, telling myself this was some stupid game, some stupid trick, even though my heart was daring to hope, daring to dream.
“What does he want? He must want something?” I couldn’t stop the pout. “Verity need a kidney donor or something? Maybe they want to harvest my sub-standard DNA to save precious. He’ll need to come up with more than Harrison Gables in exchange for my organs.”
Mum rolled her eyes. “Ask him,” she said, and gestured to my phone. “Who knows? It could be something good. Have you considered that?”
No. I hadn’t considered that. There was little point. It was never good. I stood mute, just staring. Harrison fucking Gables.
“Alright,” I relented. “I’ll call him.”
Mum looked relieved. She chivvied me along with frantic hands, and then she said the ominous words.
Ominous words that never boded well.
“Think before you give an answer,” she said. “I mean it, Katie, you need to think about things. Don’t go bladdering in there making rash decisions.”
I dialled the number before she could make me promise anything.
“Call her,” I said. Rick was staring at his phone, pretending to be tapping away on some thing or another, but I knew. His brows were too serious.
“No.”
“Call her. See if she’s coming back this afternoon.”
“No!” he said. “Just give her some time, will you?”
I smirked. “Don’t pretend you aren’t shitting it. You want to know if she’s coming back. So, call her.”
“You’re wasted, you know that? You should start up an agony aunt column. Ask Doctor Carl. It would be an instant hit.”
“Mock all you like, my advice is sound. People just don’t want to hear the truth.” I turned my nose up at his little veggie crackers and grabbed some bread from the bread bin. “You don’t really think she’s coming back, do you?”
“I do actually,” he said. “I know she’ll be back. I’m just not sure when.”
“Next weekend. If she wants to get paid.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “And that’s what I’m supposed to say, is it? Hey, Katie! You’d better be back here Saturday. It’ll be two dicks next time. We’ll have lube.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
He sighed, and nibbled at his veggie delight. “It’s just so… base.”
“And?”
“And… just… non-seductive.”
“We’re supposed to pay her and seduce her now, are we?” I stuck the bread in the toaster. “Surely she should be seducing us, no?”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t make an effort.”
“We made an effort.”
“You uncorked a bottle of red. Big deal.”
I groaned. “So, what do you suggest? Candlelight and truffles?” I smirked. “Then dick?”
“This place is intimidating.”
I laughed. “Is it hell. It’s just a fucking house, Rick, not a bastard castle.”
“That’s not what I mean,” he said. “She’s walking onto our turf. It’s intimidating.”
“And this is where we live.”
He sighed. “Let’s go away. Take her with us. Just for the weekend.”
“Out?”
“Brighton. Manchester. Anywhere.”
“And then what?” I watched the steam from the toaster. Rick and his soft fucking ideas.
“And then we drink, and relax, and have fun.” His eyes sparkled. “And then she takes two cocks.”
“She isn’t going to take two first go, Rick, even I know that.”
He shook his head. “She’ll take two, trust me. It’s all in the technique.”
“We’ll tear her apart.”
“Trust me.”
The toaster popped. “I’ll be happy to trust you,” I smirked. “Just as long as you can pissing well get her there.”
He smiled. “So, we’ll go? Brighton?”
“Wherever you want,” I said. “No expense spared…”
He punched the air.
“…on one condition.”
“What condition?”
I took a seat at the table. Focused on him deadpan.
“You’ve got to promise me we’ll both be buried to the balls in that tight little snatch before the night is out. Otherwise it’s no fucking deal.”
He held out a hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal, partner.”
“Katie!”
Urgh. His fucking voice. Such a snobby, self-righteous fucking prick.
“You called?”
He sighed, made a right fucking mountain out of it. “You could have returned my calls sooner. It’s unfortunate I had to call your mother.”
“She said.”
“Did she explain? It’s a great opportunity, Katie, I’m very serious.”
I didn’t have time for this crap. “What do I need to do to meet Harrison Gables? My kidneys aren’t for sale, and neither’s my pissing soul.” Just my pussy. Ouch.
He sighed again, full of them. He’s always bloody sighing. “Won’t you just come to the office, as I requested your mother? We can talk there. Properly.”
“I’ve no interest in talking properly,” I snapped. “Just tell me now.”
“Katie…”
“No,” I said. “Tell me now.”
He really did groan then. An exasperated groan that pissed me the hell off, but I kept my mouth shut while he said his piece.
“One month’s apprenticeship with Harrison Gables at his ranch,” he said. “One whole month, just you and Verity, his absolute attention.”
I could have cried. The idea was inconceivable.
Inconceivable and no doubt rammed full of conditions.
And impossible to achieve any other way.
He had me and he knew i
t. He really knew it.
“And I have to see you?”
“Tomorrow,” he said. “At my office. Stroud.”
“I can’t do tomorrow,” I lied. “Thursday? Friday?”
He groaned and I heard paper flicking. “It will have to be the following Monday, then,” he said. “One p.m. Don’t be late.”
“And what will this meeting be about?” I asked. “What do you want?”
“A week on Monday,” he said again. “Be there.”
And then he was gone.
Asshole.
I’d do anything on earth for David Faverley, but his petulant, spoiled excuse of a daughter was trying my patience, and I’d been in the same room as her for a mere twenty-nine fucking minutes.
Our intern programme at Favcom Technology was renowned as the best in the industry. I’d like to say it was my baby, but I’d be lying. David had been running the scheme for a lot longer than I’d been in the business, in fact, the scheme was responsible for the fact I was even in this business at all. I believe there are pivotal moments in life where fate crosses your path, takes your measure and decides to give you a shot. Maybe it’s a chance opportunity, maybe it’s that moment you hit the peak of your curve and the cards stack in your favour, or maybe it’s that one person that sees right through you, ignores your past and your hang ups and the massive fucking chip on your shoulder and catches sight of something more.
David Faverley was that one person for me. The guy who looked beyond the shell of the arrogant little prick in his office and saw something in me worth investing in. So, here I was, almost twenty years later, at the head of his Techstorm sales subsidiary, shoulder to shoulder with him at every business meeting that meant anything, director across the board for every single one of his enterprises. Yet, I rarely broadcasted it. Scrap that, I never fucking broadcasted it.
Respect is never a given, it’s always earned, and titles mean shit. I want the people in my teams to respect me because I’ve given them reason to. Trust me because I’ve proven myself trustworthy. Work hard for me because I work hard for them. And despite my reputation as a hard-headed steely sack of shit, I’m really not so bad, or so people tell me.
I have just three rules in business, and in life. Give your all, grab hold of opportunities, and show gratitude for all you’ve been given.