Vested Interest (Flynn Family Book 3)

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Vested Interest (Flynn Family Book 3) Page 6

by Kayt Miller


  I lean forward into her and swipe my tongue out until I feel it. I run it around in circles and then I suck. She gasps so loud I feel it on my tongue. I press my finger into her opening as I suck. Her hips begin to move with me as I finger fuck her. No way we do anything else until she comes. I won’t leave her wanting like I did last time.

  Fuck! The noises she’s making are driving me crazy. There are whimpers and panting. When she grasps my hair in her hand and pulls me closer, I latch onto her pussy with my mouth like she’s giving me my life source. I feel her before I hear her. My finger is being squeezed so hard I don’t think I can pull it out. Her clit is pulsing against my mouth, and I hear her cuss for the first time. “Fuck yes. Jesus.” She lets go of my hair, and I pull away. I look up at her and smirk, “I owed you one.”

  I think that was the wrong thing to say because she backs up and pulls her shorts up almost as fast as I got them down. “Well, thanks for that, I guess.”

  “You guess?” What the hell did I do wrong now?

  Chapter 11: Cassandra

  Ugh, I let him do me wrong twice now. I guess I’ll never learn. After pulling up my shorts, I turn and walk back into the kitchen. I pick up the bag with his dinner inside and walk down to my front door and wait. I can’t think of any other way to give him the hint that it’s time for him to leave than this. Sure, I could say, ‘Get out you asshat.’ or ‘Thank you for coming. Oh, wait, that was me!’ or I could just tell him that I’m done with whatever this is and I’d like him to leave. But, I opt for the more visual response.

  I don’t have to wait long. As he walks into my kitchen I watch him look around. His eyes scan the room until he sees me standing by the door. He takes a deep breath and I note a look of resignation on his face. He walks to the stairs and takes them quickly. I reach for the doorknob but he stops me by placing his big hand on top of mine, “This isn’t over, Cassie.” He leans down and kisses me softly.

  I pull away before the kiss gets out of hand, “Yeah, it is.” I pull open the door despite his grip, hold out his dinner, and wait for him to leave. He stares into my eyes for a second then his eyes slowly scan down my body. My nipples peak as soon as his eyes reach my breasts. Frigging traitors.

  He finishes looking at me from head to toe and back again. He leans in and whispers in my ear, “No. No it’s not, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

  He walks out and I slam the door. I know he’s close enough so I yell through the door, “Yes. Yes we are baby.” I say ‘baby’ as sarcastically as possible. When I hear him chuckle I stomp my foot and growl. “Asshole.” I hear him chuckle again. I stomp up the steps into my sitting room and throw myself on the sofa. The damn thing smells like him. “Ugh!” I groan. Why me?

  Chapter 12: David

  Whatever sense of superiority and defiance I felt last night as I left Cassie’s place is gone. Long gone. Friday at work is kicking my ass. The minute I walk in the door, I’m summoned to Lester’s office with the other V.P.’s. We’re all given a heads up that we’ve got to produce something major in the next three weeks, or he’s going to rethink the hierarchy at IIM. “The individual Directors are taking bigger risks and making more money than the lot of you combined. If I don’t see something from you soon, shit’s gonna get real.”

  I’d love to laugh at that last statement because hearing a guy in his late sixties say ‘shit’s gonna get real’ is hilarious. I could land one punch on him, and he’d be dead he’s so fragile. Truth is, he doesn’t have to use physical force to ‘get real’ with us. Firing us only takes a couple of words and a phone call to human resources.

  After the meeting, I drag my ass back into my office. Gretchen is at her post, but she’s texting someone. I say nothing. I’d rather have her texting than doing any work for me. She makes my job harder, not easier. Leaving my door ajar, I take my jacket off and hang it over the back of my ergonomic chair. I plop my ass down and spin so I can stare out the window. The view is nice, sure, but I’d rather be anywhere else right now.

  I sigh and force myself to face the computer. I click on a few of my standard links, and then I look at a few articles on some business websites. I also look at local and national news until it’s finally lunchtime. “Great, I can get the fuck out of here,” I mutter to myself.

  I stand to pull on my jacket when I hear them. Female voices that sound more like hissing cats outside my window at night. “Fuck,” I mutter. I stop moving so I can listen.

  “Where’s the other fat one?” says my ex-wife.

  “The other fat one?” screeches Gretchen.

  “Yeah, the other fat one besides you.”

  “You bitch!” shouts Gretchen.

  I hear things tumbling and crashing assuming those are things from Gretchen’s desk. I stomp out my door and see Jennifer and Gretchen reaching for one another over the desk. “Stop!” I shout. “What the hell’s going on here?”

  Before I blink, both women are straightening themselves, their hair and clothes, and smiling at me with the fakest smiles in the world. “Darling.” Jennifer walks to me and wraps her arms around my neck and repeats herself, “Darling. I’ve missed you so much. I came to take to lunch,” she adds cheerily.

  Gretchen sneers and grunts as she sits back down. I watch her pick up the items on her desk that were upturned during their altercation. “Jen. What are you doing here?”

  She lets out a fake laugh, “I just told you, silly. Let’s go into your office so we can be alone,” she whispers conspiratorially.

  Rather than make a scene, I step back into my office. I wait for her to cross the threshold, essentially inviting the vampire into my home, and shut the door behind her. “Why are you here, Jennifer?”

  She sits down on my leather sofa and crosses her long legs. She’s wearing an extremely short black dress that’s tight around her slim figure. Her hair is up in some kind of complicated thing that I’m sure she paid to have done. Her nails are long and bright red to match her lips and her shoes. She’s got on too much makeup and perfume. I feel like I need to cough it’s so thick in here.

  “Well,” she says adjusting her skirt by pulling it up further on her thigh, “I heard you were promoted. I came to congratulate you.” She smiles at me, and it looks sincere, but I know it’s fake as fuck.

  “Thanks. You could have texted, sent an email, or better yet, a card.”

  She fake giggles, “You are so funny, sweetie. I miss that.” I watch her expression change from a smile into something you’d see on a sad puppy.

  The woman is a piece of work. Why did I never see it?

  “So, where’s Cathy?”

  One thing to know about Jen? If she doesn’t like you, she calls you by any other name than your real one. So, she’s actually talking about Cassie. “Cassie?”

  “Yeah, the fat one.”

  That’s another thing. She thinks it’s okay to talk about other women like that. She’s been cruel to Hank’s wife, Sophie and Mick’s wife, Veronica, on more than one occasion. It’s like she feels threatened by them. “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?” she says looking innocent.

  “Make fun of women who are larger than you.”

  “Well, hon, that would be almost all women,” she giggles. Letting out a sigh she adds, “Oh, I don’t know. It just disgusts me to see hot men chubby chase girls like that. I mean, the women don’t care enough about themselves to exercise or eat right—they don’t deserve a man.” She checks out her nails like she’s telling me something everyone should already know.

  “You don’t exercise.” In the two and a half years we were together, she never exercised. Not once.

  She giggles again, and the sound makes me feel sick, “That’s because I don’t need to, silly. I’m naturally thin and beautiful. I don’t even have to work at it.”

  If you call spending over a grand a month at salons ‘not working at it’ I guess she’s right. I let out a snort thinking about that.

  “You’re laughing at me,” she
spits.

  “No, not at you.” Yeah, I’m laughing at her.

  It flies right over her head. “Anyway, I thought I’d take you to lunch to celebrate your big promotion and that huge deal you just landed.”

  And there it is. Somehow she heard about the money from the Alt Frau investments, and she wants a piece. “That money came in after the divorce was final, Jen.”

  “How convenient. I hope you have the documents to prove that.”

  “I do.” I think I do. I hope I do. Cassie probably took care of that.

  “Because,” she sighs, “My attorney told me that even if that investment hadn’t paid off yet, I’m still entitled to half of it because you risked money that was half mine to get it.”

  Fuck! “My attorney,” I say emphasizing ‘My,' “Says that’s complete bullshit.”

  “So, you planned that? You planned on waiting until the divorce was final to get that payout?”

  “It doesn't work that way. I had no control over the end result until the day the product went on the market.”

  “Hmm,” she says standing. “We’ll see about that. I guess I’ll either see you at my attorney’s office or in court.” She waves with just her fingers adding, “Toodles,” as she exits.

  “God. Why do you hate me?” I say looking up toward heaven.

  I pull my jacket back off and grab my gym bag out of my closet. I open the door to my office to see a scowling Gretchen. “Sorry about her.” What else can I say? “I’m going down to work out over lunch. Back in an hour or so.”

  She smiles up at me and nods. “See you then.”

  Chapter 13: David

  The water sleuthing down my body feels amazing. My workout was intense and painful––something I needed badly. I feel aches and pains in my arms and legs, my abs are sore from overwork, and I feel a little like my old self again. I’ve neglected my workouts, and for me, exercise is a way to center to myself. I scrub the sweat out of my hair and work the suds down my chest and stomach.

  When I reach my dick, I’m tempted to rub one out, but I’ll have to think about Cassie to make that happen. She’s the only one making my dick hard these days. The thought of her taste on my lips last night is overriding my decision to jack off. I can almost smell her arousal. “So sweet,” I murmur as I wrap my hand around myself.

  I think of the moment I pulled her shorts down. The sight of her sweet little pussy drives me onward. I don’t know what I expected. Just because she’s a bigger girl… I guess I half expected she’d look different down there, but her pussy was small and pink and fucking tantalizing. I pull on myself so hard my head swims. As I’m about to get into a rhythm I hear a noise. I turn in the shower still clutching my hard on and who do I see standing in my bathroom staring at my cock? “Gretchen!” I shout. “Get the fuck out of here.”

  “Why?” she says in a husky voice. “It looks like you need a little help there. Not even your hand is big enough to handle you.”

  “Get. Out. Of. Here!” I attempt to speak slowly, so she understands. I turn off the water because this shower is over. I need a towel, but it’s over near the sink.

  She giggles and brushes her hands over her own breasts. “You’re one hot man, David Flynn.”

  I do my best to cover myself. My dick went limp the second I spotted her, so that helped. “How did you get in here?” I know I locked the door. I watch as she holds up a key. She smirks at me and leans her hip against the sink fondling my towel. I sigh and calmly ask, “Please go. Let me have some privacy, Gretchen. Please.” For the love of God, please.

  “Oh, all right!” she huffs. She stomps out the door but doesn’t close it.

  I rush out and nearly fall on my ass on the slippery floor. I grab the towel and wrap it around my waist. I reach the door and pull it shut. I press the lock button knowing it won’t really do any good if she’s got a fucking key. I dry off quickly and dress in my suit from earlier in the day. “What the hell am I going to do about her?” I’d love to know what happened with Fleming, the last guy in this position.

  I walk into my office and to my door. I press it closed and lock the door. No doubt she’s got a key to this door too. At least I’ll hear her coming if she tries to get in here. I pull out my cell and dial human resources assistant director, Jamie Corning. She and I get along well. Maybe she can tell me something about Fleming or about Gretchen. When she picks up, I whisper, “Jamie? It’s David Flynn. Are you alone?”

  “Ooh, sounds clandestine,” she laughs. She’s married with like twenty kids or something, so she’s too tired to be serious. At least that’s how she tells it.

  “In a way, it is,” I whisper into my phone. I don’t know if my office is bugged or anything. Yeah, I’m paranoid. “It’s about Gretchen.”

  She groans on the phone, “Yeah? I probably can’t say much about that subject for a variety of reasons.”

  “She just broke into my bathroom while I was in the shower. She’s got a key.”

  “She did? Do you want to file a formal complaint?”

  “Will that do any good?”

  “Probably not. Let’s do this… I’ll make a detailed note about this conversation and put it in your file. I’ll keep it in my office until you’re ready for it. That will give you a foot to stand on if something goes down,” she pauses, “And David?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Something will go down. That’s all I can say. Document everything she does that makes you feel uncomfortable. Note dates and times. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “Document everything. Oh, but not on your work computer. Do it in writing on something you keep with you in your pocket. Don’t leave it at work. Do. You. Understand?”

  Jesus, what kind of crap did Fleming endure? “I. Understand,” I say monotone sounding like a robot.

  She chuckles, “Good. Talk to you later. I’ll make a note of this conversation, and you do the same. Remember, note the date and time.”

  “Will do. Thanks, Jamie.”

  “You’re welcome.” I hear her hang up and that allows me the freedom to hang up too.

  I work the rest of the afternoon without interruption until a little after four. When there’s a knock on the door, I groan to myself but say, “Come in.” The doorknob jiggles, but it doesn’t disengage. I start to stand when I hear a key in the lock. The door opens, and I blink at the sight of my big brother, Hank.

  Gretchen is gaping at him as she pulls her key from my door. He smirks at her, but as he passes the door, he slams it shut. “What’s with her?” he says pointing his thumb back toward the door.

  “My assistant.”

  “What? Where’s Classy Cassie?” That’s always been his nickname for her, and she used to giggle when he said it. It’d piss me off that he was a little too flirty with my girl, er, my assistant.

  “She quit.”

  “What? No fucking way, dude. She’d never leave you. She was in love with you, man.”

  “Nah, we were friends. A good team, but…”

  “I call bullshit, Davie. She was mad for ya. Why’d she quit? And don’t lie to me. I can always tell when you’re full of shit.”

  I move out from around my desk and throw myself in the lone chair. “I had to let her go. Lester, uh, Mr. Ingot… Gretchen’s his niece.”

  “So? You and I both know you need Cassie.”

  “I do. But, what was I supposed to do?”

  “Tell that old fucker that you need your assistant. Pawn his family off on someone else.”

  “That’s not all.”

  “What?”

  “I’m nearly positive she got the last V.P. fired for sexual harassment.”

  “She is attractive. Not my type, but you know. She’s your type, I guess. If you want to use Jen as the example.”

  “Please don’t. She’s not my type.” Not anymore.

  “Are you sexually harassing her? Is that what you’re worried about?”

  “No, the opposite. She’s always fucking touchin
g me. Three hours ago, she used her master key to come into the bathroom while I was in the shower. I had my hands full if you know what I mean. She wouldn’t leave. She offered to help me out.”

  “Fuck. That’s stalker bullshit right there. What are you going to do?”

  “Document everything. What else can I do?”

  “Too bad you don’t have this placed wired up. Cameras, bugs.”

  “That is too bad. I could catch her pulling her bullshit. I’d be protected.” That is until Lester decides to fire me for entrapping her.

  “Maybe. Most likely you’d have to go if she’s Lester’s kin. But, at least you’d go out innocent. Try to get a new job with a sexual harassment accusation hanging over your head.”

  “True, brother. Very true.”

  “I’ll hook you up. I’ve got some surveillance stuff in my car. As long as I get it back, I’ll let you use it. I’ll even set it up. What time’s she leaving for the night?”

  I look at my watch, “In the next thirty minutes or so.”

  “Great. I’ll be back in thirty. After that’s set up, I’ll take you out to celebrate your fancy-ass promotion.”

  “What about Sophie and the kids?”

  “They’re at mom’s doing some scrapbooking shit about the kids.”

  Hank’s full of crap. He’ll love a scrapbook about his kids. He’s so head-over-heels in love with his little family. Everything they do is sunshine and roses. I’ve got to admit, though, Sophie is pretty amazing. “Knock her up again yet?”

  “Nah. Working on it,” he winks, “It’s just a matter of time.”

  We fist bump as he leaves my office. As I turn to walk back to my desk, Gretchen slithers into my office. “Wow, there are two of you? I’d love to get myself into a Flynn brother sandwich,” she laughs.

 

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