Pikeman: A Billionaire Romance

by Kristen Kelly

  Brock: Hey, baby girl.

  Amy: What do you want?

  Brock: Miss you too. Hey, I’m sorry. Been kinda busy Really, really busy. You know, saving the whole world and all that.

  He had a point. My heart melted and I hated to admit. I was horny the minute I saw his name pop up on the screen. I imagined his lips on mine, the smell of his skin, the sight of his cock, the head glistening and throbbing to be inside me. I was weak,. Totally and utterly weak for the guy and I knew it. I was sure he did too.

  Brock: Don’t be mad baby girl. I miss you too. I miss that sweet pussy.

  Amy: Really

  Brock: Fuck yeah! I keep seeing you in my head, your eyes drilling into mine. Thos high perky breasts heaving while I shoot my cum all over your tits!!!!

  Amy: OMG When can I see you again?

  Brock: Fuck! Now, I wish. But…. I’m on shift the rest of the week and you know what that means.

  Amy: Yup. You’re sleeping when you’re not at work.

  Brock: Yeah, and we both know I wouldn’t sleep if we were together.

  Amy: Probably not.

  Brock: I do have an idea though.

  Amy: Yeah?

  Brock: Most likely I’ll be doing nothing around midnight.

  Amy: ???

  Brock: Ever had phone sex?

  Amy: No.

  Brock: Would you like to?

  Amy: No.

  Brock: No?

  Amy: I have one better. Why don’t we Skype?

  Brock: Hmm. Never did that before.

  Amy: Really? Have you been living under a rock?

  Brock: Really. I’m old school. Remember

  Amy: Well it’s about time you got educated then.

  Brock: You gonna educate a love crazed sex maniac like me?

  Amy: Only if you’re a good little boy.

  Brock: lol. I like how you think.

  Amy: I like how you feel.

  Brock: Yeah, with my hands.

  Amy: Ha ha.

  Brock: Sliding my leaking exploding cock all over your sexy naked body. I want to worship at the pussy of Amy Lynn.

  Amy: Mmmm.

  Brock: Picturing you naked wrapped up in our quilt.

  Amy: Can you believe we did that?

  Brock: lol. Actually, no.

  Amy: Me neither.

  Brock: We meet at midnight, Cinderella. Don‘t be late.

  Amy: Or you’ll spank me?

  Brock: Fuck yeah!!! If you want to that is.

  Amy: Mmmm. Someday soon. For now, let’s fuck each other over the internet. I’ll lay the quilt on my bed when we talk.

  Brock: Sounds kinky. I’m all in!!!!.

  Amy: I’m counting on it, stud. I’ll imagine your tongue between my legs.

  Brock: Shit. This is turning me on right now!!

  Amy: While I sit on your face.

  Brock: Making my cock rock hard little girl!!

  Amy: lol Good.

  Brock: Fuck. Gotta go. I’m being paged.

  Amy: Awe, I was just getting started.

  Brock: Stay wet for me, baby girl. Remember, midnight. I’ll call you.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Brock

  10 P.M

  I didn’t have the nerve to tell Amy I didn’t know the first goddammed thing about Skype, or how I was supposed to do it. But hell, I’d be a fool if I didn’t learn. What with her practically making me come over a text message. Shit, she was sexy and playful as all get out. I was already rock hard thinking about our time together and if I didn’t get some release pronto... I groaned, watching the tent inside my pants. Down boy. Your time is coming. Midnight!

  I didn’t even know what Skype was, but I was computer savvy enough to know that if I goggled it, I would get all my questions answered. Or so I thought. When that didn’t jive with my stuck-in-the-dinosaur-ages brain, I had Garcia set me up.

  “You need her Skype number to call her,” he told me leaning over my desk. He smelled of aftershave and fucking soap. Why the fuck did he need aftershave on duty? I leaned back, trying to breath. “But most people just use their name with the number 1 or something simple like that. So what’s her number?”

  “Thanks. I’ll figure it out from here. Now, go away.” I was kind of nervous about the whole Skype thing and it took a lot for me to ask for his help. I also didn’t want anyone listening—or watching our conversation. I expected it would get dirty and graphic. At least, I hoped so.

  Garcia peered over my shoulder, hand on the mouse. “But don’t you want to…?”

  “I said…go…away,” I growled.

  Garcia laughed. “I see how it is. A private rendezvous…with a lady? How very modern, boss” he teased.

  I glowered at him and grit my teeth. I’d had enough of Garcia breathing down my neck. I felt enough of an idiot without him rubbing it in. I also had no intention of having my relationship scrutinized. They all knew I was seeing someone but that was it. “I can take it from here, Garcia.”

  “Oh. But don’t you want me to…” He took in my scowl, backing up quickly. “You want me to leave. Is that it?” I removed his hand from the mouse and then smiled. “Okay, boss. Go for it.” But his feet stood planted near my desk.

  I stared at the screen biting my lip and trying to think how to decipher Amy’s screen name. Really, how hard could it be?

  “You just…” Garcia made to grab the mouse again but I slid it out of his reach.

  “Okay,” he said, throwing up his hands. “Just trying to help.”

  “I can do it! And don’t you dare breathe a word of this to anyone or your ass is mine!”

  “Okay.” He burst out laughing and then exited my office.

  ***

  I was late for our Skype date. It was one o’clock in the morning—three hours before I figured what Amy’s number was, which ironically was Amy Lynn 1, just like Garcia had suggested. Again, I felt like an idiot and very, very old.

  On the fourth Skype call, Amy picked up, her beautiful face appearing on my computer screen, looking rumpled and half asleep, but still as sexy as ever.

  “Brock, I…I fell asleep. What time is it?” She was wearing a pajama top with the words, Hello Kitty on it above an animated cat with a bow in its ear. It dipped off one shoulder, her tits making little points through the polyester fabric. My cock twitched. My cock lurched inside my boxers.

  “You didn’t give me your screen name.”

  “Oh. Sorry. I guess that would have been helpful.” Something was off, her tone not registering her normally bubbly personality. I chocked it up to having had dragged her out of bed or waiting up for her idiot boyfriend who was too pigheaded to admit he didn’t know how to use Skype.

  “Hey, you sure this Skype things is safe?” I said trying to ignore the warning in my gut. “U cab see everything. Some sex crazed maniac could see inside your bedroom practically anytime he wanted.”

  “Yup.” A little smirk played across her lips but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Kind of like the modern version of a peeping Tom,” I said. “Baby, you look wonderful.”

  She grimaced.“No I don’t. I actually scrubbed off all my makeup before giving up on your call. Brock, I waited all night.”

  Damn, I screwed up. I should have called and got that screen name. “Baby you don’t need any makeup.”

  “Uh huh.” She yawned and I wondered who was going to fade first. What was I thinking? About myself, obviously. Who would be excited at this godforsaken hour? Normally, I needed very little sleep, but the last few nights had been riddled with odd dreams leaving me with a sleep deficit. I was ashamed to admit I really would have liked to sleep too. With her in my arms, preferably.

  “Brock...” She stretched her arms overhead making her breasts jut out, the nipples like hard pebbles. And that’s all it took. Adrenaline spurt though my veins. My balls pulled tight and my cock grew hard as fucking granite. Fuck, this woman drove me wild. More than wild. Insane with a desire to posses her. To make her mind for
all time. She was so young and fresh, but it was more than that. Much more. I could have come just looking at her. Whether she was fully clothed or completely naked, although I preferred the later. Those perky tits just begged to be suckled, and when she licked he lips, I almost took my aching cock inside my fist. Suddenly I wasn’t tired anymore. I was up for this. In spades.

  “Honey, I’m so tired,” she said leaning on one hand. “I don’t think I can…” She yawned again. “Do anything right now.” She looked so adorable with half-massed eyes and pouty moist lips, a little drool in the corner of her mouth.

  “Do what?”

  “You know…” She pointed at her chest with two fingers. “This. It’s awful late, Brock.”

  “We’ll see about that,” I said, excited by the challenge. “Just take off your shirt and let me see if I can change your mind.” I sucked in a soft breath as the shirt went flying to god knows where. Her beautiful breasts bounced across my screen looking pink and soft and begging to be sucked. “Fucking gorgeous, baby girl.” That earned me a smile.

  “Now you.” She cupped her breasts with two hands and flicked the nipples with her thumbs.”

  “Oh baby. I wish I was there to kiss those.”

  “Mmmm. Me too.” Then she threw back her head and moaned. “I’ve been dreaming about you. Dreaming about your cock stretching my pussy some more.”

  “That’s good,” I said when she reached between her legs. “ Right like that baby. Oh yeah, you’re making me so hot I want to come all over your tits.”

  “Show me.”

  I could see my image in the upper screen, but it didn’t go down as far as my waist and I wanted her to see all of me. I started pushing buttons. “I..um…Oh god. Just looking at you…I don’t know how but…”

  Amy giggled. “Brock, move the monitor down a little. The camera is on the top. Yeah, almost. Almost. Now lean back in your chair. Okay, you got it.”

  “Holy shit! You’re fucking ginormous Mr. Fitzgerald!”

  “It’s you. All you, baby girl.” I fisted my erection, letting my hands run up and down slowly as her eyes grew wide as fucking basketballs.

  “Did you get like that just from looking at my boobs? Why is it men don’t need foreplay?”

  “Baby, just hearing your voice is foreplay.” She licked her lips and my cock quivered in response. There was something about her that got my heart racing, the way her silky brown hair tumbled along her breasts, that long slender neck bared and naked, just waiting to be kissed. I scooted back while watching the postage stamp picture of myself, making sure the image of my swelling cock was right in her view. Her breath quickened, her chest rising and falling with her breath.

  “I’m exhausted and still you can get me going. You’re kind of…magical.”

  “You’re the one with all the magic, baby.” Fisting my cock, I groaned as a thick rope of cum starting rising inside my groin. “See, what you do to me, baby girl? See how fucking hard I am for you..”

  “Well I doubt that. It’s not like I’m a blonde bombshell or anything. Tell me, does every woman affect you this way?”

  “Sweetheart you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever been with.”

  “So skinny and glasses turn you on huh?”

  “Small packages are the best. Didn’t you know that? And nothing small about the effect you have on um…him.” I waved my cock a little, watching how the camera caught the glint of pre-cum at the tip. Sweetheart, we don’t have to worry about your dad or anyone walking in on us, do we?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and dropped her gaze. She looked innocent and soft, like a little girl. A little girl I wanted to protect.

  “No. No, he’s not here.” Something was off. I could hear it in her voice.

  I wanting to put my arms around her. I tilted up the screen instead.

  “Are you all right? Baby, what’s wrong?” As she slipped the shirt back over her head, I realized what an ass I was. I’d not even asked how she’d been this last week. I just jumped into wanting to get my rocks off. I felt even worse when tears streamed down her face.

  “Sweetheart, did I say something wrong?”

  “No. Can we do this tomorrow?” She kept looking at something behind her. I couldn’t tell if she was angry, depressed, or something else entirely. One thing I did know. She definitely didn’t want to talk to me.

  “Do you need me to come over there?”

  “No. I’m okay. Just tired is all.”

  She sniffed and then leaned off to the right. She pulled a blue chenile robe around her shoulders, covering herself up, the illusion of sexy Miss Kitty disappearing from my screen. “I’ll let you get some sleep,” I said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Call you tomorrow? At a normal hour.”

  “You better.” She gave me a tight smile.

  The screen went blank and she was gone. What the hell just happened?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Amy

  I felt like shit when I hit the escape key on my computer. Poor Brock didn’t know what hit him, but there was no way I was going to tell him that I was dead broke, that the last five years of my savings, the savings I had to replace after spending every cent of my college fund on dad’s living arrangements had disappeared along with a note from Penelope. She said she felt awful and that she didn’t want to do it but had no choice. That she’d had the offer of a lifetime and she couldn’t pass it up. I almost felt sorry for her until I read the part about her leaving with someone who could stand on his own two feet and didn’t have a spoiled brat of a stepdaughter living in her house. How had I not seen this coming? Why hadn’t I opened that first letter from the bank? Why had I given her my credit card? I was such an idiot. After all my boasting to Brock about what a smart woman I was, how could I ever show my face to him again? I wouldn’t tell him. That’s how.

  It wasn’t his problem anyway, and I didn’t want a handout. I was sure he’d give me the money without blinking an eye. In fact, he’d insist on it. Hell, he’d probably hire a private detective too. Find Penelope and the guy she left with, and beat the crap out of him. It was exactly what any man in love would do. My heart skipped a beat. Was he in love with me? Was I in love with him? I pushed that thought away. I had more important things to think about. Like how was I going to pay that second mortgage. She’d probably drained that fund as well.

  My blood ran hot, flipping between anger, panic, and grief. As an only child, my parents had done what all good parents do, they thought of my future, saving a good sized nest egg for the day I attended college. I knew how lucky I was. It paid for my tuition for four years, but graduate school had to be put on hold when dad had his stroke.

  I needed to think how best to tackle all of this. I’d call the authorities in the morning, but who knows when and if they could recover any of my money. Even if they found Penelope what were the chances she hadn’t spent every cent? What were the chances she was still in the country? I wouldn’t hold my breath on that one.

  I thought of Brock. His courage and his strength. The way he shouldered the world upon his shoulders. He’d told me about the charities he’d set up in his parent’s names and that he didn’t need to work but he’d wanted to all the same. He’d heeded the calling of a firefighter and he’d never looked back. I admired that about him. Knowing without a doubt what he was meant to do. And doing it.

  Could I really keep all this from him? Was that even a healthy thing in a relationship? I wanted things to progress to something more between us. I wanted to share my life, my everything with Brock but I wanted him to respect me too. Not think I was the little girl who needed a sugar daddy.

  I waited until six until picking up the phone to call the only person I could talk to and maybe give me some good solid advice.

  Jane picked up on the tenth ring.

  “Somebody better be dying or I’m going to shove that phone up your ass.”

  “Hi. It’s just me. No one’s dying and I’m sorry. I waited as
long as I could. Can I come over?”

  “Geeze, Amy why the hell are you up so early?”

  “Long story. How much time do you have?”

  Her sigh punctuated the air. “I’ll unlock the back door but only…” I heard her yawn. “Only because I love you. This better be good.”

  Jane and I had been friends since kindergarten. For now, she lived right across the street, in the same house she grew up in. She made a decent living at the Thirsty Turtle working her way up from hostess, waitress, manager, and then ultimately buying the place when it went up for auction after they found the owners were growing weed in the basement. I was so proud of her. I waitressed there myself until dad got sick. Jane actually owned a condo across town, but when her father ran off with his secretary a year ago, her mother had been devastated, so Jane moved back in.

  After she let me in, I went right for the tissue box. Then, sitting on the edge of her bed I sniffled and whined like a little kid. After spilling every sordid detail of Penelope’s treachery to my best friend, I asked her if she thought I should tell Brock about it.

  “I would,” she said candidly. “I mean why wouldn’t you?” She was sitting in front of a mirror in a long rumpled t-shirt turning her face this way and that. “Do you think my eyes are too close together? Someone told me my eyes were too close together.”

  “You’re eyes are fine. He’ll just give me a handout, Jane. That’s what men do. They fix things.”

  She swiveled around and gave me a hard stare. “And that’s a bad thing?”

  I shrugged. “He’s always…saving people. He’s a fireman. Well I don’t want to be one of the things he needs to save. Know what I mean?”

  “You’re kidding right?”

  “No.”

  She gave me a strangled look. “Let me get this straight. Your boyfriend has money. You need money. He’d be glad to give you the money you need… and that ruffles your precious ass? I don’t get it. What’s the fucking problem?”

  “I’m an independent woman.”

  Jane giggled and I sort of wanted to slap her for making fun of me. “Independent of any wealth, Ame. Listen, you haven’t told him, have you? Maybe he’ll just help you find your own solution. Did you ever think about that?”