Babysitting the Billionaire

by Nicky Penttila

  She needed her pants off, now. She tightened her thighs and threw herself to the left on the bed, pulling him with her. As soon as he started to roll, she let go with her legs and scooted the annoying pajama bottoms out of the way.

  “Eager little thing, aren’t you?” He palmed the side of her head, and planted a kiss on her crown. “What next, my queen?”

  May blushed. He wanted her to talk? Couldn’t he just read her mind? She took his hand and pressed it into her belly button. Then she turned their hands so the fingers pointed down, and slid them down, into the thatch and over the nub, the hungriest part of her at the moment.

  He scooted closer to her, pressing into her side from armpit to foot. She squirmed herself to lock into him. They fit perfectly. Amazing.

  She started him making that blessed figure-eight movement and then lifted her hand, reaching for his belt buckle. “Not yet,” he said.

  “Just the belt,” she said, undoing it. It took quite a while to work it out of the loopholes, as what he was doing to her was so distracting. She pulled her hand back and over her head, forgetting to let go of the belt. It slid off the opposite side of the bed.

  “Next?”

  “Fingers, inside, right underneath. And tongue, here.” She pointed at her mouth. He shifted, and then took her in both places at once. She sighed in pleasure, almost overcome in her eagerness to track all the sensations.

  Then he started circling a nipple in the same rhythm, and she started her happy squirm.

  All of a sudden, it was too much. She nipped at his upper lip, and he pulled away. He did not seem to mind the fine sheen of sweat he’d induced in her. In fact, he was looking mighty proud of himself. She needed to do something about that.

  Later. “More fingers, there,” she said.

  “My lady,” he murmured against her neck, pressing kisses down, and into the cleft between her neck and her chest. She bucked. He’d found the trigger, deep inside.

  “Slow, and often,” she said, and then let go and let the sensations wash over her. Her blood was buzzing, her bones humming, her muscles singing. And her voice, her voice, screaming.

  When she came back, he still had that grin on his face. It brought her right back to the brink. “Yeah, yeah, you did that. Let’s see how you like it.”

  She pushed him onto his back and sat up to undo the buttons on his jeans.

  “Commando?”

  “A guy can hope.”

  She slid her hands around his hips, and he helped shimmy them off. His cock, full and nice and not circumcised, bobbed toward her. Head at his knees, she pushed the slacks to the floor, and then looked back at him.

  “Use your words,” she teased.

  “Hands, first.” He reached for the night stand, opening the drawer. It held packets of condoms, a three ounce bottle of lube, and the Book of Mormon. “Toss me a condom, but start with the lube.”

  She smelled the lube. Unscented, good. She poured some in her hands and held them together to warm it. Before she could turn back to the job at hand, he spoke again.

  “Give me another condom. Give me all of them.” His voice sounded strained, which was a little odd since she hadn’t even touched him yet.

  Starting with a loose grip at his base, she spread the lube the way she would a fine paint on a priceless vase. She bent down to his level, to be sure she was being thorough. So she didn’t see his face, but she heard the groan from his belly first.

  “You don’t like it?”

  “I love it. Keep going. But it’s all we can do.”

  She looked up at him, surprised. He waved the little packets, and then tossed them off the bed. “Expired. Every one.”

  She’d never heard of such a thing. “Maybe they’re like milk and still good after a few days.”

  “You want to take that risk? After what happened to you?” He crunched up and took her head in both hands. Rolling back down, he carried her with him. The motion pulled her hand up and over the sensitive crown. He bucked, and smiled up at her. “Like that.”

  She did it again, and again, watching his gaze go hazy, his mouth go slack. Then she tightened on him, and he surged up, taking her mouth with such passion she had to push to her knees to keep her balance. He had such a lovely, pushy mouth. That’s when she had the idea.

  Kissing him, she pushed his shoulders until he was propped on his side. Then she dropped to her same side, face to his swollen member. She palmed his sweet balls and flicked her tongue on his tip. This time, when he bucked and wanted to kiss her, she lifted her leg and, good lord, he took the bait, and her core, with that marvelous tongue.

  May had to concentrate to give him the pleasuring he deserved. Luckily, they both responded to the same 6/8 tempo. She felt herself roiling up again, close to coming, but he wasn’t ready. She flicked her hips, trying to get out of range of his mouth, but he clamped an arm on her hip, holding her fast. In surprise, she accidentally scraped his shaft with her teeth. He came yelling, too, the sound reverberating down her vagina, wrapping around her womb. Pumping, pumping, his cum was salty-sweet going down.

  May was pretty sure she was wearing the same shit-eating grin he had been earlier.

  He flopped onto his back, spent and glowing and grinning just as hard as she was. “So that’s how you Americans do it.”

  “I just thought of it now. The shape of it. Like penguins.”

  He rubbed his forehead, and then let his hand flop to the bed. “Penguins?”

  “I can’t explain.”

  “Try. For me.”

  “It went from penguins, to yin-yang, to kissing, to no condoms, to sixty-nine.” She pivoted so they were face to face. His eyes were still a little glazed, his mouth a soft smile.

  “Makes perfect sense to me.”

  “Could I paint you?” Those eyes would be tough, but the body, all line.

  “No.” He softened the blow with a kiss. “Could I paint you?”

  “Do you paint?”

  “No. But my software could make you into a penguin.”

  “I’d rather you made me breakfast.”

  “Done. Then I have to check in with work. Then we go buy condoms.”

  “Sounds good to me.” It sounded great, actually, but something was nagging her. “Oh, we have to go to the foundation at noon.”

  “Foundation at noon. Then condoms.” He nuzzled her neck, biting it gently yet pleasurably possessively. “Lots of condoms.”

  The idea made her warm all over.

  ****

  It took only a few minutes for May to show Beau the foundation’s office. A simple, open floor plan for the plebes, with an open stair in the center to a gallery where the bigwigs had their offices and held the board meetings.

  Beau frowned when he saw her cubicle. “Underneath the stair?”

  “I didn’t want the one by the window. Because of the glare. And I’m here only two days a week, anyway.” She tried not to feel defensive as she draped the strap of her purse over the back of her chair.

  “Two days? So they don’t have to pay your insurance.”

  “No. I’m full-time, but I do some work from home. As you know.”

  “On that relic from the last century I saw in your apartment. I was afraid to turn it on.”

  She counted to five, then ten. What bug was up his ass? “Just because it can’t play the latest Cranky Penguins doesn’t make my machine worthless. Apple’s stopped making those workstations, anyway.”

  He scanned the room. “Everyone looks sick, undernourished. Don’t any of you go outside?”

  “Okay, I think it’s time for your meeting.”

  His attention snapped back to her. “My meeting? What about you?”

  “I’m not the special-big funder, remember?”

  “No, you’re the babysitter.”

  That was too much, especially since it wasn’t two hours ago she had her hands all over him. “Wait.” She put a hand on his elbow and led him toward the coffee room. Bad idea, as it was nearly lunchtime
, and two of her, yes, cadaverous co-workers were there already. She steered him on into the copy room. “We only need one copier now, since we’ve gone to an all-green management system.”

  She pushed him into the cubby-sized room. “What is the bug up your ass?”

  “I don’t like the way they treat the people here.”

  “You don’t know how they treat the people here. You know all this from just looking at us?”

  “All I have to look at is you. Every step we got closer to this place, you slowed down, your face got more closed, and you stopped talking.”

  “Okay, that’s me. That’s no reflection on the foundation. We do good work.”

  “So I hear. But look.” He turned back to the doorway. “Five heads, ten? No smiles.”

  May bit her lip. “I’m not going to argue this with you. But don’t judge anyone before you’ve met him.”

  “Edmondsson is transparently good?”

  “No one is transparently good. Or bad,” she reminded herself.

  Sadie was gesturing frantically from the balcony. They must be closing in on late.

  May spoke louder. “That’s it. Let’s head on up to the board room, and we can get started.”

  “Righty-ho, Miss Reed.”

  She let him lead so she could roll her eyes at his back. Thank the stars she wouldn’t have to be in the meeting with him.

  “Mr. Kurck. It’s nice to meet you again.” Sadie’s stoic friendliness seemed to weather Beau’s freezing glare. “Markus is in his office.”

  “I’m not meeting the board?”

  Sadie’s serenity slipped a shade. “We thought you wanted to keep a low profile.”

  “Interesting how you assume how I would best like to do that.”

  “I apologize. That’s completely my fault. But I know Markus is very excited to meet you.”

  May wondered if Sadie had her fingers crossed behind her back. In May’s experience, The Boss never got excited about anything. She nodded to Bo, and turned to go back down the stairs.

  She heard Sadie’s feet tapping after her. “May! You’re with us.” Her voice cracked. She stepped closer to her, to whisper, “You have to keep him in check. I’ll be having a hard enough time with The Boss. He’s a bear today.”

  “So is that one. What’s in the water?”

  “I don’t know, but I have the feeling there’s going to be a lot of translation needed.”

  “But I suck at that.” Please don’t make me make a fool of myself in front of my new lover, May tried to say with her eyes.

  Sadie did not appear to be listening. Beau cleared his throat. “Ladies?”

  “This way.” Sadie strode firmly ahead and down the far side of the balcony, Beau close behind, May nearly skipping to catch up. Two times in front of The Boss in one week couldn’t be good. Three, if you counted tomorrow night’s party.

  Well, she might just impress him, right? And she was a consummate professional. Professional publicity-shy artist, not professional public-relations maven.

  Markus Edmondsson must have heard them coming, for he was standing at the door to his glass-walled office when they arrived. The introductions went well, and it looked like Edmondsson won the handshake-grip power contest, but not by much. So far, so good.

  Edmondsson waved them over to a pair of comfortable chairs. Sadie went to the far wall to grab a rolling chair, and signaled May to do the same. Sadie rolled her seat to Edmondsson’s right, so May rolled hers to Beau’s right, a neat square.

  Beau looked like the chair wasn’t very comfortable. He won the first-to-speak pissing contest, probably trying to make up for the handshake.

  “So, the expedition. What is the timetable?”

  Edmondsson launched into what sounded like a canned lecture on the history of expeditions to the Antarctic and penguin habitats there. Beau nodded along, and May’s attention wandered. He must be wearing underwear now. Would they be boxers or briefs? He seemed the boxer type.

  Edmondsson wound down, and Beau nodded. “Yes, I see. So, what is the timetable of the expedition?”

  Edmondsson frowned, as if he’d already answered the question and was surprised to be asked again. This time, he launched into a description of how they intended to study the habitat, to ensure preservation without undue human influence.

  Beau interrupted. “Right, but what about video? What about charts and graphs?”

  Edmondsson’s mouth went straight-line. Sadie jumped into action.

  “Of course, Mr. Kurck. We’ll have the complement of videographers and cartographers. The best in the business.”

  “Your employees, of course.”

  “No. The best in the business,” Edmondsson said. “As she said.”

  Beau looked at May. He was going to make her say something. She tried to make all her limbs leaden, so she could sink through the floor. No go.

  “Miss Reed here had quite a few ideas for short films.”

  “Films.” Edmondsson’s voice dripped apathy.

  Man up, girl. May took a breath, and spilled the words out. “Right. For both fund-raising and for tracking progress on the trip. We could do a series of two- or three-minute videos, on our own channel, and ask people to video themselves asking the scientists questions. If we had the satellite we might even have a live videocast from the site, or inside the shelter, more like.”

  No one said anything. Sadie’s face, anxious, watched Edmondsson. Beau was watching May, that little smile playing along his lower lip. Edmondsson, who had been looking to the window, turned to look right at her.

  “Coffee, black. You must know Kurck’s by now.”

  May blinked, momentarily confused. Then she understood. She managed to drop her gaze to the carpet before the anger flashed through them. Then the hot shame followed, and she stood. She had to get out of here. But then she’d need to come back, with hot fucking coffee, lightly sugared. He’d only said black to impress the other man in the room.

  Who stood. “I’ll help.”

  Sadie jumped out of her seat. “No, no, I’ll go.” But Beau was already at the door, right at May’s heels.

  She scurried down the stairs, but as she was about to turn right, to go to the coffee room, he grabbed her hand and pulled her left. They rushed to her cubicle, where he picked up her purse.

  “You leave this out here, for thieves?” he had time to say even as they were force-marching to the door. Were they leaving?

  They were going to leave. “No. What are you doing?”

  He didn’t appear to hear, and he didn’t stop. He didn’t even wait for the elevator, but ran them down the three floors of stairs and out the building. Back on

  K Street

  , he kept moving. Now she was tugging on his arm for him to stop.

  “What are you doing? I need you there. They’re going to fire me.”

  “Good.” He stopped so fast she barreled into him. They were at the fountain near the White House already. They’d gone a full two blocks?

  “You’re never going back there. May, they treat you like a slave.”

  “I work for them.”

  “That doesn’t mean they own you.”

  It sort of did. “They own my time.”

  “No one should treat you like that.” He crossed his arms and glowered at her.

  She crossed her own arms. “You did, when you first got here.”

  “I did not.”

  “Selective memory much? You even made me go get coffee.”

  “No, we went to get coffee together.” But he was cooling down. May shook her head.

  “Edmondsson’s a sucky boss, yeah. But he’s not meant to be a boss. He’s meant to do those adventures. Or whatever.” Now it was her turn to frown. Wasn’t leading an expedition a lot like being a boss?

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m wondering who is going to be the Sadie on the expedition.”

  “You mean the real boss.” He shook his head, too. “That’s who should get my mone
y.”

  May’s insides went cold. “You’re not going back on the agreement, are you? It’s a contract. Right?”

  “It’s an agreement, not a contract. And it’s not finalized, as you Americans put it. Because he’s such a prima donna about the schedule.”

  “There must be a reason.” Her words sounded prim to May’s ears.

  Beau laughed. “Excusing the abuser. The reason is he hasn’t hired the expedition manager, so he doesn’t know. Or worse, he’s pissed off his manager. There are only two men in the world who could pull this off, and neither seems to me the sort who could work with your Edmondsson.”

  May almost shouted out he wasn’t her Edmondsson, but as she’d just argued he was she kept her mouth shut.

  She racked her mind for reasons this should not happen. “But what about the penguins?”

  “That’s the best you can come up with?”

  “It’s the reason we do everything.”

  “Oh, love. If all we wanted to do was save the penguins, we’d spend the money buying them ice-makers. Edmondsson wants an expedition.”

  His hard face grew still harder, a cubist scowl. “And I’m not going to give it to him.”

  May’s heart lurched into her throat. He couldn’t. It would ruin everything, not to mention cost her her job. She’d have to stop taking her medicine—it was tier three on the cost chart—and that would make it even harder to get a job. Nobody wanted to sit beside someone who couldn’t sit still.

  She snatched her hand out of his. “You’re just looking for a way to get out of this.”

  Now it was his turn to look surprised. He reached for her hand, and she wanted to give it back to him. She fought the urge. He knew what was best for her? He didn’t know anything.

  “You’re just as bad as Edmondsson.” That stopped him. She pushed on. “Don’t you think I can decide for myself how I want to be treated? I’m not a ‘my-dick-is-bigger-than-yours’ man; I don’t need the boy-stroking you do.”

  He frowned, as if trying to follow her line of reasoning. May wasn’t sure she could follow it.

  “It’s your choice to work for someone who abuses you?”