by Tia Siren
I bit down on her nipple, marking her as mine one last time before I collapsed on her body. We trembled against one another, trying to catch our breath as my cock slid out from between her ass cheeks.
And then those words tumbled effortlessly from my lips.
“I love you, Crissy.”
I gently pulled myself up to her and kissed her. I watched her eyes finally peel open, and she smiled at me. Her smile cascaded a warmth through my chest that caused me to cup her cheek, and I felt her nuzzle into my touch like the beautiful woman she was.
“Untie me,” she said. “I want to hold you.”
“Nope. You’re stuck,” I said, winking.
“Well, I don’t really know how we ended up here, but I’m glad we did,” she said.
“I meant every word I said to you earlier,” I said. “You know that, right?”
“I do,” she said.
Those words fluttered my heart. For the first time since I’d used this rope all those years ago, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with a woman. I had visions of her in a wedding dress. Images of ripping it off her after she said those words grew my cock between my legs again. She smiled wolfishly at me, feeling me grow against her skin, and that was when she asked me the question that pulled me from my mind.
“Why don’t you untie me so I can return the favor?” she asked.
“Never,” I said as my hand slowly cascaded down her side. “You’re all mine now.”
Then, I slowly snaked back between her legs and teased my cock head at her entrance.
Epilogue
Three Months Later
Crissy
I laid there next to Grant’s naked body as we swayed in the breeze. The hammock we were lying on was lined with a beautifully soft material, and my head was listening to the beating of his heart. His hands were tracing mindless patterns on my back, and I sighed with contentment as my leg slowly crept between his.
“Could I ask you something?”
“Anything,” he said.
“There’s this new project the junior executives were talking about,” I said. “Another proposed company acquisition. I double- and triple-checked the numbers just to make sure we weren’t getting the company into more hot water, and I’d like to take the lead on it.”
“Well, talk to me about it. What’s so appealing about the acquisition?”
“It’s a new energy start-up out of Silicon Valley. They’ve got all the knowledge but very few of the resources. Solar and wind energy, to be specific. I know J&M focuses on oil and coal, but if we could branch out a bit, maybe get a foothold in the clean energy business, we could usher J&M into the future.”
“Sounds like the mindset of someone who’s looking out for this company,” he said. “Are you talking about buying them out?”
“Yes,” she said. “Right now, a fair estimate would be around three million, given their lack of resources and the fact that we wouldn’t have to do anymore research. We’d own everything—the licenses and the patents—and I could network and create new relationships with the distributors they were looking at. It would look really good for J&M’s ethical responsibilities outlook. That’s big with people today, what a company subscribes to in terms of ethics.”
“Don’t I know it,” he said. “What do the stats look like with regard to profit?”
“Fairly straightforward with a two percent growth over the first four quarters. Then, once we crank out the sales and get people on board with things like do-it-yourself kits and installing them in homes and on farms across the country, we could see as much as a five percent uptick in profits from what they’re already doing.”
“Which is?”
“Eight hundred thousand a quarter,” I said.
“That’s not too much profit,” he said.
“It would be an investment in the future, for sure. I wanted to run it by you, see if you’d let me take the lead.”
“Let me counter before we talk more. I propose a merger.”
“A merger?” I asked.
“Yep. If we fuse the two of them together, the profits could be greater. The love people have for both coal and natural energy sources could be found by combining the two companies. It’s an odd fusion, but one that was meant to be from the start. Don’t you think?”
“If we merged, you’d have to give up your name,” I said.
“One of us would have to give up a name, yes,” he said, smiling. “It would probably be them, though, since I’m the more dominant party.”
“I guess a merger like that would make sense,” I said. “I don’t really have enough specifics in order to run profit calculations in my head, but—”
“I would rank profits somewhere in the ballpark of fifty million a year,” he said.
“With the merger of a—”
Suddenly, it clicked in my head. The vague talk about the merger. Him not giving up his last name. The random calculation of fifty million dollars.
His yearly salary was easily fifty million.
“Grant?” I asked as I sat up.
He was asking me to move in with him. Three months after everything went down with my father, and he was asking me to move in. I couldn’t honestly say I hadn’t thought about it, but the idea of actually doing it brought a smile to my face. Waking up next to him every morning and falling asleep next to him every night would be a dream come true. I’d wake up warm, loved, in the company of a man who couldn’t devour enough of me. We could take vacations together, and we’d no longer have to sneak around. Moving in was a public declaration of how we felt about one another.
I’d no longer have to fend off my sister when she started asking questions or tolerate Mel when her and my father started fighting about money.
Like they always did.
Then Grant stuck his hand down into the pocket of the hammock and pulled out the most incredible pink diamond ring I’d ever seen.
“Grant,” I said breathlessly.
“A merger like that would undoubtedly draw some eyes, yes,” he said as he held the ring up to me. “But a merger like that would also fulfill a passion of mine I’ve had for the past few months. This company, though it doesn’t make as much as I do, fulfills a part of my company that has been dead, lost, floating at sea without a light. Bringing a company on like this as a merger would preserve the emotional and intelligent foundation upon which the company was built. Merging instead of acquiring would mean that company still had free rein, could still conduct their business as they felt necessary while knowing my company will always back them, always support them so long as they talked with me about big decisions first.”
Tears crested my eyes, and my hands began to shake. I sat up in his lap, and I wiped my fingertips underneath my eyes. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. What I was hearing. What I was experiencing.
Grant Jacobs was proposing.
“But, I can promise your company one thing,” he said as he slipped the ring onto my finger. “I can promise that I’ll always be your company’s safe place to fall, the company yours can always fall into at night. You’ll have your space, but you will always be protected. You’ll be free to be yourself without ever having to doubt who loves you, who cherishes you, who respects you.”
“We aren’t talking about companies anymore, are we?” I asked lightly.
“Crissy Marks, will you consent to be my wife—and Chief Sexual Officer?”
I threw my head back and laughed as the ring sat heavily on my finger. I threw my arms around him, our naked bodies falling together in the hammock. I peppered his face with kisses as his arms snaked around my back, and for the first time since my mother passed, I felt like I was at home.
At home in the arms of the person who loved me most.
“Yes, Grant. Of course, I’ll marry you.”
He raised his head to kiss my lips, and I cradled his neck from behind. His hands pressed me into him, his cock rising between my legs. I drank him in, remembering everything about this
moment. My life was about to change forever. I was no longer the same woman I was five months ago when I started at my father’s old company, and I was venturing into a world that would surely change me ten times over as we grew old together.
Old and in love, just like it should be.
“I love you so much,” I whispered into his lips.
“And I love you, Miss Marks.”
“Oh, I know what that means,” I said, giggling.
“You just have to promise me one simple thing, Miss Marks.”
“Anything, Mr. Jacobs.”
“You have to send me pictures of those beautiful tits of yours on a regular basis. I’m never going to be able to get enough of them.”
I giggled, burying my face in his neck. My body hummed for him as his fingertips danced along my skin, and my hips ground down into him as his cock teased my entrance. I felt him groan, rolling his hips to try to slip into the heat he’d become so addicted to.
I rose, planting my hands on his chest as I rolled my hips. His dick slid into me smoothly, his lips sucking in a sharp gasp of air as I rolled my head back in ecstasy.
“Anything for you, Mr. Jacobs,” I said breathlessly. “Anything for you.”
***
END OF THE FIRST STORY
Forbidden Heat
Fake Relationship. Real Heat.
She thinks I’m just the bartender,
Serving drinks to the billionaire guests.
She sits at my bar in her tiny bikini and gives me those f*ck me eyes I
know only too well.
But I can give her more than a shot.
My cocktail is long and thick.
Hot and tasty.
She wants to piss off daddy by f*cking the help?
I also have my own secrets.
As she melts into my kiss, fire burns in my gut and steam rises in my pants.
She’s mine.
She never should have walked in to my resort.
I’ll show her what forbidden heat really is…
*
Chapter 1
Emerald-green and indigo waters; sugar-fine, white sand; high-rise condos lining a horseshoe-shaped sickle of land that curved upward, all the way from San Destin to Pensacola and beyond. Palm trees, tropical heat, and fruity, umbrella-adorned drinks served from a swim-up bar, cleverly designed to look like a tiki hut, except for the one marble counter. Lithe young women in bikinis that showed off sculpted abs and asses, their hair gathering salt as they carefully dunked themselves into the roaring surf cresting up from the Gulf of Mexico.
It was absolute paradise, picture-perfect, a postcard in 3D—or at least it would have been if he wasn’t so tense, not to mention stuck behind that stupid bar. The young woman walking toward him across the sand made the multitudes of beautiful girls packing the beaches pale in comparison. With her perfectly highlighted, streaky blonde hair, a body made for far more than the nearly-microscopic bikini that barely covered her crotch and her well-shaped breasts, full lips, and a perfectly straight nose jutting out from beneath a pair of expensive designer sunglasses, she was magnificent. Her tan wasn’t just golden; she almost glowed, almost more than the sun above them.
Her mouth, painted in a crushed-berry hue, lifted at the corners. “I need a drink.”
“Yeah? What’s your poison?”
Her head tilted as she tried to look at the array of bottles behind him. “Um…rum?” she said, uncertainty in her voice.
The handsome barkeep summed her up quickly: More the designer-drink-type than the raw-shot-type, in my opinion. Then again, who really knows for sure? He’d been working there long enough to know that many people on the beach were as plastic as the chairs they sat in, and the vacationers and tourists were always doing things and drinking things they had never tried before. He was sure this beach Barbie was no exception. “Straight up?”
She hooked her shades back with one finger. “Hmm…maybe not.” There was a slightly rueful expression in her eyes.
He couldn’t help but gaze into the dark chocolate pools, which seemed very unusual, given her light hair. Of course, the hair’s never natural here either, he reminded himself. Grayson lifted an eyebrow as her face swam into focus. He took in her high cheekbones, eyes that tilted just slightly at the corners, a tilt made more noticeable by a perfect cat-eye application of kohl. He had to wonder just how long that makeup was going to last and what it would look like smudged and messy. He also found himself battling a serious desire to reach across the bar, grab a fistful of that luxurious hair, fake color or not, and plant a kiss on her lush mouth, one that would be guaranteed to mess up that perfect, incredibly careful application of lipstick.
Except Grayson knew exactly who she was: Riley Teeter, daughter of a self-made billionaire with serious political leanings. What the hell is she doing here, of all places? Grayson wondered, peering over at the two men in the lounge chairs nearby, who seemed to be keeping a very close eye on her and two other girls who were frolicking in the waves. Yes, the resort was luxurious, but it generally pulled in affluent folks from the Southeast and Canada, none of whom had the kind of money Riley’s family had. Undoubtedly, some millionaires showed up there for a little R&R, but it wasn’t normal for a billionaire and her buddies to build their castles in that sand. Then again, he considered, maybe that’s precisely why she’s here. Maybe she’s just not into normal.
Before he could think about that too much, Grayson shot a sexy little brunette with a full rack and a plumped-up ass a wicked smile as she swam up to the bar and plopped her curvy self onto a bench. “What can I do ya for?” he asked, not even bothering to hide the lust in his eyes.
“Gimme a shot…of anything.”
“You sound pretty desperate there, honey,” he said in a low, smoky voice.
“You’ve got no idea.”
“I see. Well, in that case…” He paused and set a tall frosted glass in front of her, filled it with frothy beer, then dropped in a shot of whisky and passed it over. “Here ya go, sweetheart. Just what the doctor ordered.”
She grinned at him. “Doctor? It looks to me like you’re trying to get me drunk, Grayson.”
“Maybe I am.”
“And what for?”
“Maybe I like to play doctor,” he teased, winking at her.
“Ahem…” Riley Teeter cleared her throat, and the irritation was obvious in her voice when she spoke again. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I do believe I was here first.”
“You’re no bother at all,” Grayson said, earning an eye-roll from the other woman. “I was just waiting for you to decide.” He gave the brunette a quick grin.
She gulped down her drink, then set the half-empty glass back on the bar and swam back out into the pool that fronted that side of the bar.
Riley tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the marble counter.
Again, Grayson wondered why the hell she was there.
She cleared her throat again, a little more quietly this time, and looked over at the pool and the perky-breasted brunette, then scanned farther down to the beach, just beyond the edge of the infinity pool. “If it’s all the same to you,” she said, finally turning her gorgeous eyes back on him, “I think I’ll have the Windy Hammer.”
He gave her a tight smile, then poured, shook, strained. It really wasn’t Grayson’s business why she was there. What was his business was serving his customers, in the hopes that maybe somebody would give him a good tip, in whatever form that took.
As if she had read his naughty little mind, she took the drink and offered up her room key. “Just put it on my tab,” she said with a grin.
Damn! he thought, feeling stupid for thinking she was granting him access to more. He slid it swiftly through the machine and handed her the slip and a pen.
She signed with a flourish and did, in fact, add a healthy tip.
Grayson resisted the urge to go wide-eyed at the exaggerated percentage she added. Certainly, his service wasn’t that great. Of course
, he really didn’t give three shits about that. He’d long since burned out on being there, and he didn’t care who knew it. Tips were nice, and he needed the job, but money was the only thing holding him to it. For all he cared, all those wealthy, plastic-surgery people who swam up to him daily could drown in the next tidal wave or choke on their double martinis.
Riley sauntered off, purposely swaying in a way that forced him and every male with eyes to admire her bottom for a moment. The bathing suit, if it could be called that at all, let little crescent-shaped slivers of each ass cheek hang below the sliver of fabric, seriously sexy and well-shaped slices of ass cheek at that.
Pssh, Grayson thought, scolding himself for being so foolish. As far as I’m concerned, little Miss Daddy’s-a-Bazillionaire can keep that fine ass of hers in that overpriced bikini. He had enough trouble in his life, and the last thing he needed was to get caught up in some bullshit with the daughter of a man who espoused family values and modesty and everything and anything else he thought would get him a seat in the political arena. Her father was a panderer in every way, and if there was one thing Grayson couldn’t stand, it was a kiss-ass.
“You know who that is, kid?” asked a familiar voice.
“Oh, hey, Dad. Yeah, I know,” he answered when he saw Jon lifting his chin toward Riley.
“My boy, I think it would be in all our best interests if you’d,” he chuckled and then continued, “…spend a little time with that one.”
Like father, like son? “Nope.” The answer came fast and easy, followed by a firm shake of the head. “She’s not the kind we need to invest in, Dad. I hear her old man’s got a tight-ass clutch on the purse strings. He’ll die with them in his hand before he’ll let anyone get a finger on a cent.”
That was really what it all came down to, and they both knew it. They had a manager—a funds manager. That so-called manager had managed very little except to abscond with some serious cash at the precise moment when Jon decided to expand the resort brand up to Pensacola, a burgeoning market. Now, they were in desperate need of a heavy investor and they needed to nail down that benefactor fast, or at least Jon did.