by Starr, Tara
“An arrangement, you say?” I mimic his body’s language, propping my elbows on the table and leaning toward him as I bat my eyelashes. This asshole wants to play games? Very well.
“Yes, Tess, an arrangement,” he whispers, his smile widening so much that I almost think he’s going to tear his mustache in half. Reaching for me, he lays his sausage fingers on top of my hand. “You see...I like you. You’re a very beautiful donna, sì.”
“Oh, you’re going to make me blush, Mario.” I give him a shy laugh, covering my mouth as I do it. His cheeks are growing red, and even his mustache seems to be dancing over his upper lips.
“Ah, but you look so pretty when you blush,” he says, trying to be smooth but sounding like a child molester.
“Oh, Mario!” I swat his arm playfully, and then I get up from my chair sensuously. I walk around my desk, moving toward him, and his jaw hangs open as he takes in the way my tight black dress is wrapped around each and every one of my body’s curves.
“Perhaps, you’re right, Mario,” I continue, lasciviously running my tongue between my lips as I look him in the eye. Leaning toward him, I rest my hands on the armrests of his chair. His eyes dart straight to my cleavage, and his chest stops moving as he holds his breath. “Maybe we can make a special arrangement. A secret one. How would you like that?”
“Oh.” He breathes out. “I’d like that very much.”
As I lean in even more, I see his hand moving from the corner of my eye. His fingers head straight toward my ass, but I’m faster than he expects me to be—grabbing his hand by the wrist, I push it down on the table. It slaps the wooden top with a loud bang, and then I spin around and grab the letter opener, burying its sharp tip right between his index and middle finger.
“Dios mio!” He cries out, large beads of sweat appearing on his forehead out of nowhere. “What are you doing, Tess?”
“Shut up, Mario,” I tell him, turning back to him and placing the tip of my heel right between his legs. “One wrong move and swear to God, you’ll have to call Luigi to take my shoe out of your ass.”
“You are crazy! Crazy, I tell you!”
“You want crazy?” I ask him, now my turn to grin. “If you want crazy come by on Fridays. This is just a regular Tuesday for me. Now,” I continue, reaching for his tie and pushing the knot up against his throat. “About the little arrangement you had in mind...I have a counter proposal.”
“A...a counter proposal?” He stammers, trying to suck in the air as I keep on tightening his tie.
“Yes, and I think you’ll like this one.” One more smile, and then I wink at him. I’m going to make him my little bitch. “I won’t sue you personally for sexual harassment. I’ll let you keep your balls. I won’t cut your dick off. I won’t bury your company in lawsuits for dealing in bad faith. And you give me what I want for 4 million dollars.”
He’s sputtering. So I continue. “Also, I’ll stop myself from buying every single stock I can get my hands on and prevent you from making anything. I’ll personally make it my mission to destroy your company financially and reputationally. And by the time I’m done with you, motherfucker, you won’t even be able to get a job as a plumber on a fucking video game because you’ll be castrated and homeless, you stupid, ugly piece of lying shit.”
“Okay, okay,” he starts flapping his arms, his eyes bulging as beads of sweat drip down his forehead.
“Do we have a deal?” I ask, baring my teeth.
“Deal, deal! We have a deal!” he whimpers, almost crying. Another few seconds and I think he’s going to piss himself.
“Good.” Using the tip of my foot, I give his chair a push and send the asshole spinning to the other end of my office. He crashes against the wall, stumbles onto the floor, and then rolls to his back as he loosens the knot on his tie.
“Oh, and Mario…” I say, staring at the way the letter opener seems stuck on the perfect mahogany desk. “Let’s make it $3 million. I’ll need the rest to repair this,” I finish, wrapping my fingers around the letter opener and pulling it out with a groan.
“Americani! Sono tutti pazzi!” He mutters under his breath as he finally manages to go up to his feet. We’re all crazy, he says? Well, maybe we just don’t like to be pushed around. With one hand on the wall, he starts dragging his feet toward the office’s door.
“Tutti pazzi indeed,” I smile as I sit down on my chair. The CEO’S chair. As Mario pushes the door open, I give him a little wave. “Come back anytime, Mr. Capello!”
When he finally slams the door behind him, I close my eyes and let out a heavy sigh. Seems like my day job has more to do with putting up with assholes than taking executive action. Whenever guys like Mario Capello see me, they either assume I’m a secretary or that I’m some trust fund kid.
Well, I’m neither.
What I have, I earned.
Domina Designs is one of the most important boutique furnishing companies in the state because of my hard work, not because I inherited a shitload of money. To be fair, my father taught me the ropes—but he did it out of the cramped carpentry he worked in for most of his life. If anything, I inherited his knowledge; the rest, I conquered with my own sweat.
“Ma’am,” my secretary buzzes me from the outside. “Your lawyer has just called. Told me to say it was urgent.”
“Thank you!” I say as I grab the phone and dial Ashley’s number. She picks up on the first tone. “Please, Ashley, tell me this is really important and that you’re not calling to talk about Taylor.”
“C’mon, girl,” she laughs, and the way she does makes me picture her twirling her hair around one finger, just like she always does. “I’m not that obsessed.”
“Uh-uh,” I say, not convinced.
“Listen,” she says to me. “Are you working late today?”
“No, I don’t think so. Just finished closing a deal and—” but she doesn’t let me finish.
“Another asshole you kicked in the balls then?” She laughs, and I can’t help but laugh back. Girls will be girls.
“Maybe. Aside from that, there’s not much going on. I’ll just spend the rest of the day with Accounting; they want to make sure our books are in order. You know how it goes.”
“I do. And I also know that you need to get your ass to Clarendon Tower tonight. There’s a board meeting scheduled for tonight, and I think you’ll like what’s on the agenda.”
“A board meeting? But aren’t we’re out of board presidents after Jeremiah Hoody?”
“I know, right? Just make sure you’re there. This is big.”
“What do you mean by—?” I start to ask, but she cuts me off before I have the chance to finish my sentence.
“Tess, just know this one thing…” She hesitates for a moment, her words hanging in the air, and then I can almost feel her smile from the other side of the line. “Your life’s about to change, girl. Trust me.”
Chapter Three
Austin
I specialize in all things wood.
Crafting, designing, polishing.
And, my wood is loved by everyone.
Especially by this redheaded slut between my legs. She can’t get enough of my wood. Whether its working under me or working for me, she’s always been eager to ‘polish my knob.’ I know it sounds cheesy, but those are her words exactly. She’s said it a few times to me before, and I bet she’ll say it again. Just wait and see.
But honestly, how could I resist this woman? Or, any woman really? Why would I want to? When women fawn over you all day, every day it gets hard to not give into temptation.
Hard being the operative word here. It’s not like I promise them a lifetime of marriage and happiness, they know what they’re getting themselves into when they’re with me.
They’ll get fucked by the best cock they’ve ever had.
Oh, and me?
I’m Austin Randall.
It’s nice to meet your acquaintance, baby. And I get it, you’re probably rolling your eyes, saying, �
��oh he’s an asshole,” he’s yet another man who takes advantage of his lifestyle and bad boy charm to get whatever he wants, women included. And I’m here to tell you that your assumption is fucking right on the money. Why not take advantage of what you have? In my opinion, it’d be a fucking waste if you didn’t.
But listen. Don’t let me turn you off to this story. Just as an aside, people change. And you never know—maybe I’ll go from being a despicable asshole that you hate to someone that you end up liking and rooting for. Why not give me a fucking chance, baby?
I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.
Plus, I don’t see any woman complaining while they’re with me. I’m everything these women have ever wanted…and more. A chiseled body, strong jaw and features, and very capable hands. Hands that’ll make any woman orgasm is less time than your favorite B.O.B. It’s true, I’ve been challenged.
“Yeah baby. Suck it harder,” I buck my hips up and weave my hands through her hair. She hums as the head of my cock hits the back of her throat.
I lean back on my desk chair and spread my legs farther apart, looking out at the New York City skyline.
Now this is the fucking life. I have it made, and I did it all by myself.
I’m sitting 80-stories high above the city in my office, surrounded by my trophies and awards for wood-making while some temp sucks my dick. I feel like the fucking king. I have been called that a few times in bed—‘My King’ to be exact.
I place my hands behind my head and let out a satisfied sigh, reveling in this moment.
“Do you like that?” Her tongue traces the tip of my cock, kneading my balls with her fingers. “Do you like how I polish your knob?”
See, I told you. Less than a few paragraphs later and she says it. I knew it.
“Oh fuck…” I hiss, trying not to laugh.
She chuckles, and I look down at her. I assess the little slut on her knees, perched between mine, and I drink in the scene. She’s hot, but I’ve had hotter. She is a firecracker I’ll tell you that. Fiery red heads are not just a stereotype, it’s a real thing.
I’m not going to complain though, she’s very competent at her job. Even if it is just temporary. But when is it not for me?
I told you I’m an asshole, baby. I’ll never deny that. As you’ve probably figured out by now, this isn’t the first time I’ve had a temp salivating over my successful wood.
I am the most sought-after furniture designer in the country after all.
Austin Randall, the CEO of Oakmont Furniture Inc. at your service, baby. I’m one of the only mass-market furniture companies in the country that still makes all their furniture in America.
And, once women get a whiff of who I am, they can’t stop but drool all over me. A man who knows how to use his hands and is a mastermind when it comes to business is like their version of the American Dream come true. And, I can’t argue with them. Despite me never wanting to live that life, I know I’m the type of man they’d want to take home to their parents.
Fuck, I’ve got the looks, the charm, the brains and the skill to keep any woman more than satisfied. But I’d rather go to their bedroom, not their parent’s house.
And, before you get all bent out of shape thinking I’m some cocky manwhore, my confidence more than deserved. I turned Oakmont into what it is now. It was a small family company from the hills of North Carolina. It’s been in my family for five generations, me being the fifth in line. After everything went to shit and the market moved overseas to fucking China, we were in a dire situation. That’s where my genius comes into play. We have grossed more than a billion dollars a year for the last few years, all thanks to my ability to mass market our furniture.
So, really, it’s not just the ladies that like what Oakmont furniture has to offer, everyone does. That’s what makes me as profitable and successful as I am today. But I only like what the ladies have to offer, let me make that clear.
“Faster,” I instruct her, feeling my balls tighten.
Like the good temp she is, she does as she’s told. She steadies my dick in her hand and bobs up and down, swallowing my length.
“Fuck, yes…touch yourself,” I look down at her, her lips growing chapped from their suction around my dick. “Move those panties over and touch yourself.”
Her eyes, darkened with lust, peek up at me and her mouth grows into a mischievous smile.
“Yes, sir,” she mumbles, and I watch as her hands move over her satin red panties, rubbing her clit on par with the rhythm she’s set with her mouth.
She’s damn good. Kudos to her technique. I mean, I’ve had better, like I’ve had hotter, but this will definitely do.
Her muscles start to quiver and she quickens her pace, sucking harder on my shaft.
A muffled moan spills from her lips, vibrating my cock, and my muscles strain.
“Finish me,” I groan.
BUZZ. BUZZ.
Are you fucking kidding me?
I twist around, watching my phone jump on my wooden desk.
What the fuck?
Who the fuck could this be? Don’t they know I’m busy?
I grab my phone, not able to control my patience. I’m about a second away from blowing a load in this women’s mouth and now this…
It really fucking never ends. But I live for this shit—women and business.
She stops mid-stroke. “Excuse me?” she asks, indignant. “Something more interesting on there?”
“No, no. Keeping going,” I tell her, even though I’m staring at my phone.
“What do I need to do to keep you interested?” She purrs and licks up and down the side of my dick. “Want to fuck me?”
See I just got a text message from my boy Taylor. Hey man, there’s a Condo Board meeting at the Clarendon Tower soon. Possible business opportunity. Come. Now.
Oh shit. Business at the Clarendon Tower? How did I not know about this?
This could be fucking huge. To be able to get my furniture in Clarendon Tower and to work with one of the most exclusive clients in New York would be a huge opportunity. A once-in-a-lifetime deal.
I have to go.
“Ahh!” Her mouth swallows my dick before I can dismiss her.
“You’re not ignoring me,” she sneers as her teeth graze the head of my cock.
“Fuck, baby. Calm down. I want you to finish, I—”
She slams her mouth down to the base of my shaft, thumbing my balls. It’s aggressive and a bit rough, but I never said I don’t like it rough.
“I’m going to cum,” I growl, and she stops sucking me, making a popping sound as her mouth lets me go.
“No, you’re—” She shouts, but its too late and my cum interrupts her, shooting directly into her mouth.
But, it does more than that.
It fucking spills all over her—her mouth, eyes, chest, and even a few splashes on her tight black dress.
“Oh, my God! I can’t see! It’s in my eyes!” She screams and starts to panic. She gets up from her knees and runs into the curtain behind her.
I cover my mouth, trying not to laugh as I watch her blindly dart around the room.
A woman dressed in my cum is a fine sight, but this is fucking comical. She’s running around like a chicken with his head cut off. Fuck. I might’ve blinded her.
I grab a towel from my gym bag under my desk and hand it to her.
“Here,” I hand the towel over and she wipes herself off with it.
I zip my pants up, grabbing my briefcase and throw some miscellaneous papers and brochures into it.
“Where are you?” She says, panic still filling her voice. I look back to see her, and there’s cum still in her eyes.
I chuckle, quietly, and walk over to her, grabbing the towel and wiping more of the cum away.
See, I’m not always an asshole.
“I have to go,” I announce.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” She shouts, and I walk out of my office and shut the door.
I text my assistant and two other designers, letting them know when and where to meet me. Clarendon fucking Towers, excitement and adrenaline courses through my veins as I type it out. I have a feeling this is going to be good.
I head out the office door towards the elevator. The doors slide open and I enter, but before I can close them, I see a redhead running after me.
“You can’t leave me like this…WITH YOUR CUM IN MY EYES!” She screams and then suddenly freezes. A janitor walks out of the closet door and darts his eyes between the two of us.
I swear, her face turns redder than her hair.
The janitor hands her another towel and nods his head. “You missed a spot.”
I give the janitor a thumbs up. I’ll need to make sure he gets a raise when I get back.
Fuck. Just another day in life of Austin Randall. Care to see what happens next, baby? I’d love to show you how a real man works his magic, not only with women but as a fucking CEO.
And listen, remember our deal. If you still think I’m an asshole by the end of the book, you have my full permission to say fuck off to me. But something tells me you’re going to like the ride.
Chapter Four
Tess
“Fuck.” I watch the numbers on the elevator’s digital display climb up, and I can’t stop myself from glancing at my wristwatch. Ten past nine, which means that I’m already late.
When the doors finally slide back into their partitions, I rush out of the elevator. Clutching my purse tight, I head straight toward the closed double-doors at the end of the hallway. Right before I enter the room, I stop and take a deep breath.
Why the hell didn’t Ashley tell me what’s up?
Christ.
“...a recurring problem, I know, but it is what it is,” I hear one of the board members, most likely the vice president, say as I step inside. I try to be as silent as possible, but a few heads turn my way all the same.