Seduce (Beautiful Rose 0.5)

by Missy Johnson

  What was up with all the fucking giggling? I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. She sounded like a fucking chihuahua, and it was starting to give me a headache.

  As my mouth reached her knees, I spread them apart, and she breathed in as my lips worked their way along the soft skin of her inner thigh. Curling my hands around her hips, I reeled her in to where I knelt. My mouth was less than an inch from her wet pussy, so close that when I breathed, she jumped. I hooked her leg over my shoulder, my tongue teasing her and working her up. This girl was so hot for me she was almost sizzling.

  Honestly, I avoid giving head wherever possible, but sometimes I’m just in a generous mood, like tonight. Spreading her legs even further apart, I gently licked along the thin strip of pubic hair that had been neatly waxed into place. I felt her hand latch onto the back of my head as she kindly fought the urge to shove my face into her cunt.

  “Fuck,” she whispered, her free hand repeatedly banging on the empty bed beside her. I dipped my tongue inside her, sucking hard on her inner lips, loving the way they hardened against my tongue.

  Though I don’t like to give head, it has nothing to do with me not enjoying it. Quite the opposite actually, because I love the feeling of my tongue roaming the most sensitive areas of a woman’s body. Most of the time it’s just pure laziness as to why I don’t reciprocate.

  After a long day working, having a chick drop to her knees to suck my cock without having to so much as wink…why pay for a meal when they’re handing out samples for free? Anyway back to…hell, I didn’t even know her name.

  She screamed as I roughly plunged my tongue inside of her, her legs wrapping themselves around my shoulders. Her hand, still locked in my hair, began to pull. The sudden pain only encouraged me because I knew she was close to climaxing, and the sooner she climaxed the sooner we could get back to me. I released my tongue so that only the tip was inside of her now, circling the spot that made her toes curl and her muscles stretch to the point of tearing,

  “Oh fuck me!” she screamed. Her back arched as her body began to spasm, all while she tried to push my face away. “Stop, stop, stop!” she cried as I continued to tease her. I laughed, finally standing up. My cock was hard, as it had been since I’d started on her. Nothing quite like eating pussy to get the blood pumping.

  I climbed onto the bed and rolled on a condom. Lying on my back, I grabbed her hips and lifted her on top of me. She gasped as she lowered herself onto my length. I smirked as she moaned, knowing instantly I’d hit the spot. There was a reason I was so popular with the ladies, and it had plenty to do with what I packed below the belt.

  “Take your bra off,” I panted, rocking myself in rhythm with the beat of her hips. I watched as she reached behind her back and unclipped the bra, throwing it onto the bed. Her rounded breasts fell out, jiggling as she moved. One thing was for sure: she had a nice set of tits.

  Pushing my feet onto the bed, I curved my arm around her back, flipping her beneath me. I contorted her body, bending her legs so far back they were almost behind her head. She made a noise that sounded like a cross between a cry and a laugh.

  “You okay there?” I smirked, thrusting myself inside of her. She grunted in response, her expression suggesting she was on the verge of another orgasm. Without trying to sound cocky, it wasn’t unusual for women to orgasm three of four times when with me. Maybe I had the perfect shaped dick. Or maybe I just knew what to do with it.

  My grip on her calf tightened as I felt the pressure build up inside of me. I closed my eyes and thought about Sally. Fuck she was hot, with her toned body and an ass that I just wanted to dive into.

  “Fuck yeah!” I panted, picturing her bent over and sucking my cock as my load spurted out in a rush. As soon as the job was done, I rolled off the bed, peeled the condom off my now limp dick and dropped it in the trash can. I glanced at her lying on my bed, all smiles, and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Any minute now…

  My phone rang. Right on time—they didn’t lie when they said they were efficient.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Hello. This is your wake-up call. Thank you for using our service…”

  “Uh huh. Sure, I will be there soon.” I said, feigning concern as I pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt. “Sorry baby, family emergency,” I said. I forced myself to sound apologetic when all I really wanted to do was get home, take a shower, and go to sleep. Her face fell as I gathered my things.

  “You’re welcome to stay the night,” I added. “I’ll call you.” I was out the door before she could reply, and before it could click for her I didn’t even have her number.

  Chapter Three

  Carly raised her eyebrows at me as I sauntered past her desk outside my office. As per usual I was hungover and I probably looked like shit. I made a face, warning her that all snide remarks today would be taken personally.

  “Coffee?” she asked sweetly. Too sweetly. She was passively giving me shit and she knew that I knew it. I let it slide, and nodded, the call of caffeine too strong to resist.

  “Extra strong, please. And maybe you could take that hot little ass of yours down to Clegil’s and get me some breakfast?”

  She rolled her eyes at me and muttered something under her breath. Ignoring her, I strolled into my office and slammed the door.

  Fuck. No more door slamming today, my fragile head chastised me. I opened the top drawer of my desk and pulled out a strip of painkillers. I took two, along with a gulp of water, praying it would do the trick and dull the pain quickly. I’d forgotten about my lunch meeting with my father. If there was one thing he had drilled into me, it was appearances meant everything to him.

  Carly knocked on the door, then walked in carrying a bacon and egg wrap and a tall coffee. She sat them in front of me, parking her ass on the edge of my desk.

  “Big night then?” she asked dryly. “Daddy won’t like that, will he?” she asked. I shot her a look. Carly was getting bolder by the day, like she thought our ‘relationship’ let her get away with the occasional dig at my lifestyle.

  “Daddy won’t care so long as I’m closing the deals,” I shot back, unwrapping my breakfast. I took a bite, cursing as the gooey egg yolk oozed onto my shirt.

  “Fuck!” I said, wiping it with a napkin, which only achieved in making the stain bigger. Carly jumped off my desk and dashed out of my office, returning a few seconds later with a fresh shirt. “Really?” I asked, my body relaxing. She had spare clothes on hand? I piled the wrap into my mouth as my stomach demanded more food, and loosened my tie.

  “I’ve worked here long enough to know that it’s a good idea to keep a change of clothes here,” she laughed. “Of course, a food mishap wasn’t even on my radar.”

  I downed the last of my coffee and stood up. “Am I going to have to smack some manners into you, Carly? Are you even aware that I’m your boss?” I asked, throwing the shirt at her. She rolled her eyes and handed me the clean one. I slipped it over my shoulders.

  “What are you going to do, fire me?” she retorted. “You know I’d have a field day with a sexual harassment claim,” she laughed.

  “It’s not harassment if you like it, Carly,” I said dryly.

  “Yeah? Well here’s a tip for you. If you want an assistant who doesn’t talk back, then don’t fuck her.” She winked at me and walked out. I smiled in spite of myself, knowing I couldn’t argue with that.

  ***

  Even through the insulated walls of my office I could hear Carly’s syrupy sweet voice singing out, followed by a giggle. My father must have arrived. It wasn’t by chance I acted the way I did: I was a product of my father. The perfect example of what poor parenting could do to a child. Opening the door, I greeted my father. He was right on time.

  “Dad, come in,” I said. He followed me into the office, shutting the door behind him. He sat down, throwing a stack of papers on the desk. “What’s this?” I asked, flipping through them.

  “I need you to close the casino deal. They
’ve looked over the property a few times now and I think they just need a little push to sign.”

  Closing the folder, I nodded. It was perfect timing, actually, because I was finalizing the Cemotto takeover this week. The old hotel was the perfect location for the new casino.

  “Leave it with me. How have you been? Drink?” I asked.

  “A bit early, isn’t it? Even for you,” Dad commented dryly.

  “I meant a coffee,” I replied, narrowing my eyes. He shook his head, glancing at his watch. Like every other time we met, he had somewhere else to be. Everything was more important than spending time with me.

  “No, I have to get going. How are you?” he added, almost as an afterthought. It was laughable just how bad he was at being a parent, and it was embarrassing how much I cared. When I was a teenager I went through a stage of acting out in order to get his attention, which landed me in hot water with the law. In order to avoid a criminal record I had agreed to therapy. My court-appointed shrink had plenty to work on when it came to my issues. Abandonment, hostility and anger toward my father, depression, and a fear of intimacy…And that was all from our first session.

  My mum left when I’d just hit puberty, and my dad treated me with as much respect as something on the bottom of his shoe. He said it was no wonder I behaved the way I did. Therapy didn’t extend past the ten mandatory sessions and I’d never had any since. Unless you counted Alex’s multiple attempts to ‘shrink’ me. He did that a lot.

  “I’m fine. Alex says hi, by the way,” I said. I hadn’t even spoken to my brother, but I couldn’t resist opportunity of making Dad feel uncomfortable—and nothing did that quite like the mention of Alex. He stiffened, my words cutting through him like a knife. He took a deep breath then left without as much as a goodbye.

  ***

  “Hey you.” At least there was someone to meet me at the door when I got home from work.

  Kneeling down, I ran my hand over Mr. Jefferies thick black coat as little strands of fur floated through the air, drifting downwards before landing on my pants. This was why I spent so much on dry-cleaning. That and my inability to eat an egg and bacon wrap without soiling myself. He purred anxiously and rubbed himself against my arm, angry at being left alone all day but happy to see me. The complexities of being a house cat.

  I scooped him into my arms, tickling his chin as I carried him over to the sofa. His annoyance gave way to his craving for attention as he madly rubbed himself up against me, begging for more pats. He was good; it was like he knew I felt bad leaving him alone all the time, so he played that against me. Flicking on the television, I checked my messages.

  Luke had called again to remind me of next week’s dinner. Fuck, he was persistent. The more he went on about this dinner, the more nervous I got. I had a feeling I knew what this was about, and if I was right, this dinner was going to suck big time.

  I thought back to my meeting with Dad. What was supposed to have been a lunch meeting had lasted four-and-a-half minutes before he bailed. I should’ve been used to it by now, but no matter how often he disappointed me, it still hurt. Maybe Alex had the right idea: cutting all ties with him and leaving the country. He seemed happy, living it up with his girlfriend in Los Angeles.

  Happier than me anyway.

  I was big on pretending everything was great, but the truth was, more often than not I hated my life. I drank too much because it dulled the pain I felt when I thought about my parents, and I treated women like shit because it made me feel in control of something. Even my career was not something I had achieved—not according to Dad, anyway. He never let an opportunity slip by to remind me it was because of him I had this lustrous lifestyle and amazing job, as if he could take it all away at any moment.

  My life was a mess and I saw no way out of the hole I felt trapped in. I kept living my life the only way I knew how. Every day felt like the same never-ending downward spiral. I even resented Alex for leaving me alone to deal with my father—that’s how fucked up this shit was. Why was he able to get out, yet I was stuck here in this soul-destroying life?

  Dialing Alex’s number, I waited impatiently as it rang. Finally, he answered.

  “Jack. How are you?” he said, sounding pleased to hear from me. I always called in the evenings because it was the only time I could be sure he’d be awake.

  “Not bad, how are you?” I asked, pushing the cat out of the way so I could sit back down. No sooner than my ass had touched the leather fabric of the couch he was purring in my lap. I stroked his chin gently.

  “Yeah I’m good. Work keeps me busy, but it pays the bills,” he chuckled. “So what’s happening back there? Has my older brother got himself a girl yet?”

  “You know me, I’ve got many girls. None of them special though,” I laughed. Alex was obsessed with me finding a woman. Every time we spoke he asked me the same question, even though the answer never changed. Younger than me by two years, you’d be forgiven for thinking he was the older of us. Levelheaded and focused, he’d done whatever he needed to achieve his goals. Sure, I was great at getting what I wanted, but Alex did it with poise and respect. People liked my brother, whereas they were intimidated by me.

  It scared me sometimes how alike my father and I were.

  “Keep looking, Jack, you’ll meet her. How’s Dad?” His tone changed, the hurt and abandonment he felt over being excluded by our father still so raw, even after three years.

  “Pigheaded, rude, and selfish. You know, the same,” I quipped, making him laugh.

  “When are you going to get over here and visit me? There’s a whole country of women here you haven’t slept with yet,” he joked.

  “I’ll get over there soon,” I promised, ignoring his dig. “I wouldn’t want to deny the women of L.A. the pleasure of my company,” I added, chuckling.

  “That would be good. I really miss you, Jack. It would be great to catch up.”

  “Yeah, it would be,” I agreed. I wiped my eyes, glad that I was alone. If anyone caught wind of this it would ruin my reputation. Jack Falcon showing emotion was like an honest politician: nobody would ever believe it. “You know what? I’ll do it. Give me a few weeks and I’ll take a week off and come over.”

  “Really?” Alex sounded shocked.

  “Yes, really. I can take time off, you know.” I said, not admitting that I was surprised myself. In three years I’d never taken time off. My holidays would’ve accumulated to quite a nice little amount by now. I laughed, imagining Dad’s face if I told him I was taking all my leave to go and visit Alex. It would almost be worth doing just to capture that look.

  Chapter Four

  The rest of the week flew by uneventfully, and by Thursday I was glad it was almost the weekend. Leaving work close to seven in the evening was early for me. Usually I was at the office until after nine. Hungry, I stopped off at a burger place on the way home. Levine’s Burgers was as balanced and healthy as my diet got.

  Sliding into a booth at the back of the restaurant, I picked up a menu. I decided on a works burger and thick cut chips, the first thing I set my eyes on. If you walked into this place without knowing anything about it, there was a good chance you’d walk right out. Its aging interior and daggy atmosphere made it a less-than-appealing place to eat. It wasn’t just convenience that led me here. Believe it or not, Levine’s held a lot of sentimental memories for me.

  The first time I’d been there was as a child, way back before Mum left us. Mum had been a farmer’s daughter who had hooked up one night with my father during college and fallen pregnant with me. There was no love in their union at all; it was all about necessity. Dad’s father demanded they marry, so they did. What resulted was a very cold, emotionless relationship that carried over into childhood for my brother.

  They were both full of blame and plenty of regret. Mum had to drop out of college and marry a man she didn’t love. Dad’s life didn’t change much. He was never really around, and being married certainly didn’t stop his screwing around. Mu
m was aware of his unfaithfulness, but she was also terrified of him.

  When I was nine and Alex was seven, Mum went out one day to do some shopping and never came back. The note she left us in her room explained she couldn’t handle being our mother or my father’s wife any longer. As a nine-year-old, reading the words ‘I can’t handle being your mother’ was a kick in the guts. How could a child not take that to heart? For years I switched between blaming myself and blaming Dad for her leaving. Now, I just blame her. She made the decision to leave us. No matter how bad things are for you, how can you justify leaving your children in an environment you can’t handle yourself?

  After she left, things with Dad became even more strained. If he was not around much before she left, afterwards we barely saw him at all. At nine, I had more contact with my nanny than my father, yet that didn’t stop the constant yearning I had to please him. Things finally changed in my teens. After years of being ignored, it was like suddenly at the age of sixteen I had become useful to my father. He included me and acknowledged me, though deep down I knew it was only for his benefit. If I wasn’t able to help, then I was no use. If I hadn’t shown any interest in the family business, then like Alex, I would’ve been ignored.

  I often thought about Mum, especially when I went to Levine’s. It was the place of the last meal Alex and I had with my mother. Dad, of course, had been too busy working to eat with us.

  “You ready to order?”

  I glanced up at the uninterested waitress who stood with her pen poised, ready to take note. She looked about fifty, with curly red hair and freckles. I gave her my order and watched her as she walked back behind the counter.