Ainsley St Claire
VENTURE CAPITALIST
Book 8
Enchanted
A Novel
Copyright 2019 Ainsley St Claire
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a production of the author’s imagination. Locations and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions or locations is completely coincidental.
Venture Capitalist: Enchanted/Ainsley St Claire—1st edition
Contents
Chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter six
Chapter seven
Chapter eight
Chapter nine
Chapter ten
Chapter eleven
Chapter twelve
Chapter thirteen
Chapter fourteen
Chapter fifteen
Chapter sixteen
Chapter seventeen
Chapter eighteen
Chapter nineteen
Chapter twenty
Chapter twenty-one
Chapter twenty-two
Chapter twenty-three
Chapter twenty-four
Chapter twenty-five
Chapter twenty-six
Chapter twenty-seven
Chapter twenty-eight
Chapter twenty-nine
Chapter thirty
Chapter thirty-one
Chapter thirty-two
Chapter thirty-three
Chapter thirty-four
Chapter thirty-five
Chapter thirty-six
Read an excerpt from:
Chapter one
Thank you! …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
Where to find Ainsley
Also by Ainsley St Claire
About Ainsley
Chapter one
Quinn
My other work phone is ringing. I check the caller ID before I answer. “Hello, handsome.”
“What are you wearing?” he rasps into the phone.
“A black silk robe. I love the way it feels against my nipples.” I breathe heavy for effect.
“Are you touching yourself?”
“I am. My pussy is wet. Can you hear me play with it? But what I want to know is if you are touching yourself?”
“My dick is so hard right now. What would you do if you were here with me?”
“Mmmmm… that’s easy. I’d get down on my knees—” I pause for dramatic effect. “—then I’d lower the zipper to your jeans, and I hold on to your hard cock nice and tight.” I moan my appreciation. “It’s so big; I’m not sure I can take it all in my mouth. What should I do?”
“Take it deep in your mouth,” he whimpers.
“Ohhh… my tongue swirls around the end. I love the way you taste.”
“I want you to take it deeper in your throat.”
“Can I play with my pussy at the same time?” I say in my best coquettish voice.
“Only if it’s completely hairless.”
“Smooth as a baby’s bottom. Tell me what you like. I want to please you.”
“Play with your nipples and your pussy.”
“Oh, that feels soooo good. Can you feel me take you deep in my throat?” I hear his breathing increase and I know he’s close, but I don’t want this to end yet. I whisper, “Don’t come yet. I want to suck your balls.”
He moans into the phone.
“I’m licking and sucking on your balls—swirling my tongue around and pulling gently.”
“Pull harder,” he commands.
“You get me so horny. My hand is so wet. I neeeeeed you.”
“I want to hear you come for me.”
“I’ll only come for you if you will come all over my tits when I’m done.”
“Jesus, woman, I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard before.”
I begin to moan my orgasm for him.
“Ahhh,” he grunts into the phone. “Gawd, you’re amazing. I can’t sleep anymore without you. Are you working tomorrow night?”
I’m panting for added effect. “Yes.”
“Can I call you again tomorrow?”
“I think I’ll have recovered by then.” I giggle seductively into the phone.
“Goodnight, Cinnamon.”
“Goodnight, handsome. You’ll haunt my dreams tonight.”
He hangs up, and I walk into the kitchen, wearing sweatpants and a giant ratty old wool sweater I got years ago. I grab a Diet Coke from the fridge before my next client calls for his evening naughty talk.
Sitting down at my computer, I look at the project plan for my newest client. We’ve just invested almost two hundred million in a company that is working on a cure for Parkinson’s disease, and I’ll oversee the office manager on-site and coordinate the recruiting and other operational sides of the business.
I pick up my phone, and it lights up, showing I’ve been on the phone with one of the partners for over a half hour. I quickly push the red button to disconnect the call. Fuck! I’d called William to leave him a message about his newest client and what he was trying to accomplish when my second job phone rang. I thought I’d disconnected the call. Crap.
Living in San Francisco is expensive. My one-bedroom apartment has a rent more than most people’s mortgage, and I don’t have a parking space or washer and dryer, and my view is of the street outside of my third-floor walk-up. Plus, I have a school loan payment of over four thousand dollars a month. I’m drowning in debt, so I took a second job that didn’t require me to have strange people get in and out of my car or actually prostitute my body out to strange men—eww! I’ve gotten to know men too well doing the job, but they don’t know my actual name and only think they know what I look like from the highly photoshopped picture. I make a dollar a minute plus tips, which means over eight hours I earn about two hundred and fifty dollars a night, and I try to work at least six nights a week. It pays my school loans and puts a dent in my rent, but it’s often lonely. I haven’t been out with my friends for so long they’ve stopped asking.
My phone rings again.
“Hello, handsome.”
“Cinnamon, do you have some time to talk?”
“Jeffery?”
“Oh, sorry. Yes, this is Jeffery.”
“Of course. What’s wrong?”
“My company is going public, and I’m freaking out. I just need to hear the calm in your voice to get me off the ledge.”
“I’m here for you, baby. Just imagine me cuddled up next to you.”
“I love how soft your breasts are.”
“You’re so naughty when you play with my nipples.” I moan into the phone. “I’ll promise to stroke that beautiful cock, but only if you tell me what’s bothering you.”
He goes through the litany of challenges that he’s facing. I want to tell him he should have invested with my company SHN, but first that would be too close to home, and second, I’m not exactl
y sure who Jeffery is, but I don’t really want to find out.
Most of my job is to listen to the men who call. Some want to have a physical release when they talk to me, and others just need a sympathetic ear. Jeffery keeps me on the phone for over three hours, and when we hang up, I get a message that he’s tipped me five hundred dollars. A good night. I turn my phone off and stop taking calls.
My mind drifts back to my open call with William. I’ve never wanted my professional job to intersect with my second job. They should never mix.
The bile rises in my throat. I don’t know what I’m going to do.
Okay, there are two possibilities. I said goodbye, and he hangs up, and most likely he never listens to all of my message. Or he listens and tells everyone, and not only am I beyond embarrassed, but I’ll most likely lose my job, and then I’m in serious trouble with my bills.
Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck! I can’t believe I was careless. Shit.
What am I going to do? How am I going to explain this to him?
What if he thinks I was talking to him? Oh, gawd! I run my hand through my hair, and I see several strands laced in my fingers, and now I’m sure the stress is making my hair fall out, and I’m going to go bald. Why can’t anything be easy?
I have an idea. Maybe I can go in and erase the message. I search “How to erase voice mail messages on someone else’s cell phone.”
Shit! I’m not a hacker.
Okay. Think, Quinn. Do you know anyone who can hack a phone?
No one.
Cameron from work—maybe? But then I’d have to explain to him why I need him to break into William’s phone.
Breathe.
All right. What did I say to the caller?
Think.
I told him how I liked how my nipples feel against silk. Shit! I’m screwed.
I’m sure he’s the type of guy who would erase the message after I said, “Goodbye.” He may not have even listened to the message to that point.
I hope. I pace my small living room and bite at the nail on my thumb. How can I ever go back to work again? What am I going to say when I see him? Can I avoid him for the rest of my life?
Quinn, how could you’ve been so stupid?
Chapter two
William
I roll over half asleep and say, “Alexa, alarm off.” I cover my eyes and desperately want to go back to sleep, but it’s five, and I need to work out. Pulling on a pair of shorts and tucking my feet in my running shoes, I walk to my home gym in my condo. It’s really the second bedroom, but I don’t have guests, so I have a decent treadmill that I run on each day as I look out on the Golden Gate Bridge. Sometimes, if I feel up for it, I may go for a run up and down the boardwalk, but this time of year there are too many tourists, and it’s just easier to run inside.
Noticing a missed call from last night, I pop my cell phone into the cradle for the speaker on the side table and push play on the message. Once the message is over it will move over to my music. Setting the treadmill for a four-minute mile, I jump on and start running. I love how it clears my head and sets me up for a good day.
“Hey, William. It’s Quinn. I met with the team at Worldwide Payments and have a timeline all set up. I think we’ll be good with one operations person who can double with our help on the recruiting side. I also”—I can hear a phone ring in the background—“think we may need to look at some of the support staff. Let’s talk about it in the morning. Goodnight.”
I wait for the call to disconnect, but it doesn’t.
Then I hear her, in the sweetest, most sultry, southern drawl. “Hello, handsome.”
I almost trip over my feet. It’s quiet a moment, and then I hear her describe giving the guy a blow job. Before I fall off the treadmill, I stop it and walk up to the speaker. She isn’t talking into the phone’s microphone, so I can barely hear her, but I know exactly what she’s saying. Her voice is so fucking hot. And since I know what she looks like, I wonder what it would be like to have her going down on me.
Holy fucking shit! My cock could pound nails right now it’s so hard.
I know I should disconnect the call and erase the voice mail, but I’m so aroused I can’t bring myself to do it. I listen for the entire length of the call, and she finally tells whomever she’s talking to “Goodbye,” I can’t help but stroke myself.
Who could she have been talking to? A boyfriend? I’ve never had phone sex like that, but I’d sure like to.
I’m not in any serious relationship. I have a few girls I see when I need a date or want some fun, but no one who talks to me like that.
She disconnects from the call, and I then hear her hum the sweetest melody.
I’ve always thought Quinn was stunning. She’s blonde, with an incredible rack and legs that I wouldn’t mind wrapped around my waist while I pounded into her. Okay, I only thought that last part since I heard her talking on the phone. I don’t mix my personal life with my professional life, so I try to only admire my female colleagues from afar.
Holy crap. How will I ever look at her again and not have a huge hard-on?
I glance at the clock, and unless I get a move on, I’m going to be late for work.
The water is warm as I ease myself into the shower, and I keep replaying her sultry voice saying, “I want to please you.” I begin to stroke myself until I shower the wall with my orgasm.
How am I going to be able to get through the day and not want to bend her over my desk and pound her hard from behind?
As I walk into the office, I can’t help but look around for her. I don’t see her. She has a cubicle on the other side of the office, and we rarely interact.
I finally spot her. Her hair is up in a ponytail—easier to pull her deeper on my cock, I think as I fantasize about her.
She’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater and black pants with a pair of sexy stilettos—I wonder what her underwear looks like? I wonder, if I were to tweak her nipples, would she moan in appreciation or knee me in the balls? Probably the latter.
I need to get my mind out of the gutter. I need to forget the message and focus on Worldwide Payments. My deal has been funded, and the goal is to finalize the software with Cameron’s team over the next year and prepare to take them public. Without Quinn’s help, my deal will go south, and not only will the company be out of their investment, but I’ll be out of a job.
She did leave a message saying we would talk about my issue today. I’d also like to include Mason, Cameron, and possibly someone from his team to do some planning. I check everyone’s calendars and send out an invite for a meeting tomorrow afternoon to discuss.
As I push send, I look over in Quinn’s direction. I watch her pop up and look at me. I glimpse a pink flush cover her face, and even that makes me hard. I look away.
What is this woman doing to me?
Chapter three
Quinn
I turn the lights on as I walk into the office. Looking around, there is a lot of glass and spots of color. This is a cool place to work, and I love the people who work here. They are bright, funny, and a few I would call my friends.
I live in a cubicle. It’s a big one by our standards, but it doesn’t have a door. At seeing my photos and mementos of clients, tears begin to pool in my eyes. I’m going to miss this place. I brought a banker’s box with me, and I begin to pack my things. I’m careful to take only what is mine. After filling it with my personal items, I pop the lid on the box and put it under a chair in the corner of my cube as Mason arrives.
“Good morning. You beat me into the office this morning.” He smiles at me and continues on to his office.
“A lot to get done today.” I stand, adjust my pants, wiping out the wrinkles, and walk into the kitchen to start the coffee.
If William decides to tell Mason about my side job and they fire me, I can walk out with my head held high. Second jobs are allowed, but we have an ethics clause in our employee agreement, and it’s very clear that we can be terminated if we do some
thing that shines a bad light on the company. While I’ve never told a client where I work or much about me personally, SHN could use this to let me go.
SHN was founded by three guys who went to Stanford together—Mason, Dillon, and Cameron. They were friends who, after finishing school, did really well at three different start-ups. Essentially, they were single with too much money. With their talents in business, finance, and technology, they pooled funds and began to invest in other people’s ideas. Now, ten years later and over fifty employees, we’ve grown, and most of the partners are all listed as billionaires by magazines and news organizations. We are a force to be reckoned with in the start-up world, and there are many companies out there looking to bring us down. Bad publicity will do that.
I dated Mason when we were in business school. I thought he hung the moon, but he was so focused on making money that we’d make plans, and then he’d forget. I finally gave up and broke it off with him. I was hoping that he’d fight for us and beg me to take him back, but instead, he hated me. Everyone said I broke his heart, and after graduation, we went our separate ways.
I started working for “the” venture capital fund right out of grad school—Perkins Klein. I worked my way up, but as the two partners made more money, they got careless. In this business, if you make bad investments, it can destroy you. After a few bad investments and the help of a hacker going after their business, they drove their company into the ground.
Years ago, Perkins Klein attempted to hire Emerson, and that’s where I met her, and we became great friends. SHN made her a better deal. The hacker has been hitting most of the venture capital firms in Silicon Valley, so we began to share information. I would let her know how the hacker was affecting Perkins Klein but never shared any proprietary information. When Perkins Klein went under, I was surprised that SHN offered me a job. I took a cut in pay to work for them, but I was hoping to be on a partnership track. Given my history with Mason, I’ve come to believe that will never happen. Now with my fuckup, I’ll be lucky if I can keep my job.
Enchanted: (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #8): A Fake Fiancée Romance Page 1