by Mia Carson
She blushed furiously. I had my answer before she said a word. “No.”
I watched her in the mirror. “Did you like it?”
She looked at my reflection, her eyes dancing as her face split with a huge smile. “It was amazing.” She paused and checked for feet in the stalls before continuing. “It was everything I thought it would be. We stopped Saturday evening in a motel somewhere, and we spent the entire night shagging. He probably thinks I’m a slag.” She must have seen the confusion on my face. “A whore.”
“It wasn’t your first time, was it?”
“No, but it was the first time with an American.”
“And?” I prompted.
“And…the lads back home could learn a thing or two…or maybe I just like someone with a little more experience.”
She was beaming, and I couldn’t help but smile with her. “What’s his name? Maybe I know him.”
“Randy. Randy something. Carson. Cardon. Something like that.”
“Probably Carson. That’s a common name.” I shook my head. “Don’t recognize the name off the top of my head, so he’s probably not one of my regulars. What kind of bike?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. A Harley-Davidson. It was black.”
That narrowed it down to most of them. “Did it have saddle bags and a windshield?”
“No.”
“So either a Dayna or a Softail then, probably.”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
“I think so. I couldn’t get away with Thom out of town, but now that he’s back…”
I nodded. “That’s good. A girl needs her toes curled now and then.”
“He can certainly do that.” She paused and licked her lips. “Are you and Mr. Gregg…?”
It was my turn to blush. “Yeah.”
“I thought so. He seems very happy.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He’s always been a nice, friendly guy. But since you came over for spaghetti that night, he’s been even more, what’s the word, playful maybe.” She looked down. “I can understand why. You’re so beautiful.”
“Oh stop,” I scolded.
“No really. You’re like a model. Not like me.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re very pretty.”
“You think? I’m so skinny and—”
“Do you know how many American women would kill their first born to have a body like yours?”
She grinned. “I don’t mean to sound judgmental, but most Americans are fat.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Especially here in the south.” I nodded at the door. “But can you blame us? Look at how we eat.”
“You’re not fat.”
“No, but I’ve started running with Thom so I don’t get that way.”
“I like Mr. Gregg,” she said, and she had a slightly wistful look about her.
I bobbed my head in agreement. “He seems like a nice guy.”
“He’s handsome too. Different from Randy, but still…”
“What’s Randy like?”
“How I imagine an American biker to be. Leather jacket, sun glasses, boots.”
That described most Harley riders. “I seem to recall you like the bad boy look.”
“Is that what you call it? Yes, I do. It’s very…American, and very sexy.”
I wanted to warn her about bad boys, but it was none of my business. Besides, even doctors and lawyers liked to dress up and play bad boy when they were tooling around on their hogs. Maybe he was a poser. I hoped so for her sake.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” I replied.
“What’s Mr. Gregg like?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what’s he like when Bailey isn’t around.”
“You mean, what’s he like in bed?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to answer that.
“No, not that so much. I just wonder what he’s like when I’m not around. He treats me…I don’t know how to describe it, maybe like I’m part of his family.” She glanced at the door. “Taking me out for my birthday? He gave me two-hundred and fifty dollars as a gift yesterday. I just work for him. I don’t understand why he treats me the way he does, giving me money, taking me out for dinner on my birthday, treating me almost like he treats his own son, so I wondered if he was like that with you.” She blushed again. “I mean, other than you two sleeping together, or course.”
“I think what you see is how he is.” I paused, but if I was ever going to ask the question, now was the time. “Has he ever tried to…?”
She knew exactly what I was implying. “No. Never.”
“Then I think you have your answer. When I first met you, I was a little put off by you living there. He told me to think of you as his daughter. I think, in a way, he does feel some responsibility for you. I think that’s just the kind of guy he is.”
She nodded. “When I first arrived, I was scared to death. I was so afraid I would do or say something wrong and offend him, or someone else. He’s been very kind and patient with me. I know his neighbors think I’m sleeping with him, but he tells me to ignore them. I’m going to be sorry to go home when my time is up. He treats me better than my own family does.”
She looked down. I could tell she liked it here. “Should we go? Thom is probably wondering what we’re doing in here.”
She perked up. “Yes. I could use a cuppa.”
“Cuppa?”
“Cup of tea.”
I smiled, wondering how we could share a common language and her still be so hard to understand.
It had almost stopped raining by the time we left, and the four of us engaged in lively conversation most of the way home. I liked Bláithín, and I didn’t begrudge her getting the hard one, but she was going to have to share the weekends.
I certainly didn’t love Thom, but I did want him. I enjoyed his company tremendously, even when he wasn’t working me into a froth in the bedroom, but that didn’t mean I was willing to let her have all the fun.
It wasn’t my place to say anything, but if Thom started giving her every weekend off, we were going to have to work out another arrangement. Clearly Thom wasn’t ready for me to spend the night in his bed, probably because of Bailey, but waking up in his arms like I had in San Diego was something I needed a lot more of in my life.
Thom
I stepped into my hotel room and flopped into a chair, putting my feet on the bed with a sigh. I’d come to Dallas to try to get a handle on why AML—Advanced Machine Learning—was burning through their capital at a far faster rate than predicted. There was no doubt the small team working on the project was brilliant, but they weren’t good at handling money and seemed to think my pockets had unlimited depth. They’d moved into a much larger, much nicer facility, and they’d hired several more people.
We’d had some frank discussions this afternoon. I didn’t mind them moving into a larger space since they were all but sitting on each on top of other in their previous offices, and while I didn’t expect them to work in squalor, the location they’d selected was over the top. I was also less than pleased that the additional staff they’d hired didn’t seem to have clearly defined responsibilities. In short, they were acting like a company that had already made it, not one living on my benevolence.
I was meeting with them again the next day and expected a clear and concise explanation of what they were going to do moving forward and how they were going to rein in their runaway expenses, if they wanted additional funding from me. I owned forty percent of AML, and I held their lives in my hand. I left them with the thought of what would happen if I dumped my holdings in an attempt to recover my investment. I had no immediate plan to do so, but they needed a wakeup call, and I was giving it to them.
They weren’t pleased with me. I could see the fear in their eyes, but I didn’t care. If they wanted my continued investment, I gave them two options: get their house in order themselves or I wo
uld put someone in place that would do it for them. I’d attended the business school of hard knocks and knew what it took to get a business off the ground. I shouldn’t have been able to do what I did, starting PhoneBabel from nothing like I had, but at the time I was too ignorant to know better. The one lesson I’d learned better than any other was you didn’t piss money away on frivolous items, like luxury offices and unnecessary staff. Not on my dime.
I breathed out another sigh. They weren’t stupid, and I was pretty sure they’d gotten my message. Tomorrow I’d find out if they had what it took to run their business the way it needed to be run or if I was going to have to hire a team to run it for them.
I pulled out my phone and dialed. It was eight in Charlotte and I wanted to talk to Bailey before he went to bed.
“Gregg residence,” Bláithín said.
“Hello, Bláithín. I called to tell Bailey good night.” I called him every night when I was out of town, without exception.
“He’s right here,” she said.
“Dad!” Bailey’s voice sounded a heartbeat later.
“How’re you doing, pal?”
“Great. Bláithín and I played Monopoly tonight.”
“Who won?”
“Nobody, yet, but I think I’m winning. I own all four railroads.”
I smiled. Bailey loved the railroads, and because he had to be the banker, he was practicing his math without even knowing it.
“Go easy on her, okay? She’s still new to the game.”
“I know.”
Bailey and I talked for a few minutes more about school, homework, and other inconsequential topics. “Okay, buddy. I need to go, okay? I’ll be home tomorrow.”
“Will you be here when I get home from school?”
I did a few mental calculations. “No, probably not, but I should be home for dinner.”
“Okay. I’ll see you when you get home. Love you, Dad.”
“Love you too. See you tomorrow.”
We hung up and I smiled at the phone. I opened the text app. Finished for the night. Can you talk? I pressed send and tossed the phone onto the table to wait for Carolyn’s reply.
I’d asked her to come with me, but she’d declined. I could understand her reasoning, but I still wished she’d been able to make it. I didn’t know if Bláithín had plans for this weekend, but if she did, she was going to have to make some time for me to see Carolyn. During the week, when I was home, she had her evenings free as long as she respected my midnight curfew. She could give up a Friday or Saturday night for me and Carolyn to do something if she had every weeknight free.
I was toeing my shoes off when my phone rang. I glanced at the number and smiled. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”
“You busy?”
“Doing a load of laundry, but I think I can squeeze you in.”
“How was your day?” I asked.
“Same as always. Did you lay the law down?”
“I think they got the message.”
We talked about our days for a few minutes, idle chit-chat that meant nothing but that filled me with serenity.
“Wish you were here.”
She sighed. “I wish I was there too. But you know, work.” She paused for a moment. “I was thinking about you today.”
“I’m flattered.”
“Want to know what I was thinking about?”
“What?” I asked, playing along.
“First, what are you wearing?”
“Same thing I always wear. Why?”
“Want to know what I’m wearing?”
A smile teased my lips. “I do now.”
“You remember that blue negligée I bought for you?”
“Are you really?”
“Hang on.” There was a long moment of silence. “I am now.”
“Now I really wish you were here.”
“The bed is so cold without you here.” I gripped the phone more tightly, wondering what she was going to say next. “I’m lying back, waiting for you.”
She paused, and as the silence lengthened, I realized she was waiting for me to say something. I’d never done anything like this before. I could hear her softly breathing and I swallowed hard. “I step into the room,” I said, feeling a little uncomfortable but willing to play the game if she wanted to.
“I smile,” she continued. “Your body is gleaming, fresh from the shower. You’re wearing nothing but a towel. I lick my lips. I want you. I want you so badly.”
As the pause lengthened, I realized it was my turn. “You’re so sexy, lying in the bed. The way you look at me makes my heart pound,” I said, picking up the narrative.
“I can see your big, hard, cock under the towel.”
“I watch as you caress your breast with a finger, your sexy smile making me ache for you.” My lips quirked, and I shook my head. I was getting a hard-on.
“You join me on the bed, leaving your towel behind. My mouth waters with the thought of tasting you. I pull you into the kiss, my hand wrapping around your cock.” She paused, but before I could say anything, she continued. “Tell me how it feels.”
I flushed. I felt stupid, but her voice had lowered into a sexy purr. I didn’t know if she was faking it or if she was really turning herself on. I pushed down my reservations.
“I moan into the kiss as you stroke me. It feels so fucking good. I reach between your legs, my fingers teasing you—”
“Yes,” she gasped.
Fuck it! I decided to go all in. “I move from your lips and take your breast into my mouth. I tease the nipple with my tongue and it hardens. I smile. I love giving you pleasure, hearing your moans and making you squirm. I—”
“I pump your cock harder, your kisses making me hot. Can you feel me stroking your big, fat cock?” she sighed.
“I moan,” I replied. Her sexy sighs and breathy descriptions were horning me up. I opened my pants and took my manhood into my hand. “I move lower, kissing down your body. You taste so good,” I continued as I unbuttoned my shirt. “You—”
“I roll to my side,” she interrupted, “taking your cock into my mouth. You—”
“I taste you,” I said, cutting off her thought. “You taste so good. I hold you to my mouth as I lick, nibbling you. I press—”
“Fuck,” she breathed as I heard movement. “I take you deep, all—”
“I groan as you swallow me, but I begin kissing you harder, my tongue probing into all your secret places. You begin moving, unable to be still. You grab my head and hold me to your pussy as I lick and kiss.”
“I can tell you’re close to coming,” she breathed.
I stroked my cock, spreading my slickness with my slow strokes. “And so are you.”
“I tell you not to stop.”
“I don’t. I moan. I don’t want to come, but your mouth feels so fucking good. Your moans—”
“Tell you I’m about to come—” she finished for me.
“You cry out.”
“I’m coming,” she breathed.
“You cry out that you’re coming, but I don’t stop. I want you to come. I want to make you scream in pleasure” I paused, expecting her to say something, but when she was silent I continued. “You moan as I taste you, flicking your clit with my tongue. I love making you come. You moan again, long and loud as you start coming.”
She sighed. “Already did. Did you?”
“Wait, what?” I asked with a brief chuckle. “You came? Really?”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “You didn’t?”
“No.”
She sighed again. “Don’t talk. Just listen. I want you to come.” She paused. “You made me come so fucking hard, but I need to feel you inside me. You always fuck me so good. You roll me over and stab your big fat cock into me. It feels so fucking good that I can’t be quiet and scream as you fuck me hard. You feel so good. I beg you to fuck me harder, and you do. Can you feel your big cock in my tight little pussy?”
“Yes,” I murmured, my
hand slowly stroking my cock as I slumped lower into the chair.
“You’re fucking me so good, like I’ve never been fucked before. I scream again as I thrash around on the bed. You’re making me come again. My pussy squeezes your cock hard as I come. You kiss me as you fuck me.”
I closed my eyes and allowed her voice to wash over me, watching us in my mind’s eye as I took her, pounding into her, her arms wrapped tightly around my back as I plunged into her. My orgasm began to overtake me as my breathing became harder.
“You come,” she continued, her voice low and sexy, “filling me, but I won’t let you stop fucking me. I come again, hard, and I scream as I hold you to me. ‘Don’t stop! Don’t stop fucking me!’ You feel so fucking good I—”
I gasped as I ejaculated onto my stomach, straining back into the chair and groaning softly as the phone fell from between my shoulder and cheek.
“Fuck,” I sighed, wiping my hand on my shirt and searching for my phone.
“Thom?” she was saying as I put the phone back to my ear.
I blew out a cleansing breath. “Well, that was a new experience.”
“Did you come?”
“Yeah. Made me drop the phone.”
“Good boy,” she purred, like she was talking to that bear of a dog she was walking when I first met her.
“I really miss you now. I need a cuddle.”
“I know the feeling, but at least I’ll be able to sleep tonight.”
“Yeah, same here. You’ve done this before?” I asked.
“Never. Why?”
I shook my head even though she couldn’t see it. “You’re good at it.”
“Just putting into words what I wanted you to do to me. Besides, you’re pretty good at it yourself.”
I smiled. “Just putting into words what I want to do to you.”
“You’ll be home tomorrow?” she asked, her voice softer.
“That’s the plan.”
“Think we can find some time to do in person what we just talked about?”
“I was thinking that Bláithín will have to give up either a Friday or Saturday night. Do you have preference?”
“Both?”
I sniffed out a chuckle. “That wouldn’t be fair.”
