Buck Me Cowboy: A Secret Baby Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  Fuck. I was fucked. So I hung my head.

  “What do you want?” I asked defeatedly.

  “A raise of course!” she purred. “You’re going to say I’m the best executive secretary you’ve ever had and pay me the big bucks from here on out. I’m getting paid, I’m getting paid, cha-ching!” she squealed, jerking her fist in a victory motion.

  I realized Jeanette was nasty, and tacky too. It was disgusting and I was positively repulsed by her tactics.

  “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” I asked, my voice wooden.

  “Oh sure,” she said breezily, not even trying to hide it. “I’ve done this to two past employers, both old dudes who really did fuck me. It worked great, I’ve already got enough to retire on from the settlements in those cases, but when I saw you,” she paused. “I knew I had to try again.”

  And I just shook my head. Rich men are always targets of gold-diggers, and this was a gold-digger of the worst type.

  “How much do you want?” I asked.

  “Let’s see,” said Jeanette. “There’s my hairdresser, my manicurist, my pedicurist, my facialist, oh and my rent. Let’s make it twenty thousand a month.”

  Twenty thousand a month? That was highway robbery for a secretary, a fuckpile of cash for someone who booked plane tickets and took notes.

  But my expression remained unchanged because in the scheme of things, twenty thou wasn’t that much. Sure, it was a lot for a secretary, but it was nothing to Luxor Corp. Not even a drop in the bucket, not even a rounding error. It if I could buy her silence with it, why not? I’d find some way to fire her in a year, get this Medusa out of my hair.

  So I pretended to think about it, pulling my face into a serious frown.

  “How do I know you won’t file suit?” I asked, my brows lowered.

  Jeanette smiled at me coyly.

  “You don’t know,” she purred. “That’s the chance you’re taking while I have my insurance,” she said, running her hands up and down the bodysuit. And as I watched, mouth agape, she began pulling it off, stepping out of the bodysuit delicately, making sure not to tear or rip the sheer nylon in any way, folding it into a small square once she was done. “Insurance, get it?” she laughed throatily, waving the fabric in my face. “This outfit’s my insurance.”

  And I just growled, feeling trapped between a rock and a hard space. Fuck, it was Monica Lewinsky all over again with her blue dress.

  “Fine, I’ll do it,” I spat. “Twenty thousand it is.”

  Jeanette smiled evilly.

  “Make sure the first ten is deposited in my account by tomorrow morning,” she sang, sashaying out of my office, her bare ass swinging. “Otherwise the deal’s off.”

  And I just shook my head again, feeling powerless and frustrated. I wanted to beat her ass so bad, report her to HR, fuck, report her to the DA for extortion. But my brain held me back. Because it would be cheaper, easier, just to make this all go away by paying her off for a short time. And then I’d find some way to fire her for good, she’d fuck up on the job sooner or later.

  So with a growl, I shot an email to payroll directing them to make an immediate direct deposit into Jeanette’s account, and leaned back at my desk, angry, tense. Fuck! This was so wrong! I swore again, raging at my lot in life. Sure, it’s amazing to be rich as Midas but unlimited wealth comes with its own set of problems, its own set of headaches.

  But all that’s been shoved to the back now because I have Tammy. The brunette is everything a man could want, curvy, sweet, sassy, with a body to die for and a mind in the gutter. She lets me do anything to her, fuck her in the ass, fuck her in the pussy, make her take toys hard and deep, working them into her body, making that little cunt cream and spill with pleasure.

  So I’m all about Tammy now, letting her into my office day in and day out, spending hours a day bending her over my desk and trashing that cunt, spilling my seed on her every which way. I half-expected to hear her footsteps now, a soft knock on my apartment door.

  “Coming!” I called. The Meridien was an exclusive hotel and getting an apartment here wasn’t easy. But money talks, and I’m used to getting my way. It hadn’t been hard swinging an apartment for Tammy, I wanted to keep her close, next to me, with me, on me. Right now she had an apartment on my floor and we spent nights going at it, enjoying each other’s bodies, but I was seriously thinking about moving her into my apartment full time. Fuck, why not? It’d be nice to have her in bed with me the entire night, wake up to her luscious curves, that pretty pink pout wrapped around my dick.

  So I opened the door, expecting to see the brunette dressed in a sassy outfit. But instead, it was the harpy from hell, Jeanette.

  “What the fuck,” I ground out. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  The blonde just pushed into my apartment.

  “That’s a nice greeting,” she said sarcastically. “Shut the door.”

  “Hell no!” I growled back. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re doing next, the door’s staying open.”

  But the blonde launched herself at me, clawing and biting. She was no match for my bulk whatsoever, being about a hundred pounds, but I let go of the door to wrestle her hands behind her and the door swung shut with a solid thunk.

  “That’s better,” she said, panting, her blonde hair askew, licking those red lips evilly. “See, isn’t it better with the door closed? I love how you’re pinning my hands back, Nick, didn’t know you were into impact play.”

  Immediately I let go. I wanted nothing to do with this chick, especially not the slightest hint of anything sexual.

  “Get out, Jeanette, before I throw you out. How the fuck did you get in here anyways?” I growled, glaring at her.

  “Oh the doorman let me in,” she said breezily. “I told him I was your fiancée.”

  My mouth gaped. What the fuck? Fiancée? I was going to have a talk with George tomorrow to discuss better observation skills, not to mention adding this bitch to the blacklist.

  But Jeanette just smiled again, waving her left ring finger in my face. Sure enough a five-carat stunner gleamed from her hand, the rock so blinding it made me squint.

  “I got this from my last victim,” she purred. “He promised that if I went away and never told his wife, I’d get more loot than I ever dreamed of. And it’s true,” she smiled slyly. “I’m a girl from the bad part of Philly and look at me now,” she said, admiring the whopper, studying the glinting jewel. “Wearing a five carat diamond that literally weighs my hand down because it’s so heavy!”

  I shook my head disgusted. The over-the-top gold-diggery was fucking disgusting and this woman really took the cake. Bragging about blackmailing another man, passing herself off as my would-be wife to get past the doorman, they were the machinations of a sick, sick woman.

  But right now, I just wanted to get her out, squeezing her hands tight behind her, making her squeal with a bit of pain, arching her back.

  “Oh Nick!” she cried, “I had no idea you were so bad!”

  “That’s right,” I growled menacingly into her ear, “You have no idea who I am, what I’m capable of.”

  Because I’ve done some messed up shit in my life, taken advantage of others, pressed every edge for what it was worth. All’s fair in the business world and I didn’t get to where I am by being Mr. Nice Guy. Fucked-up shit goes on every day and I’ve contributed more than my share to the pile.

  But the blonde just giggled breathily, her face smushed against the wall now, her voice slightly garbled.

  “Do it then,” she hissed. “Do it, do it.”

  But I realized I was playing right into her arms. Jeanette loved this stuff, was eating it like an anaconda devouring its prey. I was falling into her trap and shook myself, standing up straight, letting her hands go.

  I stepped back, took about five steps back, putting a mile of distance between me and the viper.

  “Get out,” I said harshly, my blue gaze an icy polar gust, the temperature in
the apartment dropping about fifty degrees. “Get the fuck out.”

  At least the blonde did as told this time.

  “Oh you want it,” she huffed and panted, smiling at me sassily. “I know you want it, alpha males like you always do. You act so hard to get, like you’re too good for me but I know your schtick. Your mind’s in the gutter, you’re looking for a whore in the ghetto, not some fake princess.”

  And I stopped for a moment. That was true, I was looking for a whore from the ghetto, just not this particular whore. The whore of my dreams had big brown eyes, jouncing boobies and a sweet disposition, with none of the deviousness and diabolical cruelty that rolled off the blonde in waves. So I didn’t even bother to answer.

  “Get the fuck out,” I lashed out again, rage building in my body, my face tight. “Before I have security come and escort you.”

  “Fine,” smiled the blonde sweetly, her expression full of malice. “But stop acting holier-than-thou, you’re just as bad as me, Nick Martin.”

  And with a quick flip of her head, she was out the door in a second, her high heels leaving imprints in the plush carpet.

  I sank back onto the couch, exhausted from the exchange. What the fuck had just happened? I’d been accosted by Jeanette for the second time in months, she was so fucking wily and ambitious. I was going to have to find some way to steer clear of the bitch, at least until I got her fired for good.

  But her words stuck with me too. Because I knew she was calling it like it is. I can be a dipshit, a complete asshole to people I don’t like, people who are asshats, people who are just fucking annoying. And when she said that my mind was in the gutter, it was true. Look at all the things I’d made Tammy do. Ride the Tool Box even though she’d just lost her virginity. DP her with the Tool Box as my partner, thrusting my dick in her ass as the Tool Box fucked her pussy. Fuck, popped both her cherries within days of knowing her. Shit, I was lucky Tammy hadn’t reported me to the police with the way I used her body, bent her over and made her my fuck slave.

  But that was the good part of it. I knew the brunette loved it, the way her body trembled, the way it shook, jiggled and creamed, the way fluid ran from her pussy in a river, streaming down her thighs, coating everything worth having. And she let me know it too, gazing at me with limpid eyes, gasping with every nasty thing I did to her, panting, “Mr. Martin, yes!”

  And so I resolved to have a talk with her. Tammy was everything I was looking for and more, and this encounter with Jeanette had only made it even more obvious. Move into my apartment? Shit, that wasn’t enough, nowhere near enough. I wanted to do more than that. I wanted to make Tammy mine … permanently.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Tammy

  I tiptoed down the hallway wearing nothing but bootie shorts and a sheer tanktop. It was cold in the hall, the A/C on high but I didn’t care. I’d be in Nick’s apartment soon enough, his big arms around me keeping me warm, his hot dick inside me like an internal heater.

  So I giggled a little, making my way silently down the hall. Ever since moving into Le Meridien, life’s been a dream. I still see Nick at work every day, showing up to his office via the secret passageway, engaging in all sorts of raunchy acts that would make a virgin blush. Oh yeah, I’d taken the Tool Box up my ass next, letting it pound me from behind, and then sucked off the toy as Nick watched with avid eyes, the ass to mouth so dirty and depraved. But we were only getting warmed up because that night I showed up at his apartment and we did DP with the Tool Box again, the dildo pounding my cunt as Nick creamed wetly in my ass. And this time the big man sucked the fake penis, licking my beautiful pussy nectar off the toy.

  So yeah, we’ve been going at it regularly now days and nights, and it’s elevated our game, made us into the most disgusting pair living in New York, our sex fluid everywhere, going at each other non-stop. And I love it, I absolutely love being his fuck doll, taking him as he took me, finding ecstasy in each other’s arms.

  Take last week for example. After a particularly hot session, he’d collapsed on me, his big body practically burying me in the bed.

  “Ooph!” I’d cried, my voice muffled in the sheets. “You’re heavy.”

  “Sorry baby,” he’d rasped, not shifting an inch. “You’ve literally worn me out, drained me of every drop, I can’t move, you’re just going to have to live with it.”

  And I’d giggled from under him, slapping his bicep with a small hand. Truth was, I didn’t want him to move just yet, didn’t want him to pull out, his hot dick felt so good inside.

  “Mmm,” I moaned into the sheets, gyrating my hips slightly. “That’s true, you feel hard still, big boy.”

  And the big man had just laughed into my shoulder, his massive body shaking with tremors on top of mine.

  “You’re such a slut, you know that? With such a slutty cunt.”

  Mmm, I loved when he talked nasty to me, it made me burn, my insides churning with lust. So I just smiled back and purred, “But it’s your slutty cunt, this slutty cunt’s all yours.”

  And his eyes immediately flared again, hot streaks appearing across his cheeks although it was close to morning and we’d been going at it tirelessly, stopping only to catch our breaths before tearing up the sheets once more.

  “That’s true, isn’t it?” he murmured into my neck, his hand wandering down to stroke my snatch, the fat lips still surrounding his cock, gripping it like it was the best candy. “This is my beautiful pussy, I own it.”

  And I just moaned against him, stretching, before placing a deep kiss onto his mouth, a soulful exchange that had both of us panting and gasping for more. I felt like my heart was about to explode from my chest, showing him with my kisses, my actions, that he meant so much to me, that I loved being with him.

  So it was with excitement that I padded down the hall to Mr. Martin’s apartment later that day. I knew beyond a doubt that we’d be locked in each other’s arms in a nano-second, my clothes off and his dick in, making me shudder and scream with pleasure.

  Except something was off, my senses on high alert as I drew closer. I’d gotten back a little early today and had decided to come by his apartment early as well, before our usual time of 10 or so. Surely, an hour or two extra of hot sex was right up his alley?

  I stopped before the door, my hand up to knock but something made me pause, my spidey sense tingling. What was it exactly? The scent of some heady fruit, like citrus, or pineapple, or coconut, I wasn’t sure what. But Nick definitely didn’t use cologne or aftershave that smelled like that, his stuff was woodsy, all man.

  And sure enough, a woman’s voice rang out from inside.

  “Mr. Martin,” it purred, “I had no idea you were so bad.”

  And what followed was a muffled shriek, a small bang against the wall and then Nick’s unmistakable low growl.

  “You’re a fucking slut,” he rumbled through the door. “A fucking slut.”

  And the woman let out a low whine then, her pleasure maximized as she panted heavily.

  “I’m a slut but you love it,” she breathed in return. “You fucking love it.”

  And I stood completely still in disbelief, my hand still raised to knock, dressed in nothing but the flimsiest of outfits outside the door. Was this really happening? My pulse fluttered wildly, beating at a million miles a minute as my stomach dropped like a lead weight, a sudden wave of nausea overcoming me.

  Because was it possible? Was it possible that Nick was sleeping with multiple women, that I wasn’t his one and only? Was it possible that I was nothing to him, merely a typist for hire, a faceless girl among the millions that he regularly banged?

  And my face flamed, my mouth snapping shut with a click. Of course. I was no one, had never been anyone. An eligible bachelor for decades, Nick probably had a black book as thick as an encyclopedia and I’d been the flavor du jour, nothing more. And when he got bored all it took was a phone call, a few words, and another woman was at the ready.

  My face flamed, shame and
humiliation coursing through my body. My hand dropped limply to my side and I backed away from the door like it was a nuclear waste site, filled with toxic materials and leaking fumes. My chin trembled and to my utter shock, hot tears began coursing down my cheeks, my nose starting to run as my mouth blubbered silently.

  I ran the rest of the way down the hall, back to the safety of my own apartment. I couldn’t stay at the Meridien anymore, I had to find another place even if it meant moving back to the Bronx, my old neighborhood with the high crime and shady neighbors. I didn’t care what it cost me, this job, this apartment, my future, I just had to get out, the pain unbearable.

  But as I fumbled for my key, the door to Nick’s apartment opened and Jeanette pranced out, her hair a mess, clothes askew, her red lipstick smudged like she’d just sucked a dick. I ducked behind a pillar, not breathing, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t see me.

  And evidently she was so delirious with her orgasm that she wobbled on her heels, giving the man inside a small wave.

  “Bye big guy,” she purred, licking her lips lasciviously, making that red pout positively glisten in the low lights of the hall. “See you tomorrow.”

  And slowly she turned and walked down the hall to the elevators unsteadily, even pausing to brace herself against the wall as if her cunt was sore, achy from a pounding sex session.

  Without uttering a peep, I waited until she was gone before letting myself into my apartment. Oh my god, what had I just witnessed? Jeanette? Really, Jeanette? That woman was the opposite of me, tall, blonde and nasty, always shooting dirty looks at anyone who took a moment of her boss’s time. What did she have that I didn’t?

  But the little voice in my head spoke then. She has a ton that you don’t, it said. You were just a momentary distraction. Jeanette’s been with Nick for years now, he’s been trashing her pussy for years. And now that he’s tired of you, it’s back to his number one girl … the blonde. Not you, her.