Thirsty Thursday (The Billionaires Temptations Book 4)

by Annalise Wells

  "Angie did say she would look first, but the way she is nosing around with Scott, I think she will jump at the chance."

  "I think you might be right, having an experienced faced around the place could help, especially around opening time," I say.

  Scott and Angie walk back. I see they have smiles on their faces. They actually appear to be getting on well considering they have only just met.

  "What are you two so happy about?" I ask.

  "We were just looking around, and we have realized you might need some help," Angie says.

  "Do you want me to transfer you?" There are more than enough girls at Shona's club," I say.

  "Depending what Shona says, it’s fine by me," she says. Scott’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas morning.

  Angie throws her arms around Scott and lifts her feet off the ground. To me, it looks like there is another reason why she wants to be here. If she’s happy her work will show that.

  "I have to speak to Orlando in private, so make yourselves at home and have a drink. Get familiar, we start working tomorrow," I explain.

  Angie and Scott. "No problem, we will see you tomorrow."

  I head up to the apartment with Orlando. He sits on the couch and removes his shoes. I stand behind him and start massaging his shoulders.

  "Did you know you can see Brooklyn Heights from our roof?" I ask.

  "Yes, it surprised me to start with."

  "The Kingmaker is in Brooklyn Heights."

  "Really? I wonder if we could spot him from here?" Orlando asks.

  I run my hands over the hard muscles of Orlando's chest. My mouth comes close to his ear.

  I whisper. "That is what I wanted to speak to you about," I say softly.

  Orlando spins around in his seat and stares at me. "You mean you want to take out The Kingmaker from here?"

  "Yes, we were looking at it as a possibility, no need to get up close. Just get rid of him," I say plainly.

  "That is a hell of a shot. The river, the wind, even the surrounding buildings will play a part in it," Orlando explains.

  "Now you can see why I am talking to you."

  "So, who would take the shot?"

  "That would be Ty, he said he could do it, he just needs a spotter.""I can survey the area, but I need to see how he shoots under my control. Who is getting the rifle?"

  "Joseph will be dealing with that, I am sure he will come up with something more than ideal," I say.

  "I know of the perfect weapon. I have seen one, but getting hold of it, I have no idea how," he says.

  "What type is it? I will get Stacey to ask him.”

  "He needs to look for an SVLK 14S Twilight," Orlando says.

  It may be a long time ago when he did this, but his eyes sparkle when he mentions the type of gun we need to use. What a mouthful.

  "I will also need a spotting scope to match… and a range finder."

  I note everything down. "That should be easy. You can start a primary survey and then as soon as we get the stuff we can go through a dry run," I explain.

  "Just like the good old days," Orlando says.

  "I had a feeling you were going to enjoy this," I say.

  "Some things you are born for. I was just born for two. Spotting and fucking!" He laughs.

  "Who is bragging now?" I ask, getting aroused by his sexiness.

  "Someone has to blow their own trumpet," he says.

  "Does that mean you want me to blow your trumpet?"

  "Now there’s a thought. No one is going to walk in on us, and they can't see from outside," he says smiling. “Are you thirsty, my Thursday girl.”

  "I thought you had enough of cocks for today?" I ask, biting my lip.

  "That was other guys cocks, my own is a very different beast," Orlando replies. His eyes move down over my body.

  I push Orlando back onto the couch. He looks up at me and smiles. I spread his knees as he pulls open the buckle of his pants. He lifts his ass and pulls his pants and shorts down to his knees.

  I see his shaft starting to swell. I run the tips of my finger on the underside of his growing cock. He sighs with pleasure as I tease under his head. My fingers squeeze around the base of his shaft as I feel his building pulse. He throbs inside my tightening clutches. His turgid shaft reaches a full erection, just for me. His manhood twitches inside my grasp.

  I pull back, his head is taut and smooth. I dribble saliva onto his arousal and massage it into his slit with my thumb. Orlando clutches at the couch and groans in a breathless tone.

  "Fucking hell, that is so sweet," he murmurs.

  I grip his cock hard and pull my hand back. I start to tease under his glands with the tip of my tongue.

  "Ooh my God," Orlando says, tilting his head back.

  His legs quiver as he looks down at me. I see his gaze fixed on my mouth that is tightly wrapped around the head of his firm flesh. I give him a wink and lower my head down his hot, swollen flesh.

  I suck hard, and my tongue swirls around the length of his pulsating shaft. I see him close his eyes. His breath sharpens as I suck hard on the tip of his cock. I reach to the coffee table and take the measure they had used earlier today.

  Orlando opens his eyes with surprise. He looks down at my smiling face. "What are you doing?" he asks.

  I giggle lightly as I hold the rule against his cock. "I just want to see how you measure up against the new guys you have chosen."

  I throw the measure over my shoulder and smile. I lick the slit at the end of his cock.

  "Well, how long is my cock?" he asks.

  “It’s not the size… it’s what you do with it…”

  "Measurements can come in a variety of sizes."

  Orlando

  "Hot cocoa makes everything seem just fine.”

  Joseph had surprised me he could find this rifle so quickly. He did have contacts, and his contacts had contacts, but for a new person entering into the circle of friends and trust, it was surreal. It was a remarkable thing to do.

  Ty and I had arranged to take a trip further up the Hudson to try out his and my skills. Tina and Cally were accompanying us as I had said I was not running two-thousand meters to put another watermelon on a wooden log.

  We drove for about an hour, and we saw the signs for a state park. This would be the ideal target zone. Ty moved out of the vehicle. Ty looked like a hunter with his rifle bag over his shoulder. I had the camping mats and the scopes in an old, battered bag.

  The girls left us and drove further up the road to cross the bridge that led to the park. We had radios to keep in contact. The conditions were similar to the city, but the lack of buildings here could be the deciding influence. Apart from that, we had the approximate distance, and also the wind blowing down from the river.

  We walked up the hill on one of the many tracks that led from the parking areas. It was good this time of year because not many visitors would be in the area.

  We found a small clearing off the track which allowed us to see across the ravine that was laid out before us. We put out the mats and set up the scope and rifle. I checked how far the other side was on the distance reader.

  "Eighteen hundred yards at the closest point," I say.

  Ty huffs. "I hope this gun can allow for my inexperience, the most I have shot is fifteen hundred yards," he says.

  "It is no different, just another couple of clicks on your scope and you will be all right," I explain.

  "I hope you’re right, this is watermelons. Downtown Brooklyn Heights has people everywhere," he says.

  "Shooter one, come in," I hear from the radio.

  "Go ahead Melon Head," I say laughing.

  "Funny," Tina says, over the radio.

  "Where are you?" I ask.

  "There is a pathway horizontal to the road."

  I look from the main road and see the start of the pathway. "Got it," I reply.

  "We walked for about ten minutes, and there is a clearing, you will see a dead tree," Tina replies. She sounds su
per important.

  I move the spotting scope slowly across the path. I finally arrive at the clearing.

  "Gotcha, I can see you both," I reply.

  Ty re-positions himself. The rifle sits on the small stand. He breathes steadily as he looks into the scope.

  "Yup, I can see them now," he says.

  "Stand the watermelons on the tree and get out of the way," I say into the radio.

  Tina sighs a sarcastic sigh. "We are not going to stand here, that is for sure."

  I read the distance to the target. Two thousand yards I can see in the display.

  "Fire one off so we can see how close the scope is," I say, trying to be calm.

  Ty relaxes his body. His breathing slows. He squeezes the trigger. I hear the noise from the rifle and keep my eye fixed on the target. I see a puff of a small pine tree below the target as the bullet finally hits.

  "Three clicks elevation," I say.

  I hear Ty turn the dial on the scope. One, two, three.

  "Again," I say.

  His breathing slows, he pulls the stock close into his shoulder. His finger gently squeezes on the trigger. The gun pops the same as before.

  My eyes are fixed on the watermelons. The bullet hits the old tree.

  "Not bad, at all," I say.

  "You should see the old tree, it fucking exploded," Cally screams into the radio.

  "That is what it is supposed to do," I reply.

  "One click elevation, and one click to the right," I say.

  Ty makes the alteration. He closes his eyes and relaxes his breath.

  "This gun is fucking awesome," he mutters.

  "Yeah, I know."

  He relaxes his shoulders. He takes his position. He breathes, He waits for the pause between breaths and squeezes the trigger. We both stare at the target through our scopes. Watermelon one disintegrates.

  Cally and Tina run into the clearing waving their arms in the air.

  "Take that motherfucker," Cally screams.

  "Stand back, we have to make sure it is not just a lucky shot," I say.

  Ty looks up at me and frowns. "Don't worry, that is for their benefit," I say, smiling.

  Ty readies himself. He puts another round in the chamber and closes the bolt.

  Again, he squeezes the trigger between breaths. Melon number two vaporizes.

  "Woo hoo," Cally screams down the radio.

  Ty continues, the final three watermelons join their friends in watermelon heaven. One after another they explode as the rifle makes its mark.

  "Do they have anything smaller than a watermelon?" Ty asks.

  "Have you got anything smaller?" I ask.

  "We have a soda can, is that too small?" Tina asks. Cally is still shrieking in the background.

  I look across at Ty. "I think if I can hit that. I can hit anything," he says.

  "Put the soda can on the tree," I say into the radio.

  I watch through the scope. I see Tina place the can on the tree.

  "You ready?" I ask Ty.

  "Never been more ready," he replies.

  "Start walking back to the car. This is the final shot of the day," I say over the radio.

  I see Tina through the scope waving across the ravine.

  "This is it," I say to Ty.

  "The Kingmaker may be meeting his maker quicker than he thinks," Ty says.

  I notice the wind has started to blow a little stronger down the river.

  "One click to the right, the wind speed has increased," I say.

  Ty makes the adjustment. He pulls the rifle in close. He breathes for the final time and squeezes the trigger.

  Silence follows the noise from the rifle. We stare. The soda can spirals into the air shooting froth onto the surrounding area.

  "Right on man," I say to Ty.

  "It was not dead center, but at least it is a hit," he replies.

  I start packing up the scopes as Ty puts the rifle into the reinforced case.

  "The Kingmaker is a dead motherfucker," I say.

  "The good thing is, at that distance, it is not like killing someone," Ty replies.

  "Have killed anyone?" I ask him.

  "Not really. I have shot one or two, but they never died," Ty says.

  "Just think how much grief he could bring to all of you," I say.

  "I suppose, yes," Ty says. He has a big heart. He is a very kind man.

  We make our way back down the path. Tina is already waiting on the road. We put the stuff in the trunk of the four by four and climb onto the rear seat.

  "What happened with the can of soda?" Cally asks.

  Ty laughs. "Pisshhh."

  "I could do with a warm drink. It is not the warmest place to lay down," I say.

  "We passed a diner, we can grab something warm there," Tina says.

  "Hot cocoa and a sandwich sounds very nice," I say.

  "I am definitely in favor of that," Ty says.

  We arrive at the diner and make our way inside. We sit by the window and look at the Hudson River as it makes its way toward the city. Tina stands at the counter ordering as Ty's cell phone rings.

  "Bob, what's up?" he asks into the mic.

  He puts him on speaker. "I have the outline for the agency base," Bob says.

  "How does it look?"

  "You have broken into harder places from what I can see," Bob says.

  "That is good to hear. Get the other guys to have a look at it later. We are out of town." Ty says.

  "Mikey and Tyler are available, shall I send them?" Bob asks.

  "Perfect, ask them to check for cameras and alarms," Ty says.

  "Okay, we should have a better idea by the time you get home," Bob says.

  "Keep me updated. Especially if you find the location."

  "I will, Bart is busy triangulating cell phone signals from Brooklyn Heights," Bob replies.

  "Good. We have something planned for him." Ty hangs up the call.

  "Hot cocoa and a ham and toasted cheese sandwich," Tina says.

  She slides herself onto the seat next to me. "What was the conversation about?"

  "It appears phase two is just around the corner," I reply.

  "The sooner it is all over, the sooner we can all get on with a peaceful life, once and for all. Measuring cocks," Tina says, with a wide grin.

  Cally raises her mug of hot cocoa. "Here is to a peaceful life, measuring cocks."

  "A peaceful life to all," we say together. I laugh at the cheekiness of our women.

  "Hot cocoa makes everything seem just fine.”

  Tina

  "Your problem can be my problem. That shows friendship."

  We walk down from the apartment and notice there are no workmen around. All we see are a team of cleaners. Two guys stand by the bar talking. Orlando and I make our way over toward them.

  "Can I help you two?" I ask.

  "You must be Tina. Beau said you would show up," he says.

  "Where are all the constructions guys?" I ask.

  The gray-haired guy with the pencil behind his ear laughs. "They are all finished," he says.

  "All of it?"

  "Every last screw has been tightened, all three floors," he says plainly.

  I stand scratching my head. "Damn, you lot are fast," I say.

  "When you work for Beau, it pays to be fast," he says laughing.

  "I had heard he makes it worth everyone’s while," I say.

  "I don't think there is anything I need to explain. Security is top of the range, and you have cameras feeding from everywhere to the office, just like the other club," the pencil guy explains. "The only thing is a feed to your apartment if you want it?"

  "We are fine at the moment. I don't think we will be up there much to start with," I reply.

  "I reckon a couple of days for the cleaners, they like to get into every corner, and with stocks and moving all your staff in, you can open in say, three days up here. The gym, crèche, and spa can open now if you like," he explains.

  "
We haven't even advertised yet," I say.

  "It doesn't take that long, Shona's club took less than two weeks to be full." I am amazed. Dumbfounded even.

  "It took my old club nearly four months to get to that stage," I say, in truth.

  I shake my head again in amazement. Apart from the noise of the cleaners and the vacuums, anyone would think we were open.

  "Thank you," I say.

  "Right you are Ma'am. We will still be here when you return," the pencil guy says.

  I walk to Orlando who is waiting by the secret elevator.

  "How long?" he asks.

  "We can be open in three days," I reply, still shocked.

  "Holy shit. That is rapid," he replies.

  We walk toward the service elevator on the spa floor. The smell of jasmine already filling the air. Delivery guys are carrying and unpacking boxes of towels, soaps and anything else you can imagine you would need.

  "I don't know how he does it," I say.

  "Well, this is the second spa. Maybe he just had a list already," Orlando says.

  "Maybe."

  We push the button and wait for the elevator to arrive. We hear voices as the elevator reaches our floor.

  The large gate opens. Scott and Angie stand there with thirteen guys standing behind them.

  Orlando smiles. "I see you are ready for your rehearsals?"

  "The sooner, the better, I could see yesterday the construction guys were almost done," Scott says.

  "Three to four days to get them all into shape. Upstairs is all ready for you," Orlando says.

  "If you need anything, Angie, just ask the guy with the gray hair and the pencil behind his ear. He will sort it for you," I explain.

  "Okay. I told the girls to be here in a few hours, let these guys get settled first. I don't want them cumming in their pants during rehearsals," Angie says smiling. I laugh at her words.

  When we reach the car, Orlando slips into the passenger seat as I start the engine.

  "Are you ready for all of this?" I ask.

  "Yeah. I have to let Tommy know at the gym that he can move over to here, and that is my side done," Orlando says. "That is apart from going to Brooklyn Heights on a scouting mission."

  I drop Orlando at the gym. His car still has four functional tires, thank God. I see him walk into the entrance as I leave the parking lot.