Manwhore Heir (The Heirs Book 2)

by Brandy Munroe

  Makenzie removed my tie and began to unbutton my shirt. I let her continue. I wanted her to receive some satisfaction. She was not accustomed to office sex, not aware of the time constrictions. Not aware that there would be no endearing cuddling afterwards.

  I ran my hands up her skirt. I loved the soft smooth skin of her thighs. She wasn’t wearing any hose and her thong barely covered her.

  She was wet. It was not going to take me long to progress her to where I needed in order to take her without being too abrasive.

  I thumbed her clit and stole her moan with my mouth. My cock was uncomfortably pressing against my zipper. I stood from my seat and sat Mackenzie on my desk in one quick motion.

  I was experienced in this and knew where to comfortably place her.

  I was preparing her for what was coming next.

  I was pleased she wore a skirt today; it made for easy access. I pushed her thong to the side and began to work my fingers into her pussy. Her breathing increased and I knew she was ready as she was going to be given my time limit.

  I lowered my zipper.

  Her head snapped off my shoulders, her bright blue eyes wide and staring. There had been no conversation, just pants and moans from both of us.

  I removed my hand from inside her and cupped her face. I took her mouth, plunging my tongue in and out. My cock, now free from its restrains, did not want to wait any longer. It wanted its due, it wanted to feel her insides sheath it like a tight fitting glove.

  Old instinct clicked in. I reached and opened the top drawer of my desk. With the unmistakable tear of the condom wrapper, I rolled it onto my cock.

  I positioned myself between Mackenzie’s legs. Her skirt was bunched around her waist. I gripped her thighs and spread them giving me complete access.

  Our bodies were pressed together. Mackenzie arms were wrapped around me. Her head rested on my shoulders. I entered her with one forceful thrust, pushing myself all the way to the end of my shaft.

  I stilled briefly, giving her body time to adjust. The second I was sure she was ready, I pulled back slowly and thrust all the way in again. I repeated the process a few more times. I knew my time was limited, still I did not want to hurt her.

  I was aware that Mackenzie was unusually quiet. It wouldn’t be the first time she had been quiet during sex. I remembered our time in the tub. Was this another one of those times when she was allowing herself to be lost in the sensation and did not need the theatrics of a loud orgasm?

  Was she controlling herself, afraid to make too much noise because of where we were?

  I was not thinking with my rational head. The one controlling my behavior at the moment was the one winning out. I found my rhythm and continued to push, penetrating her soft, wet opening.

  I was wearing a condom, that fact registered with me that I had taken the time to put on a condom. It felt wrong, I did not have the same satisfaction I felt when we made love.

  She was not matching my actions the way she always did when we made love.

  We were not making love.

  I was having office sex with the woman I loved. Office sex on my desk, like I had done with other women that meant nothing more to me than to satisfy a need.

  Makenzie meant more to me than office sex.

  I felt dirty doing this to her. I was behaving like the manwhore she once accused me of being.

  Why shouldn’t I? That was exactly what I was being. A manwhore. It was the first time I had ever been embarrassed by my past.

  I was too far gone to simply withdraw from her. I needed to complete what I started. I continued to penetrate her with a urge that had nothing to do with enjoyment. I needed to finish the business at hand like I had always done. Treat this like office sex and send her on her way.

  I would make it up to her tonight. I would leave work early, take her to dinner and remind her how it felt to be loved by me.

  To be making love with me.

  I turned my mind off to who I was with and let my more temperamental head lead me to deplete my seed into the condom. When I was empty, I withdrew from her and removed the condom and discarded it into the waste basket under the desk. I reached for the tissue on my desk and took care of any residue before replacing my cock into my pants and lifted my zipper.

  After she was gone, I would take the remaining condoms from my desk and throw them away. I was never going to need those again. I never wanted to take her ever again without the sensation of my raw skin inside her soft walls.

  I straightened her thong into place and brought her to her feet and lowered her skirt. I cupped her face and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Her eyes were glistening.

  I did not know if it was from a pleasurable release, or pain in knowing this was nothing more than sex on my desk.

  “That was beautiful, baby,” I was careful with my tone. I needed her to feel special, to be okay with her choice to come to me today. I also needed her to leave so I could come to terms with my own actions.

  I walked to the door and unlocked it. I was thinking of a gentle way to ask Mackenzie to leave when a knock distracted us.

  It was Haley, there to discuss the proposal I asked Aleksander about earlier.

  I walked over to Mackenzie and kissed her on the forehead. “Thank you for lunch, baby. I really need to get back to work.”

  Aleksander entered my office. “The manufacturer ran into a snag, but I think I found someone who can help,” his eyes shifted from me to Haley. “This could take a while, keep my dinner warm?”

  Haley stood on her tiptoes and kissed Aleksander on the cheek, “Always. Richard, I’ll stop by tomorrow morning to discuss the PR campaign you want to run, okay?”

  “Thanks,” I piped in, “looks like we are going to have a late night.” I took Mackenzie’s hand and give it a gently squeeze. “I’ll try not to be too late, wait up for me?”

  I watched as Mackenzie picked up her handbag and headed to the door, and smiled at Haley. “Would you like a lift home?” Her singsongy tone disturbed me.

  She walked out the door, following Haley.

  I watched the women enter the elevator and my heart sunk. This was not how I anticipated my day going. It couldn’t end soon enough for me.

  I walked into the house after a very long day. It was quiet. It was the first time since Mackenzie moved in that she had not waited up for me, or fell asleep on the couch waiting up for me.

  Why would she? She had wanted to share in a beautiful moment and I treated her like a brute. I took her like she was just another one of my encounters. I was embarrassed by my actions and did not know how to explain it to her.

  Not then, not there in my office.

  I would shower and come to her and remind her how good we were together. I would explain my actions in the office and beg her to forgive me.

  I went to the bar to pour myself a drink. My favorite twelve year old Scotch decanter was eerily depleted.

  An upset Mackenzie, a disappointed Mackenzie, I understood. A upset, disappointed and drunk Mackenzie, that was new territory.

  I notice a box sitting on the living room floor. On the coffee table, papers. The papers from the charters. The very papers that would have her living on the island permanently if they agreed to a merger.

  Plans she had not mentioned since her arrival.

  Did my need to always be the best, always be the one everyone depended on, cost me the one person I needed to be my best?

  The one person I had become depended on?

  What the fuck did I do?

  Chapter 28

  Mackenzie

  Haley kept the conversation general and mundane on the way home. It was like she understood something was amiss and it wasn’t her place to ask. Which was a good thing because I wasn’t even sure what had transpired.

  The man I had lunch with was not the man I had been sharing a house with the past week. The man I had been spending time with was attentive, passionate.

  What took place in Richard’s office I co
uld only describe as cold.

  He used a condom. It was the first time we had made love with a condom. The feeling was foreign and again I could only describe it as cold, impersonal.

  In the moment he removed it and discarded it in the trash, that was how I had felt, discarded.

  The logical part of my brain deduced it was most likely necessary. After all, it wasn’t like Richard could take a shower afterwards, and he still had to finish off his day.

  My intentions were to go to his office and have sex. That was what we did. We had sex in Richard’s office.

  The first time we slept together was just sex. It was about satisfying a longing, a need I was not aware I desired. It may have been just sex, but somehow it did not have the same feeling I had today. The first time was on the island, after I saved Richard from the storm. When he was out sailing in his boat.

  In Rick’s boat.

  Was the man I had been spending my time with Rick and the cold impersonal man I had sex with today Richard? Rick was known to be a passionate, experienced lover and that was what I had enjoyed since my arrival.

  Was I living with Rick, not Richard?

  He told me they were the same person. It wasn’t like he had a split personality. It weighed on my mind that maybe that was why I was having a hard time reconciling having sex in Richard’s office.

  Was that why I felt exposed, like I was just a visitor?

  I was in love with Rick. I was visiting Richard and not all that sure I liked that man. The man I visited in that office, in that building. The man that before I arrived, lived in a beautiful house on the outside, however had no warmth or color on the inside.

  Like his house, Richard was beautiful on the outside.

  Did he have warmth on the inside?

  I went to the kitchen, hoping my appetite would return if I attempted to make something. Opening the fridge, I saw the beers Rick enjoyed when we sat and watched movies together.

  At the end of a long day, Richard would reach for his Scotch. What was so special about that Scotch, I wondered? I headed to the bar and grabbed the decanter. Swishing it around a few minutes, I poured myself a mouthful.

  I didn’t mind the flavor, it wasn’t unpleasant. It didn’t give me the answer I was seeking. What was so special about Richard’s Scotch?

  Scotch neat, he called it. I poured myself half a glass and sipped on it slowly. That was how he enjoyed it. He sipped it slowly.

  I was still not appreciating the appeal. During my experiment in trying to get into Richard’s head, I noticed a box in the corner. A box I had brought with me and put to the side and forgot.

  I took the box to the living room and proceeded to empty the contents onto the coffee table. It was the papers I meant to look over. The papers Richard was going to have his business partner look at before I approached the charter company about a joint venture.

  A venture that would have me living on the island permanently if all went my way. If that was still what I wanted to do.

  Before I realized how much time had passed, I had indulged in too much Scotch. Staring at the papers before me, I began to feel nostalgic. I was remembering how it was being married to Michael.

  The gentle loving husband who never made me feel discarded.

  He never gave me the raw carnal passion Richard had, either. Or was that Rick?

  Alcohol on an empty stomach was not a good idea. I was feeling woozy, lightheaded and homesick.

  I headed upstairs to sleep it off. I would take care of the box in the morning. It might do Richard some good to have his perfectly organized house in dishevel for a change.

  I came out of the shower and wrapped the plush terry robe around me. It reminded me of the soft cotton nightgown I owned. I hadn’t had the occasion to wear it since my arrival.

  I had been sleeping in the nude. A convenience given how often myself or Richard would initiate love making anytime the urge aroused us during the night.

  Tonight he was working late and I was tipsy. There would be no love making tonight. He would not be here to comfort me.

  My mood had turned melancholy. I wanted him to make love to me. I wanted him to erase the memory of the cold impersonal sex we had earlier.

  He was the reason for my discomfort but my body was betraying me. Wanting only his touch, his arms holding me. I wanted his voice whispering in my ear. Calling me baby in his sickly sweet tone.

  I entered the walk in closet and sat in the big armchair in the corner. I needed a minute to recover from the dizziness. What was I thinking, drinking all that Scotch?

  I let the bathrobe fall from my shoulders and hit the floor. I reached for it and put it on the hook behind the door to dry. The realization that I was still sober enough to not want to leave the wet robe on the floor made me smile.

  I slid open a drawer and unfolded my white eyelet cotton nightgown. It was purchased at a fair and was hand made by a local seamstress. The fabric was a brushed cotton that only felt softer over time. It never lost its white sheen the way white often did.

  It was supposed to hang below the knee. My height had it landing a couple inches above. I like the shortness of it. It prevented me from becoming tangled in it during the night.

  Something registered in the corner of my eye. My father’s hunting jacket. The one I gave Richard when he left the island with the Coast Guard.

  He kept it. It still smelled of him. I put it on and remembering how many times I had used it over the years.

  I really should not have drank all that Scotch.

  Emotionally and physically exhausted, I curled up in the arm chair. I needed just a few minutes to refocus, then I would return the hunting jacket to its hanger and head to bed to sleep off the effects of the alcohol.

  I hoped I wouldn’t pay for it in the morning in the form of a hangover.

  I had the sense I was floating. Not floating, being carried. Big strong arms were cradling me. I felt the feeling of being laid down onto something soft. A bed, a soft warm comfortable bed.

  Then a voice, the one I had been waiting for.

  “Let me help you take off the jacket, baby. You’ll sleep better without it.”

  Baby, he called me baby. It made me smile. Was I dreaming or was he helping me into bed?

  “Drink this, it will help with the hangover tomorrow.”

  Water, he had brought me a bottle of water. It was a good idea to get some down. I was still feeling tipsy but was aware of what was happening around me. He was taking care of me. I took the water, it was cold and refreshing. When I was done, he helped me under the covers.

  His lips brushed on my forehead.

  I raised my hands and wrapped them around his neck. I brought him to my mouth. I wanted him to make love to me.

  I didn’t have the strength to prevent him from removing my arms and placing them at my side, tucking them under the covers.

  Of course he did not want to make love to me. I was drunk and barely capable of staying awake.

  I relished in the warmth of his body against mine. My soul, however, was feeling cold and empty from the memory of what happened in his office.

  Was this the beginning of the end of a bond I thought we had?

  Would anything remove that lonely feeling of being discarded?

  Chapter 29

  Richard

  My heart dropped; she wasn’t waiting for me in our bed. Had she taken up residence in one of the guest bedrooms, like she suggested on her first day?

  Noticing the light on in the walk in closet, I entered to turn it off before going in search of Mackenzie.

  I did not have to search far.

  She was asleep, curled up in the armchair in the walk in closet. She was wearing her father’s hunting jacket. She looked peaceful but I knew her neck and legs would cramp if she remained in that position for too long. I had no idea how long she had already been asleep in the chair.

  There would be no apologizing tonight. She would most likely sleep in; there would be no apologizing in
the morning. I had to be at the office for an important call regarding the launch.

  I also had my meeting with Haley.

  This was why I did not do relationships. I had a job to do and I couldn’t be distracted with the complications that came with a relationship.

  I lifted her from the chair and carried her to the bed. She stirred in my arms, burying her face in my chest. I laid her on the bed and whispered in her ear that I was removing the heavy jacket. She wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping in it.

  She was wearing a beautiful white cotton nightgown. It made her look younger, innocent. Virgin white was what sprung into my mind. I handed her the bottle of water I had set on the nightstand. If she did not drink, she would feel the effect dehydration had on the body.

  It was my go to. Drink a bottle of water after a night of drinking to replenish what the alcohol would deplete. She was alert enough to drink it without hesitation.

  I tucked her in and she reached for me. My jaw clenched. It took all my resolve to not take her. I wanted to make love to her, to remove the stain of what happened in my office.

  I never took a woman who was not totally with me, mind and body. Her body was reacting on instinct, as was mine. Her mind was not.

  Why couldn’t she be a sloppy drunk? She looked vulnerable, beautiful and so damn fuckable.

  I was not going to be able to lay beside her until I took a cold shower and released my load. My engorged cock was causing more discomfort the longer I stood there admiring her. Her soft golden hair laid like a halo on her pillow. The nightgown hugged the subtle curves of her body. I released her arms and tucked her in and left her to take my shower.

  It was a long day and I was mentally exhausted. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep.

  Makenzie’s movements woke me. She was heading for the bathroom. I hoped she was not going to be sick.

  I listened before gently tapping on the door. “Mac, are you okay?”