by Rye Hart
I felt his fingers dig into my hips and the tip of his erection pressing into my throbbing pussy. He slid inside me, causing me to flinch. I could feel myself stretching to accommodate him. Then, he slowly slid in another inch, then an another, then another. Soon, his entire cock was inside me, filling me up so much that I felt like I might burst.
Then he slid fully out of me until the head rested at my opening, then thrust himself in fully again, making me gasp at the feeling.
The pain was intense for a moment, then, slowly, with each stroke, the pleasure built until I was screaming his name and pressing myself against him. I could hear our skin slapping together and I could smell the aroma of our sex in the air.
“I’m going to come,” he said, pressing his hands into my hips as he jackhammered in and out of me. My pussy tightened around his shaft as he came. I could feel the hot cum warming my body as he emptied himself inside me.
“Oh God,” I moaned as every muscle in my body tightened and my juices spewed from within my cunt to mix with his.
I looked over my shoulder at Tyler. He smiled and said, “COME ON, MAGGIE, I GOTTA PEE!”
What the hell?
Why did Tyler sound like my younger brother Tommy?
My eyes fluttered open.
I was sitting in a tub of cold water and daylight was breaking through the bathroom window.
My fingers were buried up to the knuckles inside of me.
“Maggie!” My brother was beating on the bathroom door.
I sighed as I pulled myself out of the tub.
Welcome to Maggie’s world.
CHAPTER SIX: TYLER
I had Charlie on speaker phone as I drove the Hummer from the little airstrip where we landed the corporate jet outside of Mountain View to the cabin on the side of the mountain. Charlie had remained behind in Denver to work out the details of the latest development project we had in the works. There was no rush for me to get back to Mountain View, other than I wanted to see Maggie Dean again.
Silly, I know, but I had not been able to get the look of shock on her pretty face when I flashed my cock at her out of my mind. Hell, I didn’t flash it. I practically flung it out there and yelled, “Come and get it!”
I would never admit it, especially to Charlie, but a part of me felt bad for what I’d done to Maggie. It was pretty fucked up after all. I just met the girl and offered to pay her for opening up those fuck-ably long legs for me.
I’d gotten so used to being the “billionaire mountain man” they wrote about in Playboy and Esquire that sometimes, common decency just flew out the window. I was the swinging dick party boy who ordered up women like fast food from a menu.
I’ll take a blonde, a brunette, and two redheads to go, please. And keep them coming.
It was almost like I didn’t know how to act around a real girl anymore.
Maggie was real. She was different. She was sweet. She had self-respect. I couldn’t get her out of my mind.
The women I usually hung out with dropped their panties at the sight of me, but Maggie brought me back down to earth. As much as she needed the job, she didn’t hesitate to tell me to screw off. I had to make her mine.
I guided the Hummer along the mountain road as I listened to Charlie complain about the bribes he was having to dole out to building inspectors and various government officials to get the deal done. I told him I didn’t need to hear those kinds of details and he quickly changed the subject.
I sometimes had to turn a blind eye for the good of the company. If some lawyer down the road asked me about any of our shady dealings in Mountain View I wanted to be able to pass a lie detector and say, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
That’s why I had Charlie.
Charlie was my dirty deal maker.
He was paid millions of dollars to get the job done, no matter what it took or whose palm had to be greased or who got hurt in the process.
My hands were clean and my conscience was clear. Sort of.
I had no problem sleeping at night.
I counted hundred dollar bills to fall asleep like normal people counted sheep. I just wanted to win, period. End of story.
I’d been accused by competitors of using shady business practices in building my empire, but they’d never been able to prove a fucking thing.
Building an empire is like building a house: it’s all about the layers of insulation. And I was about as insulated as the CEO of a billion-dollar conglomerate could get.
Honestly, there’s no such thing as ‘a little shady’ in my world.
That’s like being ‘a little pregnant’ or ‘a little dead’.
It’s all shady. And it’s all business.
Being a nice guy killed my dad and I’d be damned if it would do the same to me.
Tyler Jenner always came out on top. No exceptions, no mercy.
As I turned onto the narrow road leading up to my cabin I started thinking about my dad, which I often did when I was alone.
I wondered what he would think of his little boy now, all grown up and on top of the world.
He would have been proud of where I was on the ladder of life, but maybe not so proud of the tactics I had used to get there.
Jim Jenner had started Jenner Camping Supply in a little hole-in-the-wall shop in Denver when I was just a kid. He had loved to camp and spend time outdoors, and he’d always wanted his own business. Even though he knew nothing about running a retail shop, that hadn’t stopped him from dumping his life savings into a venture that would eventually kill him.
Jenner’s sold camping equipment, rifles, hunting bows, knives, thermal underwear, and just about anything else you’d need to survive in the woods.
The problem was, dad didn’t have what it took to survive in business.
He was too fucking nice.
He wasn’t cutthroat enough.
He let people and vendors take advantage of him.
He gave people credit and discounts.
He let them take merchandise without paying.
He lent money to customers.
He let people slide.
And they all sucked off him like leeches until he went broke and couldn’t keep the shop open anymore and his loyal friends had abandoned him in droves.
At just forty-three years old, he’d had a massive heart attack a week after he closed the store. He’d died with an empty bank account and a broken heart.
And what did I learn from my dad’s experience?
That people are parasitic assholes who will suck you dry and leave you to die if you let them.
In business, loyalty always comes at a price.
You must do unto others before they do unto you.
That’s the mentality I had when I used my dad’s life insurance money to reopen his shop as Jenner Outdoors. I sold the same basic camping supplies my dad did, but I added a ton of specialized equipment and gadgets like range finders, GPS units, high powered scopes, and other “big boy toys”.
It was the mentality I used to build Jenner Outdoors from a little store on a Denver side street into a massive megastore downtown, into a nationwide chain of stores, into the global conglomerate that it is today.
That’s still my mentality.
I’ll get mine, you get yours.
And if I want yours, then by God I’m going to get it too.
* * *
The cabin finally came into view and Charlie was still rambling on. I cut him off. “Charlie, I’m pulling up to the cabin. I don’t need to know all the details of the project. Just get it done and fax over whatever I need to sign.”
“Fine, okay,” Charlie said. I could hear him sigh through the speakers. “Hey, don’t forget, your new chef should be there today. Try to keep your clothes on at least for a few hours.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry,” I said. I smiled when I saw Maggie’s battered Honda parked in the drive. I pulled up next to it and shoved the gear into park. I asked, “So, when are you coming back to Mou
ntain View?”
“We have a meeting scheduled with the mayor and town council on Wednesday. I’ll fly in then. Do you want to attend that meeting?”
I shook my head as if he could see me. I said, “Nope. Just do what you have to do and let’s get this thing moving.”
“You got it,” Charlie said. “And Tyler?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t fuck this up again.”
CHAPTER SEVEN: MAGGIE
I spent most of the morning buying groceries to stock Tyler’s kitchen. Mr. Prescott had set up a charge account at the FoodMart and emailed me the list of Tyler’s favorite foods. It was up to me to figure out the recipes and list the ingredients I’d need, but that wasn’t too difficult because there was nothing fancy on the list.
You don’t need a recipe to grill a steak.
Tyler had called himself a basic carnivore and the list proved it.
I sat in the car outside of the FoodMart and went down the piece of paper in my hand.
Eggs, bacon, biscuits, gravy, hash brown potatoes, porterhouse steak, filet mignon, ribeye, pork, hamburger, meatloaf, baked potatoes, various vegetables, any kind of homemade dessert (nothing frozen). Coffee, iced tea, milk, orange juice, bottled water, Coors in the bottle.
It was not unlike the list I made every week, only this time I didn’t have to bargain shop or clip coupons, or skip buying something that wasn’t on sale. Money was no object to Tyler and I doubted he would have given a crap about getting fifty-cents off of dishwashing liquid.
When I left the store, my old Honda was packed to the gills. She struggled to get up the mountain road to the cabin. There were a few times I leaned into the steering wheel and urged her on, “Come on, old girl, you can do it! Get up that hill!”
Mr. Prescott had said that there would be a key to the back door waiting for me when I arrived. I found it under the mat and let myself inside. I paused in the kitchen for a moment as images of Tyler’s naked body flashed through my mind. I shook my head to drive the images away, then spent the next hour unloading the car and stocking the cupboards and fridge.
* * *
I was sitting at the kitchen island making out the menu for the week when I heard the front door open and someone stomping snow off their feet. Tyler’s deep voice called out as he walked through the house to the kitchen.
“Honey, I’m home!”
My nerves immediately started to hum at the sound of his voice and the hand holding the pen started to shake. My breathing came in short gusts and my mouth was suddenly dry. I resisted the urge to dig the Chap Stick out of my purse. Licking my lips would have to do and I did it quickly, before he came in.
I swallowed the lump that had lodged in my throat and forced myself to smile.
“Good morning, Miss Dean,” he said, coming into the kitchen with a big smile on his face and a bouquet of red roses in his right hand. He bowed and held the roses out to me. “For you, with my sincerest apologies.”
“Really? Oh my, I mean, that’s really not necessary.” I held the roses to my nose and inhaled their aroma. “They’re beautiful. Thank you. Where on earth did you find roses in Mountain View this time of year?”
“I brought them with me from Denver,” he said with a proud smile that made his moustache twitch. He was wearing tight jeans stuffed into a pair of hiking boots and a thick corduroy jacket with a fur collar. He took off the jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. Underneath, he was wearing a long john shirt that fit his muscled frame like a glove.
“Is there coffee?” he asked, rubbing his hands together to warm them.
“There is,” I said. “I’m afraid I couldn’t figure out your fancy coffee machine, so I used the Mr. Coffee maker I found under the sink.
“Fantastic,” he said, pulling down a mug and filling it to the brim. “I hate that damn machine.” He picked up the mug and slid onto a stool across the bar from me. His handsome face turned serious.
“I want to apologize for the other day. It was a silly thing to do.”
“It’s fine,” I said with a smile. I felt my nerves easing a bit, though I was still not ready to drop my guard around him. “I have teenage brothers, I know what idiots boys can be.”
He smiled and I felt a warmth cover over me, like a blanket wrapping around my shoulders.
“Boys never stop being idiots,” he said. “Even when they’re adults.”
“I have often found that to be true,” I said with a sly smile. I set the roses on the bar and picked up the pen. “I’m just making out the menu for the week. Will you be here for every meal?”
“I’m not sure at this point,” he said. “Charlie is coming in on Wednesday, so I thought I would spend a couple of days getting to know the town and maybe do some hiking. Can we be flexible?”
“Sure,” I said. “If you can just give me a little heads up, I can have something prepared for you in no time.”
“I am a big fan of flexibility,” he said. Even with his clothes on, Tyler was the sexiest man I’d ever seen. His eyes twinkled when he smiled and the corners of his lips disappeared behind the moustache. I felt myself getting warm from the inside out.
He sipped the coffee for a moment and watched me work on the menu. I looked up to catch him looking at me.
“So, um, do you want me to fix something for lunch?” I asked.
“Actually, I was hoping you might give me a tour of the town this morning,” he said, licking coffee from his lips. “I haven’t really spent a lot of time here, so maybe you can show me around.”
It was an odd request, and I didn’t know what to make of it.
“There’s not much to see,” I said. “A few shops and restaurants. Tourist season doesn’t start for another month, so it’s kind of quiet.”
“I like quiet,” he said.
I blinked at him. He was smiling at me again. Damn, that smile.
“Um….okay, I mean, did you want to go now?”
“I do,” he said. He picked up the mug and drained it, then set it in the sink. He extended a hand toward the door and smiled. “After you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT: TYLER
I held Maggie’s hand as she climbed into the Hummer. She settled into the passenger seat and buckled up while I climbed in behind the wheel.
“Oh my gosh, it’s so big!” she gushed, looking around the inside of the Hummer.
I resisted the urge to say something incredibly inappropriate.
She leaned back and ran her hands along the armrests. “This seat is like sitting in a recliner!”
I grinned at her. “Have you never been in a Hummer before?”
“I’d never even seen a Hummer before I met you,” she said. She was like a kid, the way she fiddled with the seat warmer and the climate control. In seconds, it was toasty inside the car. I felt myself getting warm, but it wasn’t from the hot hair blasting from the dash.
“My butt’s getting really hot,” she said, adjusting the temperature dial on the console. She glanced at me, aware of the innuendo. “I mean…”
“You mean your butt’s getting hot,” I said with a smile. “Look, Maggie, I’m not going to take every comment you make and turn it into something dirty. Relax.”
She gave me a timid look, then a smile broke across her lush lips. “Okay, sorry, I’m just still…”
“Nervous? Wary? Unsure that I’m not some kind of billionaire serial rapist?”
“What? No!”
“Maybe you’re just embarrassed that you’ve seen my junk and I haven’t seen yours.” I gave her my most innocent smile. “Just relax and let’s enjoy the day. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a day off work. I don’t want to spend it walking on eggshells.”
“Agreed,” she said with a smile that warmed the air even more. “Let’s enjoy the day.”
And that’s exactly what we did.
We parked the Hummer on Main Street and Maggie gave me a walking tour of the town. She led me through the various shops along Main Street, introduced me
to the owners and the customers. Everyone seemed to know and love Maggie.
We browsed antique shops, had coffee at a little place called Best Beans, and had lunch at the steakhouse where she worked. The old couple that owned the place greeted her like family, then looked at me as if I was there to rob the place.
Maggie introduced us and the old man shook my hand. The old woman eyed me for a moment after I greeted her.
“They’re just a little wary of strangers,” Maggie said as she led me to a table and sat down across from me. “They’ll warm up to you, don’t worry.”
I gave her a smile and gave the place a casual look. The building was old, the décor was outdated. There were water stains on the ceiling and worn spots in the carpet. There was a heavy smell of grease in the air. It was the stereotypical touristy mom-and-pop operation, but Maggie seemed proud of the place, and eager for me to share her enthusiasm.
I put on a smile and let her order for us from the lunch menu. We both had the cheeseburger and fries. Maggie bragged on the burger as she ordered it, and swore it was the best burger this side of Denver. I resisted the urge to ask if she’d ever even had a Denver burger.
Smile Tyler. Don’t be a douche.
It was a decent burger, but nothing special.
I choked it down and focused more on the conversation than the food.
I found myself enjoying her company immensely. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a leisurely lunch with a pretty girl who wasn’t trying to get her hooks into my wallet.
Maggie Dean was naturally beautiful, sweet, down-to-earth, unassuming, and had an air that made people gravitate to her. Everywhere we went a hug awaited her and people lit up when she came into the room.
I felt good just being around her. It was a feeling I wasn’t familiar with.
Then, the little voice in my head reminded me that the goal was to get into her pants; to get her naked in my bed, to get her to succumb to my demands and desires.
I’d never been refused by any woman, and I didn’t plan to start now.
