by Abby Angel
She stares at me for a few seconds, a pale crimson color taking over her face, and only then does she remember that she’s working. "Uh, yes. Mr. Stone. Uhm. Ms. Kane is expecting you," she points toward an imposing door at the end of the hall and, acknowledging her words with a nod, I turn on my heels and start making my way toward Daphne Kane’s office.
I could’ve asked the receptionist for her number, but I don’t want to get fucking distracted before a meeting like this. Daphne Kane might be a young beautiful woman, but her reputation precedes her. And if there’s something I’ve learned over the years, it's that you should never underestimate anyone—especially when they wear high heels.
Besides, this is Daphne fucking Kane we’re talking about. It’s not like she’s some mid-level executive pushing papers all day. She’s a fucking killer, the true brains behind the operations of one of the largest companies in the whole world. Hot and smart, now that’s a lethal combination. Although, I gotta admit, as lethal as she might be … that just makes me fucking excited.
I rap my knuckles against the door to her office and, without waiting for an answer, I turn the handle and step inside. Hers is a corner office and, instead of walls, paneled glass windows bridge the gap between the floor and the ceiling, allowing the sun to bathe the entire room. She’s sitting behind a large but sleek desk, her penetrating eyes already appraising me.
Want to hear my first impressions? Yeah, let’s just say that I was wrong when I called her beautiful. No, she’s a fucking goddess. That’s the thing with fucking magazines and photo ops, mostly they turn average girls into top models, but there are a few cases where pictures can’t capture how fucking beautiful a woman is. Daphne is a woman like that; you have to see her to understand.
"Sit down, Mr. Strong," she invites me, pointing at one of the chairs in front of her desk. Her voice is honeyed and sweet, and I can’t help but start to imagine how she’d sound screaming out my name.
"Thank you for taking the time," I start, sitting on the chair she pointed me to and locking my eyes on hers. "So, the reason I --"
"Please," she breathes out, cutting me short and waving her hand at me. "Are you going to insult me by explaining to me the reason why you wanted this meeting? I’m the CEO, it’s my job to know. I knew you’d want this meeting before you even thought of it."
Oh, she’s fierce. I like that.
"I guess we can cut the bullshit then. I’m here to save your company."
"Save my company? We’re not a rescue shelter in need of help, Ares," she says, dropping all formality and using my first name.
"Well, Daphne, I’m not so sure about that. Do you realize the mess you’re in? You might hold off the buyers for a few weeks, but in the end, you’ll have to sell Union Airlines. And if you have to do it, at least sell it to someone who knows what he’s doing."
"Oh, and I’ll take that you’re that person?" Is she mocking me? Because her tone makes it sound like it.
"I’m always that person. I’m your man, Daphne," I tell her, and the grin on her face tells me that she has already started to deconstruct my words.
"My man? What makes you think that? I’m a very demanding woman, you know? I’m not someone you can dazzle with your billions. If you think that the wealth of Strong Capital is supposed to impress me, think again."
"A demanding woman, uh? Well, you’re in luck; I just love demanding women," I start, and bite my lip just in time to stop what were about to become my next words: I love the way they moan. Still, even though I didn’t say it, the sly grin on her face tells me that she knows exactly what I wanted to say.
Leaning forward, her elbows on top of the desk, she looks straight into my eyes. "I’m not just demanding. I demand the best … the very best, always," she says, lowering her voice until it becomes just a whisper. I remain in silence for a couple of seconds, her words echoing inside my skull like hammers banging on anvils.
"Lucky day for you. Because I’m the very best," I whisper right back at her, making a herculean effort to keep my eyes on her face, which is a fucking hard thing to do, her cleavage being inches away from me and all that.
"Is that so? Then what’s your big plan to rescue me, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?"
Okay, good. We’re talking about business. Which is good, since I was thinking of rescuing her over dinner and a bottle of red wine. God, what the fuck am I saying? I need to keep it together. This isn’t a fucking blind date.
"There’s no other way but to incur debt, Daphne. We’ll borrow a few billion dollars, expand routes, and invest in a massive PR campaign. We fight fire with fire; your enemies are trying to bury you with their PR arsenal, I say we fight right back. We leverage all the strength of Union Airlines, and we make it even stronger."
"We? That’s pretty assuming of you. I didn’t notice there was already a we," she says, once more leaning forward. This time, not expecting her to do it, I let my eyes dart to the patch of smooth skin between her breasts, their round curves looking like the perfect fit for my hands.
"Not yet, but there can be," I reply, peeling my eyes off her tits and breathing in deeply through my gritted teeth. Oh, yeah, I wouldn’t mind becoming a we with Daphne Kane—a naked we. The kind where you don’t know where one body starts and the other ends.
"If you work hard at it … maybe," she whispers, running the tip of her tongue between her lips. I imagine how it’d feel to have her crimson lips wrapped around my cock, and that makes my cock twitch and harden up in the space of two fucking heartbeats.
Before I even know what I’m doing, my elbows are propped up on the table and I’m leaning forward just like her, my gaze now a prisoner of her lips. Leaning further in at the same time, our mouths get caught up in a collision trajectory, the air around us crackling with electricity. I start closing my eyes and --
"Ms. Kane?" A voice comes through the intercom; it’s formal tone like a gunshot piercing the moment. "It’s almost time for your 9:15 appointment. He’s already in the building."
"Good. I’m done in here as well," she says, grinning and leaning back as she says it. What a fucking nice way to dismiss me, and now that this was just starting to become fun. "Well, Mr. Strong, you’ve made your case," she continues, smiling as she looks me up and down. "I’ll have to consider all the … implications."
"Please do," I respond, getting up to my feet and buttoning my jacket. With one last glance at her breasts, I force myself to turn on my heels and make for the door. "We’ll be in touch."
"Yes, we will."
In the back of my head, a wicked little voice is already hammering out a violent truth: more than business, this is a fucking hunt. And, oh, how I love to hunt women like Daphne Kane.
Lucas
I arrive at the Union Airlines office at 10 am sharp, taking the elevator straight to the floor where the CEO is. A spindly blonde secretary smiles as she sees me coming, and then she steps apologetically from behind her small reception desk.
"Ms. Kane will see you in a minute. She’s just wrapping up the first meeting of the day," she tells me in a happy tone, and then waves me to one of the plush chairs lining one of the walls. "If you’d be so kind to wait for a few minutes… Would you care for a coffee, Mr. Blake?"
"No, thanks. I’m fine," I tell her with a quick nod, and I’m about to sit down on one of the chairs when the door to the CEO’s office swings open. My blood freezes in my veins as I see a tall shadow reaching for me, its owner staring me down with a look of disdain.
"What the hell are you doin’ here, Lucas?" Ares breathes out, walking toward me with one arched eyebrow. "Did they hire you to fire everyone in this building? That’d be a shame…" he trails off, his eyes shamelessly tracing the contour of the secretary’s slender body. She flushes in a heartbeat, her white cheeks suddenly turning a violent red, and sits behind her desk as if she’s trying to hide from Ares’ piercing gaze.
"I can ask the same of you, Ares. What are you doing here? Trying to make a score with Union Airl
ines? I doubt the banks would loan you enough money to buy them out. There’s only so much debt you can take before you’re hunted down for fraud, you know?"
"Fraud?" he laughs, stuffing both his hands in his pockets and walking past me, his shoulder bumping against my own. "There’s only one fraud in this room, and it goes by the name of Lucas Blake."
My hands ball into fists of their own accord, but I just grit my teeth and let the anger wash over me. Our little stunt on live TV has already cost me more bad press than I care for, and I sure as hell won’t jeopardize a possible deal with Union Airlines just because I want to ram my fist into his face. Although, I’ll admit, I’m kinda tempted by it.
"You won’t get Union Airlines," I merely say, and Ares just offers me a sly grin that I can only translate as we’ll see about that. Yeah, he’s after the same thing I am—Union Airlines itself. It seems that we’re destined to cross paths.
We look into each other’s eyes for a long moment, but then I look away from him. I sigh as I hear his footsteps echo down the hall, and I try to push him out of my mind. I need to be on top of my game right now. Daphne Kane has built a name for herself in the industry, and I have no idea how she’s taking the latest news concerning her company. If I were in her shoes, I’d be fucking pissed right now.
Without a glance back at Ares, I straighten my tie and head into the CEO’s office, ready to start the negotiations. I close the door behind me and, the moment my eyes meet Daphne’s, I feel like I’ve been hit by lightning.
"Mr. Blake, is that right?" Daphne Kane asks me, sitting behind the huge oak desk that dominates her office; I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out of it. I knew that the CEO of Union Airlines was a hot young woman, but I had no idea how much better she would look once I saw her in the flesh. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman this beautiful.
Her hair cascades over her shoulders like golden silk, framing the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. Her crimson lips are like rubies on her skin, and I can’t help but wonder how it’d feel to kiss them.
"That’s me," I finally manage to say, and she places both her hands on the desk and stands up to her feet. I stop breathing as my eyes go down her curves, her tight dress tracing the contour of her hips in such a way that I feel my cock twitching inside my pants. For a fraction of a second I imagine bending her over the desk while I pull down the zipper of her dress, baring the skin on her back while I reach for her breasts and --
Get a hold of yourself, Lucas, I chide myself, and then take one step forward and offer Daphne one hand. She shakes it—more strength in her grip than I expected—and then waves at the chair right in front of her before she sits back down.
"So, your plan, let’s hear it," she starts with a casual wave of her hand. Straight to business; I like that. It seems that there’s more to Daphne than just her looks. Although, if she’s as shrewd as she’s beautiful, buying Union Airlines might prove to be more of a challenge than I anticipated.
"Your little PR situation created a shit storm, as you’re well aware, and your profit margins have been taking quite a beating," I respond, trying to outline a coherent strategy while, at the same time, I try to pull my mind out of the gutter. "What I propose might not be easy, but it’s the long game I’m talking about in here. The way I see it, Union Airlines has to reduce all non-essential activities, go back to core routes and revamp its whole image; only then can it start thinking about building up its profitability again."
"Seems like you have it all figured out, Mr. Blake. Just like my last visitor said you would," she smiles, and I notice a provocateur edge to her words. No wonder, she just dropped Ares right in the middle of our conversation.
"I can assure you, whatever Ares has just told you, you can dismiss it. He only cares about lining his own pockets, and all he sees in Union Airlines is a buy-it-and-flip-it opportunity." Or worse—if I’m having this knee-jerk reaction to Daphne, I can only imagine how he felt when sitting across from her. If I know something about Ares it's that things tend to get messy when there’s a beautiful woman involved.
"Well, we’re too big for that. I figure Mr. Strong hardly has pockets deep enough to buy us out. And the same goes for you. Things might be bleak right now, but it’s not like our demise is so imminent that we’ll allow ourselves to be sold on discount. But, I’m curious, why do you see yourself as a good fit for Union Airlines?"
"I like challenges. And you sure as hell seem to have quite a tough one on your hands."
"My hands can handle quite a lot, Lucas," she says, casually lowering her voice and offering me an easy smile. She locks her hands together in front of her face, and my heart skips a beat as I imagine just exactly what her hands can handle.
"Maybe your hands will be too full with this particular challenge," I shoot straight back at her, leaning back against my chair and running my fingers down the length of my tie.
"No challenge is too big for me," she continues, that smile of hers driving me completely mad. Are we even talking about business anymore?
"I like a woman who talks like that," I reply, placing my elbows on her desk and leaning forward. "But more than just talk, I appreciate a woman who acts."
"Lucky for you, Lucas," my name slips out from between her lips like honey, and I find my cock twitching inside my pants once more, "I’m exactly that kind of woman."
One thing I can say for sure—she’s telling the truth. She’s the kind of woman who walks the talk.
And that means she’s trouble.
Daphne
Do you see now why I enjoy what I do so much? Where else would I have an hour’s time of the two most eligible bachelors in the entire country?
First came Ares, with that fire in his eyes, and now Lucas, a rough beast hiding behind a polite man’s facade. Oh, yeah, make no mistake about it, despite his consummate professionalism and upstanding behavior, I can tell that there’s a beast inside him yearning to be set free. And, right now, I’m rattling its cage.
What can I say? I just can’t help it.
"You’re quite a woman," he says, his words coming out of his mouth almost as a growl. I narrow my eyes slightly, imagining how he must look under his tailored suit, and then reach across the desk to lay my hand on top of his.
"You have no idea," I whisper, and then take my hand back. He looks at me in silence, my touch momentarily making him forget himself.
"Well, in that case, I’d love to find out just exactly how much of a woman you are, Daphne." Finally we’re both on a first name basis. "What do you say we have dinner?" he says and then, remembering that we’re both CEOs of behemoth companies and that thousands of jobs hang in the balance, he clears his throat and adds a few words to his invitation. "So that we can discuss the situation."
"Discuss the situation, of course…" I repeat his words back at him, adding a layer of faux security to the whole thing. By the time we’ve had dinner, a few glasses of wine overruling every ounce of judgment we might have, I figure we’re going to do many things, and not all of them will have anything to do with discussing the situation.
"This Friday? I’ll send my limo around to pick you up," he tells me, and his words are as hard as a slab of rock; he has already decided on the details, and none of them are up for discussion. I don’t mind it; it’s nice to be let off the hook once in awhile, especially when it’s a man like Lucas Blake taking the reigns.
"This Friday, then," I offer him one polite smile and come up to my feet. I offer him my hand and he squeezes it once more, his fingers lingering against the palm of my hand for two long heartbeats. I feel a shiver going up my spine as our eyes lock, and I find myself imagining how it’d feel to look into those eyes while his cock is deep inside my pussy. It feels wickedly good, even if it’s just in my imagination.
"Glad we’ve met." His words are heavy and, judging by the look he has on his face right now, I guess he’s imagining a scenario quite like the one I just dreamed up.
"Likewise." With that,
he finally lets go of my hand and peels his eyes off mine. He turns on his heels and marches out of my office, not bothering to look back at me, although I guess that, judging by the stiff way he’s walking, he’s doing it because he wouldn’t be able to leave my office otherwise.
Ares Stone and Lucas Blake … I don’t even know what to think right now. I was pretty excited when I knew that both of them wanted to meet me; that’s why I even changed my schedule so that I could meet them first thing in the morning, but I wasn’t expecting both meetings to be so … intense. If only all men were like these two!
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes for a minute and push all indecent thoughts to the back of my mind; I have work to do right now.
"Who’s next, Karen?" I ask my secretary, pushing one of the buttons on my intercom.
"It’s a Mr. Seymour Lee from the, ah, United States Federal Aviation Administration," she says in one single breath, and I just tell her to send him in with a sigh. It’s never good when the FAA wants to hold a meeting, especially after a PR screw up has just taken place. They’re always out for blood, and I guess this time the smell of it was too strong for them to ignore.
Two minutes later a gangly figure clutching an oversized briefcase steps inside my office. Seymour Lee is in his mid-forties and, judging by the comb over with which he tries to hide his growing baldness, I guess the years haven’t been too kind to him. There are a few laugh-lines around his thin lips, but I don’t trust these; from an awkward man like him, these lines are probably a representation of his thinly veiled hypocrisy instead of any true joy.
"Ms. Kane!" he chirps happily, offering me his hand. I give him a firm shake, his long spidery fingers brushing against the inside of my wrist. "Glad you could meet me on such short notice. Quite glad indeed!"
