by Abby Angel
What? Just keeping my options open, ‘hun.
Ares
"Can I get you another?" the perky blonde asks me, her big eyes gleaming with curiosity. The I wonder how big his cock is kind of curiosity. Oh, don’t be mean and think that she’s a slut; women love to wonder about my cock all the time. And I don’t mind, not at all. In fact, I’m pretty much used to it, and if I’m being honest, I love their earnest curiosity. Nothing beats the look of awe in a woman’s face when she sees my twelve inches hard and ready for some love.
"Yeah, sure," I reply casually, pushing my empty glass of whisky across the counter. It’s only my second, but I’m already feeling a slight buzz taking over. Tapping my fingertips on the counter, I look across the room and sigh. Masa is one of the most exclusive restaurants in New York and, as such, the place is completely packed, except for a small table at the end of the dimly lit room. A folded card over the tablecloth proclaims in bold letters that the table is reserved, but its occupants are nowhere to be seen. They were supposed to be here almost half an hour ago, but it looks like they might not be coming after all.
Yeah, I’m talking about Daphne and Lucas. How the fuck do I know that? I can hear you wondering about that. Let’s just say I have my ways. What, not happy with my answer? Alright, fuck it; yeah, I’m spying on Lucas. I’m not a fucking saint and I never pretended to be one. Besides, this is probably one of the major business deals in decades, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure I emerge triumphant from this, just like a true Julius fucking Caesar of the boardroom.
"There you go, sir," the petite blonde bartender says, sliding a glass of Macallan across the counter. She brushes her fingers against mine as I pick up the glass, and I smile as I watch her run her tongue between her lips.
"Thank you," I say, and she flushes in a heartbeat. She turns around to service other customers, and I follow her with my eyes, watching her perfect ass move as she walks toward the other end of the counter. She’s a hot one, I’ll give her that, and if I wasn’t this fucking preoccupied with Lucas and Daphne’s absence I’d be all over her.
Yeah, I’m fucking preoccupied, and that’s exactly why I’m here. I know Lucas and, despite our differences in the way we approach business, I’d be a fool to underestimate him. He might be a penny pincher, but he’s the fucking best penny pincher I’ve ever known. Besides, despite his moralist facade, I know exactly the kind of effect a woman like Daphne has on him. Like I said, I know the kind of man Lucas is.
Thing is, I know that part of the reason I’m fucking worried about the two of them not being here has nothing to do with business. I just don’t feel comfortable with these two going on a fucking date of sorts… As if that wasn’t bad enough, it seems that now they’ve decided to skip dinner. Like, what the fuck are they doing? I got word that Lucas picked her up in one of his limos, so what’s taking them so fucking long? Maybe they changed venues? No … that doesn’t make any fucking sense. It’s almost impossible to get a table at Masa, and I doubt that they’d decide to go somewhere else on a whim.
To make matters worse, there’s a voice inside of me that tells me the real reason they’re not coming. That’s right; they’re fucking right now, no need to sugarcoat it. I can already imagine Daphne moaning as Lucas presses his naked body against her, her pussy wet and eager to have him… I can see them in my mind’s eye, kissing as their hands wander over their bodies, Lucas’ cock buried deep inside of her pussy. I can’t believe that he beat me to the punch.
I exhale sharply and, at the same time, my cock twitches hard inside my pants. Gritting my teeth, I feel my cock hardening as images of Lucas and Daphne keep on dancing behind my eyes, lustful and wild. And my cock keeps on growing.
Jesus fuck, what’s going on with me?
I take a sip of my whisky, letting it burn its way down my throat, and then decide to just down the whole thing at once. I rest the glass against the counter and, before I even have the time to blink, that blonde is there again, taking the empty glass from my hand. With an inviting smile, she refills it, and then pushes it toward me.
"On the house," she says, small dimples showing on her cheeks as she smiles.
"Thanks," I reply, raising the glass and making a faux toast toward her. God bless her; if there’s something I need right now, it’s a fucking glass of whisky and a distraction. "What’s your name?"
"Katherine." She looks back over her shoulder, perhaps wondering if her shift manager is nearby, and then leans against the counter. She puts her forearms together as she leans in, and I notice that she has unbuttoned the first button on her shirt. And let me tell you, I like what I’m fucking seeing here.
"Katherine, I like that name." I let my eyes fall to the round swell of her breasts, and I don’t even try to hide it. She wants me to look, so I’m pretty fucking happy to oblige. That’s me: a perfect gentleman.
"You’re … Ares Strong. Aren’t you?" she whispers, biting down on her lower lip as her words acquire a conspiratorial tone.
"In the flesh," I whisper, imitating her tone and smiling. She flushes even more at my words, and I can see her already imagining what I’m hiding under my clothes. "Nice to meet you," I offer her my hand and she grabs it, her delicate fingers brushing against the palm of my hand. Her face becomes tomato red as she shakes my hand, and I let my fingers linger on hers for a second more than necessary.
"I… I usually don’t do this," she starts, looking from one side to the other as if she was about to confess to a crime. "But my shift will be over in fifteen minutes…" She lets her words hang in the air between us, her proposal a fucking clear one.
I lean back in my seat, smiling as I let my eyes trace her silhouette. Nice perky tits, a round firm ass, and lips that look like they were made to scream out my name… Yeah, we could have some fun. Except we can’t.
Contrary to any other day, I’m not feeling a fucking thing right now. Sure, my brain knows that she’s a hot woman and that she’s more than ready to step into my limo and let me fuck her brains out, but my cock hasn’t caught up with that. I could be looking at a brick wall, for all I know.
"Thanks, but I… I actually have to leave soon," I find myself saying, grabbing my wallet and slapping a few bills down on the counter. Jesus fucking Christ, am I actually doing this? Feeling pretty shitty, I grab a few more bills and place them on top of the others. "Just a tip. Have a good night."
Getting up from my seat, I bolt out of the restaurant as if my pants were on fucking fire. Lucas and Daphne aren’t coming and, hot bartender or not, I have no reason to remain there.
But, seriously… I can’t believe I’ve blown a hot woman off. What the fuck is going on with me?
Fuck, this whole situation is really messing me up.
Lucas
"I have an important call to take," I tell Karen, my secretary, through the intercom, both my eyes focused on my laptop’s screen.
"Do I cancel all meetings?" she asks me, and my reply comes fast.
"Yeah, all meetings. I’m not to be disturbed right now," I continue, not taking my eyes off of the screen.
"Sure thing," she chirps happily without bothering to ask me about what is so important that I have to clear my schedule all of a sudden. She has been my secretary for five years now, and she knows better than to start asking questions. I place my elbows on my desk and stare intently at my laptop, a large window taking over the whole screen.
On it, there’s a video playing live: someone is staring out the window of a car as it rolls into a private area of JFK airport. There’s a limo waiting next to a hangar, a woman in a black skirt and button-up blouse waiting next to it.
"Here we go," I whisper to myself, holding my breath as Daphne’s body takes over the screen.
Yeah, I know, I shouldn’t be doing this. But we’re talking about what might turn out to be the largest acquisition of a company ever, and I know that Ares is employing every dirty trick in the book. I have no proof of it (yet, at least), but I’m certain th
at he’s spying on me. So, the only logical thing is for me to fight back; I hired a few ex-CIA operatives working in the private sector and set up my own surveillance team.
The moment they got to work I knew I was getting my money’s worth. It took them less than 24 hours to get ahold of Ares’ schedule and, once I found out that he was meeting Daphne at one of Union Airlines’s hangars, supposedly to check on the planes, I gave them the go ahead to start using bugs.
It’s thanks to these guys that I’m watching everything unfold right now: they’ve managed to plant a bug in the lapel of Ares’ jacket. It’s a small cam, and right now it’s feeding everything that’s happening straight into my laptop. The wonders of technology, huh? Corporate espionage has never been this easy.
Maybe you think that I’m an asshole for stooping this low, but let me assure you, this is nothing when it comes to the upper echelons of the business world. Governments have been toppled for much less than one trillion dollars.
"You’re late," I hear Daphne say as Ares steps out of his car and, even though I can’t see his face, I can already imagine the shit-eating grin he has on his lips.
"Fashionably late," he corrects her, shaking her hand and then waving at the Boeing 777 parked inside the cavernous hangar. "Is this it?"
"This is it. One of our Boeings," she explains, leading the way inside the hangar. He trails behind her a few steps, and I’m almost sure that he’s looking at her ass flex as she walks. Well, it’s not like I can blame him; I’m doing the same right now. There’s something about Daphne that just crushes political correctness and makes blood boil.
"It’s big," Ares comments, still walking behind her. "Do you like big things, Daphne?"
Motherfucker, I can’t believe he’s talking to here like this. But what could I possibly be expecting? This is Ares Strong I’m talking about; it’s not like he’s known for his subtlety. But, still, what the hell is he thinking? Coming on so strong when so much hangs in the balance? Oh, I hope this blows right in his face, I really do.
"I like big money ... among other things," is Daphne’s quick response, and then she starts walking up the stairs that lead to the Boeing’s entrance, the one next to the cockpit.
"Do you like skipping out on dinner as well?" he asks her, and I feel my eyes widening in surprise. I knew it; he's been spying on me all along. See what I told you? I’m just fighting back against this asshole.
The moment Ares steps foot inside the Boeing, Daphne turns on her heels to face him and gives him a cold-blooded stare.
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Her voice is flat and emotionless, but I can feel a hint of anger in it. Daphne isn’t he kind of woman that likes being controlled.
"Just asking. I was at Masa the other day, and the waiter was pretty astonished that a big name apparently decided not to show up after pushing for a same day reservation. Turns out he was talking about Lucas and you."
"Have you been spying on me?" she throws at him, and now she’s not even trying to hide the anger dripping from her words.
"Spying on you? Ah, please. I keep tabs on Lucas; he’s my competitor. Don’t blame me if you decided to go on a little date with him." He’s trying to deflect her, but the look on Daphne’s face tells me that she won’t be placated this easily. She closes the distance between him and taps two fingers against his chest, making the cam on his lapel shake slightly.
"You tried to spy on us," she lowers her voice, a threat hiding behind her words. "What do you think I am? A plaything that you own?"
"Daphne, I --"
"Don’t give me your bullshit excuses, Ares. You think you can own the whole world, but let me tell you this: your cocky attitude isn’t impressing me that much." There are a few seconds of silence, and I can almost hear the gears turning inside Ares’ mind.
"Oh, and did Lucas impress you? Because he sure as hell has nothing on me, you know?" Here we go; he simply couldn’t resist to throw a punch at me. Even when we’re apart, it seems that I’m on his mind all the time.
"Seems to me you’re all talk, Ares. No substance," she tells him, taking her fingers off of his chest and grinning. Is she… teasing him? What the fuck?
"All talk? Oh, you have no idea what you’re saying," he chuckles, taking one step toward her. She looks up into his eyes and, even though there’s a defiant edge to them, I see something else there… Desire?
"Yeah? Why don’t you prove me wrong then?" With that, she runs her fingers up his jacket, pulling him close into her. I almost turn away from the screen; I can’t believe this is happening. Jesus.
"Oh, I’ll prove you wrong alright," he whispers, his voice heavy, and I can almost see what’s going to happen next. Except, of course, I can’t: Daphne’s fingers run up Ares jacket and over his lapel, and I see the image shaking as she brushes them against the spy-cam. The image trembles some more, and all I see is dark as the cam falls onto the floor. I hear Ares’ voice saying something and then, I can’t tell if by accident or on purpose, one of Daphne’s high heels fills the whole screen and she smashes the camera under her foot.
Fuck!
Daphne
I was expecting him to come with guns blazing, all of his cockiness on display, and I wasn’t wrong. Ares showed up late (of course) and he didn’t waste any time; he started hitting on me right from the start, his smart devilish eyes devouring my body. Maybe I’m to blame there; I picked a skirt and blouse combination that I knew would leave him salivating.
What I wasn’t expecting was for him to be so straightforward… He straight up confessed he spied on Lucas and I. I should be mad (and, don’t get me wrong, I really am mad) but, more than that, I’m curious. I can’t help but wonder how he felt when Lucas and I didn’t show up for dinner. Was he jealous? Oh, I bet he was ... I bet he worried about all the dirty things I could be doing with Lucas.
Ah, men, they’re so predictable, aren’t they? They say that women are the jealous ones, but that’s not exactly the truth; given the chance, men are much more possessive than any woman can be. It’s in their nature.
"Prove me wrong, then," I defy him. Placing both my hands on his chest, my fingers hooked on his shirt, I push him back against the door that leads to the cockpit. I press my breasts against his chest, my eyes never leaving his, and I feel his cock hardening against my leg in a fraction of a second. I feel a shiver going up my spine as I realize that this might be my lucky day; his hard cock seems to be as big as Lucas’.
"You’ve been dying for this, haven’t you?" I whisper, one of the hands I have on his chest sliding all the way down. My fingers go over his belt, and then I flatten my hand against his crotch, pressing hard against the bulging shape of his cock just to feel if he’s as thick as he’s long. "Mm, seems like it."
"You’re one of a kind, aren’t you?" he asks me, tangling his fingers in my hair and yanking on it, forcing me to look straight into his eyes. I gasp as he does it, but my devilish grin never leaves my lips. His eyes fall to my lips then, and he surrenders to the urge to taste me.
"Glad you figured that out…" I say as he leans into me, closing my eyes as he brushes his lips against mine. He kisses me softly at first, but I take charge quickly; parting his lips with my tongue, I slide it inside his mouth and use it to dance around his own. Our kiss grows frenzied, and before I know it, he has both his hands on my ass, his fingers digging deep into the soft flesh of my ass cheeks.
"You’re right," he suddenly says, his cock so hard that it’s stretching the fabric of his pants to the limit, "I’ve been dying for this." With that, he grabs both my wrists and turns on his heels fast, changing positions with me and pinning me against the door. My back hits the door with a dull thump, and he leans into me and kisses my lips once more, a kind of coiled intensity to the way he does it.
At the same time, he places one hand right above my knee and, moving it slowly, slides it under the hemline of my skirt. His fingers trail over my smooth skin, and he only stops when he has the palm of his hand tight
ly pressed against the wetness between my thighs.
"Tell me," he starts, leaning in so that his lips are brushing against my right ear, "were you this wet with Lucas?" I don’t even know why in the world he’s asking me this, but I don’t hesitate; if he wants to talk about Lucas while his hand is on my pussy, I can do that.
My hand darts to his crotch again, and this time I don’t flatten my hand against his cock; instead, I curl my fingers around it, squeezing it harshly. "Why? Does talking of Lucas get you hard?" I whisper right back at him, my words filled with mischievousness. His eyes widen as I say it, and I feel his cock throb suddenly against my fingers. Oh, did I hit a nerve just now? Touché.
"You think you’re pretty smart, don’t you, Daphne…? Maybe I’ll have to shut you up."
"Oh, and how do you think you’re going to do that?" I ask him, tightening my grip on his cock so much that he struggles against the urge to groan.
"That’s … an easy question to answer." He takes one hand back to my hair and, yanking, forces me to go down. I resist at first, but then lower myself until my knees are touching the floor. I look up at him, narrowing my eyes as a flicker of lust dances there, and his cock throbs in response.
"I see," I simply whisper, placing both my hands on his knees and running them up his legs. I stop right over his belt, hooking my fingers on his shirt and un-tucking it. My fingers move under his shirt and wander to his abs, and I trace their contour as I hold my breath; what is it with these billionaires? How do they find the time to sculpt their bodies into such perfection? I mean, Ares doesn’t even have a six-pack; he has an eight-pack! Ahem, it’s not like I’m complaining, alright? I’m the real winner here.
Biting on my lower lip, I unbuckle his belt slowly and then push it out from its loop. I let it slip from my fingers and hit the floor right between my knees, and then I undo the top button on his pants and push his zipper down. His cock pushes back against his boxer briefs, eager to be released, and I feel my eyes widening as I realize just how big Ares is.
