by Nic Saint
“God, that feels good,” she moaned.
And it did. She’d never had ‘silly-romance-movie-sex’ like this before, going from first base to third in the space of all of ten seconds. She wasn’t the kind of girl who flitted from guy to guy but Will’s touch electrified her, making her incapable of sane thought. All she knew was that she wanted him—and she wanted him now.
He pummeled her splayed pussy lips, her hands pushing against the leather, and her cheek sizzling hot against the coolness she felt a weakness inside her belly that signaled the onset of the biggest orgasm she’d ever experienced. And then suddenly she was crested over and plunged down and she cried out with the pleasure and the ecstasy of it all, and in that same moment, he came too, his balls exploding with a ferocity he hadn’t thought himself capable of. And when he shot his load straight into her milking cunt, he cursed himself for not being more careful, and then cursed himself for caring, and then took a firmer grip on her hips and pushed himself in all the way to the hilt and shot another load into her belly, his release continuing in undulating waves of joy.
He collapsed on top of her, and they lay panting, a thin film of sweat the only thing separating them, and then she remembered what her mother had always told her about having sex with strangers, and she closed her eyes, wondering what her mother would say about having unprotected sex with her boss instead.
With a deep sigh, she allowed her arms to spread out in front of her, and when he finally released her, she turned on her back and reached a tentative hand between her legs, touching it to her pussy. Dang, she was wet. And not merely with her own juices, either. She eyed the man who’d made his contribution to the pregnancy fund and felt her heartbeat quicken at the dark stare he directed at her, his cock now at half-mast but still majestic, glistening with their mingled juices.
She felt an odd sense of disconnect from this man all of a sudden, and realized he truly was a complete stranger to her. But then why had she felt this sense of connection? This utter and complete feeling of rightness? It was right, she knew. Exactly right, what they’d done. It was what was necessary, and she knew he’d felt it too.
He raked a hand through his mane, and then kneeled beside her and placed a hand on her cheek. “I—I’m sorry, Kelley,” he murmured. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Probably the same thing that came over me,” she returned, and he smiled.
She looked into his eyes and felt a kinship that stretched beyond mere sex. A connection that extended beyond the physical. And she found that she actually liked this man. He was a lot kinder and more decent than she’d given him credit for at first. So he was rich, but apparently not the monster she’d taken him for.
Then he gestured at her pussy. “If you want, I can have that taken care of for you.”
She blinked, the words not registering at first. Then they hit her like a punch to the gut. He meant the morning-after pill, of course. And she wondered why suddenly she felt so deflated and upset. It was only natural for him to want to rectify his ‘mistake’. In fact, it was most considerate. Most men would leave her to deal with the consequences of their rash act herself. And she knew she was being silly. Extremely silly, so she nodded quickly. “Thanks, but I’ll take care of it myself.”
When his smile of gratitude spread, she cursed herself for feeling the dark cloud of gloom suddenly settle over her, taking away the remnants of the afterglow she’d been basking in. “Thanks,” he curtly acknowledged, then quickly rose to his feet and strode to his desk to get dressed.
She lay there for a moment longer, staring up at the ceiling and wondering where to go from here. Would this be something he expected from her at regular intervals now that she’d be working for him? Or was this strictly a one-time deal? Maybe this is what he did with every girl on her first day, she suddenly thought, and felt the arms of the cloud of doom hold her ever more firmly in their grip.
Yeah, she figured as she sat up, squeezing her legs to prevent his cum from dripping to the nicely carpeted floor and making stains that would be a bitch to wash out. This is what he probably did to all the girls. Fuck em, then let em work to pay off their debts.
She’d been wrong she now saw as she watched him get dressed, his back turned to her. He was a rich, unscrupulous asshole after all, and she’d just allowed him to get into her panties like some silly teenager on her first date with some ridiculously hot senior.
And suddenly she hated him with all the power of her being, and vowed a sacred oath to get back at the bastard one way or another for taking advantage of a moment of weakness.
Then, as he turned to her and offered her her jeans and shirt, he directed a warm smile that took her breath away and made her knees go weak again, and she knew she couldn’t hate him even if she wanted to. And she wanted to a whole damn lot.
Chapter 8
Please, please, please, be there, Kelley thought. She’d escaped Thornton Tower for a quick dart around the corner, ostensibly to pick up a bite to eat, but in actual fact she was now on her way to meet a friend. She didn’t know what kind of predicament she was in, and only Turtu could help her figure it out.
She walked past the Kookie Deli; her eyes scanning the street, and then finally found what she was looking for. A newspaper kiosk had been set up on the corner, and next to it a small bench had been placed. A tall, dark-faced man with an impossibly wide afro and slick goatee lounged on the bench, and she felt the gloom that had held her in its grip all morning started to dissipate at the sight of him.
She quickly took a seat right next to her friend and said in a low voice, “Don’t look now, but that man is following you.”
Turtu, playing along, whispered, “What man? The one with the black fedora wearing a trench coat? I knew he was trouble the moment I laid eyes on him.” He then guffawed and wrapped her in a tight embrace. “Hey, there, girl. What have you been up to?”
She sighed, glad to be with a friend. The morning had been long and dreadful. After her sexy tryst with mister boss man on his desk, he’d handed her off to his secretary, a nice woman listening to the name Sonia Grey, who’d dumped a pile of folders in her arms and had then shown her to a workstation that was to be her home from now on. After that, she’d been mostly idle, trying to fill her time playing solitaire and wondering when she was actually going to be assigned a real task to perform.
Sonia, too, had been at a loss what to do with the young woman, and Will had disappeared for the rest of the morning, apparently having lost all interest in the newcomer. She felt miserable, taken advantage of and angry, both at herself and at the young billionaire.
She briefly explained to Turtu what had happened, and he whistled through his teeth. “You’re in a world of trouble now, hon. However did you manage that?”
She hung her head in despondency. “Pure stupidity, I guess.”
“Or karma,” came back Turtu. “For all those rallies you organized against the super-rich. They’ve come back to take their just revenge.”
“Yeah, right. As if they’d bother about little old me.”
She found Turtu’s mellow eyes on her. “And? How is he?”
She feigned ignorance. “Who?”
He laughed. “The billionaire, of course! Is he like that guy from that sex movie? Christian whatshisface?”
She sank a little deeper into her own personal pit of despond. “He’s actually very nice. Said he wanted to give me a chance to make up for my mistake by offering me a job.” The last vestiges of her self-esteem dwindling, she added, “Said he took pity on me and wanted to help me out.”
Turtu grinned. “So you’ve gone from fighting the rich to accepting handouts now, huh? Quite the change, honey.”
She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Shut up,” she groaned, knowing he was right. How had she come this far this quick? It was Will, she knew. Somehow he’d seduced her. With those electrifying eyes of his and that charming smile—not to mention that magical cock—he’d simply laid waste to a li
fetime of principles and beliefs. She was his now. But not for long, she quickly decided with a surge of the old fighting spirit.
She took a deep breath and sat a little straighter. “So how do I get out of this, Turtu? What do I need to do?”
He looked thoughtful for a moment, his lawyer’s brain working hard. Turtu might not look the part, but he was an up and coming legal eagle, one of her only friends who’d actually finished college and had launched himself into the rat race with all the eagerness and enthusiasm of one who might just make it.
“To be honest, I don’t think you’d stand much of a chance if this thing went to court. You did actually shoot up the place, didn’t you? And you did actually destroy that jewelry display. And I don’t think you’re ensured for this kind of thing?” When she shook her head, he muttered, “Thought not. But then most of us aren’t.”
He narrowed his gaze, staring straight ahead, and leaned back, his hands lacing behind his head. She could almost see his brain cells firing behind those keen eyes. Turtu wasn’t merely one of the smartest guys she knew, he’d stood side by side with her on the barricades, and was a loyal friend to boot. “From a legal standpoint, there’s little recourse,” he said slowly, “so I think you need to look at this from a wider perspective.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look, these big corporations, with all their lawyers and legal departments, they’re pretty much indestructible, right?”
“Right.”
He grinned. “Wrong. A company like Thornton is actually extremely vulnerable. They’re in the business of making money by selling shit to customers. The last thing they want is to get a bad rep and lose a bunch of those cherished customers.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, trying to follow his train of thought. “So?”
He held out his hands. “So Thornton has gotten a lot of bad press lately, on account of some scandal involving this William’s guy’s older brother and their sister. Some incest thing or whatever—doesn’t matter, really. Last thing they need right now is for some poor innocent girl to appear on the six o’clock news claiming she was abused by another scion of the same family, tricked into his employ because of an honest mistake she made.”
Her head jerked up. “Abused? I didn’t—“
He eyed her keenly. “You didn’t need to, honey. It’s written all over your face.” Then he wiped at the smudges on her cheeks. “And your eyes. Disadvantage of eyeliner? It runs when you cry.”
She lowered her gaze. “He—he kissed me,” she confessed, then sighed deeply. “And I liked it.”
“Isn’t that a song?” he quipped, but then seeing the seriousness of her expression, amended, “I’m sorry this had to happen to you, Kelley. You’re the nicest person I know. And if this guy really is taking advantage of you, we’ll nail his ass to the wall.”
The prospect of nailing Will’s ass to the wall suddenly appealed to her, and then it didn’t. She shook her head, feeling awfully conflicted about the whole thing. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “I… kinda like him.”
“Oh, honey,” muttered Turtu, and as she leaned into him, allowing him to wrap her into his arms, she felt tears sting behind her eyes, and before she could stop them, they were flowing truly and free, and the last remnants of her eyeliner were now really washed away in the sea of quiet sorrow.
“He’s not as bad as I thought,” she sniffed, angry at Will but mostly at herself.
Turtu sighed. “A nice billionaire. My word. When will this tragedy end?”
A smile quirked up her lips, and she dabbed at her eyes. “So what do I do? Threaten to take the story to the press?”
“Kelley, Kelley,” he admonished with a soft voice. “You’re the hacker in this small band of ours, aren’t you? I mean, who needs reporters when you can hack your way into a computer?”
At these words, illumination finally came to Kelley. Of course. Turtu was right. She could take care of this problem all by herself. Patting his arm, she whispered, “Thanks. I owe you one.”
“No, you don’t. You owe the Thorntons three point five million dollars, and you’re going to pay them back every cent and then some. Right?”
She returned upright and grinned at her friend, wiping the last tears from her eyes. “You damn skippy I will.”
Chapter 9
Riding the elevator all the way back to the eighteenth floor, she was filled with a renewed sense of purpose. She’d get out of this horrible situation, and she’d do it herself. Why she hadn’t thought to take this course of action before she didn’t know—maybe Will Thornton had hypnotized her after all.
She stepped from the elevator a new woman, and when she saw Will’s open door and his large frame leaning against the jamb, eyeing her strangely, she didn’t even stir. Then, when he crooked his finger, summoning her into his office, she held her head up high and sailed right past an apologetic-looking Mrs. Grey.
Whatever he had in store for her now, she knew she would get back at him later on, once she got her hands on a computer.
He closed the door behind her, and she didn’t wait for his invitation but walked straight up to the desk and took a seat. Then her eyes dipped to the top of the desk, and the memory of their sexual escapades of that morning crushed into her consciousness, and her resolve wavered.
When she felt his hands on her shoulders, firm and warm, she shivered, and when she felt his lips on the top of her head, giving her a kiss, her tummy turned a somersault.
“Kelley, Kelly, Kelley,” he sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”
He walked round to face her, and once again took a seat on the corner of his desk. She blinked when her eyes met the bulge in his pants, and she swallowed away a slight lump in her throat at the recollection of what that bump had made her feel that morning.
Get a grip, Kelley, she admonished herself and raised her eyes to meet his. “What do you mean, sir?”
His eyebrows rose. “Oh, it’s Sir now, huh? What happened to rich pig?”
“I feel that if we’re going to make this relationship work there have to be boundaries, sir,” she briefly explained, ignoring the lift of the corners of his lips at these words. “I’m your employee and should be treated as one. Likewise, I will treat you with the respect you deserve. Sir.”
He stared at her with a bemused expression on his youthful face. She wondered how old he was. Too young to run a company like this anyway.
“So you’re saying you’re going to be respecting me from now on? Why do I doubt that?”
“That’s your prerogative, sir.”
Suddenly his hand slashed the air. “Cut the crap, Kelley. You’re not one to respect authority, and I get that. What I can’t figure out is what I’m gonna do with you.”
He rose from the desk and paced the floor. So that’s why he’d left her sitting idly by all morning. He’d hired her and now didn’t know what to do with her.
“Look. I run a consultancy company. People pay me to analyze their business model, the way they structure their organization, financial set-up, the works. And I’m pretty good at what I do.”
“Is that why you were selling necklaces yesterday?” she couldn’t help mutter.
He nodded emphatically. “That’s exactly why I was selling necklaces yesterday. My brother hired me to take a long hard look at the way the store is set up and suggest improvements. Usually, I send one of my people to do the grunt work, but this time Scott insisted I handle the matter personally, so I did.”
She frowned. It didn’t make any sense. “You’re a billionaire,” she offered. “Why would you even work at all? I mean, it’s not as if you need the money.”
He stared at her for a moment, seemingly taken aback by this comment. “I see. So that’s what you think of me, huh? One of the idle rich? Just sits there and counts his money all day long?”
“Well, no,” she returned. “I’m guessing you have people who count your money for you. Sir.”
In spite of himself, Will had
to laugh. This girl was something else. Her insolence was so over the top it actually appealed to his sense of humor. So she thought he didn’t have to work for his money? “You don’t have a fucking clue, honey.” He stabbed a finger at her. “In my family, we all work. If we didn’t, the money my father and grandfather busted their gut to earn would all be squandered within a generation. It’s very easy to spend money—very hard to make it. You of all people should appreciate that.”
She shot him a look of indignation that was electrifying. He loved it when she was pissed, he had learned. And perhaps for that exact reason he loved pissing her off.
“If you’re suggesting I’m poor because I don’t work hard enough, you’re wrong!” she yelled. “I probably work harder than the lot of you filthy rich, and the fact that I have no money is simply because I loathe the stuff. Money is but dross—the worst invention of man, and I want nothing to do with it.”
This struck him as so ludicrous, he guffawed. “Money is dross,” he repeated, then shook his head. “Man, you’re something else, Kelley. You really are.”
“Well, it is, isn’t it?” She was only getting warmed up to the subject, he saw, for a flush spread across her cheeks and her eyes lit up with a holy fire as she rapidly launched into a speech she’d apparently given plenty of times before. “If not for money, there would be no war, no poverty, no hunger, no racism, no slavery, no pollution, no disease—“
“No creativity, no inventions, no progress,” he quickly interjected.
She glowered. “That’s bullshit and you know it. Only in a society not ruled by the false god of money can creativity really soar and humanity progress beyond the realm of the beasts in the field.”
He held up his hand. “Look, you don’t have to go into all that with me. I’m not one of your anarchist buddies. Your preachings are wasted on the likes of me.” He shrugged. “I’m one of the idle rich, remember?”
“Well, at least you work for a living,” she grumbled, scraping her foot along the floor. “Which is more than I can say for most of your ilk.”
