“That nonsense is my son, thank you very much!” Levi Parker replies. I guess I can see exactly why she loves him. He adores her like the sun shines out of her ass. His bright blue eyes and rugged looks are movie-star quality, and his five o’clock shadow is sexy as hell in his polished suit. Something about a man with a little silver around the edges does it for me too.
“This better be the last one!” I sass them both while turning away to walk through the crowd like I own it. I amble my way around, making small talk with a couple senators, a lawyer or two, and the current secretary of state. I won’t ask how Suzanne got him here, but color me impressed.
Chapter 3
Unfaithful
Remy
Thank god for fucking bourbon. There is no way I am going to get through another one of these awful, snobby, bullshit events without some Widow Jane in my hand. I know I am picky, but my friends are too. We expect the best—demand it, to be more accurate.
Friends—what a fucking crock of shit.
The people I am forced to associate with are business tycoons, money-hungry politicians, dirt bags, and scum of the earth type greedy bastards, and I am the king of them all.
I walk into the Four Seasons Boston with my wife on my arm for yet another silent auction for a charity I don’t give a fly rat’s ass about. Suzanne is dressed to kill in an evening gown that sparkles and cost a small fortune; add in the diamonds that drip from everywhere on her body, the stilettos that could sever an artery, her hair and makeup, and she is the most expensive arm candy money can buy—and well worth every cent.
Suzanne is perfect. She smiles through bright red lips, shaking everyone’s hands, making sure her networking game is on point, like always. It is, in fact, her only job in this world: look gorgeous and make me look even better.
“Remington Black, it is a pleasure.” An older man I know I should know but cannot for the life of me place grabs my hand with a godawful limp noodle handshake—the worst thing a man could ever have.
Suzanne puts her hand on my shoulder gently. “Senator Reginald Forester, Remington and I are so thrilled to finally put a face to the name. Thank you for coming tonight.”
The senator shows his age, from the white in his beard to the harsh lines that litter his upper lip, forehead, and eyes. “I wouldn’t miss this event for the world, my dear.” I kiss the back of my wife’s hand as my mind mulls over his last name. Forester. I know that name, but not for him, for his wife—Heather.
As Suzanne makes small talk with the slimeball, I let myself scan the room, looking for his much younger, much prettier better half. Fuck she is a sweet piece of ass.
Heather. Even the thought of my last conquest turns me on, and I have to fight the half chub that is growing in my slacks. If Suzanne notices, it will turn into a fight I don’t have the patience for tonight.
“Remy?” a soft voice whispers behind me.
Heather is in a skintight little black number, her dark hair up in a ponytail—just the way I like it. I want to take her for round two right on the buffet table that is perfectly placed behind her.
I growl in her ear. “I barely recognized you without my tie around your neck, my dear.” I kiss the back of her hand, straightening up quickly as Suzanne makes her way back to my side.
Taking Heather’s outstretched hand, Suzanne introduces herself cordially. All I can think about is the image of that same hand of Heather’s wrapped firmly around my cock only twelve hours before in her husband’s study. My thighs are still sore from squatting over her as she deep throated my cock.
Wrapping my tie around her neck, I cinched it tighter, finding the sound of her breath hitching intoxicating. With her wrists bound to her ankles with my dress shirt, I pulled her head to the edge of the oversized chaise lounge in her husband’s study, letting her head lean back just a bit to get the perfect angle.
Heather’s huge, fake tits bounced while I bent down, starting to slap her nipples. Letting the head of my dick rub her soft lips, my balls rested on her forehead. My view was fucking incredible.
“Open,” I growled.
She listened well.
“Good girl.”
I thrust my cock deep down into her throat as she gagged. Over and over I fucked her throat raw. Tweaking her right nipple with one hand, I leaned over to tease her swollen bud, forcing my cock farther into her mouth. I could see her nails digging into her ankles as she gasped and moaned, shaking under me.
My thighs were screaming from the half-kneel, half-squat I had to do to make this position work, but there was no way I was giving up that easily. The view was amazing and I was sure the load I was going to flood her with would be even better.
A thin layer of sweat coated my body as a moan bellowed from deep within my throat. As Heather’s body started to tremble beneath me, I knew I was getting her close to a climax, but she wasn’t going to get one yet. I was going to control every last minute of her pleasure and pain for the rest of the night.
“Remy?” Suzanne and Heather are both staring blankly at me while my wife tries to get my attention.
“Yeah? What?” I shake my head a few times, reluctantly escaping my daydream.
Suzanne puts her hand on mine, glancing over at Heather with a devilish glare. “Please excuse me and my husband.”
Heather nods. “It was a pleasure,” she mutters before making her way back over to a gaggle of women from the country club we are all members of. I can’t help but stare at her ass swaying side to side as she walks away from us. What I wouldn’t give to have my teeth sinking into her juicy cheeks right now instead of listening to my wife drone on and on about other ways she is going to drain my bank account—like she didn’t make enough money from that bullshit reality show.
“So, the trip to Tahiti would be nice to bid on, or maybe the signed guitar from the lead singer of The Hysterics. What do you think?”
I pull my checkbook out from my inside coat pocket. “Here. You have a better eye for this crap than I do and quite frankly, I don’t give a shit what we bid on. It’s for the veterans, after all.”
Suzanne lets a coy smile play on her lips as she fixes my tie. “This is for the women’s professional society, the one I head with Seven and Ellie. But, I am sure some of those wounded soldiers were in foster care at some point or another, so sure, it’s for the veterans, you ass.” Her voice is low as the disdain drips from her lips. Who does this little bitch think she is?
“Wait until we get home. I know just what to do with brats, little girl,” I hiss, and she diverts her eyes. My wife knows full well whom she belongs to and whom she needs to obey. It is only in these rare moments out in public when she grows the balls to disrespect me. She is desperate to be somebody.
Suzanne gently kisses my cheek. “I am sorry, sir.” Her voice is a whisper as she glances up at me, begging for forgiveness like the good little pet she is.
I suck down the last of the bourbon in my glass, leaving only ice behind, begging for it to magically refill itself. “I need another. Go find me some more clients.” I give her a quick smack on the ass, sending my hot wife on a mission to find another political figure for me to defend, completely ignoring the fact that she is supposed to be one of the hosts for the evening.
Being the best of the best defense attorneys to the rich and powerful is like being a demon right out of hell’s gates. I am the guy the guilty go to when they need their tracks covered and things kept quiet. My lack of conscience mixed with the money it brings in makes it all worthwhile.
“What’ll it be?” The chipper young bartender with his hair in a perfect comb-over and sleeves of tattoos grins over at me.
“Widow Jane neat.”
He pours my drink and I throw a dollar into the tip jar right as a gorgeous bombshell walks through the front door. Her hair is short and jet black. Her bright red lips look enticingly juicy as she smiles and hugs the people who are greeting her. Heather’s heels click next to me and she orders another glass of Moet.
I pretend to ignore her, walking casually away. There is no chance in hell I am going to miss that rendezvous and she knows it.
Suzanne walks over to me, arm in arm with Judge Coldwell. “Hey James, how have you been?”
The judge and I shake hands as he purses his lips. “We’ve been better, Remy. Suzanne is going to make Layla and me an appointment for this coming Monday.” You can see the shame written all over his face. He is nothing short of pissed.
“Your daughter get in a bit of trouble?” I question, waving at the bartender for two more drinks for Suzanne and Judge Coldwell.
“You could say that. Children, always messing things up, I tell you.” James laughs to himself for a second, swirling his whiskey a bit. “You two have got the right idea. Enjoy being married, don’t fuck it up with reproducing and dealing with spawn. They only cause headaches, damn kids. Can’t have anything nice!”
The mystery girl came back into my view and I point her out to the judge and Suzanne. “Do you two have any idea who that is? She seems so familiar, but I have no idea who she is.”
Suzanne glares at me as his lips part a little, taking a second to respond. “That’s Ellie McGuire, one of the women I run this organization with.” She tries to mask her annoyance. I know virtually nothing of what she does with her free time; frankly, I don’t give a shit.
I cough a little; I sure as shit would have remembered someone so stunning. “Oh, I didn’t recognize her all dolled up.” I try to play it off, but the eye roll Suzanne gives me makes me want to bend her over my knee right there in front of the judge.
It makes sense that she is one of the socialites, daughter of one of the richest real estate tycoons in the country, Theo McGuire. It is extremely rare for there to ever be an outsider at one of these events. Old money never mixes its blood with outsiders; it is the only way to keep the secrets and the money safe. Most of us don’t share well with others, especially me.
I check my watch: I only have three minutes until I’m supposed to be meeting Heather. “It was nice to see you Judge. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. Please, excuse me.” Suzanne starts to follow and I put up my hand. “I need a minute, sweetheart,” I growl at her and she knows from the tone in my voice to let me be.
“I will be with Seven and Ellie out in the ballroom making sure everything is ready for the speeches tonight.” With that, my wife does as she is trained to do and leaves me alone to enjoy myself.
Finding my way up the grand marble staircase, all the way to the back of the hallway, I slip into the light marble bathroom, locking the door behind me.
Heather is already out of her dress, standing up against the counter in her see-through lace bra, matching thong, and a garter belt that is hooked to her knee-high black sheer stockings with a lace trim. Fuck me she is gorgeous.
Picking her up and setting her on the large counter, I slide Heather’s panties to the side, letting my thumb glide over her wetness.
“I have been craving this all day,” she coos in my ear.
My voice is low and gravely as I respond, “As have I.”
Heather slowly undoes my belt and pants, letting them fall around my ankles. With my dick in her hand, she crashes her lips to mine. As our tongue glide together, she tastes like fine champagne and caviar—completely delicious. I lose myself in her mouth while making my move.
Gripping her ponytail in one hand, I plunge my thumb into her with force, making her gasp.
“I still owe you from last night, little girl. Do you think you finally deserve your release?”
She bites down on her bottom lip while nodding. “Please,” she whispers before sinking her teeth lightly into my neck above my jacket collar. “I need it, Remy. Please.”
Pulling Heather off the sink, I turn her around and bend her over the counter. I sink down on my knees, pulling her thong down around her ankles. I let my tongue dance slowly from her ass to her sweet little cunt. She moans and bucks her hips, grinding on my face while I nibble and suck on her clit.
Right as her knees started to quake, I get to my feet, palm my cock, and thrust it deep into her dripping pussy. I know time is of the essence and I need to make quick work of getting us both off. Hammering into her cunt, I wrap my fingers around her slender throat. Within minutes, we are both consumed in the ecstasy of our climaxes, my release dripping from her swollen cunt.
I nip at Heather’s neck. “You’re one scandalous minx, you know that?”
She shimmies back into her dress and I help her zip it up. “You have no idea, babe.”
I fucking hate pet names. I am sir or master, but never babe or baby.
“What did you call me?” I growl in her ear, fixing my pants and tucking in my shirt.
“Sorry, sir. It will not happen again.”
I leave Heather in the bathroom to join the rest of the patrons and finish out the irksome silent auction and charity dinner I would rather gouge my eyes out with a dull spoon than sit through, but appearances must be kept up at all costs.
Chapter 4
Charity
Ellie
Speaking in public isn’t a favorite of mine, but I have mastered it over the past ten years. With age and education, I became more refined, though it wasn’t always easy. I let out a little chuckle as I move through the crowd, heading to the stage, pausing for a moment next to Theo long enough to nudge him to follow as I continue through the crowd.
Joining Suzanne and Seven, we walk up the few steps and onto the main stage to begin to bring the evening to a close. The three of us will give our respective speeches and the ceremony will come to an end. I like to keep things short and sweet. Taking my place between the other two women, I smile and keep my best fake face plastered on as Linc hands me a microphone from his perch in the front row of the crowd gathering at the stage.
“Good evening everyone, and thank you so much for joining us this evening.” My exaggeration could be fit for a Miss America pageant. I don’t know how anyone can actually be this nice all the fucking time. I smirk while I continue my speech. “I want to take this time to talk a bit about our charity and what exactly we do. The Bright Futures Initiative is something I started in college after having the chance to work with underprivileged girls who lived most of their childhood in the foster care system.” I lie through my teeth to the crowd, knowing if it weren’t for Theo, I would be just like so many of these girls: undereducated with no chance of a real future.
“Many foster children who enter the system over the age of ten years old will age out of the system at eighteen with little education, no high school diploma, and no options to obtain either. This is where the Boston Chamber of Young Professional Women stepped in and began the Bright Futures Initiative. We have successfully opened a vocational education school for girls, funded thousands of scholarships allowing these young women to further their education, and so much more! The money we raise tonight will likely fund our charity for a full calendar year, so go ahead and give yourselves a huge round of applause!” The crowd claps enthusiastically and I pass the microphone to Seven for her portion.
“Thank you! Good evening everyone! My name is Seven James-Parker and I am one of the cofounders here. While these women have done excellent work here in the Boston area, that is not where our foundation stops! We have a second location based in New York City where we assist foster girls in the five boroughs. As a businesswoman who is self-made, I knew it was my civic duty to extend my knowledge and assistance to young women in need. Through the vocational programs I’ve hand chosen, we have been able to educate these girls on more than just your average book smarts. I’m so proud to announce that since we started this program, more than three thousand girls have graduated from our vocational school, an additional forty-five hundred have received scholarships to college, and ten
now work as full time employees at White-Woods Global, my corporation.” The room roars with applause, most of them just clapping because that is what you do at these things, not because they give a shit about these girls or what we are doing. Seven passes the microphone to Suzanne and comes to stand next to me.
“Thank you so much,” Suzanne says while beginning to pace around the stage. She’s a performer in so many different ways. “We appreciate the ongoing support from our community here. As many of you know, my start to life was a bumpy one. While I didn’t personally go through the foster care system, the poverty I lived in was hell. Looking back today, I am thankful I am in a position to give back now.” Suzanne stops for a second, looking like she is trying to choke back tears. “Please be sure to go get the last of your bids in before we close the silent auction!” She quickly excuses herself from the stage, making her way through the crowd.
I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. I want to go home, climb into my bed, and fall asleep. I have an early day tomorrow and travel on top of that. I can’t say flying is my favorite thing ever, but it is a necessary evil.
After a quick bathroom break, I start to mingle with the wealthy donors that are shelling out small fortunes to help our cause. Suzanne catches my eye and strides over with a man with the biggest scowl on his face. He looks familiar, but half of the people here do. Their names are lost to me; eventually all the snobby ones start to run together and I can’t keep them all straight.
“Ellie.” She puts her hand on the man’s wide chest. “I’m not sure if I have formally introduced you to my husband, Remington Black.”
I watch as his thirsty eyes rake over my body, basically undressing me before he takes my outstretched hand. “Ellie, a pleasure.” His words slur together. For an older man, Remington is devilishly handsome. Light hints of gray speckle his short reddish beard, and he’s tall and husky with light amber eyes and a bright toothy grin. But, there is something that skeeves me out. Maybe it’s the way he never looks at Suzanne, instead scanning the room for every other attractive woman in the joint, or it could be how obviously sloshed he is. There is also the fact that he reeks of pussy and sweat under a layer of expensive cologne. Either way, I know Suzanne could do so much better than this slimeball lawyer.
The Huntress Page 3
