by Alexis Angel
There’s something about the way Carter Jeffries operates that’s making me more and more uncomfortable with each passing day. Somehow, I have the feeling that this whole embezzling situation is just getting started … Maybe I should press her for answers, but there’s no use in that.
She might be hiding something, but so am I.
“Let’s grab something to eat. I’m so hungry you wouldn’t believe it,” she continues, trying to change the conversation. I put on my best smile, trying to push my suspicions to the back of my mind, and nod.
“Sounds good.”
In my chest, my heart is growing heavier. Can there be any connection between Alicia and the embezzler?
Alicia
So you remember the other day when I asked you what else could go good in my life?
When I asked you that, I had no idea what the next several days would be like.
I mean, right now, I'm on some sort of Cloud 9.
Let's tick off all the reasons why rubbing my ass all over Derek's cock on the subway was like the start of a remarkable upswing in my till-now single, boring, Upper East Side New York City girl, life.
Let's see.
First, let's get the big giant thing out of the way and say that the sex that I've been having is like freakin' off the charts good. Like life changing good.
I mean, to describe it any other way would probably not do it enough justice. Derek just seems to know exactly the right buttons to turn me on. And then once I'm turned on, to keep me in that zone. I think in one week I've had more orgasms with him than I've had combined the last few months.
And he's not all about sex, either. Like, we sit around and talk also. You know, for a billionaire, he's pretty down to earth. I mean there's the confidence that he possesses, which I think he would have regardless of whether he was made out of money or not. That's pretty sexy. Like, he knows exactly what he wants and how to get it.
Sometimes, that means me too. He knows exactly what he wants me to do, or how he wants me. When he just uses me like that—uses me in a good way, of course—the orgasms just shatter my mind. I mean, it's a whole different level of pleasure that I'm getting when this guy is just completely using me as a sex toy. In the process he's just making me cum my brains out. To the point where I see black stars, and pass out for a few minutes. No lie, I swear. He fucks me so good that I just basically fall into a literal sex coma.
But see, I just went back into sex again. I promise there is so much more to our relationship than just sex. This guy has basically conquered the world as far as he needs to. He's pretty much the big dog wherever he goes. So I feel safe with him. It's like the sense of security I don't get when I'm hanging out with guys my age—still trying to find themselves and such. He's a great provider, and he's always thinking about the next thing.
What? I know that look. It's the same look Ashley gave me like last night when I was talking about him.
"You totally love him already," she declared after like a few minutes. We were at Dos Caminos after Pilates and on our second Pina Colada.
"I do not!" I remember telling her.
"Then maybe try talking about something, anything, other than him for a bit, babe," she gently chided me.
And it's so true. Like, I am totally crushing on the guy. Remember when Ashley was trying to get me to spill the beans on Derek and I didn't want to say anything?
Well, it's like the tables are suddenly turned now and I want any ol' excuse to bring up Derek.
I think I'm turning into one of THOSE girls. You know, the ones who can't stop talking about their boyfriends.
But, not like Derek is my boyfriend or anything. I'm totally not thinking that.
Besides, the only reason my mind is wandering right now is because I'm sitting in front of two computer screens looking at rows and rows of numbers and I have no idea where to start.
I mean, so this project that Nadia is tasking me with and promoting me for has like just me on the team. And I can't tell anyone about it. I'm supposed to be looking at Derek's transactions on a individual line item level and find any inconsistencies or red flags. A lot of the transactions are automated and already pre-programmed so I have no idea what I'm looking for. Plus I'm not a tech person. So I have to go through this data bit by bit.
This promotion is the only thing that I'm kinda thinking may have sounded better in theory than in practice. Because it's turning out to be pretty frustrating. I mean, just a little bit of excitement would be nice, you know? But I don't even know what kind of excitement I'd --
Wait a second.
My eyes narrow and I look closer a the spreadsheet.
That's odd.
Six months ago, there was an individual money transfer that was done manually. Monies from one of Derek's accounts left the country. Usually when it's this much, $1.2 million, you have to fill out some forms. But I don't see any forms declaring foreign capital outflow that the government requires attached to this transaction.
And it looks like the money went to an offshore account based in ... North Korea?
That can't be right. There are sanctions placed against doing business in North Korea.
But wait.
I start looking at the transactions in this account. Money inflows from Russia. Outflows to shell corporations that have ties to Iran. Some transactions with businesses are based out of Iraq.
Normally, this kinda stuff would trigger automatic red flags. But I just stumbled onto this account by accident. It was literally on my screen and hidden as a sub-account in such a way that if I hadn't gone line by line, no one would ever have seen it.
I need to tell Derek. He could be in a lot of trouble.
I'm about to send him a text when I realize Nadia told me not to tell anyone.
Not even Derek.
Maybe I should go to her?
I know that's probably the right course of action, but something is stopping me.
Maybe I need to do a bit more work.
Crap, you ever wish you could get a do-over?
I'd do it over and never ask for this assignment to be exciting.
Derek
Why do women do that? They take a few bites of food and say that they're full when they clearly aren't. Their eyes don't lie. Who do they think they're kidding? I can see the way she's looking at this spread. She's holding back, but she wants more.
"I can't eat too much tonight," Alicia says, sitting back in her chair and patting her stomach. "Ever since I've started seeing you, I've been eating such rich foods—I mean there's butter and cream on everything, Derek! Don't you realize I'm going to have an ass the size of Texas if I keep this up?"
We're both laughing at this point.
"Have you taken a good look at your ass in a mirror lately?" I ask. "It's perfect. Now stop complaining and enjoy this."
I've ordered us the Chef's Tasting Menu at Per Se tonight, and our waiter has just brought us the "Oysters and Pearls." The oysters are decadent and topped with tapioca pearls and caviar. I hold one to her lips.
"C'mon," I say. "You know what they say about oysters…"
She takes it from me in one hand. Her fingernails are painted a soft pink and make her hand seem even more delicate than it already does. She smiles and parts her lips. "Okay, just one more."
I watch as she tilts the oyster into her mouth. It slides down her throat in one quick gulp, and as it does, I fight the urge to reach over the table and press my mouth to hers … and her lips…. and her neck.
"Don't get me wrong," she says. "This is amazing—but maybe we should be cooking more. You have a great kitchen. Let's put it to use."
"That's too much of a girlfriend thing to do," I say. And it really is. Where's the magic and romance in that?
"Well … what do you expect? I am your girlfriend."
I'm not exactly sure why, but that comment stops me in my tracks. It's a bold thing to say. I mean, I get it. I do. I know where she's coming from. We've been seeing each other—fucking, eatin
g, and watching movies together nearly every night of the week, but I haven't considered what it all exactly means. And why should I?
“And you were my girlfriend?” I ask. “Anything else I need to know? Just because I really didn’t know you were looking at me as your boyfriend.”
I mean, I have nothing against it. But where was I when she made this decision?
I’m worth several billion dollars. I’ve lived all over the world. I’ll be damned if I get henpecked like a castrated suburban house man.
"Oh really?" she asks. "So what do you call this—us?"
"Why does everything need a label? As soon as something has a label stuck to it, the magic is gone. It's trapped in a box."
Fine. I’m also a bit scared. But repeat it to anyone and I’ll deny it.
"So, if I'm not your girlfriend … then I guess that means I don't need to fuck you tonight?" she asks playfully. Even though she's being frisky and good-humored, I see a hint of seriousness in her eyes.
"Well, you don't need to, but you want to," I say.
"How do you know what I want?"
"Call it intuition," I say with a wink.
"If I'm not your girlfriend, I think what I want has changed."
"Is that so? Even after these oysters… and chocolate…? It doesn't get much better than this," I say.
She slaps me playfully on the arm, and once we finish our food, we head outside to catch our limo, arm in arm. When we both slide into the black leather seats, she leans over to me, and softly kisses me on the lips.
"Thank you for a great dinner," she says, "Even if it was decadent … as is making my ass wide."
I wrap one arm around her and kiss her back, taking her bottom in between my teeth and giving her a small nibble.
"You're perfect," I say.
I can feel her reach over and place one hand on my thigh, and she slowly moves it closer to my cock until she's finally grasping it beneath my suit pants. I can feel myself growing hard under her touch, until my cock is pulsing and threatening to bust through the zipper.
Just then she leans back and releases her grip on me.
"Stop the car please," she shouts to the driver. My mind is reeling. Why is she stopping?
"What are you doing?"
"I only spend weeknights with boyfriends," she says. "So, I guess that means I won't be sleeping over with you tonight."
I watch as she opens the door. I'm fucking speechless. Is she really turning me down and getting out of the limo?
"Are you serious?" That's the only thing that comes out of my mouth.
"Good night, Derek," she replies, giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder.
"Look, two can play this game," I say. "If you really want to be alone tonight, that's fine."
But she doesn't say another word and exits the limo and shuts the door, and with that the driver takes off. I look out the window, and back at Alicia. She's walking toward her apartment, her purse slung off one shoulder. I continue to watch her until her figure fades in the distance, and then it hits me. What the fuck am I doing? I'm being stupid. This is ridiculous. I can't leave her like that.
It still takes me five minutes going down FDR Drive towards Lower Manhattan to realize what a mistake I made.
The driver has turned on some soft background music and I yell to him over the noise. "Turn this car around!"
He turns the volume down and asks, "Excuse me?"
"Turn us around. I need you to take me back to the Upper East Side."
"Yes, sir."
He speeds back uptown and fifteen minutes later I look at the window and watch as Alicia's neighborhood comes back into view. Within a few moments, the limo pulls up to her curb.
"Thank you! No need to wait," I say.
"You're welcome, have a good night sir."
I close the door and rush up the steps to Alicia's apartment. I reach her door and knock.
I don't hear any noise and I knock again, this time a little louder.
Still nothing. Has she already gone to bed? I haven't been gone that long, have I?
I try one more time, and just as I'm about to turn around, I hear her footsteps. She opens the door and she's beautiful. Her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. She's changed into a silk robe and it looks incredibly sexy on her.
"You're back?" she asks.
Without saying a word, I step toward her.
I’m never going to leave her. So, yes. I’m back.
Alicia
So I guess this is what happens when I decide to keep my mouth shut about potential international money laundering, huh?
The guy I’m covering for doesn’t even want me to be his girlfriend.
Well, fuck him.
That’s what I tell myself as I open my cupboard and take out a bottle of wine.
That’s right, babe. I’m drinking by myself. I’m going to nurse my wounded pride.
Whatever. I mean, I got him hard and left him, which was probably a bitchy thing to do, but it’s part of the dance.
I’m all changed into my comfy silk robe and I’m going to watch Teen Mom on MTV and drink till I get sleepy. Then I’ll go to sleep and call Mom and Dad in the morning on Skype and tell them I love them.
Sounds like a plan.
Oh my God…it’s a plan all right. For spinsterhood.
That’s when I hear a knock on the door.
“Alicia?” I hear a voice.
It's Derek.
Damn, I musta left him with some big blue balls, huh?
My heart races even more and I hesitate for maybe a second and then run across the living room and open the door.
Derek's standing there, about to knock again.
I open the door and look at him. “You’re back…” I trail off.
"Why'd you go?" he asks me bluntly. "Was it really to teach me a lesson?"
I look at him. He's looking at me. I don't see that smirk of his. I don't see the cocky, arrogant billionaire prick that the newspapers say he is when I Googled him. I don't even see my client I’m investigating and hiding what I know from.
I see the most handsome face I've ever seen in my life. Attached to the hottest body I've ever been close to—my fantasies can't even compare to what this guy has.
He doesn’t know that every fiber of my body wanted to just inhale his cock in the limo. That during dinner today I was thinking screw work. Let’s give love a chance.
But when he just went off on how he doesn’t do girlfriends I completely went the other way. Thought I need to protect myself from falling for him even more.
No, Derek knows nothing of this. He should be lucky he doesn’t have to go through this.
I turn away so he doesn’t see my face and walk to the window.
Okay, I know it’s dramatic. Whatever. I don’t want him to see me like this.
I can feel him come up close behind me. I can feel his chest against my back. "Why?" he asks.
My heart's racing and it feels like it's going to burst. "You’re not looking for a girlfriend," I murmur, feeling his hands on my sides. It feels so good. I take a step back without realizing what I'm doing and find myself pushed up against him. I can feel his cock. It's poking into my ass. I move my ass slightly, nestling his cock in between my ass cheeks.
"That's why you left?" he asks me. "Because I said I’m not looking for a girlfriend?"
I'm not thinking about a relationship anymore right now though. All I'm thinking about is Derek's cock. God, I need his cock. His arms are on my waist, pulling me closer.
“I’m sorry,” he says to me. “I’m an ass. I can’t last fifteen minutes without you.”
His cock pushes through my robs, parting my ass cheeks.
“I…” I’m stammering. I can’t think. I press back against him, my ass rubbing against his crotch. Oh my God, what am I doing? The fabric of my robe is so thin that I can already feel it bunching up on my ass.
He stays where he is, his cock nestled between my ass cheeks, and I feel my whole
body boiling. He’s big… He’s so big. And I want it, there’s no other way about it. I can’t think of anything else but his body and his hard cock. Because, yes, it’s very hard…
My skin prickles as I realize what’s happening: Derek’s here in the room with me, and he wants me. And if he wants, he will have me. I can’t fight against it! The desire that crawls under my skin is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt in my whole life. I know this is a mistake, but I can’t run away from what’s about to happen. I just can’t.
Before I know it, I’m rubbing my ass up and down against him, his pulsing cock against my body. His hands go down my side to the hem of the robe and he lifts it up, baring my ass. His fingers brush against my skin and trace the contour of my thong, and I shudder at his closeness. I push back once again, rocking my hips against his body as I grind over his cock.
Even without being able to see what I’m doing, I take my hands to his back and try to find the hem of his pants. My trembling fingers find his crotch, and in an instant, I’m unbuttoning his trousers. When I’m done his cock immediately tents up his boxer briefs and jumps up against my hand; but before I manage to grab it, Derek pushes against me and I have to take my hands to the wall.
With one hand on my waist, he grabs my ass with the other. I sway my ass against him, over his cock, my mind already looking forward to how it will feel to have him inside me.
His hands slide around my waist and under my robe, climbing up my inner thigh and making my skin prickle. His fingers brush over my groin, and if I was wet before, I become completely drenched now. I close my eyes, moving my hips harder and grinding against him almost desperately. A moan leaves my lips as he brushes his fingers over my thong, applying a gentle and barely noticeable pressure over my wet pussy.
God, I don’t know if I should press back against his cock or press my pussy against his hand. Now these are some good problems to have.
He solves my dilemma pretty quickly; he presses his hand over my pussy and pulls me into him, his cock pressing hard between my cheeks.
I dart my hands back, resting it over his boxers and clumsily grabbing at his hard long shape there. I knew he was big—those were the rumors—but I never imagined he would be so… massive. He’s so thick it’s even hard to curl my fingers around it…!
