by Alexis Angel
I say this proudly because honestly, I am proud to have Piper as one of my conquests, up on my metaphorical wall of fame.
“She’s smoking hot,” Jack agrees. “Did you actually sign something?”
“I did.” I nod. “I don’t think I can get out of it now. I’ll have to take my business overseas if she kicks my ass to the curb.”
“You certainly don’t want that shit,” Rob adds.
“There’s one other tiny detail I’m leaving out,” I say and pause.
“What?” They both look apprehensive.
“Her fucking ex is trying to blackmail me too. He says if I don’t back out of the contract, he’ll take my company. He’s apparently got some Asian investors to back him up. I’m fucked.”
“Nah, he’s bluffing.” Jack is adamant.
“He’s not.” I shake my head sadly.
“Take the money and run,” Jack says and Rob agrees.
I contemplate this.
I’m backed into a corner, and there doesn’t seem to be a fucking outlet. I need to keep my company afloat, but I’m doomed either way because I have to appease two people who want to fuck me over if I don’t comply with their fucking demands.
“I’ll think about getting a duffle bag full of cash and beelining it the hell out of Dodge,” I say, but I’m only partially serious.
The more I think about it, the more I can’t deny there’s more to this story than just the fucking money. I think I’m beginning to care for Piper, no matter how strongly my subconscious tries to push those feelings to the back of my mind. But I can’t tell these assholes that.
What the fuck am I supposed to do.
I nurse a few more drinks and stew over my situation.
Finally, after privately evaluating the choices, I fucking realize my mind is already thoroughly made up now. Shit, it probably has been all along. Yet I went and acting like a fucking asshole to her over the phone.
Goddammit. Per usual, I went and ran my cocky mouth. I knock back the rest of my drink, my mind set. I have to talk to Piper and make things right with her.
27
Zane
I rap my knuckles against Piper’s apartment door. I know I have to do some serious damage control because chicks always get their feelings hurt so fucking easily, it makes my head spin.
Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a fucking asshole who’s totally devoid of any feelings whatsoever, and I don’t want to see Piper hurting.
Admitting that I actually fucking care about her feelings, proves that I’m not a complete douche, but it also scares the fuck out of me because it means I must actually have growing feelings for her after all.
I hate it when my mind plays tricks on me and I can’t figure out what decisions to make. I don’t even fucking care about the blackmail right now, I just want to make sure Piper’s not hanging from her fucking shower rod or something.
She answers the door, and I notice immediately that her eyes are puffy and dark, and her hair is unkempt and askew.
“Is that really what you’re wearing to the gala tonight?” I ask.
“What the fuck are you talking about? What gala?” Her eyes grow wide with fear.
I shake my head.
“I’m sorry, I’m only kidding, there’s no gala.” I laugh a little, but she breathes fast and puts her hand over her chest.
“You fucking jerk,” she says shakily, but she allows me into the apartment anyway, much to my surprise.
“I thought you’d get the joke,” I say.
“Why?” She sniffs.
“You know, because you obviously don’t look ready to go to any gala this condition.” I wink.
Fuck, now she’s really hurt and upset. What the fuck is wrong with me? Her eyes puddle with fresh tears.
“I’m only teasing you,” I say and rub her wilting back. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m used to it by now with you.” She blows her nose into a tissue.
I can hear sad music coming from her bedroom. I raise an eyebrow and she closes the door quickly.
“Sorry, I’m just really upset about the fact that I’m not pregnant.” She flops onto her couch and sighs dramatically.
“It was only the first month,” I say and pat her knee. “There’s always next month.”
“Yeah, I guess,” she says and shrugs.
“I have to tell you something,” I admit.
She looks up at me through glassy, watery eyes.
“What is it?”
“You still look hot as hell. I was only joking with you earlier.”
Piper laughs and waves her hand dismissively.
“You don’t have to do that, I know I’m a fucking train wreck.” She stares at the floor.
“No, you’re not,” I say adamantly and turn to face her, taking her tiny hands to cradle within my own.
They’re soft and warm and make my insides tingle. I’m fucking losing it with her; she just has a magnetic pull with me or something.
“I’m sad,” she sighs.
“I know you are,” I rub her thumb, “but don’t be.”
“Oh, thanks I feel all better now.” She gives me a feeble smile with sarcasm.
I roll my eyes.
“Let me finish, it’s really going to be okay. Everything that’s meant to be will happen.”
I squeeze her hands together, and she stares at me as if she’s just seeing me for the first time.
“What’s gotten into you? Are you sure you’re really Zane, and not some clone pretending to be him?”
“Yes, why?” I nod my head, confused.
“The Zane Tanner I know does not give advice or show emotions,” she laughs.
“I’m giving myself a makeover,” I joke.
“Well if it’s any consolation, you look fucking sexy as hell too,” she says.
“Thanks.” I beam at her compliment, even though I already know she’s right.
“I really want a baby,” she whispers.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” I say. “There’s plenty of time.”
I hate seeing her so miserable like this. I wish there was some way I could console her, but I’m a failure of fucking epic proportions right now.
“Thanks for comforting me,” she says and smiles at me sheepishly. “I promise I won’t be a total basket case every month.”
“It’s okay,” I say and continue to rub her hand. “I know it’s disappointing, but do you really have to listen to Kenny G?”
This gets her to laugh, finally. She explodes into fits of laughter and tears spill from her eyes that have nothing to do with her melancholy mood.
“It’s not Kenny G.” She shakes her head.
“Oh, sorry…” I grin. “I just think all sad music has a sappy saxophone or some shit in it,” I say and shrug.
I’m not great at being there for her, but I’m fucking trying hard as hell to succeed. The fact that she’s laughing now shows me that I’m on the right track.
“Why is having a baby so important to you?” I ask.
She takes a deep breath and leans back in the couch.
“How much time do you have?” She chuckles and looks up at me.
“All the time in the world,” I offer, and I actually fucking mean it.
“Well,” she says. “I want a baby because when I was growing up, my mom worked like crazy. She was a criminal defense attorney, and neglected me more than she probably realized at the time.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I admit, although I’m happy that Piper is opening up to me about her life. I know it’s not something she does regularly, and it’s nice that she trusts me with things like that.
“It’s okay,” she says and picks at her thumbnail. “Anyway, she died right before I graduated high school.”
“Holy fuck!” I gasp. “I’m so sorry Piper.” I give her a hug.
“She got stage four breast cancer and it took her pretty quick,” Piper admits. “A few nights before she died, she told me she regrets how she was ne
ver involved much in my life, and that she wishes she had focused more on her family than work.”
“That’s fucking deep,” I say with a shake of my head.
Piper takes a swig from her water bottle.
“I want to have a baby, so that if my mom is watching me from Heaven or wherever she is right now, she’ll know that I forgive her and I’ll do my best at giving my own child everything that she couldn’t give me.”
Piper’s eyes have tears in them again and one single tiny tear dribbles down her cheek and lands in her lap.
I’m so overcome with emotion too, but don’t get me wrong, I’m still burly and fucking macho as hell. I’m not going to cry, so don’t wait around for that to happen because it won’t.
My mind is made up now, though. I want to make Piper happy and give her everything she deserves: a family and a child.
The blackmail is the furthest thing from my mind right now, after I see the light and the legitimate reasons Piper has for wanting a baby so badly.
“I want to give you this baby,” I say with vigor.
She looks up at me.
“Thanks.”
I look deep into her eyes for a quiet moment.
“Piper…?” My voice is a whisper.
“Yes?” Her breath is on my neck.
“I love you.”
I can’t even fucking believe it myself. It’s crazy. Insane, right? Me, Mr. Fuck ‘em and Leave ‘em, in love. But it’s fucking true as shit.
And there it is, out in the open now. I feel so much better, now that I’m purging how I really feel about her and there’s nothing left to hold back.
“I love you too,” she says and places her hands on my chin.
And they’re the most perfect fucking words I’ve ever fucking heard.
We wrap our arms around each other and the sensual kissing begins.
We’re hungry and desperate for each other, and this time it’s different. There’s actual passion and emotion involved as we touch each other.
My hands go up her shirt and I feel her juicy breasts. Every tender moment is magnified by a million and I never want to fucking let her go.
28
Piper
He loves me.
He loves me.
I have to keep repeating it in my head like a mantra. Broken record. The way I used to sit in front of my VCR, rewinding Titanic over and over again to watch the steamy sexy bits.
He loves me.
Zane Tanner, CEO of Tanner Manufacturing, certified asshole, billionaire playboy and the best sex I’ve ever had loves me.
And like, oh shit.
I told him that I love him too.
The way Zane kisses me, squeezing my breasts in his big, firm hands, I know it’s real. He fucking means it. Zane jokes around a lot. When it comes to business, he plays ball. But he doesn’t lie to me. He’s never lied.
The same can’t be said for David—or for the guy before him—or, hell, any other guy I’ve ever dated in my life. I am endlessly attracted to morally bankrupt douche-asses and even though I thought Zane was cut from that exact same douche-ass cloth, I’m finding it harder and harder to believe.
So he fucked some supermodels on my desk. Probably just to get a rise out of me. At least he wasn’t fucking them in my bed. Douche-ass David sure as hell can’t say the same. If a supermodel foursome is the worst that Zane Tanner has got, then fine by me. He can do his worst.
Considering that Zane doing his best means that I get to feel my body wracked by wave after wave of incredible orgasms from his lips, tongue, fingers and cock (not necessarily in that order), I think I finally forgive him the atrocities committed atop my desk.
Because he loves me.
He actually fucking loves me.
Yeah, alright. That might have something to do with it.
When Zane kisses me, he pushes me around. It makes me feel pretty fucking manhandled. Luckily, I like that more than I should.
Zane's getting me into bed with him. One way or another. I remember the way he picked me up and tossed me into it last time. The way the plush pillows cradled my naked body, the coolness of the sheets, Zane's warmth on top of me. We were giggling then. Laughing. Joking around.
But now Zane loves me, and things seem so much more serious than that. This isn't some silly toss-around fuck-about kind of fuck.
If he wasn't being so rough with me, I wouldn't think of it as a fuck at all. But Zane doesn't know how to have sex any way but full-on and all in. Roughness is his weapon of choice. It's something that I've always loved about rolling around naked with him. There's a tenderness there too, though. In the way his body feels against mine. In the energy that wraps around the both of us like a warm blanket on a cold night.
He loves me.
He really loves me.
Fuck.
Zane's arms wrap around me while his tongue slips between my lips, kissing me like I've never been kissed before. He tastes like alcohol, the bitter, heady burn of hard liquor.
He's been drinking. Shit. Is that what this is about? He's gone out and gotten drunk, and now suddenly he loves me and he wants to put a baby in me?
No. That's not it. It can't be. The ghost of a drink might be on Zane's tongue, but he's not drunk. Lovesick confessions from the bottom of a liquor bottle are hardly Zane's thing anyway. Just because I can taste booze on his tongue doesn't mean that this is any less real.
I need to stop overthinking this, but it's like I fucking can't. He loves me. Me! The woman who he's been at odds with in the boardroom for so many years now. The woman who twisted his balls with a fucking contract, demanding him to give her a baby. Knowing what I know now, that must have seemed like the ultimate asshole move on my part. Considering the shit with his dad. Considering the way that must have fucked him up when it comes to having a kid of his own.
Maybe that's why he was such a dick when I called him to tell him I wasn't pregnant. I don't know. Maybe that's just the way Zane is.
But he loves me.
He loves me, he's sorry, and he's here now to make it all better.
By filling me up with his hard, gorgeous cock, fucking me senseless and knocking me up.
I know how much baby batter Zane has to offer, and the fact that he loves me makes it all the sweeter.
He loves me. He wants me. And all that baby batter? It's fucking mine.
He lays me down on the bed, with an intense energy. There's love in the way he does it, careful to cradle my head and put me down gently. But there's that roughness, too. The way he holds me down when he's got me where he wants me, nested among a dozen cloud-soft decorative pillows atop a down comforter so dense that even when you're awake, it feels like a dream.
"Stop fucking thinking, Piper." He breaks our kiss to stare down at me with the most intense look I've ever seen in his hazelnut eyes.
"I'm…I'm not," I say, more breathless than I realized.
"Yes, you fucking are. I can fucking hear the wheels in that clever little head of yours turning. You're not allowed to worry about anything. Not right now."
"I…I'm not," I lie again. Because yeah, that worked so well the first time.
I'm not a good liar. It never seemed like a good skill to develop until now. And I can tell from the way that Zane looks at me as he tears off his tie and rips off his shirt that he can see right through me. Like trying to hide behind curtains made of lace.
"You need to turn off, Piper," he growls, low and threatening.
He tosses the shirt and tie across the room. They hit the wall harder than I thought mere cloth could.
"I thought the whole point of this was to turn me on," I say with a small laugh.
Ha. Ha. Very funny, Piper. Great joke. Cue rimshot.
Zane moves towards me, unbuckling his belt.
"I think you're already turned on."
Okay, well, that's true. How could I be anything but turned on when Zane Tanner is in my room with an “I love you” and no shirt on?
But how
could he possibly know that?
Like he can read my fucking mind, Zane loses his pants and forces my legs open with one hand. I resist a little at first, but fuck. I don't want to. Why am I fighting him? Why can't I just give in.
"You're wet," Zane accuses, and then his fingers probe beneath my panties as if to prove it. "Oh, Piper. You're so fucking wet for me."
My hips betray me in the way they rock up to try and grind my clit against his hand before he withdraws it.
He raises his fingers to my lips and I can smell myself on them. It's the most crazy, insanely good smell in the entire world. Different than usual, and all the better for it.
"Your body wants me," Zane says.
Yeah, no fucking duh.
"You want me," he continues.
And yeah, that's true as well. I fucking must.
"If you don't stop looking so nervous, I'm going to have to make you remember how good this is."
I bite my lip, looking more nervous than ever.
Zane pounces on my pussy like this is some kind of nature documentary. He's the noble panther, hunting in the jungle, and I'm his favorite kind of prey.
His mouth finds my cunt, slipping with ease between my hot, silky pussylips, and he starts feasting on me like I'm a fresh kill.
I'm still reeling from what just happened. These last few weeks have been a rollercoaster in more ways than one. It's not just Zane. Deciding to have a baby with half his DNA. Learning that he's so much more than the playboy billionaire that he has always pretended to be. That maybe he thinks he needs to be.
There's also crazy David and his crazy bullshit.
The massive let-down from learning that Zane hadn't knocked me up yet.
A billion and one other things so boring that even I don't want to think about them. Being the CEO of a major corporation was never going to be an easy job. Tack on all the other little stresses of life to my job description and you have a perfect recipe for how to become the uptight cunt I was when Zane first decided that he wanted to fuck me.
Dishes.
Traffic.
Life is stress, and I know it just as well as anyone.
But as Zane's hot tongue snakes up and down the length of my slit, lingering at my clit for just long enough to make me writhe and whimper and moan, it's like all of that melts away.
