Pick Up

by Lucy Wild

“I suppose I am,” I replied, forcing a frown onto my face. “Don’t think it means you can start walking over me.”

  “It’s that woman, isn’t it?”

  No one else could get away with asking a question like that but I didn’t mind it coming from the nearest thing I had to a confidant at work. “It might be,” I said as we walked across the floor to the lift. “What do you know about her?”

  “That she thinks the world of you.”

  That sentence remained with me long after I caught up with Jen. She thought the world of me, he’d said, and I guessed he was right.

  In the days following, Jen ended up at my place more and more often.

  This morning was the second time I’d woken to the smell of her cooking. It reminded me of being little.

  We didn’t have much growing up but once a week, no matter what, my mother would get hold of some bacon. The smell always took me back.

  I sometimes reflected on how much things had changed. I used to think that if I had money, everything would be all right. I’d be able to buy Mum a house, stop the awful knocks on the door that always sent her into a panic. That was the kicker that kept me going when I was exhausted, working every hour I could to get the business off the ground, knowing that it would mean security for the family.

  Those days were long gone but until I met Jen, I hadn’t realised something important. I hadn’t realised that I’d replaced one stress with another.

  I had wanted to have money to look after those around me but in order to get money, I had to let them slip away from me, ignore their calls, reject the invitations to weddings and christenings and even birthday parties. I was just too busy.

  They stayed in touch, but I didn’t get invited to things anymore. I hadn’t minded for a long time, I was too busy working to care about anything, I was in the rhythm of running my empire, telling myself that soon I’d slow down, get back in touch with them, reconnect and all would be well. It just never seemed to happen.

  Then Jen came along and I started to think. Maybe it wasn’t boredom I’d been feeling, maybe it was fear of being alone, of cutting so many ties that I had no one left, no true friends or family. They all saw me as the cold hard business bastard, an image that had worked in my favour in every merger and acquisition meeting. But there was more to me than a suit and a few billion in the bank. I had come to realise I wanted something more, something that no amount of money could buy. A connection with someone, someone real who wasn’t just after my money.

  That was Jen. I hadn’t known I’d wanted her until she came along and I did want her. My house was lit up when she was there, drab without her. All in a few short days.

  I walked downstairs, making a mental note to ring my mother, to see if she wanted to meet up sometime. Then I saw Jen placing a plate on the table. She smiled when she saw me, returning to the coffee machine, her ass peeking out from under my shirt.

  I marched over and squeezed her rear, nuzzling myself into the back of her neck. “Good morning,” she said, letting out a sigh as my lips grazed her ear. “Sleep well?”

  “All the better for having you here.”

  It was sickening really but it was true. I was glad of her company, more than I could put into words.

  “You softie,” she said as she twisted in place. “Coffee?”

  “I’d rather have you.”

  I couldn’t help it, she brought out the animal in me just with a look from those big round eyes of hers. And that ass, it looked so damn spankable.

  I pressed my lips to hers, feeling the warmth of her skin against me, making me ache for her. We’d fucked twice last night before falling asleep in each other’s arms but I was hungry for more. I was hungry for her.

  She pointed at my seat and I did as I was told while she brought the coffee over. “I was thinking of taking the day off,” I said nonchalantly. “Want to join me?”

  “I would,” she replied with a smile. “But my boss wouldn’t be too happy.”

  “Fuck him.”

  “I do.”

  She giggled as we started to eat. I kept glancing up at her, marvelling at just how sexy she looked. She’d not touched her hair or her make up but she still managed to look incredible.

  “What?” she asked, seeing me staring at her. “What is it?”

  “I’m just thinking how lucky I am.”

  “That’s funny, I was thinking the same thing.”

  “Although my coffee wasn’t as hot as it should be.”

  “Oh no,” she said playfully, getting to her feet. “Am I in trouble?”

  “Afraid so,” I said, following her to the counter top. She leaned over it, the shirt sliding up her hips as I raised my hand ready.

  I was the luckiest man in the world, getting to spank her whenever I wanted to, getting to turn her ass red while she shrieked with delight, making me so hard it hurt.

  I slapped my palm down onto her buttocks, loving the echoing smack reverberating around the room as she glanced back over her shoulder.

  “Harder,” she growled. “Do it to me.”

  I smacked her ass again but I couldn’t wait any longer, fiddling with my fly to get my cock out into the air.

  With her expecting another spank, the feel of my rough fingers on her pussy made her moan in anguished surprise.

  I smeared her wetness around, delving into her to make sure she was ready before plunging myself straight in, grabbing her hips to drive all the way home without a moment’s pause.

  She groaned. “I’ll never get used to how big you are.”

  I smiled, she could never say that too often. It did my ego the world of good.

  Pulling back, I slammed home again, then I slowed, taking my time, grinding against her while she began to rock back onto me, using my length to bring herself pleasure. I looked down, not tiring of the sight of my cock vanishing into her soaking pussy as she brought herself to a climax that made my ears ring, her screams were that loud.

  I could feel her muscles contracting around me and I looked at her ass, knowing I had to take it.

  She seemed to know because when I used her juices to lubricate her tiny pink hole, she just stayed still, not moving a muscle, sighing slightly as I nudged the tip of my finger into her ass, my cock still buried in her pussy.

  Pulling out of her, I took hold of my shaft and brushed it up between her buttocks. “I’m going to take your ass,” I said. “Are you ready?”

  “Be gentle,” she said, her voice quivering, making my cock twitch.

  I’d be gentle, at first. But I knew her, I knew once I was in, she’d fuck as hard as me, that she was as dirty as I was.

  I lifted myself up a little, the tip of my cock pressing towards her ass. At first, nothing gave. “Relax it,” I commanded. “Don’t clench.”

  I tried again and this time, I was able to push hard enough to get an inch into her. She groaned, sounding as if she might be in pain. I paused, waiting to see how she reacted but she got impatient just as I knew she would. “Get in my ass,” she said, pushing back slowly.

  I stayed still, revelling in the tightness as she drew me in. It took a while but eventually I was all the way in her ass and more turned on than I’d ever been, she gripped me so firmly.

  I started to rock in place, loving the feel of being in her, how taboo it felt with someone so innocent.

  “How does that feel?” I asked, burying myself all the way inside.

  “So full,” she said. “You’re so big.”

  “It’s all for you,” I replied, gliding back and forth, gradually picking up speed.

  “Oh fuck,” she muttered, reaching under herself, finding her clit and stroking it frantically.

  I could tell when she was close, the clenching of her muscles making it harder to keep up the frenetic pace I wanted. I slammed home again and again until she let out a cry of joy. “I’m coming!” she screamed and the sound of her sweet voice saying that tipped me over the edge. I drove home a last time and then grunted as I came, spu
rting into her ass, filling her up in that hole for the first time.

  I panted heavily, waiting until my breath had recovered before sliding out of her. She stayed bent over, giving me a perfect view of her ass. I drank in the sight for sometime before finally taking her by the hand and drawing her to me, wrapping my arms around me. “Your boss insists you take the day off,” I said before kissing her. “And that you let him take you back to bed right this instant.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she replied, her voice weak, her cheeks flushed. She still looked dazed by the time we climbed back into bed, me unable to believe I’d been so lucky, not knowing that all my happiness would come crashing down around my ears just twenty-four hours later.

  TEN - WILL

  IT WAS MY OWN MISTAKE that caused it. I had got so wrapped up in her, I’d ignored the much bigger problem. I still needed to do something about Lionel, about the bet that was about to come back to haunt me.

  But I didn’t do anything about it. I swept it under the rug, too busy drinking in Jen to give it more than a moment of thought. If I had, I might have been more prepared to find Lionel waiting to meet me at my office the next morning.

  I gave Jen a lift in, though we separated a quarter of a mile from the office, her idea, not mine. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself.

  “Would anyone even notice?” I asked.

  She just smiled and said, “You don’t think me turning up to work in the C.E.O’s Ferrari might turn a few heads?”

  She had a point. I could handle people talking, it didn’t bother me but she was a different creature altogether, that was one of the reasons why I liked her so much, that and that sweet ass of hers.

  I got upstairs to find Robert already there and Lionel sat in the armchair opposite, clearly waiting for me. “Good to see you,” he said, getting to his feet. “I thought you might have died.”

  “Oh?” I managed, already knowing where this was going.

  “You don’t call, you don’t write. You weren’t at the club last night. Rumour is, something’s going on in your life. Care to share?”

  “Not really,” I replied, swiping my card to unlock the door to my office. He followed me in. I didn’t want to let him rile me. The bet that had seemed worthwhile a few days ago seemed small and petty to me by that point. “Won’t you sit down?”

  He sat in the chair opposite my desk, putting his feet up on the corner, already looking around for a pen to steal. Why was I even friends with the man?

  “So?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “So what?”

  “So I seem to recall we had a wager. Today’s the day to pay the piper, for one of us anyway.”

  “Just get to the point, Lionel.”

  “Did you fuck her?”

  “Who?”

  “The Goddamned Queen of England, who do you think?”

  “You mean the I.T geek?”

  “Of course I mean her. Did you do it?”

  I shook my head. “Afraid not, it didn’t happen.”

  I wasn’t going to tell him the truth, that she’d had my cock in her mouth just an hour before. That was between us.

  “So you admit you lost then?”

  I nodded without saying anything, watching as his grin remained fixed on his face.

  “So why weren’t you at the club then? We’re all dying to hear all the juicy details”

  “I had something on.”

  “Like what?”

  “Since when did I have to explain myself to you?”

  “All right, Mr Touchy, I was only asking.”

  I clenched my fists out of sight under the desk, keeping my face as calm as I could manage. “I guess you’ll want paying then.”

  “Could do.” He paused, yawning theatrically before brushing an imaginary piece of dirt from his knee. “Or you could admit the truth.”

  “Truth? What truth?”

  “That you’re not only fucking the council estate geek, you’re inviting her round for high tea.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about Jen Murphy, Will. I’m talking about the fact that people talk, especially when there’s plenty of money to make them talk.”

  “What people?”

  “Never mind that. Just I heard a little birdie say that Jen has slept at your house for three of the last five nights, you dog, you!” His grin broadened and I had to resist smacking it off his face.

  “If you know, why’d you bother to ask?”

  “At least you’re not denying it. I wondered if you’d maybe set up a Scrabble tournament at yours. Maybe I could pop by and play sometime?”

  The way he said the word play made my nails dig into my palms. None of it showed on my face, I kept visibly calm even as the need to throw him out the window began to grow. She was mine. I possessed her. I worshipped her. I wouldn’t let this creep anywhere near her, not now, not ever.

  “Here,” I said, writing out the cheque and tossing it across the desk. “You win, all right? Now get the fuck out of here.”

  “Pleasure doing business with you,” he said, picking up the cheque and biting it like it was a coin. “Seems genuine enough, unlike you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Why lie about things, Will? Why not just admit you boinked a dork? All power to you for doing it. I found a woman in the I.T department, bound to be a dog, you got her into bed anyway just to win a bet, kudos all round to you from the group. Yet then you pretend you didn’t do it? I’ll be honest, I don’t get it.”

  He never would. Even if I spent an hour explaining, he’d never understand. I didn’t bother trying. “I’ve a lot of shit to do,” I said, waving towards the door. “If you wouldn’t mind?”

  “I know you’ve got shit to do,” he said as he got to his feet, crossing over to the door before looking back. “But I’m sure she’ll get better at it.”

  Then he was gone and luckily too because a second later I hurled a paperweight across the room. It shattered against the door, shards of glass and bouncing back before sinking into the carpet.

  I was furious beyond belief. The way he’d talked. Did I used to talk like that? That was what made me angrier than anything else was the thought that I might ever have been like him, might ever have thought that was normal.

  He would never have what me and Jen had. The only problem was, if he knew about it, that meant the rest of them would know soon. I could only hope it didn’t filter through to Jen. There was a slight chance I might still be able to sweep this problem under the rug.

  I sat there with my head in my hands, thinking hard. What would she do if she found out? She’d hate me, that was a given. She’d never want to see me again, maybe threaten me with a harassment lawsuit if I even spoke to her afterwards. The thought made my stomach churn. To imagine never seeing her again, I didn’t think I could cope with the idea.

  I was a bad guy. I should never have involved her in the bet. As soon as I saw her I should have run a mile in the other direction. I’d let my lust rule my head and now I had dragged her into something wrong. Someone as pure as her should never have to know about sordid little bets between immature men like us. She deserved better.

  I’d known all of that and I’d ignored it. I was a bad guy. But I realised one thing, one truth that I would never forget, one fact that powered over all the others. No matter what was about to happen, I was not going to give up on her, on us. I was going to do everything I could to make it work. Let Lionel do his worst, I’d be ready. I’d taken on Japanese businesses and had them bowing out before breakfast, I’d stamped on the stock market and wrung it dry, I’d defeated hundreds of bigger and older companies, I could handle one man.

  My hands were shaking when I got up from my desk. Despite my certainty that I could fix this, I felt more nervous than I had in a very long time.

  ELEVEN - JEN

  IT WAS A PHONE CALL from a number I didn’t recognise. That was never a good sign.

 
“Hello?” I asked, wondering if maybe Will had picked up a new mobile. He owned about six and I could never keep track of them all. “Why not just have one like a normal person?” I had tried asking him.

  “Because I don’t get a normal number of calls,” he had replied with a shrug before kissing me and making me forget everything including who I was.

  Being kissed by him was like being bowled over by a hurricane. I’d be flat on my back in seconds whether I wanted to be or not. He had the most passionate touch. And the way he used his body, the merest thought of it was enough to have me grinning.

  I was sat at my desk when the phone rang. The display showed a mobile number and I frowned as I went to pick it up.

  I’d been so happy, I wouldn’t even have minded if it was a double glazing salesman, as long as they were willing to listen to me talking about how amazing my new man was.

  My man. He was my man. Was I premature in thinking that way? He’d told me just last night that he thought he might be falling for me, that I’d bewitched him to use his words. I didn’t know how, I was just stood in front of the stove, in full 1950s housewife mode, making him dinner.

  “I have staff to do that,” he’d said the first time he saw me cooking.

  “And I want to do it,” I had replied.

  It was true. I liked cooking for him. I liked looking after him. I got the feeling if he had his way he’d eat takeaways and fast food every night of the week. I’d seen the emptiness of his fridge. He had a personal chef who I never saw. “He mainly goes to the drive through for me,” he had explained.

  “What kind of billionaire are you?” I asked in response. “I thought you’d be eating swans in lobster or dodo egg omelette or something like that.”

  “I’m the kind of billionaire who likes doing this,” he said, undoing the buttons on my blouse.

  Thoughts like that were why I was grinning as I picked up the phone that morning. “Hello?”

  “Hi, is that Jen Murphy, I.T extraordinaire?”

  “This is Jen. Who is this?”

  “I was just wondering if you’d banged the C.E.O?”

  “Sorry, excuse me, who the hell is this?”