He sighed, reaching for his socks and shoes. Getting up, I handed him his belt. He looked almost mournful. You would have thought I told him that he couldn’t have ice cream after dinner tonight. As long as he wasn’t angry. He had a hair-trigger temper which years in the military hadn’t ironed out of him and there were going to be cameras at the event. Any faux pas would be immortalized for everyone to refer back to in the future and use against him. He was dressed and I had mostly managed to convince him that his presence was required at the auction so finally, my work tonight was done. I swear, he wasn’t paying me enough. When I looked at him, he was fighting with his belt.
“What are you doing?”
“Something’s wrong with the belt.” It was a python skin Ferragamo; there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. He fiddled with it, yanking a little too hard for my liking.
“What is it?”
“It’s the whole thing, the pants too. They don’t feel good right here,” he said, motioning to his crotch.
“Let me see,” I said, taking over with the belt. I peered up at his face. His jaw was tense and his head was tipped back. Oh no, his mood was worsening by the second. It didn’t matter that he didn’t like this part of his work, it was essential. If he didn’t do this, his company wouldn’t be one that people talked about in the present tense anymore.
This was his coming out, so to speak. His debut and he had to make an impression. A Giorgio Armani suit would do that, but it wouldn’t matter if he was sulking and sullen the whole time. I pictured him flying off the handle, speaking out of turn to one of the people who had the potential to elevate his company. I needed to do something. I dropped down into a squat and unbuckled the belt, unlatching his trousers and pulling down his fly.
He looked down at me.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I pulled his underwear down low enough to reveal his cock. Like the rest of him, it was perfect. I knew that American guys tended to be circumcised but it had still surprised me when I saw it the first time. Granted, I got over the shock quickly because there were other things, I liked to do with men’s members besides look at them.
I pumped him at the root and fed the head into my mouth. Unprofessional? Yes. Scandalous? Completely. If anyone asked, I would deny until my dying breath that I had ever had sex with a client, much less during what were technically my working hours. If anyone found out, it would be a scandal, but the man was spiraling fast. His nerves were going to be his ruin unless I did something about it. It was my job to make sure he always presented his best self. Well, this was the best way to make sure that he wasn’t tightly wound when he walked the carpet. His cock filled with blood and hardened in my mouth. It was like his ‘off’ switch. One little orgasm and he’d be ready for public consumption. His hand came to my hair and I swatted it away.
“Unlike you, I had to pay someone to do this for me,” I said, patting my locks.
“I do pay you, you know,” he said, laughing. It was working.
“Not for this part. I don’t want people thinking I’m a slag.”
“No, never,” he sighed. I sucked his balls one by one and ran my tongue up his shaft. Was this for his benefit or mine? Ostensibly it was for his, but I wasn’t complaining either.
“Better?” I asked, pausing, and looking up.
“Huh? What?” he asked. I laughed. He sounded almost groggy. That was what I wanted. I needed him nice and pleasant so that all the rich people would like him.
“You should just go down the carpet naked. That would make a splash.” I used my mouth on him again, taking him as deep into my throat as I could without gagging. Thank god we were at his loft alone and there was no risk of anybody finding us. Exhibitionism was exciting, but not when there were actual stakes.
“Did you…” he struggled to get his words out.
“Hm?” I asked with his cock in my mouth. He looked down at me, his face suddenly hardening.
“Fuck it.” He hauled me up roughly and pushed me onto the bed. I tumbled down gracelessly. He came up to me, making quick work of his shirt, stripping it off.
“Don’t you dare throw that on the floor,” I said. He tossed it onto the bed and pulled me towards him by the ankles, doing his trousers next. In one fell swoop, he was on top of me, and then he was inside me. It was like sticking a fork into a socket. A current rushed through me, my muscles quickly relaxed around the new, hard, throbbing presence. I practically melted into the bed. The auction. His suit. He had tossed his shirt on the bed instead of putting it back on the hanger, what if it was wrinkled? What if I had to steam it before the event and he got late?
“Easy,” I said.
“Hm?” he asked, face buried in my neck, one of his hands cupping my breast under my bra. This was so wrong. We were going to be late. He felt so good.
Ah… fuck it.
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The Irresistible Billionaires Series
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Admit You Love Me: A Secret Baby Romance (Irresistible Billionaires Book 2) Page 22
