Aaron would have gone on, pretending not to hear, but Virginia stopped to greet Rye, looking uncomfortable in a tuxedo, and his wife, a diminutive curly-haired brunette. “Rye, how are you? Tammy, what a lovely party. You really did a wonderful job.”
“What are you skipping out so early for, then?” Rye asked, fiddling with his wayward glasses and staring in confusion at Aaron’s arm possessively at Virginia’s elbow. “Where’s Julie?”
Aaron flashed Rye a killer look and dropped his hand from Virginia’s elbow. “She had to leave…and we were just going.”
Virginia, in her expansive, wine-induced mood, beamed at Rye and his wife, enthusiastically complimenting Tammy on the decor, the music, even her flowered dress. Aaron hovered behind her, interjecting a casual “we really should be going” once or twice as Virginia continued to chat with Tammy.
“This isn’t really your style, is it, Aaron?” Rye spoke to him quietly enough so that Virginia and Tammy could not hear them over the background music and their own animated small talk.
“What do you mean?” Aaron didn’t want to drag himself away from his efforts to extract Virginia from her inopportune interest in socializing, but he was intrigued by the lawyer’s comment.
“We both know you cut a few corners in the business world, never crossing the line, just dancing damn close. But in your personal life, I always took you for a straight shooter. No little tricks, like promising a girl a ring someday…or getting her drunk.”
“Don’t push it, Rye.”
But he did.
“Look at her. She’s obviously bombed out of her mind. She wouldn’t even know what she’s doing.”
Aaron felt a rush of indignant anger at the accusation. “She’ll know what she’s doing, believe me. You stay out of this.”
“I’ve heard she doesn’t drink much. It must be that she can’t handle it,” Rye continued, but Aaron had already turned away and forcefully took Virginia’s hand to lead her away.
“Great party. See you later,” he murmured to Rye and Tammy behind them and then they were out into the crisp, cool autumn air.
* * * * *
Brendan Beckett hadn’t peeked underneath bathroom stalls since he was in prep school, but Linda had promised him it’d be worth his while. Stall after stall showed no heels on the marble floors. The room was empty. He walked back to the door and smiled, pushing it open to let Linda glide in. “Coast is clear.”
Giving one last furtive look down the thankfully deserted hallway, he followed the willowy brunette down to the last stall in the bathroom, the biggest, designed for handicap access, though Linda’s sweet smile over her shoulder as she ducked in ensured she planned to put it to better use.
This was their first date, but the New York social life of twenty-somethings being what it was, he had fully expected to get laid tonight.
Just not quite so soon.
Following her in, he locked the stall door behind him, grateful to find that there was plenty of room to maneuver. Moreover, his date had already untied the black silk halter top of her dress and was half naked.
Excellent. He’d have to make this quick, seeing as how he for one didn’t particularly get off on the risk of being discovered in flagrante, at a charity ball at which his whole family was in attendance no less.
His date, on the other hand…
“I like it a little kinky.” She’d leaned over and whispered in his ear at the table, making him stone-hard. Her hand had dropped in his lap for good measure and cupped his balls. “Let’s go find someplace. You’ll like it. I promise.”
Not doubting her for a second, he’d found someplace.
He loosened his tuxedo tie and smiled as he checked her out. Very nice. For all that she was a model, which ensured she hadn’t an ounce of excess poundage on her tall frame, he was pleased to note that as he had suspected, she had quite nice tits. Not full and heavy like Winston’s investment-banker babe, although that would have been quite enjoyable as well, but small and high like firm little apples. He took one in his hand, squeezing. Real too.
The pearls she wore hung in a long rope against her now-naked chest down to her waist and he gathered a handful and ran them softly over first one small coral nipple and then the other. Reaching down, intending to pull her long skirt up, she beat him to it, wriggling out of the clingy material, pushing it down her hips and stepping out of it. His hands of their own accord shifted from the pearls and high little tits down to the silk of her crotchless panties.
He laughed. “How convenient.”
With her fashion-runway height and her four-inch spiked heels, Linda was as tall as his usually-much-taller-than-a-woman height of six-foot-four. They would be the perfect match for fucking against the wall. His hands went to his trousers, feeling the pleasant heaviness of an erection about to be satisfied, but she crossed her arms and held them up over her head, indicating he still had something to do.
“Oh yeah,” he said, whipping his tie off and winding the black material around her wrists.
“I like to be tied up.”
“Yeah, I think you mentioned that.” Although he usually preferred to feel a woman’s hands on him when he fucked her, he was nothing if not solicitous and if she liked to be tied up, well, she liked to be tied up. He pulled the tie into a knot and smiled at the thought that she had described this as kinky. Not much into that kind of thing himself, he had seen his fair share of it in his attempts to be solicitous to the female sex, especially those members of it who he happened to be fucking at the time, and this was pretty tame as far as he could see.
“Tighter,” she whispered.
“Whatever you want, baby,” he assured her, complying and then pressing her tied wrists high above her head so that her compact tits bounced even higher.
With her hands out of commission, he freed his own cock, ready to get down to business, but the sight of those shimmering pearls dangling down her bare chest gave him an inspiration. Glancing down at neatly clipped bush visibly wet from her excitement—he supposed she really did like to be tied up—he reached two fingers down just to make sure. Thrusting them up her slick pussy for a moment, he was surprised at how tight a fit it was, especially given her obvious experience. She moaned as he withdrew his fingers.
“We need to loosen you up,” he murmured, lifting the string of pearls over her head and off, and running them down her sleek body until he reached the not-there crotch of her panties. He thrust a handful of the pearls up her pussy quickly and she arched in surprise.
“Those are on loan,” she moaned, her eyes closed and head flung back.
With one hand still anchored against her tied wrists, holding them up, he fed more of the pearls into her wetness, pushing the walls of her cunt out with the slick baubles. “I’ll lick them off before you return them,” he promised, taking her mouth for the first time. She kissed sweetly, tasting of the wine she’d drunk, and he wished they had more time. But the throbbing of his hot cock against her thigh, and the cold of the marble where he held her hands up, reminded him this was not the time or the place for extended foreplay.
He pulled the pearls out slowly, almost one by one, as she writhed and then draped the strand around her neck again. Taking his cock in hand, he lightly kissed her collarbone, smiling. “Now I can smell your sweet pussy while I fuck it,” he observed, letting go of her tied hands only long enough to fumble in his inside jacket pocket for a condom. Fisting his cock, he suited up and aimed it toward her, one hand going back to those tied wrists, the other around his erection, appropriately protected now.
Registering her heat, he fed his cock in easily, the pearls indeed having loosened her up, but she was still snug enough for him to groan as he buried himself to the hilt and began to move.
“My friend told me you had a nice big cock,” she whispered. “I’m glad to see she wasn’t exaggerating for once.”
He paused, raised his head and chuckled. “Gee, thanks.”
Nothing like that kind of com
ment to spur a guy on. He went back to it, pushing her legs farther apart, so that she lifted one to give him wider access and rested her stiletto heel on the water tank of the toilet.
“Oh yeah,” she breathed as he thrust in and out, her hips following his lead. “Fuck me with your nice big cock.”
A little unimaginative, but he appreciated the sentiment anyway, not pausing this time.
“I have a butt plug in,” she moaned, which he had to admit was more imaginative, although he assumed she wasn’t imagining it. Groping around to her taut cheeks, he felt the little knob between them, jiggling it a touch and engendering another moan from his date. Well, now that was a new one on him. Usually he was a little more clued-in if that kind of toy was involved in his screw. A woman didn’t usually—well, never had—just announce it like that, having taken care of the accessory all by herself.
Still fucking, he wasn’t quite sure what she intended to have him do with this information. “So you do,” he breathed. “That is sort of kinky,” he added, in case she wanted his approval on that score and also because he really did think it was a little kinky.
“I put it in before, just in case, because usually rich guys have such small cocks,” she murmured.
Forget about tying her hands up. He wondered how she felt about a gag. In the absence of one, he went back to kissing her lips, sucking her tongue to keep it from wagging.
Obviously, he wasn’t doing enough to keep her concentration on the main event. He thrust harder with his cock and dug the fingers of the hand that wasn’t on her wrists into her hair, giving a swift tug at the roots. She squealed, presumably in appreciation since the walls of her pussy tightened even further around him. With her other hole filled as well, undoubtedly she was doubly stimulated. Well, fine with him.
They were almost there…
He made the mistake of lifting his head, in preparation for feeling that sharp spark of pleasure run down his spine, his balls tingling.
“I hear that Aaron Winston has a big thick cock too.”
That stopped him dead. He looked down at her flushed face. “Do you mind?”
Her eyes fluttered open, big and brown, with long expertly coated lashes. “What?”
He took the momentary opportunity of her silence to pound his cock one last time into her pussy, so hard that he undoubtedly wedged her butt plug in as far as it would go and blessedly felt himself shoot his load, noting absently that she groaned loud enough for him to safely assume she came as well.
Panting, he pulled out of her, peeling the condom off his softening dick and then reclaiming his tie. He kissed the tip of her nose as he untied the knot and brought one wrist to his lips, kissing the pounding pulse there lightly.
He gestured toward her backside as she slithered back into her dress, wondering if he should offer to slip the plug out. It couldn’t be that comfortable. But hell, she’d slipped it in. He’d leave it to her. Anyway, he wasn’t planning to have them hang around at this ball a second later than they had to.
Fuck, he was going to get her back to his apartment as soon as he could so he could give her his full attention. None of this quickie crap. Damned if she’d be thinking about Aaron Winston while she was fucking Brendan Beckett, for Christ’s sake.
But just in case, he’d bring the tie.
* * * * *
He watched the arrogant young whelp and his whore leave the lavish rest room of the museum, the less-populated facility on the bottom floor. No mystery what those two had been doing.
Waiting a minute or two more to ensure his meeting place would be empty, he slipped in. The dark reflection beside him in the mirror a second later startled him.
“Were you in here all the time?” he asked the waiter, who was suddenly washing hands next to him at the sink.
The man nodded. “I was crouching on the toilet, waiting for you, when that couple came in. Not much I could do but wait them out. They were quick about it, though.”
“Fine. Whatever. No play by play required, thank you. They didn’t see you?”
“No.”
“Fine, fine. So did you put it into her drink?”
“Yes. I did.”
“Excellent.” He slipped the waiter ten one hundred-dollar bills. After he had dried his hands, of course.
“Nice doing business with you.”
Then the waiter was gone. He looked into the mirror with satisfaction. That’s how it should always go. Not this whining and questioning all the time, wondering why he was doing something or not doing something. It was really annoying.
Maybe he should hire this waiter for all his work and get rid of that annoying investment banker. He didn’t even mind someone like the waiter seeing his face. The servant class was of a different breed. As long as they were paid, they wouldn’t turn on their masters.
Not like an investment banker.
He’d give it some thought. In the meantime, he’d just lie back and see the results of honest to goodness pharmacology at work.
They called it liquid ecstasy, didn’t they?
* * * * *
Virginia took a deep breath, running her free hand through her long hair, her other hand firmly imprisoned in the purposeful grip of Aaron Winston. He led her to his waiting limousine and gave the driver—Ralph again she assumed—an address through the intercom. It sounded very familiar to her, but in her carefree mood she could not place it. Oh, well, it didn’t matter. Winston could take her wherever he wanted. It was like deja vu sitting with him in the confines of the luxurious limousine again (was this the same one they were in the other night or did he have a whole fleet?), but it felt very different to her now. And it wasn’t just because of the bump she could still feel on her head beneath her hair.
She stretched back against the smooth leather, vaguely conscious of the twinkling lights of the Manhattan streets whizzing by them, and smiled at Aaron. She felt so free of inhibitions. How could she have possibly pushed this incredibly handsome man away from her the other night? All she wanted now was to be close to him again. She reached up to trail her fingertips along his granite cheekbone, but he caught her hand, stopping her.
His low voice teased her as he pressed his lips to her fingertips, sending shivers down her spine, “Don’t start that here now. It would be too much like before,” he said, “and I’m superstitious. I want you all to myself behind a locked door and not in the middle of Manhattan traffic where something could stop us.” He might have said “someone” since Virginia was the one who stopped them the other night, but he did not. “Besides, I’m not so confident in Ralph’s driving skills anymore.”
A raucous laugh greeted his lame joke. She was wonderfully, magically compliant with him now, no talk of stock or angry accusations. Rye’s condemning insinuations about Virginia being drunk briefly intruded on Aaron’s sense of anticipation, but he put them out of his mind. Rye Kinsey was insane if he thought Aaron would pass up this opportunity with Virginia just because she’d had a couple of glasses of wine.
He no sooner had the thought than he realized she was climbing on to the floor of the limousine, wedging herself between his legs, facing him, one hand on each knee. His cock, which had been half hard on and off since he’d first seen her tonight, ratcheted up to full strength as the implications of her position sunk in. But it was a risky move given their track record.
For car accidents, that is, not foreplay. She laid her head for a second on his lap, docile, and then dropped a kiss in the general vicinity of his belly button.
Christ…
She leaned down then, long curls spilling over his lap, and rained light kisses on the seriously overstrained crotch of his tuxedo trousers. He took it for a minute, his breath catching even as he was bemused to find himself so turned on by this tame display. But after a minute, he put his hands on her shoulders to hold her back.
She giggled, looking up at him.
“What are you doing, Virginia?” His voice sounded tense to his own ears, but she apparently di
d not register it.
“I’m giving you a blow job.”
He declined to point out that the zipper needed to be down for that.
“You don’t need to do that. Let’s wait, okay, honey? We’ll be there soon.”
“I know I don’t have to. I never have.”
His mouth dropped open. He couldn’t help it.
He looked at her lips, dark red for the occasion. Never had?
His cock thrust enthusiastically toward her, volunteering. Me first! Me first!
“Never?” he asked weakly as she reached forward and applied herself to his zipper, slipping it down slowly.
“Never,” she whispered. “But I want to. Now.” She peeled the fabric of his trousers back.
He hesitated only for a second. Who was he to argue?
His head fell helplessly back on the headrest and he closed his eyes for a minute, feeling the first touch of her soft, warm hands at the base of his stomach, shoving his boxers out of the way and then stroking his hot, bare cock two-handed. He shuddered as she petted him. “Oh, this is bigger than, er, than I’ve ever seen.”
The corner of his mouth went up.
“Look at how hard it is, all the veins and the—”
“I don’t have to look,” he choked out as he felt her soft breath on the head of his cock. She touched her lips hesitantly to him and his cock jerked in her hands.
“Oh,” she laughed, and then licked the head with short eager little flicks of her tongue up and down the throbbing base. All the while her fingers hovered over him, as if not wanting to impede on the novel action of her tongue.
“It tastes salty,” she murmured.
His fingers came to her hair, thrusting in the soft silky strands, as she teased him. She kissed the underside of his cock, slicking it up and down with her warm, wet mouth until finally her fingers joined in, running lightly along the stalk, tracing the veins, circling the base with her forefinger and thumb.
Executive Perks Page 7
