I laughed. She was trying to get even with me for keeping her waiting. Little did she know I had total control of the situation.
“You cornered me at the bar, begged me to take you home and fuck you and now you want to claim you have an early ‘meeting’ tomorrow? Sorry, baby, it doesn’t wash.”
She stood there biting her lip trying to decide what her next move should be. Fuck it, I didn’t have time for that. I stripped her dress from her body and then
swept her up into my arms. I carried her back into my real bedroom which was illuminated with a roaring fire burning in the stone fireplace. She looked in awe at the huge custom sized bed sitting on a pedestal in the right corner of the room. Deep red colored wall coverings decorated the walls accentuated by dark wood. The bed was a masterpiece with an elegantly hand carved mahogany frame.
Soft music was playing as I laid her down gently on the plush bed.
Her eyes went soft as she gazed up at me.
“Oh, this is perfect.”
“Still need to get up early?”
She shook her head.
Quickly, I laid down next to her kissing her lightly on the neck. She caught me and kissed me deeply. Then I trailed my lips down her body as I adored every inch of her. As I took each toe into my mouth she writhed in ecstasy, moaning and groaning. My cock raged as I spread her legs open to devour her. Over and over I licked her sweet pussy making her scream with delight as she drenched my face. She slammed the bed with her fists each time she came.
Finally, I could wait no longer. I fell on her, my hardness thrusting deep inside her.
I leaned up on my arms. Her eyes met mine as I drove myself into her. Her breasts jiggled as I pounded my cock in and out of her. She ran her hands across my chiseled chest which was with perspiration.
I still wasn’t quite ready to come.
Grabbing her by the waist, I flipped her over pulling her to me as she got on her hands and knees. Her ass was firm and tanned. I slowly eased her pussy back onto my cock slowly as she moaned.
Then with one hand I slapped her ass hard.
“Ow, Ash! That hurt!” she cried. Again, my hand slapped down on her firm ass leaving a brief red handprint.
She screamed again as I continued to slide my cock in and out of her.
“Do you need another one?” I asked as I prepared to spank her ass again.
“Yes,” she moaned leaning forward to bury her face against the plush bedding.
Once again the crack of my hand against her firm flesh echoed throughout the room. She cried out, but this time I could feel her contracting against my cock. She was coming all over me.
Thrusting forward my balls slapped against her pussy. I finally allowed myself release and came hard shooting my cum inside of her.
We both collapsed on the bed breathless, exhausted. Soon, we fell asleep.
The next morning, as is customary whenever I have a lady spend the night, I had a sumptuous breakfast delivered to my door along with a copy of the Wall Street Journal .
After showering and dressing, I was sitting at the table pouring over the stocks. Samantha entered, her long blonde hair shiny and wet from the shower.
“Morning, beautiful. Take a seat. Here’s the coffee. There’s Belgian waffles, scrambled eggs with truffles, and English muffins with blackberry jelly.”
She smiled and took a muffin with her coffee.
“My, my, Mr. Blackthorne, you really do live up to your reputation. A gentleman inside and outside of the bedroom. Although I don’t quite know how I will explain the red handprints on my ass.”
I dropped my fork and looked at her.
“To whom would you need to explain those handprints?”
Finishing her muffin and coffee, she wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin.
“My husband, of course.”
I jumped out of my chair.
“What the hell? You’re married? You’re not even wearing a ring!”
“It’s being reset at the moment. I take it this is a problem for you? I was hoping we could see each other again. All the rumors about you are true. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same after last night.” She winked at me.
I was furious.
“You’re damn right it’s a problem for me! What the hell kind of woman are you, anyway?”
Samantha looked confused as she stood up slowly from the table.
“I thought that…I thought you knew.”
“How would I know? There’s no ring! I would never knowingly fuck another man’s wife!”
Samantha backed away from the table.
“So we can’t see each other anymore?”
I grabbed her purse and threw it out the door into the hallway.
“Get your shit and get out! I don’t ever want to see you again.”
Tears welled up in her eyes as she slipped her shoes on.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was a big deal. I figured you fucked married women all the time.”
I was livid.
“Well, you thought wrong. Now leave!”
With that, she slipped out the door crying.
Turning back to the table, I grabbed the coffee cup and slammed it against the wall. It shattered raining glass onto the hardwood floor.
Fuck!
3
T
he huge house
was silent except for the sound of small feet padding up the staircase. A door slowly creaked open. The face of a small boy with his big hazel eyes and mop of dark hair peered around the corner. The boy was young only about seven years old. He crept into the room looking for his mother.
“Mommy?”
The master bathroom door slammed shut as a tall beautiful woman with long dark hair emerged. She pulled a pink silk robe around her tying it tightly.
“Ashton! What’s wrong? I told you to knock whenever Mommy has the door shut.”
He looked down as he shyly crawled up onto the large king size bed.
“I’m sorry, Mommy. When are you going to come down to play with me? You promised we’d play Go Fish after breakfast!”
She flashed a brief smile shooting a nervous glance at the closed bathroom door.
“Did Dora fix you breakfast yet?”
He nodded his mop of hair shaking as he did so. He pulled the covers up over his tiny body.
“Yep. She made me Mickey Mouse pancakes again with chocolate chips.” He grinned ear to ear revealing several missing teeth.
His mother smiled and bent to kiss him on the head.
“Ashton, can you please go on downstairs and let Mommy get dressed? I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Reluctantly, the boy slid off the bed. He hesitated a moment unsure of whether he could trust her.
“Please Mommy? You promised you’d play.”
She rolled her eyes as she inched away from the bed.
“Yes, Ashton, I promise. Give me a few minutes. Go and get the cards and I will be there shortly.”
“But I don’t know where they are.”
“Then ask Dora.”
The little boy shuffled toward the door. He glanced back as he decided to make one more plea.
Suddenly, the bathroom door flew open and a man stood there. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of water clung to his light colored hair.
The little boy’s mouth dropped.
The man was NOT his father.
It was his father’s friend whom he called ‘Uncle Mike’.
But why was Uncle Mike here now when his father was away on business? And why was he taking a shower?
Uncle Mike didn’t see the little boy hovering in the doorway when he grabbed his mother and kissed her deeply reaching his hands around to squeeze her bottom just like he’d seen his father do.
“Mike!” His mother hissed jerking away from him as she gestured toward the little boy.
Mike’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Hi, champ. What’s going on?” Mike tried to cover up his faux pa
s as he walked over to rumple the little boy’s hair.
But the boy pulled away from him scowling.
“Go away!” The little boy screamed as he ran from the room.
“Ashton!” His mother yelled as he raced down the hallway down the staircase out into the yard.
The boy kept running and running until his legs ached. Opening the heavy door to the horse barn, he climbed up the ladder to the hay loft above and fell asleep on the hay.
It was Dora who found him lying curled up atop a blanket in the loft.
As night fell, she brought him back to the house. His face was blotchy and red from crying. His mother was waiting for him in his room holding a gaily wrapped present.
“Ashton! I was worried sick about you! How dare you run off like that?” She hugged him tightly as she tucked him into his bed.
The little boy sat with his face set in stone.
“Here. It’s an early Christmas present. Open it.”
Slowly, the boy ripped the paper off the box. It was an electric train like his father had owned as a child. It was a valuable antique model train, the one he’d always wanted.
“Tell you what, Ashton, how about you keep this now and play with it all you want? Then we won’t tell daddy about Uncle Mike being here today.”
The little boy’s heart sank. She hadn’t given him a present to be nice only to make him keep her secret.
And keeping secrets from the people you love isn’t nice.
At least that’s what he’d been taught.
Now she was telling him it was okay.
His mommy kissed him and left him to play with his new train.
As soon as she left, Ashton dropped the train car he was playing with back into the box and shoved it underneath his bed.
He never played with the train set again.
Stepping out of the elevator, I strolled into my office. Shit, Amber was already at her desk! She could always tell exactly what I’d been doing and after a night like last night I knew I was in for it.
As soon as she spied me walking towards her, a big grin slowly spread across her face. She gave me a knowing wink.
“Well, well, looks like someone’s getting into the office pretty early today. Maybe it was to avoid a certain someone?”
I bit my lip and shook my head.
“Nope, I always get here this early. I’m surprised to see you’re here. Didn’t you have a date with what’s his name?”
“Trevor. But that’s irrelevant. So, who was the lucky lady?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Amber. Now if you have my coffee ready I’ll take it in my office, I have work to do.”
Amber kept grinning as she followed me into my office with my coffee.
“You look tired. Maybe you should take the day off.”
I looked up at her in disbelief.
“Are you kidding? When was the last time I took a day off for anything? I’m fine.”
Amber nodded. She knew I wouldn’t take the bait.
“That’s good to hear, Ash because after what I have to say you may not be feeling so well.” Amber pulled out a copy of the Wall Street Journal .
I took it from and scanned the first page.
“Holy shit! What the hell?” My eyes widened at the company I was planning to buy’s stock price which had plummeted to record lows.
Amber shook her head sadly.
“I don’t know how this is happening. Obviously, someone knew that you wanted Vitalife, but who?”
“Amber, if I knew that person would be in a momentous amount of pain right now. I went to Grayson he claimed he doesn’t know anything.”
“Jeremy wouldn’t try to weasel this one away from you, would he?” Amber asked in a hushed tone.
“He’s not smart enough.” I stood up carrying my cup over to the picture window overlooking downtown Manhattan.
“No, whoever did this is smart. And they know me very well. This was an inside deal.”
I sighed turning to Amber.
“Get Martin Stahli’s secretary on the phone and schedule a lunch meeting for today. I think I may know who’s behind this. If I’m right, your assessment of my day getting worse will unfortunately be accurate.”
Amber nodded as she walked to her desk.
Finishing my coffee, I sat down and sighed.
How the hell could I be facing one of the biggest losses of my career after such a fantastic night like last night?
“Ash, Martin will meet you at 12:30 at Del Frisco’s.”
“Thanks.”
As I prepared for my lunch meeting the door to my office flew open. Jeremy stood there his fists clenched, his face bright red. His chubby face huffed and puffed as he was obviously out of breath from racing down the hall.
“What is it, Jeremy? I’m getting ready to leave.”
He tossed another copy of the Wall Street Journal at me.
“What the fuck, Blackthorne? I thought this was in the bag. This deal is worth half a billion dollars!”
I stood up, buttoning my suit coat.
“Relax, Jeremy. I’ve got an idea of who’s behind this.”
“Who? Who is it? You told me you’d already talked to Grayson. Who the hell else has the kind of money to buy these stocks out from under us?”
“The guy I’m going to have lunch with right now.”
Pulling at his thinning dark hair, Jeremy’s eyes widened.
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“Did I say that?”
“If you were going to tell me you would have by now. So, who is it?”
I shook my head smiling.
“It’s under control. Let me do my job.”
As I went for the door, he stepped in front of me. Jeremy has always irritated going back to our first meeting at Harvard, but since his father took me on as a partner he’d really become a thorn in my side. I thought it was because his father looked at me as the son he’d always wanted and as his successor not Jeremy.
But that wasn’t my problem.
“Jeremy, step aside. I have business to attend to.”
Like a spoiled child, he stood in front of me refusing to move.
“Tell me, Ash.”
“I don’t have to tell you shit. Now move!” My voice rose. I hated to let him see he’d gotten under my skin, but now was not the time for his rivalrous, childish games.
In a sniveling, snide tone, Jeremy leaned against my door.
“Might I remind you, Ash, whose name is first on that door? And whose money you will be losing if you don’t get this deal to go through?”
My fists clenched as I gritted my teeth.
“Look, if you don’t get the fuck out of my way there won’t be a firm come tomorrow. I have to go fix this deal. That’s why your father hired me and not you to be his second in command. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.”
Jeremy scowled as he slowly moved.
“You’re right, my father does know how valuable you are to this firm, but he also knows I’m the one who will go down with the ship if it sinks. You see, it’s our name that’s first on that door and always will be. You can’t live with that. If we lose, you’ll just pick up and move on.”
My rage boiled inside. With a wide swing of my arm, I slammed him against the door.
“Are you fucking questioning my loyalty? I’ve been here since I graduated business school a year before you! I signed an agreement with your father. My name is on that door even if yours is first. And you’re wrong, Jeremy, if I lose this deal I not only lose millions of dollars for this firm I lose my fucking reputation as the biggest, baddest shark in Manhattan. I might as well go be a damn bank teller if I fuck this up. So I have a hell of a lot more to lose than you and your father. Now for the last time, get the fuck out of my way so that I can guarantee the success of this deal!”
Jeremy’s face paled as he scooted out of the way. Helplessly, he stood watching as I walked down the hall.
Amber eyed m
e worriedly as I hopped on the elevator.
Del Frisco’s was as crowded as I expected it would be. Getting a table here is nearly impossible but, they always manage to work me in. It was the place in Manhattan to power lunch. Everyone who was anyone on Wall Street came here.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Blackthorne. Let me show you to your table.” The attractive blonde hostess led me to a corner table. It was where I liked to sit when I was discussing business.
Handing me a leather backed menu, she poured me a glass of Pellegrino.
“How’s business going, Mr. Blackthorne? I’m assuming quite well as usual.”
I winked at her. She was quite pretty though a bit too young for my taste. She couldn’t have been more than twenty. I usually steered clear of women under twenty five. Younger women tended to expect more in terms of commitment than I was willing to give. Career oriented women over thirty tended to be safer. They appreciated a man who could give them what they needed without messy strings attached.
“Business is great. Let Paulo know I’m here please and send him out when my party arrives.” I pressed a hundred dollar bill into her palm.
She nodded and smiled, pleased with the large tip. Paulo was the waiter who took care of me every time I dined at Del Frisco’s.
As I glanced through the menu, a stocky older gentleman in an outdated suit stopped at my table.
“Well Ashton, this better be good. I had another lunch meeting scheduled at Crusoe’s.”
Inwardly I rolled my eyes. No one over the age of sixty ever lunched at Crusoe’s except those who couldn’t get into the better restaurants. I glanced up at Martin who was easily approaching seventy.
No wonder.
“Martin, pleasure to see you. Have a seat. Take a look at the menu. I’m going to go with the filet myself, but the salmon is excellent as well.”
Martin tossed the menu down.
“You know I’m not interested in how good the food is here. You called me down here, so what is it you’re wanting?”
Paulo marched up to the table with a tray holding two glasses and a bottle of Macallan.
Placing the glasses in front of us, he poured them half full. Martin’s eyes drifted down to the liquor briefly before downing the whole glass and motioning for another.
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