business.”
He brushed away the comment with a smooth gesture. “Your readership would be heart broken if I had to get serious about anything, they’d have to find someone new to talk about. Why didn’t you touch yourself this morning?”
Zoey had reached down into her bag to grab her phone and her tablet to record and make notes, but she let her hand fall away from them. She wanted to answer him—she wanted to see where answering him would lead—but everything inside of her was turmoil. Writing the gossip piece would be no big deal, she didn’t even need quotes from him to do it, but the more detailed AEGIS piece she’d been taking notes for this morning? There was no way. If the fact of their dalliance last night ever got out, she could kiss any shot at a real journalistic job good bye. Everyone would assume that she wrote the piece to spin it, whether it came out favorable or not to AEGIS. It was just one story, just one idea, but this morning, it had felt like a lifeline. It had felt like a way out of the hole of a studio in a shitty walk up. “I’m sorry,” she said, keeping her voice as steady as she could manage. Which wasn’t much, all things considered. “This isn’t going to work. Do you have a PR person I can contact for a couple of quotes?”
He reached out, his fingers brushing over her shoulder, and she had the strongest urge ever to twist her head over and bite into his skin. Not enough to hurt, just enough to see what he would do. Would he sweep everything off his desk? Push her up against the wall? Take her on the floor? “Why won’t this work?” He sounded almost sad.
“Because you’re a Wall Street tycoon bad boy, and I’m—” She couldn’t think of anything to say. She shrugged. “Just look at me.”
To her serious frustration, he clearly did, his eyes gliding over her outfit. She could see him taking it all in in fits and starts, his lips pursing here, his eyes narrowing there. “Not bad, overall,” he said, “But you can do better. You did better last night.”
“I don’t get it,” she said. “Last night, you were all casual contact only, now, you want me to tell you about why I didn’t touch myself in the shower?”
He cocked his head slightly to the side. From the way he was leaning, she could see the outline of his dick, lying down along his right leg. She wouldn’t put him at fully hard, but decidedly interested. “Is that so strange? Dirty talk not your thing?”
Zoey stared up at him, at Mr. Alexander Blankenship, who looked so calm and in control. He was still leaning back against the desk, every line of his body carefully placed to maximize his influence and power and ease in the situation. Afterward, she wasn’t sure exactly what possessed her to lean forward and mouth his cock through his suit pants. Maybe just that she wanted to see how he reacted to someone turning the tables on him.
He let out a low groan in response to her hot breath ghosting over him. She loved taunting men like this. She could use her teeth with abandon, go full out erotic eye contact, and generally enjoy herself. “Is this what you want?” she asked, tracing his belt, running her index finger down his fly.
He let out a sound that was raspy and low. “If you’re offering, I’m sure as hell not going to turn you down,” he said. “I’d love to see what you can do with that talented mouth of yours.”
She worked his zipper and belt with quick ease. He wore silk boxer briefs underneath his pants, and where the tip of his cock lay, there was already a spot of creamy wetness. She pulled him free from the top—he was harder than she’d guessed already, and took the tip of him in her mouth. One of his hands clenched hard on the edge of the desk, the other came to her hair. She’d left it down today, and he wound a length of it up in a tail, and around his palm. It was enough that he could direct her head, if he wanted to, and it
He brushed away the comment with a smooth gesture. “Your readership would be heart broken if I had to get serious about anything, they’d have to find someone new to talk about. Why didn’t you touch yourself this morning?”
Zoey had reached down into her bag to grab her phone and her tablet to record and make notes, but she let her hand fall away from them. She wanted to answer him—she wanted to see where answering him would lead—but everything inside of her was turmoil. Writing the gossip piece would be no big deal, she didn’t even need quotes from him to do it, but the more detailed AEGIS piece she’d been taking notes for this morning? There was no way. If the fact of their dalliance last night ever got out, she could kiss any shot at a real journalistic job good bye. Everyone would assume that she wrote the piece to spin it, whether it came out favorable or not to AEGIS. It was just one story, just one idea, but this morning, it had felt like a lifeline. It had felt like a way out of the hole of a studio in a shitty walk up. “I’m sorry,” she said, keeping her voice as steady as she could manage. Which wasn’t much, all things considered. “This isn’t going to work. Do you have a PR person I can contact for a couple of quotes?”
He reached out, his fingers brushing over her shoulder, and she had the strongest urge ever to twist her head over and bite into his skin. Not enough to hurt, just enough to see what he would do. Would he sweep everything off his desk? Push her up against the wall? Take her on the floor? “Why won’t this work?” He sounded almost sad.
“Because you’re a Wall Street tycoon bad boy, and I’m—” She couldn’t think of anything to say. She shrugged. “Just look at me.”
To her serious frustration, he clearly did, his eyes gliding over her outfit. She could see him taking it all in in fits and starts, his lips pursing here, his eyes narrowing there. “Not bad, overall,” he said, “But you can do better. You did better last night.”
“I don’t get it,” she said. “Last night, you were all casual contact only, now, you want me to tell you about why I didn’t touch myself in the shower?”
He cocked his head slightly to the side. From the way he was leaning, she could see the outline of his dick, lying down along his right leg. She wouldn’t put him at fully hard, but decidedly interested. “Is that so strange? Dirty talk not your thing?”
Zoey stared up at him, at Mr. Alexander Blankenship, who looked so calm and in control. He was still leaning back against the desk, every line of his body carefully placed to maximize his influence and power and ease in the situation. Afterward, she wasn’t sure exactly what possessed her to lean forward and mouth his cock through his suit pants. Maybe just that she wanted to see how he reacted to someone turning the tables on him.
He let out a low groan in response to her hot breath ghosting over him. She loved taunting men like this. She could use her teeth with abandon, go full out erotic eye contact, and generally enjoy herself. “Is this what you want?” she asked, tracing his belt, running her index finger down his fly.
He let out a sound that was raspy and low. “If you’re offering, I’m sure as hell not going to turn you down,” he said. “I’d love to see what you can do with that talented mouth of yours.”
She worked his zipper and belt with quick ease. He wore silk boxer briefs underneath his pants, and where the tip of his cock lay, there was already a spot of creamy wetness. She pulled him free from the top—he was harder than she’d guessed already, and took the tip of him in her mouth. One of his hands clenched hard on the edge of the desk, the other came to her hair. She’d left it down today, and he wound a length of it up in a tail, and around his palm. It was enough that he could direct her head, if he wanted to, and it
Similar Books
One Day the Wind Changed
Tracy Daugherty
Vivian Arend - Granite Lake Wolves 2
Wolf Flight
Freudian Slip
Erica Orloff
Fire (The Mermaid Legacy - Book 2)
Natasha Hardy
Quantum Break
Cam Rogers
Brown on Resolution
C S Forester
ZeroZeroZero
Roberto Saviano
The Love Potion
Sandra Hill
Cheat the Grave
Vicki Pettersson
Sapphic Cowboi
K'Anne Meinel