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Brittney Vs. Banker: A Naughty Angel Tale Page 4
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Seriously, he is fucking incredible, That was such a good fuck, such a good orgasm I believe he may be sent from another planet to save me from substandard fucks and such. Ladies of earth, I am not sharing this. This is the kind of cock you have to lock down. The kind you get and then start thinking about two things -- when you'll have it next, and how you're gonna psyche yourself up to take a monster cock like that fucking you to death again. I mean, you want it, but you still hold your breath for a second after too, you know?
"Yeah, that was amazing. No one has ever fucked me like that," I say. I hear myself trying to breathe and I giggle a little hysterically. Oh god, that's returned. You'd be giddy, too, if you just got piped hard by solid gold Wonder Boy banker with the cock that never stops giving. I dip a finger down and lick up more of his cum.
"You want a tissue?" Kaden turns to reach for the box off his desk.
"Well, I'd be ungrateful if I didn't take what you offered me," I say, sliding my finger to pick up the last line of his sticky good stuff. "This was about a thank you blowjob, remember?" I say, reminding myself that the reason I can't walk straight this week is a blowjob. I almost laugh again at that notion but when I stick my finger in my mouth, I can't laugh.
Not the way he's looking at me. Like he wants to start all over again. And damn my lack of self-preservation here, because despite everything, I think, I would go again. I'd be laying against that desk, or bending over it though, because I'm barely breathing normally and my heart is still hammering in my chest. I suck that finger dry and watch him watching me, thrills shooting through my body at his attention.
"You were fucking incredible. I feel more than adequately thanked," Kaden says with a mega-watt smile that makes me think flashbulbs of old cameras are about to go off.
"I'm glad," I stammer out, trying to figure out where my clothes are. "You have an 11 o'clock. I think I better get going," I say, eyes to the ground as I sight the clothes I abandoned earlier.
He walks toward the same direction, and that massive cock is at eye level with me. I shiver, thinking, dear god, that cock was deep inside me and is still shimmering from all of my cum.
"Let me clean this off for you," I say, wrapping both hands around it and sliding the full length of that incredible cock into my mouth. I feel him start to stiffen up more in my mouth, and I suck a few more seconds than is polite. I like the feel of it jerking in my hands. I guess I can leave him wanting more, too. I pull the cock out of my mouth and look up at him. "All better now."
Kaden's hand cups my cheek and I am frozen on the spot, wondering if he's going to stab that massive dick right back down my throat and if that's exactly what I want. He says nothing, and drops his hand.
I stand up and don't know what to say. I start putting on my panties, getting dressed again to get out of the room before I climb aboard Wonder Boy's amusement part for very wet girls. I start to put my bra on and that's when Kaden decides I need a helping hand.
His mouth is at my neck, his hands close over mine and clasp my bra. Coming back forward, he smoothes the cups over my breasts, molding them against my skin with his massive hands.
I run my lower lip through my teeth. This man's every touch is so good, like a drug I'm getting addicted to. I step back and slide into my shoes, put my top back on.
Allowing myself the indulgence, I watch him stretch. The man is sexy as sin. . He is the picture of male perfection. Body of a god. Face of an angel. I snap a picture with my mind.
"This was...we should," I start and now my hand is on my hip. "Enjoy the rest of your day. I'm sure you can stalk me again should you want to do this again, or some equally enticing variation." That's my best attempt at being smooth. I turn on my heel and head out the door.
"Yes, we should, Brittney," I hear that sexy voice say just as I'm leaving. My name has never sounded so good in my life. My nipples are sore just thinking about it and my mouth runs dry. I didn't think my mouth could ever be dry again after all the saliva I worked up to choke down that huge cock. I need a bottle of water and then a nap. Maybe I need to open my mouth in the shower. This workout is so much better than anything I'd do at the gym, if I went more.
7
Kaden
“That’s for saving me from going to jail,” Brittney announces with a wink.
Wha…what? I open up my eyes and try to focus on the amazing woman in front of me who just gave me the most amazing blowjob of my life.
Lord, I sound like a 13-year-old girl right now. I do know other words than “amazing,” right?
I get my sex-crazed mind to focus on her. She’d said words. Oh right. Saving her.
“You’re welcome. Any time. Especially if that’s the reward,” I say, gesturing towards my Very Happy Dick.
“Well, I’m off. Have a good day!” she says cheerfully, as if we’ve just exchanged pleasantries on the street, and then fucking walks out of my office.
Just walks out!
I’m in such a state of shock, I don’t even think to stop her until the door clicks closed behind her. Where is she going? Why is she going?
“Wait!”
I start to chase after her but as I get to my office door, I realize that things are a little more…breezy than normal, and holy shit, I can’t go walking out into the main office area naked as the day I was born. I’d give Gweny a heart attack.
I throw my clothes on as quickly as I can, running my hands through my hair to try to straighten it, and then open up my office door. Gweny is giving me the death glare and I just give her a sheepish grin in return.
“It’s 11:13 am, sir.” She never calls me sir, except when I’m in trouble. Whoops. “I tried knocking on the door earlier, but you were…occupied.”
I give her a weak grin and all but dive back into my office, shutting the door behind me. The 11 o’clock appointment wasn’t really that important – just some more investors who wanted to give me more money, and since I already have more money than God, the excitement just isn’t there for me anymore.
But Brittney...
I lean up against the office door and remember what it’d felt like that first moment, when she’d wrapped her lips around my dick. Oh fuck, what a marvelous feeling.
Now there was something to focus on.
I pace around the office, thinking. What could I do? I can already tell that Brittney isn’t going to be impressed by my wealth – she didn’t seem to blink an eyelash at my opulent office. She isn’t going to be impressed by my title as Boy Wonder. I need to figure out what she wants. What makes Brittney Bartlett tick?
Finally, a challenge worth pursuing. I pick up my phone and call Gweny. Yeah, I’m a wimp, calling her when she’s only twenty steps away from me, but in here, she can’t send me death rays with her eyes.
“Yes, sir?” she answers.
“Quit calling me sir,” I say, exasperated. “All I did was fuck a beautiful woman.”
“Yes, sir,” she says blandly.
I roll my eyes.
“Listen, I need you to gather up the research team. Emergency meeting at three this afternoon. The Stately Oak Room.” God, whoever named our conference rooms really needs to be hauled outside and shot. I make a mental note to change them all tomorrow. No more Splashing Waterfalls – which just makes me want to go take a leak – or Crystal Rivers.
But that’s tomorrow. Today, I finally have a challenge.
“Yes, sir. And—” she says before I can hang up, “golfing. You should pick up golfing.”
“Yeah, but there aren’t that many beautiful blondes who play golf,” I say and hang up before she can give a witty reply.
Don’t worry, I’ll hear it later. For now though, she’s stymied. I grin in triumph.
Okay Brittney Bartlett, let’s see what you’ve got…
8
Kaden
I stand in front of my research team and take a deep breath. I know they all think that I’m here to ask them to research a new company acquisition or stock gamble, so I’m a litt
le…hesitant to tell them the real reason they’re sitting around the Stately Oak conference table, laptops in front of them.
“Uhhhh…”
We’re off to a strong start.
“I’ve called this emergency meeting today so we can do some research,” I finally spit out. Everyone just stares at me. I might as well have said, “I would like to make a critical announcement – you must breathe in order to live!”
Plunging on, I say, “Brittney Bartlett. We need to research her.” Well, I at least got the words out. I mentally pat myself on the back.
“The investment analyst from Carter Jeffries?” Tom asks, looking confused.
“What?” I say reflexively.
“She’s an investment analyst over at Carter,” Tom repeats, looking at me quizzically. He fears me enough – at least someone does around here, Gweny – not to ask the question on everyone’s mind: Why am I asking to research someone I know so little about?
All right, fine. Truth time.
“Truth is, I just met her and I need to impress her.”
First, it was just a twitch of the lips, which quickly escalated into a full-blown belly laugh. “You want to pick up on this chick?” Hansen yells, and doubles over laughing again.
“Hell yes,” I admit with a chagrined smile. “Have you seen her legs?”
“Not close enough,” Tom says with a huge grin. I send him the death glare. He withers down in his seat, suddenly quiet. I mean, I’ll laugh with the best of them, but Brittney is my girl. No making jokes about fucking her.
When did she become your girl?
I brush the thought away. Soon. She’ll be my girl soon.
“I need to know everything about her,” I say, striding around the room. “Favorite color. Where she graduated from high school. Favorite restaurant. Favorite book.”
“She reads?” Hansen pipes up, surprised.
“Yes, she reads. Like most literate human beings,” I say drily. Everyone laughs. “I need to know what author she’s obsessed with. I need to know if she’d rather go skydiving or snorkeling on a date. If she sneezed last week, I need to know about it.”
Finally realizing that I’m serious about this, my crack research team bends over their laptops and start their searches. I know that soon, I’ll know everything I ever wanted to know about Brittney. I’ll know if she slept with a teddy bear at night as a child...
And I’ll know if she wants to sleep with me now. Because as fun as the fuck on my desk was, it wasn’t enough. I need more. I haven’t slated my thirst for her yet, not by a long shot.
9
Brittney
Okay, so it’s been three weeks, and I’m not above admitting that it feels like for-fucking-ever. When I left Kaden in his office, his pants hanging off the filing cabinet in the corner where I’d shucked them in the middle of our fuck-a-thon, I’d thought he’d, you know, come after me. Maybe not that day, but soon afterward. I wasn’t used to fucking a guy, and then not having him chase me. The chase was most of the fun.
But…Kaden somehow didn’t get the memo. How was it that he wasn’t calling me? He hadn’t even added me as a friend on Facebook yet. For being a stalker, he sure was falling down on the job.
Maybe he’d gotten me out of his system. Maybe he’d just wanted a quick fuck and then he was ready to move on. Maybe I’d somehow gotten more attached to him than he’d gotten to me.
The thought makes me uber depressed and I decide to eat a pint of ice cream when I get home tonight. There’s this chocolate gelatino that is to die for that I’ve been hiding in the back of the freezer for just this kind of occasion. I can wear my Donald Duck PJs and my floppy pink bunny slippers that even my sister doesn’t know I own, and just eat ice cream while watching reruns of Gilmore Girls on TV. That sounds suitably cliché enough. I might even dig out my copy of Pride and Prejudice and get my Austen on.
“What’s a beautiful lady doing in a place like this?”
I hear his voice before I see him, and I whirl around in my office chair in surprise, almost falling out of it in the process. Like summoning a genie in a bottle, here’s fucking sexy Kaden Charles himself.
“Oh hi!” I squeak out. I clear my throat and try that again. “Hi.” I lean back in my chair casually, trying to act as if I had not just been mentally drooling over the very thought of him, but I let my eyes rake over him, taking in his dark blond hair, and curling over his forehead, down past his Salvatore Ferragamo shirt and tie all the way down to his Sutor Mantellassi shoes. He’s looking good, real good, and I mentally forgive him for taking three weeks to finally contact me.
Although, I am surprised he just waltzed in here like this. How did he even get back to my desk? Usually security doesn’t allow people in back here. He must’ve greased some palms.
“So I’m buying Atlantic Trading Group,” he says, leaning against my desk. I have to crane my neck back to stare up at him, and I wonder for a moment about telling him that he has to sit on the floor so I don’t get a crick in my neck. But I decide to let it go for the moment. Some things are worth suffering through, know what I mean?
“Yeah, I saw that deal come through. And you just happen to be using Carter Jeffries to help you put the deal together?”
He grins, unashamed. “Well, I thought I’d use the best. I’ve heard at CJ, there’s this brilliant investment analyst who knows it all, so I figured why not use her services, right?”
“Right,” I say, trying to quell my laughter. I really shouldn’t be egging him on. He’d taken three weeks to show up here, after all. I should make him pay for that somehow.
“I’ve been thinking after our last…meeting, that what I really ought to do is take you out on a little yacht that I have, and we can just hang out for the day on the water.”
“Really?!” I can’t help it – I am shocked. Most guys think that to impress a girl, they need to take her to the fanciest restaurant they can afford, and pour as much wine down her as possible. I don’t know if I’ve been ‘wined and dined’ too often, or what, but that just doesn’t do much for me anymore.
“Yeah. Just you, me, and the ocean for a day. Or a week. Do you have any vacation time coming up?”
“A little.” Truth? My boss has been on my ass to take at least a week’s vacation, or corporate will have to pay it out to me in cash, and they hate doing that. It’s gotten to the point that my boss has started putting brochures for five-star resorts on my desk every day.
I don’t want to go to a resort, though.
But a week on the ocean? That sounds like…heaven.
I run my hand up his thigh, letting my fingernails scrape along until I get dangerously close to his dick. His eyes flare with desire and internally, I grin in triumph. So maybe he’s made me suffer for the last three weeks, but he still wants me.
He asks, “Want to go out for a drink tonight? At Bungalow 8 again? I can show you some dance moves out on the floor.”
God, I love guys who can dance. If he can really dance, I may melt into a pile of goo into my stilettos, like a non-witch version of the Wicked Witch of the West. So many guys think that going out onto the dance floor and waving back and forth, feet firmly planted in place, somehow counts.
Not even close.
A guy who can dance, and wants to take me out on a yacht and is an amazing fuck and loves libraries and is worth about a gazillion dollars? Oh, and is drop-fucking-dead gorgeous?!
What isn’t to love?
I open up my mouth to reply when—
“Sir, you aren’t supposed to be back here,” a security guard says at my elbow. I jerk my hand back down into my lap and my face flames a brilliant red. Goddammit, now I look like an idiot to my co-workers. I had really thought he’d gotten the okay to be back here.
“You are supposed to be in the Creaking Maple conference room, not back here among proprietary trading technology,” the security guard continues, pompously. I have to wonder how he’s able to say that with a straight face, especially the Cr
eaking Maple bit. I don’t know who named the Carter Jeffries conference rooms, but they have fuck-awful names. I usually snort coffee up my nose every time someone says XX SEXUAL REFERENCE.
“Well, I’d just come back here to say hi to Brittney,” Kaden says with a confident smile.
“You know this man?” the guard demands, staring at me.
I look back and forth between the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, and an overweight balding security guard with a pompous attitude that’d fit right in with the royal family of England.
And I feel that naughty grin come back.
“No, sorry sir,” I say apologetically. “I was just sitting here, working, when he came up and started talking to me. I’ve never seen him before in my life.” Well, all of that was true except the last bit, so I figure I’m only going to slightly roast in hell, instead of having flames lick up my legs. And anyway, he really deserves this, for coming back into the employee area without permission. I could get into deep shit over this.
The stunned look on Kaden’s face is worth it all. “But…but…” he stutters, as the security guard whistles to his backup, and together, they drag Kaden out of the office area, giving him a stern talking to as they go.
I turn back to my desk and let the grin out fully. Sometimes, I have a little too much fun...
I lean over, grab my phone, and text him. “Meet me at Opal in Turtle Bay in 45 minutes.” I can go out to lunch with him, and teach him how the real world works. Starting with, don’t fuck with a girl’s career.
10
Kaden
I drum my fingertips on the table impatiently. After getting a dressing down from security guards like I was six years old, I was shoved out the front door and not allowed to go down to the Creaking Maple conference room – god, their conference rooms are just as bad as ours – where the buyout of Atlantic Trading Group was being discussed.