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It was sexy as hell.
Hence my hour-long erection and deciding to do something about it.
Now?
Now I want to open my emails and sip on a Macallan once she’s gone back to her hotel.
More than most, I’ve got a clear path for my future. In another ten years, or so, I’ll take over my father’s role as CEO and lead Montgomery Enterprises.
Already I’ve made an impression with the board and our partners. When I was appointed the director of marketing sales had been low. I know why. My mother had died a few years earlier, and we’d all struggled to come to grips with the loss. My father included.
That had reflected on the numbers.
Now, a few years on, we’re back in a strong phase and soon we’ll be launching our next Verity & Co. collection. It’s an essential season for the company to gain more ground on competitors who benefited from our earlier weak performance period.
That time is over.
We have a couple of months to get everything ready and I’m excited to really show what I can do.
“What if I want to do this again?” Stacey asks, doing up her bra.
My eyes drop to the lace, momentarily disappointed to lose sight of her deep pink nipples which had been pressed firmly into my sheets while I thrust into her from behind.
I’ll admit, I’m a breast guy. Which is why I’d moved her up the bed, then had her sit up and face the wall while I took a handful and continued to pound her ass. Palming the wall, I told her what a dirty slut she was and she fucking loved it.
I’ve yet to meet a woman who doesn’t.
I’m sure it’s because you need some excellent upper body strength to sustain it. That and you can lower your hand and stroke the clit, which is always a winning move if you’re ready for some clamping around your cock.
I’m always ready.
But do I think Stacey wants seconds? No, she’s testing me. We both got what we wanted. No heart eyes needed.
I’m not looking to fall in love.
Or commit in any way.
In fact, I don’t date. I don’t take women out to dinner. Or go to the movies. Or walk hand in hand on the beach and watch sunsets.
I fuck.
When I hit my thirties, I might feel differently about settling down, but that’s a few years away yet.
Right now, my priority is growing Ward Montgomery Enterprises—or WME as we call it—to double the size by the time I take the lead.
A bold target given it’s already a multi-billion-dollar company.
“You won’t,” I finally answer, sliding my gold Rolex back on and then walk into my wardrobe. I select a pair of Prada jeans and a black cashmere sweater then return to the bedroom to find Stacey dressed. “I’ll walk you down. My driver is only a few minutes away.”
I stop a foot away and study her reaction to the fact I organized the car while she was tossing the used condom in the toilet.
Yeah, I’m an asshole.
“I’m glad we did this.” She smiles.
I smirk. “It’s been in the cards for a while.”
Now leave.
