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Why am I so drawn to this woman, when no woman before has ever even made me take a second look?
After hours of waiting for Alex to send over the file, my computer finally came to life with an incoming encrypted email. Knowing Alex, this email is set to self-destruct within a matter of hours, if I’m lucky. If he was feeling particularly prickly this evening, I may only have minutes before the file merely evaporates, like its existence was only a figment of my imagination. It’s amazing what that man can do with a monitor and a keyboard.
Holly Guinevere Adkins. Guinevere, I chuckled to myself as I said the name out loud.
Age thirty.
Blonde hair.
Blue eyes.
Five feet, four inches. – Yeah right, in heels.
I flipped through Holly’s file, memorizing every detail, knowing that my time was limited to how generous Alex was feeling when he hit that send button.
She attended an all-girls, private school up until she was accepted into an Ivy League school for design. No real surprise there. What is surprising is the fact that it appears as though her education was paid for with scholarships and grant awards, not dirty money.
Scrolling further, I noticed the coveted internship she received with a world-renowned designer in New York City, where she went on to study some sort of advanced historical architecture. She graduated with honors and moved back to Carlton during the beginning of the city’s revitalization efforts and founded LGM Décor and Renovations.
Bank statements and loan documents showed the opposite of my initial assumption. Her business was funded with a legitimate business loan that she paid off after completing the renovation for the historical Magnolia Mansion for Chief Executive Officer of Walsh, Inc., Ryan Walsh. There is no indication in any of her financial records that she receives any type of funding from her father or his estate. Interesting.
Sitting in a nice and secure account just off the coast is a hefty trust fund in her name that remains untouched. According to these documents, she could have accessed the funds years ago, and yet it sits stagnant.
I noted documents that confirmed many of the things Alex had previously mentioned, two sisters – one married with children living a similar lifestyle in which it appears they grew up, as well as a second sister that is currently living abroad. Her sister’s names are Noel and Mistletoe? I’m definitely filing that away to be addressed at a later time.
Holly lives alone, in a conservative apartment in a hipster, artsy area of Carlton.
She’s single, but recently was involved with a man named Chet Atwell, owner of Atwell Commercial Construction. Similar industries, but while her business has soared over the last year, it appears as though his is plummeting.
My hand paused as my eyes scanned over the restraining order filed a little less than a year ago on Holly’s behalf. My knuckles whitened and my grip hardened around the computer mouse as my heart rate escalated. And just like, that Chet is on my list. It looks like he could use a visit. Ya know...just to say hello.
Records indicate that he may have roughed her up a bit, broken into her apartment, and caused enough damage to Holly that she had to contact a non-profit organization for women in abusive relationships.
Maybe she’s not quite as tough as her exterior portrays. There’s a name for men like Chet, men that get their kicks from feeding on powerful women. Women that are powerhouses in their own rights. These are the women that have their shit together, that stand at the top of the mountain. It’s men like Chet that make it their goal to bring them down, because they feel threatened by a successful woman. Instead of seeing that woman for what she is, a rarity – the diamond among so many basic gemstones - instead of appreciating that they are holding something rare, they want to conquer it. They want to steal the diamond and dull its shine because they’re insecure and that makes them feel powerful.
I commend Holly for getting out of that relationship, because the woman I met at the café by no appearances was insecure. She was fire, she stood at the top of her mountain, and dammit if that’s not where she deserves to be. As long as she’s not at the top of a mountain of mafia sex and drug lords, that is.
???
Thirty minutes. I’ve been in the file for thirty minutes, and I still have access. I have yet to find a single piece of incriminating evidence, just as Alex assured me I wouldn’t. I should wrap it up and go home, knowing that the email is probably set to destruct any minute. But that’s not what I do, because I’m an asshole that can’t stop thinking about Holly Adkins and her shiny blonde hair that hangs just over shoulders, and her red bottom high heels that I know cost as much as one of my custom-tailored suits. What I wouldn’t give to have those toned thighs wrapped around my waist, her pretty little feet in her expensive high heels digging into my bare back.
I sent Amanda home tonight, a sure thing, because I just can’t get the damn woman out of my head. Sure, I could have closed my eyes and pretended. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Hell, Amanda would have even let me call her Holly, but it wouldn’t have been the same. I can’t stop this overwhelming need for the real thing. I want to touch, I want to taste, I want to hear her say my name over and over again as she begs me to let her come. And she will beg, God will she beg. It’s pissing me the fuck off. Why am I so strung out for this woman? A woman that I don’t even know.
I scrolled forward, past more documentation on her therapy sessions after Chet and the renovations she’s been working on recently. More financial documentation, and even some shit about brunch with her girlfriends. I scrolled until I stopped on the video files that Alex mentioned earlier. I clicked them open one at a time until I found what I was looking for. There is no volume on these videos, but I don’t need it. The visual is more than enough for me. I leaned back in my high-back black leather office chair and like the asshole that I know I am, I unzipped my pants.
Too bad, so sad if Alex is watching right now. Hell, he’s probably watching with his wife before bed. They’re both dirty perverts like that, they like to keep it fresh in the bedroom, and who am I to judge their perfectly healthy marriage.
I hit play on the video and watched Holly walk out of her bathroom in nothing but a pair of black boy shorts as I gripped my cock in my hand. She’s petite, her hips are narrow, but her ass is thick enough to fill both of my hands. My eyes are immediately drawn to her perfect pink nipples as her breasts bounce in step with her movements as she walks toward her bed with a glass of water. I imagine gripping her full breasts in my hands, they aren’t overly large, but they’re enough that they would easily fill my mouth.
I spit in my hand to lubricate it and begin to stroke my cock. I watch Holly and imagine pulling her nipple into my mouth, sucking it to a peak as I grip her opposite breast with my free hand and pinch her nipple. Hard. Would she like the pain? She would grow to like it; I can teach her how the pain leads to more immense pleasure. How I can make it hurt so good for her. For both of us.
I watched as she bent over slightly to sit her glass of water down on her nightstand and the cheeks of her ass peaked out from the fabric of her boy shirts. I bet if I look closely enough, I can see the outline of her pussy against the thin fabric between her legs.
Pre-cum dripped from my cock as I stroked myself harder, wanting her, wanting to slip my cock into her wet pussy. Would she put up a fight or would she be submissive? She looks like a fighter. My cock thickened in my hand, the veins angry and hot as I imagined sliding my length into her tight pussy, as I imagined her bucking against me – fighting me for control.
I might ease up, just enough to let her think she’s winning, and when the sweet sound of satisfaction graces her lips, I will fuck her harder to remind her who’s really in charge.
My grip tightened as I pumped faster, watching her as she flipped the lights off and the video turned to night vision, her ass swaying just as I thought it would as she climbed into bed. What would she do if I cuffed her? If I took away her ability to fight, and instead, she was at my mercy as I fucked her sweet, tight pussy. God, this woman, what is she doing to me?
