Chapter 12

Oliver

I kissed Becka goodbye at her car. Of course, I wanted to take her home with me, but I had a lot of thinking and planning to do. I should have anticipated that Ethan and Becka would cross paths at some point. And in her ethics class! His gall was unbelievable.

All the way home, I seethed, trying to control my anger. I thought I’d taken care of Ethan; I’d have to check back through my records, but we had been paying Ethan for over a year, ever since he had discovered the truth and threatened to expose Neuotova to the world.

When I got back to my home office, I called one of my business partners immediately and explained. “He’s going after my employees. My new personal assistant is a teacher at the local college, and he planted himself in her class. Tonight, he started asking her all sorts of questions.”

I heard a sharp intake of breath on Richard’s end of the phone. “Your new personal assistant is Ethan’s teacher?” he asked, repeating the crux of what I had just said. “Can your new assistant be trusted?”

“Becka is beyond reproach,” I said sharply. “She is not the issue. The issue is, this little maniac is infiltrating Neuotova from as close to the inside as he can get. He ambushed her after class and tried to fill her head with lies.”

“What do you want done?” Richard asked.

“Whatever is necessary. I need this little rat out of my way. Get him arrested, get him thrown out of school, get him deported to Mexico. Whatever you need to do.”

“I’m not sure he’s an illegal,” Richard said dryly.

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever,” I said. “I’m going to deal with Becka; I’m trusting you to deal with Ethan Hernandez.”

How I planned to deal with Becka was by taking her on vacation for two weeks while Richard took care of Ethan. She would balk at it, I was sure, but I needed her to not be in contact with Ethan until my partner had reached an agreement with him.

***

The next day, I stopped by Becka’s desk. She had my coffee waiting promptly at 8:45, and I smiled at her.

“Come on into my office,” I invited. “I have a proposition for you.” I tried to hide my smile as she began to blush immediately, a red flare moving from her gorgeous, full cleavage all the way up her slender neck and into her cheeks. “You can keep your clothes on,” I whispered, though there was no one around.

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed,” she said as she stood up and followed me into my office, “but you can do plenty of damage without removing my clothes.”

I smiled and nodded, acknowledging that I knew exactly the type of damage I could do. I sat on my desk in the exact same spot she had occupied, and I looked at her.

“I need to go away for two weeks. To Italy. There are some oils I want to check out from an investor, and the only way to confirm that everything is on the level is to see them for myself.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “What will you need me to do while you’re gone?”

“I want you to come with me,” I said.

Her eyes widened and she smiled as if she couldn’t believe she’d heard me correctly. “I can’t do that, Oliver, I have class. And I have a job.” She pointed out the door to her desk.

I stood and walked around my desk so I was just a few inches from her. I leaned against my desk and lined my foot up against hers. I could tell she felt it because the flush in her face deepened. It was a risk on my end; I was incredibly aroused myself, and getting closer to her was only increasing that arousal.

“Get a sub,” I said. “And you’ll be working for me while we’re there. I can’t go without my assistant.” I looked at her as if the matter was settled; in my mind, it was.

“Does this have anything to do with Ethan?” she asked. “Because if it does, you don’t need to worry. I won’t let him ask me any more questions. If he gets aggressive, I’ll call campus security or something.”

“I want you to come to Italy with me,” I whispered, leaning in to her. I took her hands and she stood up; I pulled her in to me. I knew she could feel my cock, hard and wanting her, against her leg. I put my hands on her ass, full and supple beneath my palms, and I squeezed her toward me. Her breasts felt like warm pillows against my chest and I kissed her warm, wet mouth.

“I’ll find a sub,” she said. “But it might take me a few days.”

“Not a problem,” I said. “Go make the calls you need to make.”

She turned and walked out of my office, her gorgeous ass swaying back and forth in her skirt. I watched her until she sat back at her desk, then I got on my computer and began making a list of things to do in Italy.

Becka

I couldn’t believe how quickly the week went; before I knew it, I had packed, found a sub, gotten to the airport, taken a plane to Italy, and now, here I was, standing at baggage claim with people speaking Italian all around me and Oliver at my side.

“Our driver should be here already,” Oliver was saying. “He’s our private driver for the entire time we’re here. Though I thought we could rent a car over the weekend and take it for a ride in the country.” He leaned down and kissed me. My body, as it always did, sank toward him as though it was coming home after a long day at work.

We grabbed our bags and loaded them onto a cart, then walked toward transportation. Right away, I spotted our driver. He was a dark skinned, dark haired, very tall, very handsome Italian man. He spoke perfect English with a thick accent. He greeted us, paying particular attention to Oliver, then drove us to Tuscany.

We were staying in a private house, a mansion, as it turned out. I was surprised, but then chided myself; would I ever stop being surprised at Oliver’s expensive lifestyle? The house was beautiful. It had a pool, a vineyard, and a kitchen where I could easily see a Michelin star chef cooking meal after meal. Oliver gave me a tour of the parts he had seen from the rental agent, and we explored the rest.

The bedroom was decorated in dark colors, rich tapestries hung on the walls and the king-sized bed was clearly the centerpiece of the room. Oliver turned to me and kissed me. He walked me over to the bed and I sat down, then pulled him in with me.

“I’m hungry,” I said. “I want you.”

“We can eat anything we want, whenever we want. I’m here for work, but you’re basically here on vacation. I’ll need you sometimes… who am I kidding, I’ll need you all the time… but you won’t be working very often.” He smiled, flirtation in his tone, and he kissed me. I pulled my sweatshirt off over my head and revealed to him that I had opted to not wear my bra on the plane. He smiled, and whistled quietly.

He cupped my breasts with his hands and drew them together. The stretch on my muscles combined with his touch, his hot breath so close to me, hardened my nipples and started the rest of my body moving toward its highest aroused state.

It wasn’t just Oliver; it was the entire thing. Italy. A beautiful private mansion in Tuscany. Oliver. I laid back on the bed and slid my yoga pants off, revealing a black lace G-string. He moaned and yanked his pants and shirt off as I pulled my panties down and tossed them on the other side of the bed.

“Your body keeps getting more beautiful every time I see it,” he said. “What kind of witchcraft is that?”

I took his cock in my hand and began to stroke the shaft, cupping it loosely in my palm. His cock was hard and hot, and I used my other hand to cup his sack. Its thin skin was cool to the touch, but warmed quickly. I shimmied down and he rolled over so I could take him into my mouth. As I licked his shaft, he laid back, but he kept his hands on my body, touching my skin.

The connection of his fingers to my flesh sent continued waves of pleasure rocking through me, and I increased my attention to his cock. It was throbbing with my touch, and I knew he was close to coming.

I knew guys, Oliver in particular, were tremendously visual. I twisted my head so he could see me move my lips over and around his shaft, flipping my hair over my shoulder to give him an uninterrupted view.

“Oh, Becka,” he moaned. “You are so fucking gorgeous.” I smiled, releasing my lips from his cock and licking it with my tongue instead. I licked up and down, bringing my palm to his sensitive head, red and dripping already with pre-cum.

That small change pushed him even closer, and he reached for the back of my head, directing me to suck him once again. I complied, plunging his cock deep in my mouth and quickly bobbing my head forward and back.

I felt his cum moving and he cried out, grabbing the back of my head and holding me in place as he came, his fluids pushing into my mouth. I swallowed, savoring his juices, and smiling as I finished. The final touch, I used my index finger to wipe away the non-existent cum at the corner of my mouth.

He laid back, breathless, then he sat up suddenly and grabbed me, flipping me over onto my back. I burst out giggling as he tickled me, then he stopped and guided my legs open. He reached for each of my ankles and put them over his shoulders, then he began to pleasure me. He took his time, beginning at the base of my inner thigh and licking slowly, alternating his licks with gentle, sucking kisses that drove me wild. I pushed my hips down toward him, opening my pussy to him, and he brought his mouth closer, teasing, then pulled away. I groaned.

My legs were spread wide and I knew I was wet enough to be ready for him to fuck me, but he was still recovering from his own orgasm, so he was pleasuring me in the meantime. He finally finished teasing me with kissing my thighs and brought his mouth to my pussy. Each lick, each movement of his tongue, sent waves of pleasure surging through me. I was hot, sweating already, waiting for what I knew was an inevitable conclusion.

He pressed his tongue into my pussy and wiggled it around, his nose gently bumping against my clit. I gasped and pressed toward him. He began to lick my clit and, at the same time, slid his fingers, first one, then two, then finally a third, into my pussy. He finger-fucked me slowly as his tongue swirled circles around my clit. My body felt complete sensory overload in the best possible way, and I began to moan as my climax surged through me. He continued, lapping up my wetness as I moved through my first orgasm and directly into my second.

“Fuck,” I cried out. “Oh my God, you feel so fucking good!” I had a grip on his shoulders and I clawed at him, my moans dissolving into gasping sighs.

Then, he entered me. My eyes popped open and he smiled, bringing his lips to mine.

“Surprise,” he said, and I laughed. Then, we both grew serious as we moved together, our bodies adhered to one another with sweat and heat, our timing perfectly in sync. His cock filled me and I felt his pubic bone rubbing against my clit; I knew I wasn’t going to be able to last long.

He couldn’t either; as soon as I began to fall over the cliff of my orgasm, he followed me with his own. We cried out together, still glued to one another, and moved through our pleasure’s fruition simultaneously.

When we were finished, we were exhausted and slept, the strain of the travel finally pushing us to the wall. When I awoke, it was daylight in Tuscany. I got out of bed and walked naked to the entry way, where our luggage still sat from the night before.

“Leave it,” Oliver said. I turned and he stood, naked, his cock at attention, his muscles hard and his skin tan. I looked at him, a questioning expression on my face. “Let’s go for a swim.”

“My bathing suit is in here,” I said, pointing to my suitcase.

“You don’t need a bathing suit,” he said. “You’re in Italy. And you’re in the privacy of your own home.”

“The pool is outside,” I pointed out.

“You’re in Italy,” he said, as if that settled it.

We went for a skinny dip in the pool, then Oliver made a call to have some food delivered while I showered. We ate in our bathrobes and I realized I didn’t think I’d ever been that hungry in my entire life.

“What would you like to do today?” he asked. “Take a drive? Go shopping?”

“Fuck you silly?” I added, matching my tone to his.

He laughed and I grinned, raising my mimosa to him.

“You’re insatiable,” he said. And he was right, though I had never experienced that sensation before. As I stared at him across the table, I realized I literally could not get enough of Oliver Weeks. I needed him with me, near me, inside me.

“Let’s go for a drive through the country. You can point out some of the places you’ve already been, and we can eat. Because, though this probably won’t surprise you much, I’m starving again.”

We dressed and got ready for the drive. Oliver called for a car, a sporty red Fiat convertible, as it turned out, and I pulled my hair back into a bun and applied the most basic make up I could. We drove and Oliver pointed out restaurants we needed to return to, vineyards of some of my favorite wines, and the home of one of the men he needed to meet with while we were here in Italy.

I couldn’t believe where we were, but, every few miles there were signs on the side of the road for Rome, Milan, and cities I’d never heard of. The sun was bright in the sky and I leaned my head back against the seat, absorbing the sun’s light and basking in the most perfect moments of my life.

When we got back, I showered and Oliver went to the dining room to do some work. I figured I could check my email and perhaps do some work on my dissertation while he was occupied. I hadn’t gotten my phone adaptable to international texting, so all of my communication while we were here had to be over email.

I had messages from my mom and from Lisa, and a few from students wondering if I was going to be coming back, though they were complimenting the sub I had gotten. I wasn’t surprised; the sub was a professor emeritus and was well versed in all matters of food science. They were in good hands.

Then, I saw a name that chilled me. Ethan Hernandez. I clicked on the message and opened it.

Hello, Becka,
I understand you’re on holiday in Italy… how nice for you. I was just over at Neuotova the other day and was told that the CEO, Oliver Weeks, is on a business trip, also to Italy. Small world full of big coincidences, don’t you agree?
When you return, I’d like to meet with you. I have some documents I think you’d find very interesting, especially considering how convinced you are that Neuotova is completely innocent of any activities involving cruelty to animals.
I look forward to sitting down with you and sharing what I know to be fact.
Sincerely,
Ethan Hernandez

I stared at my computer, my eyes wide. My first instinct was to call Oliver, to have him read the message himself. But, I hesitated. I still had heavy suspicions about Oliver and Neuotova’s practices. If I told Oliver about Ethan’s email, odds were I would never be able to have that meeting with Ethan to find out what he knew. And, did I want to have that meeting?

I realized that yes, I did. And I hid the message in a folder full of messages from Lisa. I turned off my computer and stood up, then walked to the dining room where Oliver was working. He saw me coming and closed the lid of his laptop; I found that fascinating, but I didn’t say anything.

“I’m hungry,” I said instead.

“Oh?” Oliver asked. “What are you craving?”

I smiled.