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Executive Engagement: A Boardroom to Bedroom Fake Fiancee Romance by Alexis Angel (74)

Derek

I’m late for fucking work again.

This shits me seriously. I must have slept through my alarm. I know I’ve been working too hard.

I’m so fucking pissed off with myself. So much so that I consider not going in.

I closed a sixty million dollar deal yesterday. Imagine what the commission is on that.

I made a deal with myself, though. Work like a dog for five years. Then buy that yacht and sail…and sail fucking anywhere.

No more city, no more stress.

I have more than enough money now. That’s not what’s pushing me out the door. The drive is the kill, the close.

Knowing my ideas are better. My mouth is quicker. My instincts are spot on, at all times.

There’s nothing like utterly slaughtering the competition in the board room.

So I hurry. I’m on the phone as I hit the bottom of the stairs, but I’m distracted from my conversation for a few seconds when I see Allana at the mail boxes.

Even though I’m late, I slow down so my eyes can linger over her body as I go through the foyer.

Fuck me. She looks fucking incredible.

Soft white slacks that hug her just right. Long dark hair. Most women don’t wear their hair that long anymore—right down to her ass.

And what an ass she has. Her top half drapes in a soft, wavy way. It hangs off her angles and curves, accenting her instead of hiding her.

She’s looking intently at her mail, and I’m on the phone, so I just keep moving.

Who am I kidding? That’s what I always do. Talking to her would be a waste of time.

She’s obviously living the high life of a top model. At her age, she’s hitting her sexual peak and probably has armloads of toy boys. Young dicks that have nothing to do but get it up over and over again for a goddess like her.

I don’t open deals I can’t close. It’s as simple as that.

You have to see them coming. Know which battles to fight. Allana is one hot fucking woman…

The approach has to be completely right for any chance of success. I’m not sure I want to hear her say she’s not interested. Do you know how many sluts I’d have to bang to erase that?

I remember seeing the pictures from that black-and=white shoot. I stride down the street now, putting my phone away and hoping my cock doesn’t decide to give me away.

I had been eating lunch at my desk—as usual—when some pictures came through from one of the magazines for editing approval.

I have no fucking clue how many magazines we produce or sell ad space for. That’s not important to me.

I just make deals. I don’t know why the pictures had come to my inbox, although some of the guys have a private network for that type of thing.

Honestly, I don’t think much when I see nude pictures in my files. I’m usually too busy.

But Allana’s picture…well. It got my fucking attention.

I had lingered over those shots for a good half hour. Forgot all about my salad and whole meal with a protein shake.

She was just painted on that page. Bending over, peeking around her leg. Lying on white sheets with one finger between her pussy lips.

She was cradling her breasts. Such amazing tits for someone so tall and slender. And what an ass.

The grin on her face and the confident look in her eyes. From that black-and-white page, she had stared into me.

I had never seen such deep eyes.

She’s beautiful, that’s undeniable, but the thought of those eyes staring into me while I’m fucking her…

Oh god. She’s something else.

I had moved into The Bradford not long after. I’d only been there a month when I saw her for the first time.

I was coming into the foyer as she walked out, wearing a tight black dress with a loose skirt. She was just putting on her sunglasses, and if I had been two minutes later, I would have missed her eyes.

Without them, I wouldn’t have recognized her.

For just a few seconds, she had looked at me. Right into me. It was the same slightly passive yet also very amused expression she had used on the page.

It was a look that said, ‘Think you can take me, soldier?’

I would’ve liked to fucking try, that’s for sure.

I know it’s useless. She’d be so bored with me. My twelve-hour days and constant meetings.

She needs someone who’ll attend to every inch of that soft skin. I know I’m just too driven. I don’t want to choose between work and her.

No doubt she would have the same dilemma. With a body and a face like that, she must be on photo shoots all day.

I put the idea out of my mind. I have three big deals on today, as well as a couple of smaller ones. I want to hit home runs on every single one of them.

There’s competition from other companies as well as within my own. I jump into a taxi, and go over the details in my mind.

I need to remember the complexities of each client, setting myself up mentally for the day.

But my cock does not sit down, nor does it shut up.

I close my eyes for a second and indulge.

Seeing her standing at the mail boxes. Walking up behind her, stroking her shoulders. Pulling her back against me to smell that long hair.

Feeling her curves rub up against me. Are her tits as soft and firm as they look? Of course they are.

Would she give me that dull, ‘Fuck you’ look as I come inside her? God, I fucking hope so.

Looks like I might have to blow off a deal or two and hit the gym. This tension isn’t going to be solved by a hard walk to work.