Prologue
I arrive at the office early, as I always do. There’s only one security guard on duty at that time of day and he nods to me as I pass through the lobby, just as he always does. No need to show my pass because he knows me well. I ride the elevators up in blissful silence — they don’t start piping the Muzak in until eight or so.
The elevator doors open onto the thirty-sixth floor, where the Bradley & Prescott offices are. The main reception desk is still empty, as it always when I arrive, and I stride past it, admiring the way everything in our lobby looks clean and pristine. These are some of the most expensive office suites in the city, and you can tell just by looking around.
I like to be here early, because when the CEO gets in before everyone else, it puts the fear of God into them. Makes them think they need to work harder to keep up. And there’s nothing I like more than pushing people to work harder.
Today, though, instead of being greeted by the silent soaring hallways and the low hum of the air conditioner, I hear an obnoxious whirring. A grinding noise. An assault on my ears.
Irritation winds its way through me. One of the secretaries, maybe, in early to finish something she didn’t have the brains to wrap up last night before she left.
The noise gets louder as I approach the executive offices. My office space, the one I share with only my business partner and mentor Richard Prescott, and our two executive assistants. Richard isn’t usually in until ten or so, so I don’t know who’d be making a ruckus in there so early.
I round the corner and do a double take.
The redhead is bent over Richard’s desk, rifling through a stack of papers. She’s wearing some kind of denim shorts, so tiny that I can see the curve of her perfectly round ass.
It definitely isn’t Margie, Richard’s usual assistant. In fact, I have no idea who it is. She’s feeding papers one handful at a time into a big loud shredder, and I can see a pair of white ear buds feeding into her ears as she wiggles her ass in time to whatever tune she’s listening to.
“Can I help you?” I ask, my voice stern and commanding.
She spins around, startled. Her hand goes to her heart, barely covering the cleavage that spills out of her tiny tank top.
“Jacob! You scared me.”
Holy fuck. I know exactly who this is.
“Lily. I haven’t seen you in ages. Must be, what, four years now?”
She nods, smiling. “Five, probably. Look, no more braces.” She flashes her pearly whites at me, but all I can see are her full round lips. Perfect cock-sucking lips.
My dick surges in my expensive suit pants as I take in her tight body. The tits spilling out of her tank top. The hint of taut stomach visible between the bottom of her shirt and the top of her shorts. The long creamy white legs that go on for days. Who knew Richard’s daughter had grown up to be such a stunner?
“Right.” I do the math in my head, figuring she must be eighteen now. It shows — her body is pure nubile perfection, all tight curves and smooth skin and a springy sort of gymnastic energy. She’s even wearing crisp white sneakers, the kind that make me think of cheerleaders.
Ah, Christ. My cock rises again and I shift my weight to the opposite foot, trying to mask the obvious tent that’s forming in my suit pants.
“What are you doing here?”
She gestures at the pile of papers on the desk. “Dad said he’d take me out to lunch today if I could help him with some paperwork.”
“Ah. Nice of him.” I lick my lips as Lily twists her long red hair to re-knot it on top of her head. The movements make her tits bounce, and I realize she isn’t even wearing a bra. Of course she’s not, because she’s eighteen and she’s got fucking perfect breasts.
“Well, don’t let me keep you from it,” I add.
“Okay,” she says, smiling. “Oh, I brought cookies.”
“Cookies?” I look at her with confusion, which makes her giggle. Jesus, that giggle.
“Cookies. I made them.” She gestures at a tin that I now see sitting on the desk.
I smile slyly. “I’m good, thanks.” Because nothing could be as sweet as that view.
She shrugs and turns back to the desk, her tight ass jutting back towards me again. I take a step towards her. It’s not intentional — it’s almost as if I’m being led by my cock. It’s hard as hell now and it’s looming like a missile towards her tight ass. All I want to do is bend her over that desk, rip off those ugly shorts, and drive my cock right up inside her. I’d start with her pussy, and when she was sore and raw from too much fucking, I’d take her ass too. I’d take her in every hole, and then we’d go around the world a second time.
I take another step towards her, and another, until I’m just behind her. I lean forward just enough so that my hard cock can graze against her ass.
She jumps, startled, and then giggles, but she doesn’t turn around or stop me. I press harder against her, letting my cock, still sheathed beneath my pants, ride just between her thighs.
“Jacob,” she murmurs, and my name on her lips is like an aphrodisiac. My cock surges again, nudging against her, and she giggles. Her skin is so flushed it looks like it’s on fire. Which is about how I feel right now too. What is happening to me? Sure, I love beautiful women, but the sight of Lily at this desk is just about driving me out of my mind.
“Hello Jacob.”
I whip around when I hear Richard’s voice, flashing him a guilty smile.
“Richard. Good morning.”
I expect him to look pissed — after all, I was grinding up against his eighteen-year-old daughter — but instead he nervously wipes at his brow, which is coated in a sheen of sweat. He glances down, noting my erection, and then looks back up at me. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard.
“Do you have a moment, Jacob? We need to talk.”