CHAPTER TWELVE
Tucker
I sauntered into the office, whistling quietly, coolly confident as always.
My cousin turned to look at me, swiveling on his stool.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Hunter asked.
I just ignored him, throwing my shit down on my desk before sprawling in a chair. Man, I was sore like I’d been working out for hours, but it wasn’t from the gym. Oh no, I was wrung out from being buried in my best girl’s pussy, that cunt so tight, so small, that it sucked every last sperm out of me, draining me to the last drop. Fuck and it felt so good, I couldn’t wait to see Laurie again for more.
Hunter strode by my desk, dropping a sheaf of papers.
“Orders are up by fifty percent,” he said, “We gotta hire more staff.”
I leaned back in my chair, hands behind my head, stretching, twisting my neck. Fuck, that girl had me bent out of shape, I’d probably pulled a muscle from the sex games alone.
“Sure,” I grunted. “We can afford it, easy.”
Hunter just looked at me, shaking his head.
“Seriously man, as CEO of this place you’d think you’d want to run the numbers first or at least ask someone to run the numbers for you before making a decision. I mean aren’t you afraid that you’re wrong, that you’re dragging us into some black hole?”
But I shrugged my shoulders. I was on top of the numbers every day, I knew exactly where NYC Concierge stood in terms of staffing and expenses, our revenues versus our profits. Even if it didn’t look like I was paying attention, I was on the dashboard constantly, scrutinizing our figures like a hawk. Besides as our COO, it was Hunter’s fucking job to bring me the numbers, help me make informed decisions.
“These the spreadsheets?” I asked, eyeing the sheaf of paper.
My cousin nodded.
“Yeah, this is it. Let me know if you have any questions,” he said rolling his eyes before turning and walking away.
I fingered the papers unenthusiastically, staring at his disappearing back. Because my cousin and I founded NYC Concierge together a year ago, it was my idea and Hunter agreed to come on-board to bring it to life. During business school I’d noticed a gap in the market and strove to take advantage of the opportunity. It’s always been an asset of mine, this ability to spot openings and manipulate them before anyone else got there, getting a first-mover’s advantage.
Because sure, there are tons of door-to-door delivery services in the city, heck even Fresh Direct was getting into the game, going beyond mere groceries and expanding into personal care products and beauty items. But I wanted NYC Concierge to go beyond that. I was intent on creating a personalized elite delivery service, one where you could order absolutely anything and have it arrive on your doorstep within the hour if possible, no questions asked.
And what set us apart was our technology. Like Uber and Lyft, we were app-driven, you ordered using your cell and we’d provide a countdown ticker to estimate wait time. That way, customers could leave the house, take their dog for a walk and run errands, all without worrying about missing the delivery guy.
And of course, you can request a specific delivery person as well. That’s part of the charm, part of the “elite” aspect. A lot of rich people only want to work with people they already know, and this way we could gain their trust, build bridges before mining the one percenters for more.
But of course, in our beta stage, NYC Concierge was open to everyone, we needed to test this shit, get everything going like clockwork before we restricted our service to the elites. And that’s how the lovely Laurie came to find us, ordering her bottle of shampoo and soaps. NYC Concierge had been doing some select promotions where people of any net worth could use our services, but the program was destined to be short lived at best. It’s not that we didn’t want to deliver shampoo and laundry detergent, that hardly mattered. It was the prices we planned on charging. That’s right, we’re working on a tiered payment system and for our bronze members, the cheapest category, monthly membership would be a flat ten thousand dollars fee. So yeah, this wasn’t going to be a service for just anyone, more like folks who flew in helicopters or had their own private jets.
And in the meantime, fuck but this promotion was the best idea I’d ever had because it’d led me to the juicy virgin, her firm, fine form so succulent and tasty. I leaned back in my chair again, lost in my thoughts. Laurie was fucking amazing and my cock stirred a little just at the mental image of her. A virgin? How often did that happen in NYC? Girls these days lost their v-cards so early, in junior high practically. So to find an adult woman, shy and unassuming, with her hymen intact had been an incredible turn-on, and I was on it in a flash.
And fuck, de-virginizing her had been amazing because the brunette was a slut, hands down. Letting me push my tongue into her ass? Coming hard that way, without any stimulation to her pussy? She was so sensitive, so attuned to my big body that that was all it took, I’d thrust into those sweet folds, feeling her barrier break, her shocked cry and indrawn breath all the proof that I needed that she was truly untouched, a nubile, creaming girl.
And fuck, but I wanted more. Laurie was coming over tomorrow night and I wanted to make it special for her. Of course I was going to devour her again, help myself to a huge heap of tasty twat and ass, but I wanted her to be comfortable, to relax, to reveal the full sweetness of her nature. Every time I looked at her, those big brown eyes danced, her pink pout slightly open, begging me to kiss her. And I was going to, after I inhaled her form, savoring every sweet curve, every sassy jiggle of her plump body. Fuck yeah, I was going to treat this woman well, stop at no lengths to romance her like she deserved.
But my thoughts of tomorrow night were rudely interrupted because Hunter had come striding back, his gaze suspicious.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he asked, waving another sheaf of papers under my nose. “What the fuck? Why did it take you half an hour at this one chick’s place?”
Goddamnit. The technology that was our strength was also a pain in the ass at the moment because of course my cousin knew exactly where I’d been, how long I’d lingered at each stop, how long each delivery took. I growled at him, my hackles rising, but then forced myself to calm the fuck down. No need to let the cat out of the bag, might as well be professional, this was a business after all.
“An old lady asked me to help move some furniture around, so I said yes,” I shrugged casually. “Didn’t look like she had many options.”
Hunter frowned again.
“Wasn’t there a doorman or a super or something? Why you?” he whined. “Tuck, you have shit to do, you know the clock’s always running in this business.”
I just shrugged again.
“Maybe cause she lives five floors up,” I said helpfully. “And there’s no doorman, it’s a pretty run-down place on the Upper East Side.”
Hunter just frowned again. But my cousin is a good guy, he wasn’t going to ream me out for helping little old ladies with no options. So he just huffed again and turned away.
“Well, if this Evelyn Holmes person requests you again, we’re going to say you’re unavailable,” he said tightly. “Time is money in this business and we gotta move fast, roll with the ball.”
I just shrugged again. Hunter could spout whatever shit he wanted but I was still the boss and I was coming and going when and where I wanted, complaints be damned. After all I had even more invested in this business than him. Not only had I poured a fortune into the company as start-up capital, but I was also working as a lowly delivery man to better understand our business, running up and down flights of stairs, humping heavy packages, my baseball cap pulled low the entire time, anonymously delivering shit. After all, it’s critical to explore every niche of our business, know exactly what’s going on and there was no better way to do it than as a stealth boss. To understand what kept our employees up at night, I’d decided to take on the job myself, schlepping up and down all of Manhattan as a nondescript messenger. Only then would NYC Concierge be able to optimize on all fronts, truly push the boundaries of this developing sector, otherwise we’d be manipulating something that management, at its core, did not fundamentally understand. And I’d be damned if I was the boss straight out of Dilbert, giving wedgies with his head in the clouds. So yeah, delivery was our business, and I was the delivery man sometimes.
I shrugged again. Shit had to get done, and Hunter was right in some respects, I’d been spending a lot of time with my special customer. There were reports to read, client data to scrutinize, investors to chat up, endless lists of to-dos that always got pushed to the back. I shook my head, getting serious, flipping on my laptop while turning to focus on my work. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough, I couldn’t wait to taste, to sample Laurie again, but for the rest of today, NYC Concierge was my baby.