EXCLUSIVE NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED ROMANCE

(30k words of STEAMY action)

Description:

I’m a billionaire, damn it. I can buy anything I want: mansions, exotic cars, yachts, companies, women… And I can do anything I want with them. Anything at all! I’m Cameron Shaw, by god. The world belongs to me!

ALEXANDRA HART:

When I graduated from Wharton with an MBA and a mountain of college debt, the last thing I expected was to be offered a job on Wall Street at Shaw Investments, Ltd. The second to last thing I expected was to end up being pursued by Cameron Shaw, the billionaire CEO of the company. He’s old enough to be my father, but I don’t care. This is a man who can buy anything in the world that strikes his fancy. The one thing he can’t buy is my virginity because he doesn’t have to. I’m dying to give him my cherry for free!

CAMERON SHAW:

There’s something about Alexandra Hart that intrigues me… Something my money can’t buy… Something that makes me want to forget that I’m engaged to a super model and set to take over her father’s company after the wedding. That’s just business. This is personal. Alex is special. I can sense it. I can feel the heat of our connection deep inside my bones. I will make her mine, come hell or high water, no matter who gets hurt, even if it means sacrificing everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve. I’m Cameron Shaw. No one tells me no.

* * *

CHAPTER ONE: Alexandra Hart

It was the biggest day of my life. I should have been jumping for joy because I was just minutes away from walking across the stage to accept the MBA degree that had taken me six years and over two-hundred-thousand dollars to earn.

Not only that, I was about to graduate from the Wharton Business School, one of the most prestigious (and the most expensive) Ivy League schools in the country.

In just a few minutes I would join the ranks of alumni like President Donald Trump, Warren Buffet, Elon Musk, and many other captains of industry.

So why wasn’t I jumping for joy?

Because along with my MBA, I’d be leaving Wharton with a mountain of debt that I didn’t know if I could ever pay off. You could buy a house for what I owe in school debt.

Even if I landed a job paying a hundred grand a year, after taxes and living expenses, I’d barely have enough to cover the payment on my student loans. I tried not to think about it because it was a bit overwhelming and I tended to freak out easily.

So, yeah...

Honestly, I didn’t know what I was going to do. I’d dug myself a very deep hole and even with a Wharton MBA, it was going to take forever to fill that hole in.

Don’t get me wrong. I was proud of my accomplishments. I didn’t come from a wealthy family. I came from a middle-class potato-farming family in Twin Falls, Idaho.

“We grow the potatoes the world eats!” my stepdad, Fred, liked to say. Fred had lots of cute sayings about potatoes, but no money saved for my college. I didn’t have a trust fund. I wasn’t showered with honorariums and scholarships. I was on my own.

I’d earned that MBA the old-fashioned way: by working my ass off waiting tables and washing dishes and scrubbing floors and applying for every loan I could find.

My dad died when I was twelve, so I was raised by a single mother who struggled to keep the farm going. Even after she married Fred, there was no money for a college fund for me. They did their best just to survive.

I don’t blame my mom. She did the best with what she had.

And I certainly don’t blame my dad. He was the center of my universe and I was his little potato princess. He even called me “Tater”.

He was a young man when he died, so he hadn’t given much thought to life insurance or college funds. Like most people, he thought he had all the time in the world to take care of his little girl’s future.

He didn’t ask for the heart attack that stole him from me when he was just thirty-five and I was six. I think of him every day and will never stop loving my dad. Someday, I hope to meet and marry a man just like him.

If anyone is to blame for my predicament, it’s me. I’m the one who didn’t focus on getting straight A’s in high school. I’m the one who had the coordination of a one-legged duck and couldn’t excel at sports.

Scholarships were never an option for me in high school, so I buckled down to get my Bachelor’s degree with honors from Pitt, which, along with the recommendation of my state senator whom I’d never met, got me accepted into Wharton, which accepts less than twenty-percent of applicants.

“Alexandra Hart.”

I heard the dean of students call my name and I heard the audience politely applaud, but I didn’t move until the boy behind me gave me a gentle nudge in the back.

With a heart-full of pride and a head-full of fears, I took a deep breath and walked across the stage to accept the degree that would very soon change my life.

* * *

There were several-hundred people gathered in the reception hall after graduation; proud family, friends, professors, and alumni, walking around with little plates of hors d’oeuvres and glasses of wine.

Everyone was laughing and mingling and taking selfies. Well, everyone except Mom and Fred, who stood off to the side of the crowd with my boyfriend Perry Wiggins scotched between them. They were watching the festivities like frightened deer in headlights.

In Twin Falls, Idaho, the biggest event of the year is the annual Potato Festival, which might attract as many as a hundred folks at best. Mom, Fred, and Perry were so out of their element it made me grin.

Fred is a third-generation potato farmer who merged his operation with mom’s when they got married. Perry is Fred’s nephew and right hand man. Perry’s as loyal as an old hound dog and Fred wouldn’t know what to do without him. Perry’s only goal in life is to work in the family business, if you can even call the farm a real business.

I’ve never been able to wrap my head around the concept that digging potatoes out of the ground is an actual business. I mean, I know it’s a business (I have a Wharton MBA, for petesake), but I can’t imagine why anyone would want to spend their entire life on a potato farm.

I spent the first eighteen years of my life there and I have no plan to ever go back. I know, what am I going to tell Perry, who looks at me with those big brown puppy dog eyes and tells me how great our life will be back on the farm. That’s a bridge I’ll have to cross soon, now that I’m finished with school.

“Congratulations!” Mom squealed when she saw me coming through the crowd with my diploma in hand. She threw open her arms and pulled me in for one her famous bear hugs. I swear, Mom could make Hulk Hogan yell, “UNCLE!”

She pulled back to look me in the eye. I could tell that she’d been crying. She said, “I am so proud of you, Alex. Imagine, my little girl graduating from the same school as the president of the United States!”

“Maybe you’ll get to meet Mr. Trump,” Fred said, bubbling with excitement. Mom and Fred were big Trump supporters. Perry, too, of course.

“I doubt that,” I said, giving Fred a hug. Fred was a good man. He’d been a good husband to Mom and a good stepdad to me. He wasn’t my dad and never put himself in that place, but he was a good provider and a good man, so I’m glad he came into our lives.

Perry stood between Mom and Fred with his hands shoved deep in his pockets and a smile on his face that looked like it had been painted on with a wire brush. I’d never seen him look so uncomfortable. He looked like he might explode if he didn’t get back to the farm by midnight.

Perry was a country boy, through and through. He hated being out of his element, which was up to his ankles in dirt and potatoes. He tugged at the necktie Mom had made him wear and wiped sweat from his brow with a cocktail napkin.

He was wearing his “Sunday go to meeting” suit, an ill-fitting blue number he’d purchased at the Men’s Warehouse in Boise. I hoped it looked better on the mannequin than it did on him. The cuffs of the pants rose above his ankles and the sleeves of the jacket were an inch too short. Perry kept tugging on the sleeves in a hopeless attempt to pull them over his boney wrists.

Perry was tall and gangly, with a buzzed head and a skin baked brown from the sun. Mom said it was good that Perry was so dark because I was so Irish-pasty white, with red hair and blue eyes. “You’ll need to marry a man with a tan or your kids might turn out to be pale as ghosts!” Ha ha, very funny, Mom.

Just being at the reception looked painful to Perry, as if someone had stuck tacks in his shoes. Poor Perry. I knew he couldn’t wait to get back home to his dirt and his taters. I also knew he expected me to go with him. Poor, poor Perry.

“So, what’s your plan?” Perry asked, the corners of his mouth twitching in and out of a smile. “You coming home now or what?”

I tried to mask the hurt form my eyes.

There was no, “Congratulations, Alex!”

No, “Way to go, sweetheart!”

There was only, “You coming home now or what?”

Mom and Fred leaned in a little, also eager to hear the answer.

“I’m not sure,” I lied. “I have to wrap things up here before I can even think about going back to Idaho.” I gave his tie a little tug. “Let’s talk about that later at my place.”

I had something very special planned for Perry; something that would make him forget all about Idaho and his beloved potatoes.

The look in Perry’s eyes told me that he knew I was full of shit. He knew how I felt about the farm and the life he wanted me to lead. I never led him on or gave him a promise to return, but I had never told him I wasn’t going back either.

Christ, he’s known me since I was twelve. A day didn’t go by that I didn’t talk about getting the hell off the farm and moving somewhere to start a life that didn’t involve digging potatoes and cleaning the dirt from under my nails.

And now he was standing here on the happiest day of my life asking me when I was coming home.

Perry was either the dumbest man on the planet or the biggest optimist.

Either way, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

CHAPTER TWO: Cameron Shaw

The man with the round spectacles and nervous eyes sitting across my desk was named Irving something or other. Irving was short, fat, bald, and sweating through the pits of the cheap suit he’d chosen to wear to my office on Wall Street.

He was wearing a red bowtie that hung crookedly around his pudgy neck. A bowtie, for Christsake. Only pussies and Harvard grads wear bowties to a meeting like this. I doubted Irving went to Harvard.

Irving was the lawyer representing the minority shareholders of Baby-Co Industries, a company I was about to buy and dismantle.

That’s what I do; I buy companies that are on the verge of bankruptcy or having cash-flow problems, shut down the company, split up the assets, and sell them off for a profit.

Some people call me a corporate raider. I prefer the term “liquidator”.

I’ve been in the liquidation business for twenty years, and it’s made me a billionaire at the age of forty-five.

Irving was telling me that the shareholders didn’t want the company sold and dismantled. They would love my money, but not my involvement.

It was a moot point. I had been quietly buying up the majority shares of stock in Beechwood for nearly a year, which meant the minority shareholders were shit out of luck.

Didn’t they know who I was?

Did they really think sending this little, fat fuck to plead their case would do one iota of good?

I was Cameron Shaw, for Christsake, the founder and CEO of Shaw Investments, Limited, with offices in New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Hong Kong, Paris, London, and Berlin (I quoted that right off our company prospectus).

If I wanted something, be it a woman, a car, a house, an island, or a company; I had the ability to get it and do whatever the fuck I wanted with it.

And I didn’t give a shit what anyone thought or how they were effected by my actions. This wasn’t a popularity contest. Let Warren Buffet and Bill Gates work that side of the fence with all their goody-goody philanthropic bullshit.

Everything I did was driven by the bottom line.

Money made the world go around.

Money could buy everything, including happiness.

I’m not an asshole. I’m a realist.

It wasn’t personal. It was just business.

“So you see, Mr. Shaw,” Irving was saying when I left the daydream I was having about golfing in Scotland and brought my attention back to him. “If you consider the human capital—“

I held up a hand to shut him up. “Mister… what was your name again?”

Irving blinked at me. He nodded at his business card, which he’d set in front of me on the desk when he arrived a few minutes before. He leaned over the desk and put one finger on the card to slide it toward me.

“Kramer,” he said with a frown. “Irving Kramer. As I was saying, if you consider the human capital involved--”

“Mr. Kramer, can I be perfectly honest with you?” I picked up his card and frowned at it for a moment, then tore it in two and set the pieces on the desk. I used a stiff finger to slide the pieces toward him. He stared at the torn card like it was a dead body for a moment, then brought his eyes up to meet mine.

He looked like he’d just shit his pants.

I freakin’ loved it.

“I don’t give a damn about human capital, Mr. Kramer,” I said with a bored sigh. I leaned forward with my elbows on the desk and shook my head at him.

“Baby-Co Industries is a dinosaur. Nobody buys real diapers anymore. It’s all about disposables. Their market share has fallen for ten years in a row. The company bleeds money. The best course for everyone involved is to shut the company down and sell off the assets. The shareholders will get good value for their stock.”

“You’re offering ten cents on the dollar,” Irving said incredulously. A film of sweat now covered his upper lip. His round glasses were fogging up. “The Baby-Co shareholders feel--“

“I’m offering what the company is worth,” I said forcefully. “The shareholders have no choice. It’s a done deal.”

“But what about the workers, Mr. Shaw,” Kramer said. “There are two hundred employees to consider. Many have worked there for decades.”

“They’ll get nice severance checks and find other work,” I said.

His face started to sag, like a man who knew he was beating his head against a brick wall that would never crack. I fucking loved it. He slumped in the chair and let his eyes go around the room. I knew what was coming next. I wasn’t the least bit surprised by his next words.

“We’ll sue,” he said. “We’ll tie you up in court for years.”

“No you won’t,” I said with a smile. “Mr. Kramer, I keep an entire law firm on retainer. A New York law firm, filled with the country’s best lawyers who would chew you up and spit you out for breakfast. Great lawyers who would never wear a fucking bowtie to a business meeting.”

His pudgy fingers went to the tie and lingered there for a moment. “That may be, but…”

I held up the hand again to shut him up. I took a slip of paper and pen from a desk drawer and scribbled on it. I folded the paper and stuffed it into an envelope, then sealed the envelope and sailed it across the desk to him.

“That is my final offer to the minority shareholders,” I said. “Do not open it until you are sitting down with them. Have them consider that offer carefully because it is the last one they will receive before I unleash my legal team. You can let them know that I am making this offer because you’ve done such a stellar job as their attorney. Am I clear?”

He blinked at the envelope for a moment. “Yes, I understand,” he said quietly. His face was ashen and moist. His fingers were still touching the bowtie.

I got out of my chair and offered my right hand to him. That’s what you do when you’ve thoroughly kicked an opponent’s ass so hard he can taste his own shit; you offer them your hand to seal the deal.

He picked up the briefcase that was sitting at his feet and stuck the envelope inside, then pushed himself out of the chair. He stared at my hand for a moment, but turned without shaking it and left my office.

“He was afraid you were going to squeeze the blood out of him.”

Mitchell Ryan, my second in command, had been listening from the sofa across the room. He went to the wet bar and refilled his drink. He held out the decanter of whiskey, but I shook my head.

I wasn’t a big drinker. Alcohol clouds your brain. In my line of work that could be extremely costly.

Mitch drank enough for the both of us, though in twenty years I couldn’t recall ever seeing him truly drunk. Mitch was my age, but looked younger. He was a runner, medium height, lean build, with a nice smile and easygoing demeanor. In that sense, we couldn’t be more different. I’m tall and fit, but my smile doesn’t come out much anymore, and no one who knew me would ever call me easygoing.

Mitch and I have been friends since our days at Wharton Business School. When I started Shaw Investments, I brought him on to be my right hand and we’ve worked together ever since. He calls himself my “social conscience”. That’s a job I wouldn’t recommend to anyone.

“So, let me guess what you wrote on that slip of paper as your final offer,” Mitch said as he came to sit in the chair Irving had just vacated. He took a sip of whiskey and gave me a thoughtful look. “Let’s see, knowing you as I do, I imagine you wrote the words ‘fuck you’.”

“Actually, it was ‘fuck you’ with a dollar sign at the beginning,” I said with a smile. Mitch did indeed know me well. “Wish I could be there when he opens the envelope and reads it to the shareholders.”

Mitch gave me a little smile and slowly shook his head. I could never tell if he was amused or baffled by me. Since I paid him ten million dollars a year to do my bidding, I assumed it was a little of both.

“Have legal get the paperwork ready,” I said. “I have a feeling that our offer will be accepted by the end of the day.”

“Will do.” Mitch finished his drink and left the glass on the wet bar as he walked out of the office.

I leaned back in the chair with my fingers laced behind my head. I swiveled the chair to face the wall of windows that looked out over the New York City skyline from fifty stories up.

I stared at the bright blue sky beyond the tinted windows and ran the numbers in my head. After the dust settled, I would net thirty-million dollars from the Baby-Co deal.

You would think that I would be the happiest guy on the planet.

That’s what I would think, too, if I didn’t know better.

I’ve always said that money can buy anything, even happiness.

Now I’m starting to wonder if I was wrong.

CHAPTER THREE: Alexandra

To say that last night did not go as planned would be an understatement. And it’s all my fault. I should have known better than to throw myself at Perry like that. Perry’s a sweet, innocent guy. Even though we’ve been together for years now, he’s never tried to do anything more than kiss me.

Maybe that’s why, when I came out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a smile, Perry looked like he was going to have a heart attack!

I’ll never forget the night I grabbed his hand and forced it onto my boob while we were parking in his old truck after the senior prom. He started kneading my boob like it was a clump of dough he was molding into a pie crust.

Clearly, he didn’t know what to do with my breast, so I thought I should take the initiative. I grabbed his cock and he immediately shot a load in his pants.

Perry jumped out of the truck like his hair was on fire and nearly fainted when he saw the big stain on the front of his white tux pants he’d rented for the prom.

“Jesus, Alex, what are you doing?” he snapped at me. He looked down at himself with a look of horror, as if the front of his pants were covered in blood rather than jizz.

He jumped back in the truck and took me home without another word. We never spoke about that night, nor did he ever touch by boob or let me near his cock again.

“When we get married we’ll do all that stuff,” he would say to pacify me. “We both took that celibacy oath at church, remember? It wouldn’t be right if we broke our vows before we got married. What would the folks at church say if they knew we did what you’re wanting us to do?”

I wanted to say, “Fuck the people at church because I guarantee that they’re all fucking!” I wanted to say it, but I didn’t. I just pressed my thighs together and willed the desire to go away.

Coming out of the bathroom naked was all part of my stupid goal to lose my virginity on the same day I got my MBA. It was a stupid plan. I can see that now. I should have known that Perry would be horrified. Damn it, what was I thinking?

What little I know about sex I’ve learned from dirty romance novels and dirty movies I’ve watched online. I called it doing research. Others would probably call it foreplay.

I’m still a virgin, but I’m no slut. I only considered giving my virginity to Perry because I felt like I owed him something. He’d been waiting for me to come home and marry him for years. Now that he knew that wasn’t going to happen, the least I could do was give him something to remember me by.

Not to mention that being a virgin is hard, and not in a good way. I have the same urges and desires of other girls my age. And I wouldn’t be averse to doing “stuff” with guys, if the right guy came along.

I started “diddling” myself in the shower when I was a teenager, and now I do it sometimes at night before I go to bed or while I’m watching a dirty movie. I know. It’s pathetic. I’m twenty-four years old and the only orgasms I’ve had were by my own hand. If I ever got in an accident and lost my hands, I’d be screwed, again, not in a good way.

Anyway, Perry and I came back to my tiny apartment after seeing Mom and Fred off at the airport. Perry was scheduled to fly out the next day. I convinced him that he should spend the night with me. I’m not sure what he thought that meant, but as I said, things did not go as planned.

Perry was sitting on my ratty couch watching my little TV when I ducked into the bathroom and took off all my clothes. I took a quick shower because I wanted to be fresh for him.

I soaped up my body and rinsed off, then spent a good minute lathering up my tits and pussy. My pubes were trimmed short. I had thought earlier about shaving my cunt, then decided that would really freak Perry out.

My clit throbbed as the soap slid over it and my pussy tensed as my fingers tucked inside me to make sure I was good and clean. For a moment, I thought about making myself cum right then and there, but thought better of it. I wanted Perry to make me cum tonight. I would handle the job myself tomorrow.

I took the handheld sprayer and rinsed off my cunt. I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing as the jets beat hot water against my clit and pussy lips. It felt so amazingly good.

I leaned back against the shower wall and spread my legs and bent my knees. I brought the spray head an inch from my pussy and moved it up and down so the jets could pelt from my anus to my clit. The moment the jets hammered into my opening I knew my plan to abstain was going to hell. I started cumming and couldn’t seem to stop. The water kept pounding my clit and my juices kept flowing. I had to brace my free hand against the shower wall to keep from falling.

It was only after the shudders stopped rumbling through my body that I realized that I must have made one hell of a noise. I was panting like a dog and I was pretty sure I screamed when I came. Shit! I rinsed myself off again and stepped out of the shower.

My juices were still flowing as I wrapped myself in a towel and stared at the bathroom door. It was now or never. Perry was either going to fuck me or run back to the potato farm where he belonged.

* * *

You already know what happened.

I came out of the bathroom stark naked and stood there looking at him. Perry had a look on his face like he’d just spotted Big Foot. His eyes swept over my body, across my full, natural tits with the pink areolas and big nipples, down my stomach to the patch of curly red hair above my clit. I tried to strike a seductive pose, as if I even knew what that looked like. I decided to try a line I’d heard in one of the dirty movies I’d seen.

“See anything you like, big boy?” I asked, taking a step closer. “See anything you’d like to taste?” I cupped my tits in my palms and tweaked my nipples between my thumbs and forefingers.

Perry literally jumped off the couch, grabbed his crotch, and without another word, ran out the door. I’m serious. He literally ran out the fucking door, leaving me standing there with juices dripping out of my cooch and my hands on my own tits.

I stood there for a moment, unsure of what the hell had just happened. I squeezed my thighs together so I wouldn’t drip on the rug. When it was clear that Perry wasn’t coming back, I went back into the shower and turned on the hot water.

I stepped into the shower and picked up the sprayer, ready to finish what I had started.

Fuck you, Perry, I thought.

Say hello to my little friend.

CHAPTER FOUR: Alexandra

I slept like a rock. Maybe it was the fact that my subconscious knew that I didn’t have to get to class today (or ever again).

Or that I wasn’t due back at my job waiting tables until Monday night.

Or that I spent two hours watching dirty movies and diddling myself crazy before going to sleep.

I can’t explain it, but exposing myself to Perry like that just got me horny as hell. It was probably a good thing he left because as horny as I was, I probably would have embarrassed us both. Like I said, I’m not a sex-crazed slut. I’ve just been holding these desires inside for so long that now it feels like my body will burst if I don’t set them free.

In fact, since I was already naked and had nowhere I had to be and nothing I had to do, I might as well just rub my tits a little bit and…

Just as my hand was sliding from my tits to my clit my cellphone on the nightstand buzzed.

“Shit.” I rolled toward the edge of the bed and picked up the phone and looked at the screen. The caller ID read “Shaw Investments”. My heart literally stopped in my chest. Shaw Investments was a huge New York City investment firm, one of dozens I had sent my resume to months before graduating.

I pushed the hair out of my eyes as I sat up in bed. I cleared the sleep from my throat and in the most profession voice I could muster, said, “Alexandra Hart.”

I’d learned in B-school to never answer the phone with “hello” or “hey” or “what”. Be professional, the professor said. You never know who is calling. This was the same professor that warned against posting drunk pictures on Facebook because that shit follows you forever.

“Miss Shaw, this is Betty Garrett, I’m the assistant HR director for Shaw Investments, Limited in New York City. How are you today?”

I almost said I’m exhausted from diddling myself. My brain kicked in at the last moment and I replied, “I’m excellent, Ms. Garrett. How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you. The reason I’m calling is, you submitted a resume a few months ago and met with one of our campus recruiters at Wharton.”

“Yes, yes, I did.” I bit my tongue and tried to breathe. This phone call could change my life. I didn’t need to screw things up by sounding like an eager country bumpkin.

“And I believe you just graduated from Wharton with honors. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” I said with a sigh. “It’s a relief to—“

“I’m happy to tell you, Miss Shaw, that based on that interview and your near-perfect grade point, we’d like to offer you a position here at Shaw.”

“You would?”

“We would.”

I silently thrust my hands in the air and screamed at the top of my lungs. When I brought the phone back to my ear, she was still talking.

“The position is as a Junior Analyst in our New York City office,” she was saying. “The starting salary is $85,000 with performance bonuses and the opportunity for advancement.”

I silently mouthed the words, holy shit…

“You’d need to report for a work a week from today if possible. If that works for you, I’ll email you the offer letter and other paperwork to get the process started.”

“Um, yes, of course, that would be awesome.” Shit, professional people don’t say awesome. She droned on for a few minutes about their 401k, the vacation and sick leave, and other benefits that I didn’t give a crap about at that moment.

I had been offered a job at one of the most prestigious firms on Wall Street. I would have paid them to work there. Of course, I didn’t tell the HR lady that.

I gave her my email address, thanked her profusely, and hung up the phone. I fell back on the pillows with a goofy smile on my face. I was a Wharton MBA and in a week, I’d be a Junior Analyst at Shaw Investments, Limited in fucking New York City.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

I was being offered the chance of a lifetime.

I would do my best to not fuck it up.

* * *

When I called Mom to tell her that I had gotten the job at Shaw Investments, she congratulated me, then asked where I’d be living in New York City.

Holy shit. I hadn’t even thought about that. I’d just accepted my dream job in the most crowded, expensive city in the country, and I had no idea where I would live. Not a small problem to have…

Nearly in a panic, I called the HR lady at Shaw and learned that they had an in-house roommate-matching service and could help me find a place to live for the first six months. Obviously, they knew how difficult it was to find housing in New York, so they set up the service primarily to assist their new recruits.

She called me back with good news. She had found a place for me to live, in a building owned by Shaw, in a two-bedroom apartment with a second-year Junior Analyst named Veronica Rodriguez.

Halleluiah!

The planets aligned and a few days later, I was on my way to the Big Apple and the next leg of my journey to… wherever!

Woohoo!!!!

Look our world, here I come!

CHAPTER FIVE: Alex

I arrived in New York City on Saturday afternoon and took an expensive cab ride from the airport to the little apartment in the West Village that I would be sharing with my new roommate, Veronica, whom I knew absolutely nothing about.

The HR lady at Shaw had hooked us up and we’d had a brief phone conversation, but other than that, I knew nothing about her.

She sounded nice, was very chatty and promised to dish up all the dirt on Shaw. She told me to call her “Vee” and she would call me “Alex”.

Veronica met me at the door with a smile on her face and little else on. She was wearing a black lacy bra and matching thong. She was holding a makeup brush in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

“You must be Alex,” she said with a smile. “I thought you were my date. Come on in.”

“You always meet your date at the door dressed like that?” I asked with a grin.

“Depends on the date,” she said, laughing. Veronica was beautiful, with dark Latino skin, coal black hair, and big boobs that bounced in the bra as she waved me inside. I couldn’t help but stare. Vee was hot! I’m sorry, I know that makes me sound like a lesbian, but there was no other word for it. H. O. T. Hot!

She was short, but super-curvy with a big butt, like a Kardashian. She had big cat eyes and plump lips and perfect teeth. I was immediately jealous. Standing next to Vee, I looked like a twelve-year-old Irish boy.

I dragged my two suitcases inside and Vee shut the door and twisted the three padlocks that kept the world at bay. I looked around the tiny apartment.

The living room and tiny kitchen were all one area. There was just enough room for a couch and chair, a coffee table, and a stand that held a small television.

The kitchen was barely big enough for one person to move around in. I saw a refrigerator, coffee pot, and microwave, my three favorite appliances, so all was good.

Vee used both hands to pick up one of the suitcases and started lugging it toward the bedroom.

“I’m running really late,” she said with the makeup brush between her teeth. “I’ll show you your room and you can settle in. We can get better acquainted tomorrow night when I get home.”

“You won’t be home until tomorrow?” I asked.

She gave me a sly grin. “Like I said, depends on the date.”

I smiled at her. She seemed so free-spirited, so open about things. I could learn a lot living with a girl like Vee, I thought. She’d not only bring me out of my shell. She’d crack that sucker open and drag me out.

“The bathroom is at the end,” she said, nodding down the short hallway that had three doors. “My room is on the left and yours is on the right.”

She kicked open the door with her bare toe and dragged the suitcase inside. She stood aside to give me room to enter.

My bedroom was just large enough for the bed and a small dresser. There was a closet with no door, and wire hangers dangling from a rod. It wouldn’t hold half of my clothes, but I’d make due.

Vee turned and gave me a hug. “Welcome to the big city, girlfriend. You’re gonna fucking love it here.”

* * *

True to her word, Vee didn’t get home until late Sunday night. I was already in bed by the time she came in. She stuck her head in the bedroom door and apologized for being late.

“Tomorrow’s your first day,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at me. “Are you nervous?”

“I’m a wreck,” I said, leaning up on my elbows.

“You’ll be fine,” she said with a nod. “We’ll ride in together and I’ll show you around. We need to leave her by seven to catch the subway downtown, so get some sleep and get up in plenty of time.”

“I will, thanks.” I eased back down on the pillow. She teetered in the doorway as she left. I could tell that she was a little drunk and couldn’t help but wonder what she’d been up to all weekend. She was still wearing the same clothes she’d left the apartment in the night before. Her makeup was smudged and her hair disheveled. I was dying to hear the details of her date because I had a feeling it would be great fodder for my dirty dreams.

She said good night and stumbled into her room across the hall. I tossed and turned for a while, and then finally fell asleep around two or three.

I was a nervous wreck, knowing that I would start my career at Shaw Investments in just a few hours.

CHAPTER SIX: Cameron

One of the few people who could burst into my office unannounced without the fear of getting their head ripped off was Monique Ells. Monique was the former Victoria’s Secret runway model and New York socialite who also happened to be my fiancé.

Her father was Sebastian Ells, head of one of the largest hedge fund firms on Wall Street. I was worth around five billion dollars. Sebastian was worth fifty billion, which was one reason why I had agreed to marry his daughter. I was marrying the king’s daughter. It was my way into becoming the head of the Ells empire.

I was marrying Monique was because her old man agreed to turn the hedge fund over to me on our one year anniversary. Ours was strictly a business arrangement. Monique knew it, I knew it, and her father knew it. It was just business.

It helped that Monique was drop-dead gorgeous and had a body to die for; not to mention that she was a freaking acrobat in bed. Great sex was a perk of the package, though, if truth be told, I was getting a little tired of Monique.

She was the most-narcissistic person I’d ever met; even more narcissistic than me, if you can imagine that. Monique believes that the known universe revolves around her and in many ways, it does.

People have fawned over, and given over, to Monique her entire life. Especially men, who would give their last dime just to touch the soft skin that I regularly shot loads on. Monique was like the sun that warmed you and made you feel all good inside until her rays started to sear your skin.

On this Monday morning, she breezed through the office door with one of the security guards behind her, lugging a stack of thick books of some kind. Considering we were on the fiftieth floor, it was no wonder the guy was red-faced and sweating.

“Just put them on the coffee table,” Monique ordered with the wave of her hand. She came around the desk and kissed me on the cheek. She smelled like the perfume that carried her name; a mix of orange blossoms and arrogance.

“What’s all this?” I asked.

“We have to look at place settings and swatches,” Monique said with a sigh, as if the task of planning our wedding was as exhausting as digging ditched. She noticed the guard was standing next to the heavy books he’d just set down with his hands at his sides and fingers wiggling. Monique frowned at him as if he were a pack mule that had the nerve to ask for water after lugging her goods up the side of the mountain.

“What?” she snapped at the man. “You can go.”

“Hang on,” I said, giving her a frown that made her roll her eyes. I came around the desk and fished a twenty-dollar bill out of my pocket. I gave it to the guard and ushered him out.

“Do you have to tip your own employees?” she asked.

“Do you have to be so nasty?” I asked, closing the door.

She scoffed. “That’s rich, coming from the nastiest man on Wall Street.”

“Your father holds that title,” I said. “Though I run a close second.”

I smiled as I went to the wet bar and poured myself a cup of coffee. I knew better than to offer Monique a cup. She was a health nut and wouldn’t let anything with caffeine enter her pristine body. Yet she drank like a fish and probably had a bag of pot and pills in her purse.

That was Monique; a beautiful mystery wrapped in a sexy conundrum, always on the verge of a temper tantrum that would instill fear into the hearts of even the strongest of men.

She was a sexy bitch. And she knew it. We were well-matched in that regard.

Sometimes I wondered if I could really spend my life with such a woman. Then I remembered that I only had to spend one year pretending to be her husband, then my lawyers would unravel the deal and the Ells empire would be mine with no strings or commitments.

Monique sat on the sofa and patted the cushion beside her. I sat down and sipped my coffee while she rambled on about our wedding in two months. I did my best to seem interested. It was hard. I’d told her over and over, just give me the time and location and I’ll be there. She did not find my lack of interest in our impending nuptials amusing.

She talked for nearly half an hour about the one-of-a-kind gown that Vera Wang was designing for her. She talked about the thousand people on the guest list and how difficult it was trying to figure out who to sit next to whom. She talked about the food and the cake and the décor and blah, blah, blah.

Finally, she looked at me with her beautiful eyebrows lifted and asked, “Well? What do you think?”

I had finished my coffee, so I returned the cup to the wet bar and moved to sit behind the desk. “I think you have everything well in hand, and since my opinion has never counted before and I don’t expect it to now, I think whatever you want is fine.”

She glared at me, her green eyes like fiery emeralds. “Did you even hear a word I said?”

“Of course,” I said with a shrug. I opened my laptop and tapped the spacebar to wake it up. “I heard every word. It’s going to be the wedding of the century. A thousand guests. Selling the photos to People Magazine. No expense spared. I’m sure your father wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She stood across the desk with her hands on her hips and a pout on her face. Even at nine on Monday morning, she looked like she’d just come from a fashion shoot.

Here long black hair draped across her shoulders so perfectly you would have thought a stylist had carefully put every hair in place. She was one of the most beautiful women on the planet, with big green eyes and plump lips and a body that would have made the Kardashians jealous.

She was wearing a skintight black mini-dress that zipped up the front. Her perfect, perky boobs pressed against the fabric. I could see the outline of her nipples. Dammit. She caught me looking. It was like locking eyes with a pit bull. She smelled the fear. She knew she was in control. Shit.

“Why are you in such a foul mood?” she asked, batting her long lashes at me. “I thought you took the weekend off to go sailing with Mitchell in the Hamptons.”

“I did,” I sighed. “It was very relaxing.”

“So why are you so tense this morning? What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing’s going on with me,” I said. “I just don’t see the need for me to be involved in your wedding plans.”

“Our wedding plans,” she said, putting a hurt face on. I say that because Monique seemed to have a collection of masks she used as facial expressions. Perhaps it came from being a model all those years. Okay, frown! Smile! Pout! Let’s see anger! I get that one a lot.

I thought that if I looked like I had things to do, Monique would just go away. I was in no mood to argue with her. I turned to the laptop and clicked to log on to the company network and pulled up my calendar for the day. I had a new employee orientation in twenty minutes. Thank god, a reason to escape.

“Cameron, look at me.”

“Monique, really, I have a million things to do.”

“Cameron. Look at me.” Her voice was soft, inviting, like the low hiss of a cobra hypnotizing its prey. I knew what was coming next. Resistance was futile. There were worse ways to begin the week, I supposed, than by having sex with a Victoria’s Secret model in my office.

I leaned back in the chair and swiveled to face her. She was standing on the other side of the desk smiling at me. She put her fingers on the zipper and slowly tugged it down until her perfect breasts popped free. They were beautiful. Full, round, perky, with dark areolas and thick nipples that made me subconsciously lick my lips.

The zipper came down past her belly button. She paused there for a moment. I looked up into her eyes. She knew she had me. She smiled and pulled the zipper down until the dress came free. Her pussy was shaved clean. Her clit was large, like my little finger. She pressed it to the edge of the desk and moaned at me.

“You just need to relax,” she said, letting the dress slide down her arms to the floor. She sauntered to the door and twisted the lock, then came around the desk and pushed me back.

“Monique, really…” I don’t know why I tried to resist as she tugged loose my tie and unbuttoned my shirt. My cock was throbbing in my pants for her. I didn’t love Monique any more than she loved me, but our relationship wasn’t about love. It was about money and power and control. And sex. Amazing, out of this world, great fucking sex.

I started breathing heavy. Monique was licking her lips. She pressed her mouth to mine as she tore open my shirt. Her hands squeezed my chest. Her fingers found my nipples and she tweaked them hard. I moaned at the wonderful pain.

My hands went to her tits, hanging from her chest like bulbous fruit from a tree. I massaged her tits and brushed my fingers over her long nipples. She moaned into my mouth.

Her fingers made short work of my belt buckle. Quickly, my pants were down and my cock was out. It was so hard it hurt. It felt like the muscles of my cock were about to split the skin.

When Monique took my cock in her hand and got to her knees in front of me, I thought I would blow my load all over both of us.

I closed my eyes as Monique’s perfect lips went around the head of my cock. She once told me that she learned how to give head from a French model she did runway shows with. She also told me the model taught her how to eat pussy. That’s a talent I’ve yet to see her display. Someday, perhaps. Someday.

She held the base of my cock between her hands and swirled her tongue around the head. It blossomed and turned purple for her. She flicked her tongue under the head, along the slit, knowing that it would drive me fucking wild.

Her right hand started sliding up and down the shaft. She started bobbing her mouth up and down, covering my cock and her hand with spit. She pulled her lips back and pumped with her hand until all ten inches of my cock looked like it was primed and ready to blow. She gave me a smile. She had me. She knew it. Damn her.

She got to her feet and turned around and wiggled her big ass at me. I dug my fingers into her cheeks as she reached down and held my cock steady. She lowered her pussy onto my cock until it disappeared inside her. I put my hands on her hips and set the motion of rocking her up and down, up and down, slamming her perfect pussy onto my throbbing cock.

It didn’t take long. Within seconds, I felt my balls tighten and the cum flowing up the shaft and shooting into her hot box.

Monique was bouncing up and down on my cock like a twerking stripper, impaling me fully into her pussy with every down stroke.

She started to scream, but I put a hand over her mouth to stifle her. We came together in a great wave that sent shudders raging through both our bodies.

Monique collapsed back on me with my cock still inside her. I put my arms around her and my hands on her tits. She lay her head back on my shoulder. She put her lips to my ear and asked, “Better?”

Before I could reply, the intercom on the desk beeped and my secretary Robin’s voice came across. “Um, Mr. Shaw, you have an employee orientation in five minutes.”

“I have to go,” I said, running my tongue along her ear.

“Such a pity,” she said, wiggling her ass against my deflated cock. “I was just getting started.”

She reluctantly pushed herself off me and picked up her dress and carried it with her to the private bathroom attached to my office.

She closed and locked the door.

I heard the shower come on and knew that she was not going to come out anytime soon.

If I wanted to clean myself off, I’d have to do it elsewhere.

I was left sitting there with a cum-soaked cock and the feeling that I was losing control of my life.

I wasn’t in the mood to greet a bunch of new employees, but I had no choice.

I cleaned myself off with a wet cloth at the bar, stuffed myself back into my pants, and headed out the door.

CHAPTER SEVEN: Cameron

I fucking hated new employee orientations. Normally, Mitch handled this kind of crap, but he was still at my house in the Hamptons negotiating the purchase of some real estate there that I was interested in.

He thinks it’s important that someone from upper management show up to welcome new employees coming into the company once a month. He says it’s good for moral. I think he does it just so he can troll for new pussy. Mitch is a bit of a cock hound, if you know what I mean. His cock is always sniffing around for pussy like a hound dog on the scent of a fox.

I avoided the stare of my secretary as I breezed out of my office still putting myself back together. I knew that she knew what had just happened. More than once, I’d caught her with her ear to my door. And if I hadn’t slapped a hand over Monique’s mouth when she came, the entire fiftieth floor would have known what we were doing.

I checked my reflection in the mirrored elevator doors as I rode down to HR on the tenth floor. This was my private elevator. It was small, but had no security cameras and was accessible by only me. I’d fucked Monique and a dozen other women in here. The mirrored walls made it quite interesting until they fogged over from our hot breath.

I glanced at my watch. With any luck, this wouldn’t take more than a few minutes and I could get back to work. Hopefully by the time I got back to my office, Monique would be gone.

* * *

“I’d like to welcome you all to Shaw Investments,” the woman from HR was saying as I quietly slipped into the back of the room. I acknowledged her with a nod and she gave me a nervous smile, like a rabbit that had just spotted a wolf across the field.

Good, that’s what my presence was supposed to do.

Most of my employees looked like frightened rabbits when I came into the room. It was commonly known that I ran a tight ship. The work place was no place for horseplay or bullshit. I’m paying people good money to do their jobs, not hang out at the water cooler and make friends.

The HR woman was going on and on about our wonderful 401k program (you’re welcome) and benefits package. I leaned back against the wall and counted twenty new hires in the group. Shaw was growing like wildfire, and once I merged with Sebastian Ell’s company, we’d be one of the biggest investment companies on Wall Street. And I would be at the helm as CEO after Sebastian retired, which he promised to do on the one year anniversary of my marriage to his daughter. My lawyers would hold the old bastard to it.

I wasn’t giving up my freedom because Monique was the best fuck in Manhattan. I could get pussy anytime I wanted it. Hell, I could screw every girl in the room right now, but that’s not what cranked my tractor, as they say. I was all about the business of making money and building an empire.

A homeless guy could find a woman to fuck him, but it took a giant to build the legacy I had planned.

The new employees were sitting in rows of chairs with their eyes fixed on the PowerPoint that outlined the bonus system we had in place for Junior Analysts.

We paid them shit to start, just eighty-five-grand or so, which was barely poverty wages in New York City. But if they worked their asses off eighty hours a week and gave every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears their body could muster for a few years, they just might end up rich.

To a twenty-five year with an MBA and a shit load of school debt, that was music to their ears.

I glanced at my watch again and shot the HR rep a hard look. If she didn’t wrap this shit up soon, she’d be looking for a job by the end of the day.

I was about to interrupt her when my eye caught a red head sitting in the back row looking over her shoulder at me. For a second, I nearly came unglued and almost screamed at her to pay fucking attention, but then something odd happened. She smiled at me. It wasn’t a frightened smile or a flirty smile. It was just a nice, easy smile. I was a little taken aback by the effect it had on me. It made me feel… good. Nobody smiled at me like that. At least nobody had for a very long time.

“Now, I’d like to introduce you to the man who makes all this possible,” the HR rep was saying. I heard her words, but my attention was transfixed on the smiling girl, who had already looked away.

“Please give a warm round of applause to the founder and CEO of Shaw Investments, Limited. Mr. Cameron Shaw!”

The HR lady clapped like her hands were on fire and held out her arms to beckon me like we were old friends. I stood there mesmerized for a moment, then realized that everyone had gotten to their feet and were staring at me, clapping their hands. I pushed myself off the wall, mustered my best modest smile, and walked to the front of the room.

“Thank you…” shit, what was her name…

“Betty,” she said quietly. Her face sagged, as if she’d just spun the wheel of fortune and hit a zero.

“Yes, of course, thank you, Betty,” I said. She went to sit in a chair on the back row and I turned to the group and held out my hands to welcome them.

My eyes drifted across their smiling faces and came to rest on the girl who had smiled at me. She was smiling at me again with a sparkle in her eye. There was a look of great expectation on her pretty face, as if she was watching a magician about to pull a rabbit out of his hat.

I didn’t have a rabbit in my hat, but I had something else I’d certainly love to show her in my pants.

Something that would be very glad to see her, indeed.

CHAPTER EIGHT: Alex

I caught a glimpse of him over my shoulder, the man in the tailored suit who had slipped quietly into the meeting. He was gorgeous; tall and fit, with black hair that he wore slicked back from his handsome face. There were wisps of grey stemming from his temples. His skin was tanned, as if he’d just spent time in the sun. He had crystal blue eyes and when he caught me smiling at him, he smiled back. His teeth were white and perfect. When our eyes met, I felt a little twinge between my legs.

I wondered who he was, then the HR lady told us to welcome Shaw Investments founder and CEO, Cameron Shaw. I looked back over my shoulder to see the man I’d been making eyes at moving to the front of the room. Holy shit. I had been making eyes at Cameron Shaw. Crap, what was I thinking?

Cameron Shaw stood at the front of the room with his hands clasped in front of him and a welcoming smile on his face. The girl sitting next to me bumped my knee with hers and gave me an “oh my God” face. I gave her a nod and glued my eyes on the hot, sexy man who would be signing my paychecks, hopefully for many years to come.

“First of all, I’d like to welcome you all to Shaw Investments,” he said, holding out his hands and letting his eyes go around the room. I didn’t know what I would do if he looked at me. Shit. He’s looking at me. Shit. Make him stop. Shit.

He smiled at me and I felt my body relax, as if he’d wrapped me in a warm blanket that let me know it was okay. I licked my lips as our eyes met. I didn’t mean to. I know what signal that sends to a guy, but I couldn’t help it. Damn it, my mouth was dry.

I realized that I was breathing through my mouth like a dog panting for water. After a moment, he let his eyes trail away from mine and I felt my entire body give a huge sigh. I squirmed in the chair, realizing that the crotch of my cotton panties was soaked.

He was talking. His voice was deep, like a speaker with the bass turned up. I found myself wondering what it would be like to hear his voice whisper my name in my ear. Shit. Stop it, Alex! You’re not in college and he’s not a professor to fantasize about. He’s freakin’ Cameron Shaw, the billionaire, your boss!

Focus, dammit, focus…

“We hire only the best of the best here at Shaw,” he said, his handsome face turning serious. “I look forward to meeting all of you and learning more about you.”

I wondered how old he was. I wondered if he liked younger women. I wondered if he was married.

“Miss?”

The girl next to me bumped my knee again. I blinked myself out of the daydream and frowned at her. She had a look of panic on her face. She nodded toward the front of the room. I turned to see Cameron Shaw, and everyone else in the room, staring at me.

“Um, I’m sorry?” I muttered.

He smiled. “I asked your name.”

“Oh, um, Alex,” I managed to say. I tried to swallow, but my mouth had gone bone dry. I tried to think, but my mind was still writhing in the gutter.

He smiled again. “Do you have a last name, Alex?”

The room gave a nervous chuckle. I glanced down at the HR lady sitting at the other end of the row. She was glaring at me in disbelief. She’d probably never had an employee get fired so fast.

“I’m sorry,” I finally managed to say. I got to my feet and cleared my throat. I wasn’t going to be fired on my first day because my brain couldn’t keep itself out of the gutter.

In a strong voice, I said, “My name is Alexandra Hart. I have an MBA from Wharton just like you.” I didn’t realize how stupid it sounded until after I said it. My confidence crumbled and I felt my knees starting to shake. I lowered myself back into the chair and for a moment, thought about crawling under it. Maybe going back home to Idaho wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Well, welcome Alexandra Hart,” he said, his smile fading, as if he was more annoyed than amused by my ridiculous display. Either way, the look on the HR lady’s face told me my Wharton degree wasn’t going to save me now.

I had no idea what he said next. I think it was something about working hard and being rewarded for it. I just sat with my head down and clapped when everyone else did. When I looked up, the older man of my dreams was already gone.

CHAPTER NINE: Cameron

I crooked a finger at what’s her name from HR and she followed me into the hallway. She had the look of a prisoner about to face a firing squad. She stuttered at me. “Mr. Shaw, I am so sorry. I have no idea what she was thinking.”

“It’s fine,” I said, holding up my hands to placate her. “She was just nervous, I’m sure. Not a big deal.”

She blinked at me. “Really?”

“Really,” I said with a nod. “In fact, I’d like to see her file if you have it with you.”

She blinked at me again. Christ, this woman blinked a lot. “Her file?”

“Yes, her personnel file,” I said. “Do you have it with you?”

“Um, no, it’s in my office,” she said with a frown. “I can have it sent to your office if you like.”

“That would be great,” I said. “I’d like to see everything you have on her. School records, resume, the works.”

She blinked again. Jesus, did this woman need glasses? She asked, “May I ask why?”

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Miss… whatever, do you like working here?”

She didn’t blink at that one. Her eyes grew as wide as saucers. “Yes, Mr. Shaw.”

“Get Alexandra Hart’s file to my office,” I said. “Now.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Shaw. Right away.”

I watched her wobble away on shaky legs, as if she’d just gotten off a harrowing ride and was now looking for a place to puke.

I smiled all the back to the fiftieth floor.

God, it was good to be me.

CHAPTER TEN: Alex

I left the employee orientation in a daze. I didn’t know what I was thinking. I was daydreaming about how freakin’ dreamy Cameron Shaw was instead of paying attention to the man himself trying to talk to me.

I knew I had screwed the pooch when the HR lady called my name. I was at the back of the group of new employees, headed to our next point of orientation. I turned to see her heading my way with her face twisted into a scowl.

“Miss Hart,” she said, teeth gnashing like a mad dog chewing on a bone. “What were you thinking? Do you have any idea how irate Mr. Shaw is right now? And it’s your fault! I’ll be shocked if he doesn’t order me to fire you!”

I winced at her hot breath in my face. “I’m really sorry, Miss, um, Betty, was it?” I tried to smile, but my face would not cooperate. “I’m not sure what happened. I mean, I just had a total brain fart and …”

“Do you think this is funny?” she asked. She put her hands on her plump hips and shook a stubby finger at me. “Mr. Shaw wants me to send your personnel file to his office. Do you know what that means?”

I didn’t know what it meant, but I had a pretty good idea. It didn’t matter because she looked like she was busting at the seams to tell me what it meant. She said, “It means that you shouldn’t get too comfortable being here.”

“Oh.” It was a stupid response, but it was all I could come up with. Oh. As in, oh, I’ve invested two-hundred-grand in a Wharton MBA that I can’t use at Shaw because I acted like a silly schoolgirl when Cameron Shaw spoke to me. Or, oh, what the fuck have I done?

She glared at me with a smirk on her face. I’m not sure why she was enjoying this so much, but I didn’t dare ask. She said, “I have to get back to work. You catch up with the rest of the orientation group. I will let you know when Mr. Shaw makes his decision.”

“His decision?”

She gave me the look I give the kid at the ice cream shop when he asks if I want one scoop or two. What a stupid question to ask. Two, of course.

She lifted her chin and looked down her nose at me, “Yes, I’m sure that once he reviews your personnel file he’ll decide whether you should remain at Shaw. You’d better pray that your Wharton MBA impresses him more than you did in person. Now, I have to get to work. Thank you for ruining what had begun as a very nice day.”

She huffed at me once more for good measure, then turned to walk away, leaving me standing there with my severed head in my hands (you know, after she bit it off and spat it out I couldn’t just leave it lying on the floor). I fought back the urge to cry and went off to find Vee. We hadn’t known each other long, but at that moment I desperately needed to see a friendly face.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Cameron

The woman from HR personally delivered Alexandra Hart’s personnel file to my office. My secretary, Robin, took the file and delivered it to me with a questioning look on her face.

“HR just dropped this off,” Robin said as she walked into my office with the file in her hand. She read the name on the folder label. “Alexandra Hart?”

“That’s her name,” I said, taking the file and slipping it into a desk drawer. “A recent Wharton grad. What’s her name from HR suggested I look at her for the Hamptons project.”

“What’s her name from HR suggested it,” she said with one eyebrow raised.

I shrugged at her. “Yes, so what.”

“Nothing,” she said, rolling her eyes as she walked away. She turned back before going out the door. “By the way, Miss Ells left quite a mess in your bathroom. Water everywhere. Wet towels on the floor. I’ve called housekeeping to clean it up. Be careful if you go in there. Don’t slip up.”

“Thank you, Robin,” I said, understanding the true meaning of her words. “I’ll be very careful not to slip up. You can go now.”

“Very good, Mr. Shaw,” she said with a smile.

I waited until she closed the door, then I took out the file and read everything we had on Alexandra Hart.

* * *

I left the office just after eight and had the limo drive me straight home to my penthouse downtown. Thankfully, Monique was off at some movie premiere with a gaggle of her girlfriends, so I had the place to myself.

I stripped off my clothes and left them lying across a chair in the bedroom so the housekeeper could deal with them in the morning. I put on a pair of boxer shorts, fixed myself a Long Island iced tea, and sat down at the desk in my bedroom. I fired up my laptop and took Alexandra’s personnel file out of my briefcase and spread it out on the desk.

It’s probably easier to be vetted by Congress for the Supreme Court than getting a job at Shaw. Because we deal with matters of finance and billions of dollars in assets, we are extremely careful about who we hire.

The paperwork an applicant must complete is extensive. That paperwork is then sent to a security firm that turns over every rock and looks behind every tree. If you’ve ever done something silly, embarrassing, or illegal, they’ll find it and tell me about it.

One of the things the firm does is compile a social media profile of the applicant, meaning that the applicant gives them the web addresses of their various social media profiles and the company investigates them all. If there was a picture of you smoking a joint five years ago at a frat party posted on an old roommate’s Facebook profile, this company would find it.

I took out the social media profile the company compiled on Alexandra Hart. It had the address of her Facebook profile, and her Twitter and Instagram accounts.

According to the report, they found nothing in her past that stood out as a point of concern. Not too surprising. I knew from reading her application that she was raised on a potato farm in Idaho, got her BA at Penn, then her MBA at Wharton, my alma mater.

Her brief resume told me that she worked her way through school and probably took on a mountain of debt. Going to Wharton wasn’t cheap, and by the look of it, Alexandra Hart did not come from a rich family.

I logged into Facebook and typed in her profile address. I sipped the drink and waited for the page to come up. I’m not sure what I was hoping to find. I just wanted to see photos of the girl with the pretty red hair and nice smile, the one who looked at me without an agenda. Silly, I know, but even billionaires must take the simple pleasures where we can find them.

Alexandra Hart’s Facebook profile was about as boring as they come. She didn’t post often. When she did it was mostly reposts of cute cat videos and things related to school. I clicked on Photos, hoping to find something interesting there. She had a dozen Albums set up: family, school, work, vacation… The last one caught my eye because the thumbnail image was Alexandra in a bikini. I held my breath and clicked to open the album.

Apparently, Alexandra had taken a trip with friends to the Jersey shore the summer before. There were lots of pictures of people I didn’t care about. I kept clicking, then I stuck gold.

There was a picture of Alexandra standing on the beach, in surf up to her knees. Her hair was wet and pushed back from her face. She was wearing a black bikini that covered the parts that I wanted to see.

She had nice, full boobs that spilled out the bikini top. I smiled at the ample cleavage her freckled breasts made. Her hips were narrow and flared out into wide hips that curved down to a pair of beautifully-toned legs.

The little patch of black material that covered her pussy was wet from the surf. I narrowed my eyes and leaned into the screen. I could see a drop of water clinging to her crotch. I imagined it was her juice flowing from her pussy. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, imagining that I could smell her scent. I ran my tongue across my lips. I could taste her tangy juices on the tip of my tongue.

My cock had grown hard just from looking at the photo. I wondered what having the real thing in my bed would do to my cock. It would probably drag my body across the room to get to her.

I finished the drink and carried the laptop to the bed. I shucked off the boxer shorts and lay on the bed with the laptop resting on my chest. I didn’t need lube or lotion. My cock was ready to burst. It wouldn’t take much coaxing from my hand to make myself blow like a geyser.

I stared at Alexandra’s bikini-clad body as I wrapped my right hand around my cock and started stroking it slowly. The image came alive in my mind. I could hear the surf, the waves crashing around her. She was smiling at me, her top teeth biting into her bottom lip.

My hand slid up and down the shaft of my cock as Alexandra brought her hands up to her breasts. She massaged them for a moment, the bikini top disappeared and her bare breasts were free. Her hands squeezed her breasts. She pinched her nipples and cooed at me.

My hand pumped my cock, from base to head. I could feel the pre-cum juices seeping out now, wetting my hand. I released my grip and took the head of my cock in my palm and slathered the juices around. When my hand was wet, I started stroking again.

Alexandra’s left hand squeezed her breast as her right hand slid into the crotch of the bikini. She closed her eyes as her fingers found her clit, then began rubbing her pussy lips, dripping wet with her juice. The bikini disappeared and I could see her pussy now. I imagined a bush of red curls trimmed short. She didn’t impress me as the shaving type.

I started pumping my cock faster and faster. I sounded like a panting dog.

Alexandra used her fingers to spread her pussy lips for me. She pressed a finger to her clit and rolled it from side to side. She looked directly at me and put a finger fully into her mouth, then slid it into her pussy. She started ramming the finger in and out, in and out, as her other finger rolled her clit faster and faster.

We came at the same time. Alexandra exploded as the sea waves crashed around her. I jackhammered my cock and came with such force that I shot creamy white ropes of cum a foot in the air. I milked my cock until there was nothing left to give.

I lay there for a moment trying to catch my breath. My hand, my cock, and my stomach were covered with warm, sticky jizz. Christ, I couldn’t ever remember coming so hard by my own hand. If it was that good every time, I wouldn’t need Monique.

After a few minutes, I closed the laptop and set it on the bed with my clean hand. My head was filled with thoughts of Alexandra Hart as I rolled off the bed and went in to shower.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to pull it off, but I knew that I would not rest until Alexandra Hart was mine.

All mine.

And no one else’s.

Neither of us had a choice.

It was destined to be.

The gods don’t lie to people like me.

CHAPTER TWELVE: Alex

I didn’t sleep a wink. I tossed and turned all night, worrying if I’d have a job when I arrived at work the next morning. When I found Vee after the confrontation with the HR lady, she told me that I was just being silly, that my resume and Wharton MBA would more than make up for my silly lapse of brain function.

“Besides,” she’d said with a wink. “If Cameron Shaw spoke to you, it means something. And if he smiled at you, well, I’d say you’re going to do just fine here.”

I frowned at her. “What does that mean?”

“It means that he must think you’re hot or something,” she said with a devious grin.

“Oh, bullshit,” I said. “He was just asking my name.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Did you hear him ask anyone else’s name?”

I thought about it for a moment. “No.”

“Because he didn’t give a shit what anyone else’s name was.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Listen, girlfriend, Cameron Shaw doesn’t speak to anyone in this company that doesn’t have the letters VP after their name. And even then, it’s usually to rip them to shreds over something they did or didn’t do.”

“You make him sound like a monster,” I said.

“He can be a monster,” Vee said with a nod. “But he’s also a brilliant business man who’s not going to fire you because you couldn’t remember your name.”

“I could remember my name,” I said with a heavy sigh. “I just couldn’t get my mouth to work while he was looking at me.”

* * *

Vee and I rode in on the subway and I was happy to see that my employee badge still worked when I swiped it on the reader at the security desk.

“That’s a good sign,” Vee said with a supportive smile. We stepped onto the crowded elevator. I was assigned to a research group on the fifth floor as a Junior Analyst. Vee worked as a mid-level analyst on the sixth floor. It seemed that as you climbed the company ladder, you moved up one floor at a time. It was a long way to Cameron Shaw’s office on the fiftieth floor.

Vee bumped me with her shoulder. “Don’t worry. Just grab a cup of coffee and go to work. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“I hope you’re right,” I said, mustering a smile. She gave me a quick hug before I stepped off the elevator. I took a deep breath and walked down the long hallway to the room filled with cubicles where I’d work until someone told me otherwise.

* * *

“This is what I spent two-hundred-grand and six years of my life on?”

I didn’t ask the question out loud, but I kept repeating it over and over in my head as I sat in my tiny cubicle reviewing the reams of financial data from a company I was told Shaw was interested in acquiring.

The company was a fifty-year-old manufacturer of baby clothing and I had been tasked to review all fifty-years of financials to spot irregularities in the math, if such irregularities exist.

After reviewing the first decade of numbers and finding no errors, I started to wonder if this might be some kind of test. Maybe this was how they determined if I was sharp enough to be a Shaw analysist; dump fifty-year’s worth of mind-numbing financials on my desk and tell me to find the proverbial needle in the haystack. The fact that I felt like my job was already hanging in the balance didn’t exactly help my frame of mind.

I was about to start on the next decade’s worth of data when the phone on my desk buzzed, scaring the crap out of me. I knew what a desk phone was, but honestly, I’ve never used one. I picked up the receiver and pressed the flashing red light, hoping I was doing it right.

“Hello?”

“Is this Alexandra Hart?” The voice was female and filled with formality.

“Yes.”

“This is Robin from Mr. Shaw’s office. Mr. Shaw would like to see you in his office immediately. Please come to the fiftieth floor at once.”

“Okay…”

My heart skipped a beat as I set the receiver back on the cradle. I looked at the piles of papers on my desk and sighed. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.

Actually, it wasn’t fun, but it was better than digging potatoes in Idaho, which was where I’d be heading now that I was getting the axe at Shaw.

Shit.

See you later dreams.

It was nice knowing you.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Cameron

I sat at my desk with my back to the door, looking out over the New York skyline, waiting for Alexandra Hart to arrive. After my hot tug-and-cum session with her Facebook photo the night before, I couldn’t get her off my mind.

She came to me repeatedly in my dreams. She straddled my face, her pussy squirting hot juice over my tongue and drenching my cheeks; her big tits in my hands and her stiff nipples between my fingers. She slid her pussy over my face as my tongue probed her clit and asshole. She moaned, begging me to shove my big cock into her pussy and in her mouth and in her ass. She took my cock in her hand and milked it until my jizz shot in the air like…

I heard a knock and my secretary’s voice. “Mr. Shaw?”

Fuck! I stopped rubbing my cock through my pants and swiveled around to face the sound of Robin’s voice coming from the closed door. I slid in close to the desk, hoping the stiffness in my cock would quickly subside.

I took a few quick breaths and laced my fingers together on the desk. “Yes, come in,” I called.

Robin stuck her head in the door. “Alexandra Shaw is here.”

I started to stand up, then my erection hit the edge of the desk and I lowered myself back into the seat. I waved a hand at her. “Please, show her in.”

A second later, there she was, standing in my doorway with a look on her face like a frightened pup. God, how I wanted to jump over the desk and rip off her clothes and bend her over my desk. My cock literally throbbed when it detected her scent. Okay, that may a bit over the top, but it did seem to get harder the moment she entered the room.

“Miss Shaw, please have a seat,” I said without standing up and totally embarrassing myself. Or would I be embarrassed if I stood up and she saw the ten-inch boner in my pants? I’m Cameron fucking Shaw, after all. She should be honored that just the thought of her had such an effect on a man of my caliber.

I plastered a pleasant smile on my face and tried not to look at her tits as she sat down. She was a beautiful girl, naturally pretty, with long red hair and fair Irish skin that reminded me of fresh cream. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, not that she needed it. She had big blue eyes and a perfect little nose and a pair of lips that I couldn’t wait to feel around my cock.

She was dressed professionally in a pair of black slacks, a green top, and a short black jacket. She wasn’t wearing any jewelry. Her nails were not long or painted. She wasn’t wearing perfume, but when I inhaled deeply I could smell the soap she had used to lather up her body. I could picture in my mind her lathering up her pussy, washing it clean for me, getting it ready to accept my fingers, my mouth, my cock.

“Cameron?”

I blinked at the sound of Robin’s voice. “Yes?”

“Would you like coffee?”

I looked at Alexandra Shaw and let my eyebrows go up. “Coffee, Miss Shaw?”

“Um, no, thank you,” she said in this cute, little sheepish voice that made the wolf in me growl. My cock was pushing against the fabric of my suit, struggling to get out and get to her. God, I could barely wait until I had this girl bent over my desk with her beautiful ass in the air.

I gave Robin a nod. “We’re fine. Thank you. Please close the door on your way out.”

Robin narrowed her eyes at me, then glanced at Alexandra. “Should I lock the door on the way out?” she asked sarcastically.

I waved her away without answering. I was too busy looking into Alexandra Shaw’s blue eyes to think about anything other than getting her into my bed.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Alex

The look on Cameron Shaw’s handsome face wasn’t the look of a man about to fire an employee or rip anyone’s head off. To the contrary, he looked very happy and relaxed, maybe even a little excited.

I sat there with my hands in my lap and a stupid smile on my face, hoping that he couldn’t smell the fear that was radiating from every pore of my body. He was not only the most handsome man I’d ever been this close to, but he was a freakin’ billionaire. Do you know how many billionaires there are in the world? It’s easier to spot Big Foot than a freakin’ billionaire.

All that money aside, I was in awe of his presence. I mean, imagine sitting three feet away from a guy that looked like George Clooney back in the day. He had these rugged good looks, like an L.L. Bean model. Coal black hair with just a touch of grey, steel blue eyes that almost looked like a wolf’s, those teeth that looked like they could just devour me at any moment. The whole package was enough to have me juicing in my panties. I could smell my own scent. It was faint, but it was there. Thank God, he wasn’t a wolf because the smell of fear and pussy juice coming off me might have driven him to fuck me and rip me to shreds.

What a great way to die…

“So, Miss Shaw, I trust you’re getting all settled in,” he said after the secretary left us alone. He asked the question and gave me a smile that caused me to squirt – I mean, squirm – in the chair.

“Yes, sir, thank you,” I managed to say. My mouth was already dry as a bone. I covered my mouth with a hand and licked my lips. God forbid he think I’m coming on to him again.

“Please, call me Cameron,” he said. He reached a hand across the desk and I froze. Was I supposed to shake his hand or kiss his ring or what?

After a moment, I reached for his hand and his fingers engulfed mine. His hand was warm and welcoming. His touch sent a little spark up my arm that shot through my body and across my breasts and into my cunt. I felt a fire start there, as if my clit had been struck by lightning that caused an ember to strike.

“And what should I call you?” he asked as he slowly shook my hand. He stopped shaking my hand, but didn’t let it go.

“Um, Alex, is fine,” I said, struggling to get out the words. He let go of my hand and I brought it back to my lap. My thumb grazed my clit through the material of my pants and I nearly jumped like I’d been shocked. I had this crazy thought that he had touched my hand and now my hand was near my pussy so that meant… I know… I’m just fucking insane…

I felt my cheeks flush. I was short of breath. It was like being on a rollercoaster, rising and falling over a peak, feeling the air rush from your lungs and your stomach jump into your throat.

God, I wondered what he would be like in bed… Okay, this is ridiculous, I thought. Girl, you gotta get laid soon or you’re just going to explode!

It was an odd thought to be having while sitting across from my billionaire boss who was about to either fire me or tell me to get my head out of my ass and go back to work. I took a deep breath and waited for the verdict to come.

A thin file with my name on the label was on the desk in front of him. He opened the file and spoke as he skimmed the pages. “So, Alex, how did you find Wharton?”

“Um, well, initially through Google,” I said. By the time I realized what a freakin’ moron I was, it was too late. He was already looking at me like I had two heads.

“No, I mean how was your experience there?”

“Oh, right, sorry, it was great,” I said, struggling to breathe and speak at the same time. “It was hard work, but I thoroughly enjoyed the experience.”

“Your CV is highly-impressive,” he said, flipping through the pages of transcripts. “You also interned at Morgan Stanley and AIG, again, very impressive.”

“Thank you,” I said. I pushed out a long breath and felt a little of the tension leaving my body. Maybe I wasn’t going to get fired after all.

He closed my file and rested his hands on top of it. I stared at his hands for a moment. I found myself wondering what they’d feel like on my breasts. GRRRR! Dammit, Alex, focus!

He took on a serious tone and said, “Alex, are you familiar with Baby-Co Industries? They make cotton diapers for babies?”

I had no clue who Baby-Co was, but I couldn’t tell him that. I let my expression match his and said, “I’m aware of the company, yes.”

It was what my professor at Wharton called, “a non-answer.”

I was aware of the company, but what did that mean?

That I’d heard the name?

That I used their products?

That I knew everything there was to know about them?

Or more precisely, was I just trying not to sound like a moron?

Bingo!

“Baby-Co is an old-school company that is on the brink of bankruptcy,” he said with a sigh, as if the notion saddened him. “Our world is all about convenience, quick fixes, disposable diapers. Sadly, Baby-Co is going the way of the dinosaurs. However, they have a number of assets that would be highly-valuable if parted out from the company and sold off. Their manufacturing plant in Dallas, for example, sits on prime real estate that’s worth three times their profit last year.”

“Wow,” I head myself say. Wow? Really, Alex?

“So, we are acquiring Baby-Co and will be parting out those assets of value and liquidating everything else. I’m putting together a team of my best people to handle the acquisition. Since you had experience working in acquisitions during your internship at AIG, I thought you might like to join the team.”

I must have looked like I was having a stroke because I didn’t know what to say. I think my mouth moved a little, but my brain didn’t send down any words to say. I felt my head nodding. My tongue went over my dry lips again.

“Alex?”

I blinked and tried to smile. “That would be amazing Mr. Shaw, I mean, Cameron, I mean… Thank you.”

He grinned at me. “Fantastic. I’ll let Mitchell Ryan know that you’re onboard. You’ll move up here to the war room down the hall to work with the team.”

He got to his feet. Wow, was he tall. He came around the desk and held out his hand. I put my hand in his and let him lift me off the chair. He was so strong. I felt juice running down the inside of my thigh. Dammit, I needed thicker panties…

“So, get your things and report back up here after lunch,” he said, holding my hand as he led me to the door. I followed like a bitch in heat. He let go of my hand and paused before he opened the door.

“Oh, there’s one more thing.” He was just a foot away from me now. I could smell his aftershave. He was so erect. I mean, tall. He was so tall. Oh, fuck it.

“I’m on the board of the city’s homeless initiative and we’re having a fundraiser tonight at the Hilton downtown. I would very much like you to come.”

I blinked at him. “You want me to come to a fundraiser? You mean, to serve food or bartend?”

He chuckled at me. He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from my cheek. I felt the fire in my cunt start to rage out of control as it burned its way up my body.

“No, I mean as a guest,” he said. He put his hand behind his back, almost like he had to keep them occupied or they’d brush my cheek again. “I’ve invited a number of the new employees to attend.”

“Um, that’s great, Mr. Shaw, but I’m not sure I have anything to wear.” I was getting short of breath again. I was finding it hard to swallow. “I mean, I put most of my clothes in storage when I moved here, so…”

“That won’t be a problem,” he said. He went back to the desk to get a pen and pad of paper. He handed them to me. “Just write down your dress and shoe size and I’ll have Robin send over something appropriate.”

I hesitated for a moment and avoided his stare. He’d touched my cheek, which in Idaho was as good as foreplay. Maybe this was just his way of being friendly.

He was a gorgeous billionaire, after all, and if he wanted to touch my cheek who was I to say that he couldn’t?

He smiled at my hesitation, as if I were a child doing something he thought was cute.

“Alex, we do this all the time for new hires. Just write down your sizes and I’ll take care of the rest. And write down your address. I’ll have a car pick you up at 8:30.”

* * *

I was in our tiny apartment bathroom struggling with my hair when Vee walked in carrying a box that had Saks Fifth Avenue on the outside.

“This just came for you,” she said. “And this note.” She wiggled a small envelope at me. “You want me to read it?”

“Yes, please,” I said, taking the box and walking into my bedroom with Vee close behind.

“Miss Shaw, I trust this will work. See you tonight. Cam.” She made a face at me. “Cam? Holy shit, Alex, he’s trying to fuck you!”

“What? No! That’s insane,” I said, flabbergasted. “He’s just being nice.”

“Oh my god, surely you’re not that naïve,” she said, waving the note in the air. “Let me read this to you again, Idaho girl, only this time I’ll read between the lines.” She made a serious face. “Alex, I can’t wait to have my hand up this dress. Please don’t wear panties as that would only slow me down. Suck my dick, Cam!”

“You’re insane,” I said with a laugh. I took the lid off the box and pulled out the most gorgeous little black dress on the planet, with emphasis on the word “little”.

It was a Stella McCartney, black, low cut, short, and covered in tiny sequins that glimmered in the light. There was a pair of black Manolo Blahnik fuck-me stilettos in the bottom of the box.

“Still think I’m crazy?” Vee asked, staring at the dress as I held it up between us. “If that dress and those shoes don’t say I’m going to fuck a billionaire tonight, I don’t know what does.”

“Holy shit,” I sighed. I held the dress up to me and turned to stare in horror at my reflection in the mirror. The hem barely reached my crotch. “Vee, I can’t wear this. I’ll look like a hooker.”

“A hooker wearing a thousand-dollar dress and a two-thousand-dollar pair of fuck-me heels,” Vee said. She was standing behind me with her arms folded over her chest. My eyes filled with tears as I caught her reflection in the mirror.

“Vee, what am I going to do?”

“You’re going to the fundraiser,” she said. “But you don’t have to go in that. Come on, let’s raid my closet. I’ve been to a few of these things. I’m sure I’ll have something you can wear.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Cameron

“You invited her here? To the fundraiser? Are you fucking crazy? I mean, why would you do that? Christ, Cam, Monique and her father are going to be here. You can get away with shit in front of Monique, but her old man watches you like a hawk. What were you thinking?”

Mitchell continued to rant as I smiled at my reflection in the restroom mirror. I leaned in to adjust my tie for a moment, then leaned out to brush lint off the lapels of my black tuxedo jacket.

He stopped ranting and threw his hands up in the air. “Well?”

“Are you finished?” I asked, turning to face him. I put my hands on his shoulders and gave him a little shake. “Look, I invited Alexandrea Shaw here so she could get better acquainted with the Baby-Co team. That’s all. There’s no ulterior motive.”

“Bullshit,” he said. “You invited her here because you want to fuck her.”

I turned back to look in the mirror. I flashed my teeth to make sure they were perfect (they were) and brushed my hair back with the palms of my hands. I glanced at him.

I asked, “What are you so upset about? It’s not like I haven’t fucked employees before. And Christ, you can’t keep your dick out of that hot Latino girl on the fifth floor. What’s her name? Veronica something. Do they call her Vee because that’s where all the action is?”

“You’re such an asshole,” Mitch said, turning red-faced. He’d been fucking the girl named Vee since she came onboard a year before, and I couldn’t blame him. She was one hot piece of ass: big tits, big ass, round hips. I couldn’t blame Mitch at all for tapping that. I was pretty sure that Maribeth, his wife of five years and mother to their two kids, would feel differently.

“Look, all I’m saying is that you can’t fuck up the deal you made with Sebastian Ells,” he said, shifting the focus away from himself. “The one condition of merging with his company was that you marry Monique. You knew that going in. You agreed to his terms.”

“And I will marry Monique,” I said with a heavy sigh. “And I will take over her father’s company, and we’ll all live happily ever after. But that doesn’t mean that I’m gonna cut off my dick and let Monique carry it around in her purse.”

“I know, but…”

“Mitch, chill, I got this.” I patted his shoulders, then gave him a push toward the door. “Come on, let’s go mingle with the little people.”

And maybe even fuck one, I thought with a smile.

* * *

I found Monique and her father, Sebastian Ells, sitting at the VIP table at the front of the room near the stage. There were several hundred people in attendance, many of them rich, some of them wealthy, and then the two billionaires; Sebastian and me.

Sebastian had made his fortune in the stock market, then as the founder of one of the richest hedge funds on Wall Street. We’d been friendly adversaries for years, then, a year ago, he suggested that I marry his daughter, who I occasionally fucked, and we merge our empires.

Monique was never more than a casual fuck for me and I was nothing more than that to her, but for some reason she thought her father’s idea was “delicious”. She could see herself as Mrs. Cameron Shaw. She liked the sound of it.

I thought it was a ridiculously old-fashioned idea at first, marrying to merge two kingdoms, but as I looked at the numbers and realized the sheer magnitude of a merger between Ells and Shaw, the idea started to grow on me.

When Sebastian offered to turn over the reins to me on the one year anniversary of my wedding to his daughter, it became an offer I couldn’t refuse.

The day Monique and I announced our engagement, the stock of both our companies skyrocketed. Apparently, our shareholders thought that the merger was a good thing, too.

Since then, Monique – my fiancé -- has tried to take over every waking moment of my life.

That’s fine when I have her bent over in the shower driving my cock into her ass, but when she started setting appointments for me and committing my money to support her causes, like tonight, I knew I had to draw the line.

I knew talking to Monique wouldn’t do a bit of good, so I talked to her old man. He was well-aware that for this merger to work, he needed to get his daughter to back the fuck up.

So far, he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. What daddy’s princess wanted, daddy’s princess got.

“Hello, Sebastian,” I said as I sat down between him and Monique, who offered her cheek for me to kiss. “You’re looking well.”

“As are you, my boy,” he said with a nod. He gave me a moment to get settled, then waited until Monique turned to chat with Mitch, who sat on the other side of her. Good old Mitch. He’d keep Monique busy with idle talk of fundraisers and fashion shows and shiny new things while I spoke to her old man. And waited for Alexandra Shaw to arrive.

Sebastian leaned in and lowered his voice. “I assume we are still on schedule with our plan.” He looked around me and nodded at his little girl. “I spoke to Monique. She understands that she may have been a bit premature in taking over your social calendar.” He cut a wry smile and winked at me. “I’m sure she will make it up to you in her own special way.”

“I appreciate that, Sebastian,” I said.

“Happy to help, my boy,” he said, giving me a smile that made my stomach churn. “Enjoy your freedom. While it lasts.”

I stared into his eyes for a moment, wondering what the hell he meant, then he picked up a glass of water from the table and looked away.

I leaned back and took a deep breath and let my eyes go around the room. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly nine. She should be here soon.

The room was filled with men in tuxedos and ladies in formal gowns and uniformed servers waiting on them hand and foot.

My eyes searched the crowd for the redhead in the little black mini-dress and fuck-me heels.

Then, like a vision that suddenly appears through the mist, there she was; standing at the entrance with the look of a frightened doe on her face.

I felt my chest swell at the site of her, though she wasn’t wearing the dress I picked out for her. She was wearing a black formal dress and heels, but the dress wasn’t low cut or short enough for my tastes. And the heels were an inch too low. What the fuck?

I smiled as I watched her walk toward one of the bars that were set up around the room. She ordered a Coke.

So, she didn’t wear the dress I’d sent her and she wasn’t drinking alcohol. Interesting.

Getting Alexandra Hart into my bed might present a greater challenge than I thought.

Excellent.

I loved a good challenge.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Alex

Vee saved the day. And quite possibly, my dignity. I tried on the little black dress Cameron had sent and sure enough, my tits and ass were barely covered. I’ve got a decent body, but I’m a pretty modest girl. There was no way I would have worn that dress in public. I was embarrassed to have it on in front of Vee!

For a second-year analyst right out of B-school, Vee had an impressive wardrobe. Her closet was stuffed full of expensive clothes and shoes. She said they were gifts from a rich boyfriend. I didn’t press the point.

The dress she let me borrow, a black, mid-thigh, backless cocktail dress from Vera Wang, had to have cost a thousand bucks. She dug out a pair of four-inch Jimmy Choo’s and a black clutch that matched the dress. The black bra and panties were mine. The rest belonged to Vee.

I ordered a Coke and moved aside to gaze around the room. It was a big room filled with rich people in tuxedos and fancy dresses. Boy, did I feel out of place. The daughter of an Idaho potato farmer rubbing shoulders with the rich folks as a ritzy fundraiser in Manhattan. I wondered what my dad would think of his little girl now.

I spotted Cameron sitting at a table at the front of the room. He was chatting with an older gentleman. Beside him was Monique Ells, the gorgeous former model who would be Mrs. Shaw in a month or two.

I knew who she was only because I had snooped out Cameron Shaw on Google and their names kept coming up together. I must admit, my heart sank a little bit when I saw her sitting there. I know, stupid, as if I would ever get the chance to be with a man like Cameron Shaw.

Sitting next to Monique was my new boss, Mitchell Ryan, who I’d met just briefly after lunch in the war room. I wasn’t entirely sure, but I thought he was Vee’s rich benefactor. She didn’t tell me outright who she was sleeping with, but the gossip in the war room was that Mitchell was sleeping with a hot Latino girl from the fifth floor. Surely, there couldn’t be more than one.

When Cameron spotted me standing near the bar, he got up from the table and headed my way. I could tell by the look on his face that he was wondering why I hadn’t worn the dress he’d sent over.

“Alex, glad you came,” he said, sticking out his hand. I took his hand and smiled. It was a different kind of handshake than the one in his office. This one was much quicker, more professional. I felt like every eye in the place was on us. Maybe he felt it, too.

“Yes, thank you so much for inviting me,” I said.

He looked me up and down. His bottom lip grew pouty. “You didn’t like the dress I sent over?”

“Honestly, I think it was the wrong size,” I lied, making a sorrowful face. “It was a little small. I’ll bring it back in on Monday.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry about that,” he said, waving the thought away. “Regardless, you look delicious.”

“Well, thanks, I’m not really used to dressing up.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your little friend, Cam?”

Cameron turned to find Monique Ells and Mitchell Ryan standing behind him. Monique was so gorgeous that she didn’t look real. She looked like a walking photo straight out of Glamour Magazine.

Mitchell, on the other hand, had a look on his face like Pandora after she let the demons out of the box. I saw Cameron shoot him a look. I assumed Mitchell had been tasked with keeping Monique busy while Cameron came to greet me.

“Monique Ells, this is Alexandra Hart,” Cameron said curtly. The skin around his eyes tightened when he looked at her. His discomfort seemed to grow as Monique held out her hand for me to shake. It was like shaking a dead fish.

“Charmed,” she said with a forced smiled. Her eyes went up and down me. She crinkled her perfect nose, as if I were a dog that had just dropped a turd in front of her.

“Nice to meet you,” I said. I should have said “charmed” back, but who the fuck says charmed?

“Miss Hart is a new hire,” Cameron said with a proud smile, as if he had recruited me himself. “A Wharton grad, top of her class.”

“How nice,” Monique said. She let the sarcastic smile drop as she moved to take Cameron’s arm and tugged him close. “Darling, we need to take our seats. The auction starts in a few minutes and I want to spend an obscene amount of your money.”

“Why don’t you spend your father’s money?” Cameron asked, narrowing his eyes at the gorgeous woman clinging to his arm like it was the ship’s mast in a storm.

“Oh don’t worry, daddy’s bank account will take a dip tonight as well.” She shot me a condescending look. “I believe we should support people less fortunate than ourselves. Don’t you, Miss…”

“Hart,” I said, gritting my teeth behind a smile so the words that were on the tip of my tongue didn’t burst forth and slap her in the face. She tightened her grip on Cameron’s arm, as if she were afraid he might escape.

“I’ll be right there,” Cameron said, prying her off his arm and looking to Mitchell for support. “Mitch, escort Monique back to the table, please.”

Monique’s eyes shot daggers into mine for a moment, then she took Mitchell’s arm and let him escort her to her seat.

“My apologies,” Cameron said. “She’s actually a very nice person.”

“No, she’s not.” I said it before my brain could stop my mouth. When I realized what I’d said, my eyes grew wide and I gave Cameron a horrified look. To my everlasting relief, he was smiling.

“You’re right, she’s not,” Cameron said. His eyes went slowly around my face. “Not like you.”

Then he did something totally unexpected. He put a hand on my arm and leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. I felt the heat from his lips as it rushed through my body like a raging river. I felt moisture in my panties. My nipples came alive, as if they’d been jolted by electricity.

“I have to go buy things I don’t need,” he said, the hand still on my arm, moving up and down now. “Can I see you afterward?”

“Uh… sure…” I don’t know why I said it or even what it meant. Can I see you afterward? Does he mean after he buys crap he doesn’t need or after the event or after he ditches his bitchy girlfriend? I didn’t know what it meant. I didn’t know what I wanted it to mean. I certainly didn’t think he was hitting on me. I mean, why would he want me when he had Monique Ells? What red-blooded hot-as-hell guy would want baloney when he already had steak?

Cameron leaned in and kissed my cheek again, then headed toward the table. Across the room, I could feel Monique’s eyes burning into me like red dots from a sniper’s rifle.

I was suddenly shaking. My breath came in huffs. My heart was pounding so hard you could literally see it pulsating beneath the thin fabric of the dress. I set the Coke on the bar and went to find the ladies room.

* * *

I could hear the auction over the loud speaker as I sat in a stall wiping myself off with tissue. I hadn’t peed on myself. It was my juice, flowing from my pussy like a hard rain on a sweltering summer day.

The feel of Cameron’s hand on my arm and lips on my cheek had driven my body nearly to the point of orgasm. I was thinking about diddling myself right there on the toilet when I heard the restroom door open and close.

I dabbed the tissue against my damp cunt once more, then dropped the wad into the toilet and flushed. I stood up to wiggle the black lace panties into place, then took a deep breath and opened the stall door. Monique Ells was standing there with her hands on her hips and a hateful look in her eyes.

“Oh, hi,” I said, going to the sink to wash my hands.

“You’re not the first you know,” Monique said. She moved in close and spoke to me in a hushed tone. I could smell the expensive champagne on her breath. “He’s fucked so many of you little company whores that I’ve lost count. You’re just the next one in a very long line.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, picking up a towel to dry my hands. You know a place is ritzy if the ladies room has real cloth towels.

“I didn’t mind Cameron fucking around while we were just dating,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me. “But now that we are officially engaged, he is off the market. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I mustered a polite smile. “I understand completely, but I’m not here to fuck anyone. I was told that all the new employees would be here tonight. I just came because I thought I had to.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “Oh my god, you’re serious, aren’t you?”

I blinked at her. “I’m sorry?”

“You seriously think there are other new employees here? You are either the most naïve young woman I’ve ever met or you’re just plain stupid.”

She gave me a pitiful pout, like she felt sorry for me because I was such a helpless idiot.

“Dear girl, you’re here because Cameron wants to stick his cock into you. I’m here to tell you that’s not going to happen. His cock, all ten inches of it, belongs to me.” She took a step closer. Our noses were an inch apart. “Do you understand?”

I swallowed hard. My head nodded on its own. Was I naïve or stupid? Or had I thought that maybe Cameron Shaw was truly interested in me? Whatever, all I could think about at that moment was getting out of that restroom without having to punch Monique Ells in her perfect nose.

Monique took a step back and turned to the mirror over the sink. She took a lipstick from her handbag and painted her lips a deep crimson, the color of blood after the lioness slaughtered the lamb.

“You need to leave now,” she said without looking at me. “If you’re still here when I come out of the restroom I’ll have security throw you out.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Cameron

Mitchell was right. What was I thinking, inviting Alex to the fundraiser knowing that Monique would be there?

Did I think Monique wouldn’t notice me fawning over Alex?

Did I think Alex was going to melt into my arms and fuck me in the coat room? Shit. I wasn’t sure what I was thinking, but when I spotted Monique coming out of the ladies’ room with a smug look on her face, I knew what had happened.

“I have to take a piss,” I said to Mitch.

He knew I was lying. “What? No! You can’t leave.”

“I’m going to take a piss,” I said again. “Keep Monique occupied for me and your Christmas bonus will be double this year.”

“I’m not sure it’s worth the headache,” Mitch said with a sigh.

Luckily, Monique stopped to chat with some fashion fucks she knew. I quickly got up from the table and rushed off in the opposite direction. I had to find Alex. I had to set things straight. I had to make her mine, no matter the cost.

My eyes searched around the room for Alex, but she was nowhere in sight. I rushed across the lobby and pushed open the doors. A heavy rain was falling. I looked up and down the street, but saw no sign of Alex.

I asked the kid manning the valet parking station if he’d seen a woman with long red hair and a black dress come by. He saw her heading toward the subway station up the street, four blocks down.

I called for my car and in less than a minute, the stretch limo pulled to the curb. “Drive toward the subway station,” I told the driver. “Stop if you see a drenched redhead.”

Two blocks down I spotted her on the sidewalk, trotting through the rain in the high heels with an old newspaper over her head. The driver pulled to the curb and I opened the door.

“Alex, get in!” I called.

She jumped when I called her name. She stopped and looked at me. The soaked newspaper wasn’t doing much to shield her from the rain. She was drenched from head to toe. I forced myself not to smile.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” she said.

“You’re getting soaked,” I said. “Get in, I’ll take you home.”

“And have your fiancé come after me? I don’t think so. I’m fine walking.”

She turned quickly and when she did, the heel of her right shoe broke and she stumbled to the hard sidewalk. I jumped out of the car and without asking, scooped her up into my arms and shoved her inside the limo and closed the door.

“I really can’t do this,” she said, wincing at the pain in her ankle. She was literally drenched. I took off my jacket and covered her with it.

“You can’t walk on that,” I said, reaching for her foot and pulling it into my lap. Her ankle was red, but I didn’t think anything was broken.

“Wiggle your toes,” I said. I didn’t realize that I was massaging her foot. Touching her was like flipping the switch that controlled the blood to my cock. I felt myself getting hard just watching her wiggle her toes. My cock nudged against her heel.

“It’s not broken,” I said formally, as if I had a clue if it was broken or not. “I think a little ice will do the trick.”

“I’m already freezing,” she said, tugging her foot from my grasp and pulling the coat up to her chin. “Do you have heat in this thing?”

She made me smile. She was so brutally honest, so unassuming, so unlike Monique and the other women I’d surrounded myself with over the years.

I adjusted the heat for her and nodded at the driver. “Just tell him your address?”

“That’s not necessary,” she said.

“Alex, you’re injured and you’re freezing,” I said, settling back into the seat next to her. “I’m not letting a Wharton grad ride the subway in this weather, so just give him your address, then hush and enjoy the ride.”

“Did you just tell me to hush?” she asked, grinning at me.

I smiled. “I suppose I just did.”

“Do you use the word hush often, Mr. Shaw?”

“No, honestly I don’t, Miss Hart.”

We smiled at each other. I didn’t know if it was the heat coming through the vents or the heat coming from our bodies, but slowly, the ice between us began to melt.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Alex

“This really isn’t necessary.”

“It’s no problem. Give me your key so I can unlock the door.”

“Okay, whoa, don’t drop me!”

“Never.”

Cameron managed to twist the keys in the various locks and pushed the door open with his toe. The apartment was dark. Vee was out for the night.

“You can set me down now.” I said the words, but I didn’t loosen the grip of my arms around his neck. I loved being in his arms. He was so strong, so masculine. So absolutely perfect.

As he carried me from the car into the apartment with the rain pelting down on us, I put my nose to his neck and inhaled his scent. My entire body went on high alert. My pussy felt as if someone had lit a fire deep inside it, burning away the veil of my virginity. My breasts swelled. My nipples ached. I had never been with a man before. In fact, other than my failed make-out sessions with Perry, this was the closet to a man I’d ever been.

Cameron lowered me to the floor and turned to lock the door behind us. I turned on the lamp and tried to think of something witty to say. I failed miserably, so I offered him a glass of the wine I knew Vee kept in the fridge.

“I’m not much of a drinker,” he said as he slicked the wet hair back from his face. He held out his damp hands. “I could use a towel if you have one handy.”

“Oh, yes, hang on!” I was as soaked as he was, but the heat coming from within my body fought off the chill. I hurried to the bathroom and came back with a big towel and handed it to him.

“Thanks,” he said with a smile. He dabbed the water from his face and hair and looked around the room. “This is where you live?” He didn’t say it judgmentally, but that’s how I took it.

“Maybe you should pay your junior analysts more so they could afford to live in a better place,” I said, flexing an eyebrow at him.

“You’re dripping,” he said.

I looked down in horror, thinking he meant I was dripping juices from my pussy, which would not have been that farfetched given that the heat radiating through my body was coming from my cunt.

God, I wanted this man inside me. I wanted him to be my first. I wanted him to shove his ten-inch cock (according to Monique) deep inside me. I wanted him to pop my cherry and rock my world. I know, insane. He has a freakin’ model waiting at home. Why would he want me? Unless… maybe Monique was telling the truth. Maybe he fucked all the new girls. Maybe this was part of the Shaw new employee orientation.

“Alex, you’re dripping,” he said again, nodding at the puddle of water that was forming beneath my bare feet. My dress and hair were soaked and I had left a trail of water all the way into the bathroom and back again.

“Oh, shit,” I said. “Um, make yourself comfortable while I change. I would offer you some dry clothes, but unless you can shimmy into that dress you sent over, I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”

He grinned at me. God, I loved making this man smile. “I’m fine. But I will get out of these clothes if you don’t mind. They are completely soaked.”

He unbuttoned his shirt. The sight of his muscular chest and abs nearly made me cum. His chest was covered in thick, dark curls. He took off the shirt and hung it over the radiator to dry, then took off his pants and socks and hung them next to the shirt. He stood there with nothing on but a pair of black boxers with a bulge in the front, drying himself off on the towel. I felt the fire that had been burning in my pussy become a raging inferno that spread throughout my body.

He caught me gawking at him. He smiled. I smiled. Then I ran into my bedroom and closed the door as a stream of juices overflowed my panties and ran down the insides of my thighs.

CHAPTER NINETEEN: Alex

I wiggled out of the wet dress and underwear, then dried myself off on a towel that was lying on my bed. I was standing naked in front of the mirror, drying my hair with the towel, when I felt someone watching me. When I turned toward the door, Cameron was standing there with nothing on but a smile.

His long cock was fully erect. He had it in his right hand, stroking it slowly. The sight of it caused the breath to catch in my throat. I had seen lots of cocks in the dirty movies I watched, but never had I seen one in person. I wanted to touch it, to taste it, to feel it deep inside me.

Without a word, Cameron came into the room and closed the door. He took me into his arms. His cock pressed upward into my stomach. I could feel his balls against my bush. His arms went around me. His fingers kneaded my ass and pulled me into him.

“Alex…” he sighed, pressing his lips to mine. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you.”

I gazed into his eyes as a thousand emotions began playing tug of war inside me. My pussy burned for him, but he was engaged to be married. I wanted his cock inside me, but that would be wrong. Monique said I was just the next in a long line of women he’d fucked, but I didn’t care.

I may be the next in line, but dammit, it was my turn.

I put up a pitiful defense as his tongue probed my mouth and his cock slid up and down against my stomach, leaving a little wet trail of juice. “But, you’re engaged.”

“It’s a business arrangement,” he said, his lips at my ear. “I want you, Alex. There’s no one else but you.”

I knew it was a lie, just a line a guy says when he wants to fuck you. But dammit, I wanted to fuck him, too; probably more than he wanted to fuck me. My desire for him overrode all logic and morality. I said, “You are my first, Cameron. Teach me what to do.”

CHAPTER TWENTY: Cameron

“You’re a virgin?” I pulled back from her lips and looked deeply into Alex’s blue eyes. I could see a wonderful combination of lust and fear staring back at me.

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “I want you to be my first. I want you to teach me what you like. I want you to do everything to me and I’ll do everything to you. Just, go slowly.”

Oh. My. God. What did I ever do to deserve this!

“I’ll go slowly,” I said, kissing her gently on the lips as my cock slid against her stomach. I tightened the grip on her ass and lifted her up. Her legs went around my waist and her pussy ended up straddling my cock. I whispered in her ear. “Let’s get you hot and juicy first.”

“Yes,” she sighed into my ear. “Please do.”

I carried Alex to the bed and she lay back on the pillows. I stood at the foot of the bed looking at her naked body for the first time. She had flawless, pale skin and freckles across the tops of her large, round boobs. Her areolas were a dark shade of pink and her nipples were stiff and thick. She had a neatly-trimmed bush of red curls and when she spread her legs, her moist, pink pussy beckoned to me.

No man had ever entered her before.

This was true virgin territory.

I would be her first and I would set the bar high.

She would judge all men who came after me by this night.

I swore to myself that I would make it the most amazing night of her life. I already knew it was going to be one of the most amazing nights of mine.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Alex

I held my breath as Cameron lay me on the bed. I spread my legs so he could get full view of the prize that awaited him. He stood at the foot of the bed, letting his eyes go over my body.

My eyes drifted from his face to his chest to his stomach to his cock. I was certainly no judge of size, but his cock looked huge. It was long and straight and thick, and the head was round and dark and shiny.

I couldn’t wait to do everything that I’d seen in my dirty movies. I wanted his cock in my hands and in my mouth and between my tits and in my pussy.

And maybe someday, in my ass. I still wasn’t sold on that one yet. The girls in the pornos made it look like fun, but to me it looked really, really painful.

I’d be willing to try it with Cameron, though. Some day. Maybe.

“Tell me what you’re going to do to me,” I sighed.

“I’m going to start by licking your beautiful clit,” Cameron said, getting to his knees at the foot of the bed. He started massaging my thighs. Little bolts of electricity shot up my legs. My hands instinctively went to my tits. I cupped them in my palms and tweaked my nipples with my thumbs and fingers.

I felt the hot juices flowing from my pussy as Cameron’s fingers worked into the flesh of my thighs. The juice streamed from my pussy, down my taint and into my asshole.

“Then what?” I asked. My breath was heavy. My tits rose and fell in my hands.

Cameron’s hands moved closer to my cunt until his thumbs were a hair away from my pussy lips. His fingers played with the red curls above my clit.

“Then I’m going to lick your pink lips and push my tongue deep inside you. I’m going to fuck you with my tongue until you shoot cum into my mouth and down my throat. I’m going to lap up your juices and drink them like wine.”

“Oh… god… yes…” I said with a sigh. I bent my knees and spread my legs as wide as they would go. I squeezed my nipples until they swelled and beckoned him with my eyes. “Please… now… Cameron, my darling… drink my wine…”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: Cameron

I felt Alex’s body tremble as I slowly slid my thumbs toward her clit. When my thumbs touched the hood, a shudder rumbled through her and she sucked in a quick breath. I watched the juices gush from a pussy. She’d nearly orgasmed and all I did was touch her clit. I smiled. She had no idea the pleasures she was about to endure.

I dipped my thumbs into her pussy to lubricate them, then pressed her clit between my thumbs and slowly massaged the length of it. Like a little cock, it grew longer at my touch.

Alex moaned. She was kneading her tits and pinching her nipples until they turned crimson. Nipple clamps. I wish we had nipple clamps. My teeth would have to do for now.

I lowered my lips to her pussy and planted little kisses across the lips. I inhaled her tangy scent. I flicked the tip of my tongue at her entrance. She jumped a little and lifted her ass off the bed. I braced my palms under her ass and lifted her pussy to meet my lips.

I probed her hot opening with my tongue. The juices flowed like a warm stream as I stiffened my tongue and pushed it inside her. She moaned again and sucked in another breath.

I used my fingers to hold open her pussy lips and licked her like a hot ice cream cone. I licked her pussy until she was moaning in ecstasy.

She was close to cumming again. I let my tongue dip to her asshole. I swirled my tongue around, then trailed it back to her pussy and drove it back inside.

I held her ass up and buried my mouth in her cunt. I tongue-fucked her until I felt her muscles tense and she sighed my name.

She pressed her cunt to my lips as she came, washing her juices over my face and tongue like a wave crashing into the beach. I felt my cock about to burst as I licked her clean and readied for more.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: Alex

HOLY SHIT…

Those were the only words that came to mind as I had my first orgasm that hadn’t come from my own hand. I pushed my pussy against Cameron’s lips and squeezed my nipples as I felt the orgasm coming. It was like a force I’d never felt before, so much more intense than orgasms I’d given myself.

The orgasm seemed to last for hours. Cameron’s fingers dug into my ass as he licked and sucked and flicked his tongue into my pussy. When he ramrodded his entire tongue into my pussy, I couldn’t hold back. I released the breath I’d been holding and gushed my juices into his mouth and onto his face.

After a moment, I opened my eyes to see Cameron smiling up at me with his mouth on my clit. I held out my hands and wiggled my fingers at him. “I want to play,” I said. “Please, teach me how to suck your cock.”

“With pleasure,” he said, getting to his knees. He moved forward until he was straddling my tits with his cock directed toward my lips. He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked it. I nearly came again when I saw the drops of juice seeping from the tiny slit at the tip of his cock.

“Lean forward and kiss it,” Cameron said. I reached around and grabbed on to his ass and pulled myself toward him. I planted a gentle kiss on the tip of his cock.

“Now,” he said, his voice a whisper. “Open your lips and slide it into your mouth. Watch the teeth.”

I parted my lips and slid the head of his cock into my mouth. I sucked on it like a hard candy. I flicked my tongue along the underside of the head like I’d seen the girls in the dirty movies do.

“Suck it, take it in, a little at a time,” Cameron said, breathing harder now.

I opened my mouth and let an inch of his cock slide in. I clamped my lips around the shaft and started sliding his cock in and out, in and out. I glanced up at Cameron. His eyes were closed, his mouth was hanging open. He was moaning, panting.

I dug my fingers into his ass and pulled his cock into my mouth as far as it would go. I gagged a little, but quickly got into a rhythm of sliding my lips back and forth along the shaft.

I would suck hard and pulled my head back until just the head of his cock was at my lips, then I’d take as much of his cock into my mouth as I could. I could feel Cameron’s muscles tensing and I thought he was going to cum in my mouth.

I held my breath and mentally readied myself to swallow every ounce of cum that shot into my mouth. This wasn’t going to be like the dirty movies. I didn’t want him shooting all over my tits. I wanted that first load in my mouth.

At the last moment, he pulled his cock free and moved back down my body until he lowered his head and looked me in the eye. He said, “I’m going to fuck you now, Alex. I’ll go slowly, I’ll try not to hurt you, but I must have my cock in your pussy now.”

“Yes, please, fuck me,” I said, looking deeply into his eyes. “I trust you.”

Mentally, I was more than ready to have my cherry popped. Physically, my body SCREAMED for it. I knew it was going to be painful, but I knew the pleasure would carry me through.

“You’re already hot and wet,” Cameron said. “Let’s get you propped up a little.” He picked up a spare pillow and doubled it over and tucked it beneath my ass so my pussy was angled perfectly for him.

He dipped his fingers into my pussy and lubed his cock with my juices. I swear, I almost came again just watching him stroke his cock. We’d have to have a dual masturbation session later. Maybe I could video it so I could use it when I was alone.

Cameron positioned himself between my legs and guided the head of his cock to my opening. He pushed just enough for the head to slide in. Oh god, what heaven… He braced his hands on the bed beside me and gave me a reassuring smile.

“I’ll go slow,” he said. “Tell me if I need to stop.”

I took a deep breath and dug my top teeth into my lower lip. I put my hands on his arms and closed my eyes.

Cameron pushed in a little, then a little more. It was uncomfortable, the head of his cock pushing against the veil of my cherry, but I knew that true pleasure was just on the other side.

“More,” I said, holding my breath. Cameron slid in another inch. There was pain, but I ignored it. Dammit, I’d waited twenty-four years for this. I was not going to back out now.

“More,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

I looked into his eyes and gave him nod. Cameron backed out a little, then pushed hard. The pain of his cock impaling me was excruciating.

Cameron froze. He didn’t slide in or out until I opened my eyes. A tear ran from the corner of my eye. Cameron leaned down to wipe it off with his lips.

“I’m fine,” I whispered. “Fuck me, Cameron. Fuck me for the first time.”

He started slowly sliding his cock in and out of my pussy. I dug my nails into his arms. Slowly, the pain was replaced by a thousand twinges of pleasure. I told him to go faster and the pleasure increased.

Cameron was sliding in and out of me now in steady rhythm. His eyes were clenched shut and he was breathing through his nose like a bull.

Every nerve in my body had connected to my pussy. With each thrust of his cock, Cameron sent shockwaves through me that made my nipples stand on end.

“I’m... cumming…” he said.

The rhythm increased. I watched him cum. Every muscle in his chest and shoulders and arms tensed as he shoved his cock fully into me and filled my cunt with hot, milky cum that I’d been waiting for all my life.

I came at the same time, bucking my pussy to meet his cock, forcing him to impale me fully with every stroke. I screamed his name and begged him to fuck me harder and faster.

The room seemed to pop with electricity as our juices flowed together and Cameron collapsed on top of me. I lay there with tears in my eyes, listening as he struggled to catch his breath.

I’d done that to him, me, little Alexandra Hart from Twin Falls, Idaho.

I’d made a billionaire cum.

And I couldn’t wait to do it again.

* * *

We made love again, this time with me on top, riding his cock like a bucking bronco while he squeezed my tits and sucked my nipples. I couldn’t believe how amazing he made me feel. I knew my first time would be memorable (or I hoped it would be), but I had no idea it would be like this.

We lay in bed listening to the rain beating against the window. I had my head on his chest, listening to him breathe. I was exhausted, but too keyed up to sleep. I couldn’t remember every being so content.

“I’ve never known a billionaire before,” I said, my fingers playing with his dark chest hair.

“I’ve never known anyone from Idaho,” he said, kissing my forehead.” He stared at the ceiling and sighed. “It is a night of firsts.”

“In a lot of ways,” I said, rolling over so I could look him in the eye. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Monique said you screw all the new employees.” I watched his eyes for a reaction. “Is that true?”

“Not all of them,” he said with a grin. When I didn’t respond, he put his arms around me and pulled me close. “Can I tell you something, Alexandra Hart from Twin Falls, Idaho.”

“You can tell me anything.”

“When I saw you smiling at me in the orientation room, I knew that we would have something special. I can’t explain it, but you make me feel… I don’t know… you make me feel like I want to be a better man.”

Now I smiled. “I do?”

“You do. This is not just sex for me, Alex. This is something much more. I can’t define it yet, but I know this is not just a fling, at least not for me.”

I frowned at him. I certainly wasn’t expecting anything like this. I brushed my lips to his nipple and watched his eyes. “What does that mean?”

He shrugged with his eyes. “I have no idea. I’ve never felt this way. All I know is, I don’t want this to end.”

“You don’t want this night to end? Or… this?”

“Do all Idaho girls ask so many questions?”

“Just the ones who want to know where they stand,” I said.

“Come away with me,” he said suddenly. I blinked at him. “I have to leave town for a few days to close the Baby-Co deal, but when I get back, let’s get out of the city. We can go anywhere you like. London, Paris, the Bahamas, you name it, we can go there. Let’s really get to know one another.”

“Slow down, Mr. Shaw,” I said with a goofy face. “I have a new job, you know. I don’t think I can get time off.”

“I’ll talk to your boss.” He grinned at me. “Why don’t we just talk about it when I return next week.”

“Wonderful,” I said, resting my head on his chest.

I dozed off to sleep.

When I woke up to pee an hour later, he was gone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Cameron

I knew all hell was going to break loose the moment I stepped off the private elevator into my penthouse. It was around three in the morning. I’d just spent the best five hours of my life making love to the most amazing girl I’d ever met; a girl that I couldn’t get off my mind. And now I was going to have to pay for it.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

I heard Monique’s voice coming from the bedroom even before I opened the door. She was in bed, naked, lying on her back with her ankles crossed and the TV remote lying on her flat stomach. There was a bottle of scotch on the nightstand and two glasses. The room had the faint scent of an aftershave that I recognized.

“I’m tired,” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed to take off my shoes.

“You look like shit,” she said.

“I got caught in the rain.”

“You got caught in that girl’s pussy,” she said.

I glanced at the scotch glasses. “Looks like you had someone caught in yours, as well.” I stood up and shucked off my suit and tossed it in the corner. “I hope it was Mitchell, because if you brought another guy in here I’m going to have to pretend to be pissed, and I just don’t have the energy.”

“So, it’s all right for you to fuck someone else, but it’s not all right for me,” she said in a hurt voice. Monique was a lousy actress. She played hurt badly.

“You can fuck anyone you want,” I said, sliding into bed next to her. “And so can I. That was our deal. Remember?”

“Well, I’m not sure I like our deal anymore,” she huffed.

“Fine, let’s call it off,” I said with a yawn.

“You can’t be serious?”

I rolled my head sideways on the pillow to look at her. “I am totally serious. Let’s call it off. You and daddy go your way, and I’ll go mine. I think we’ll all be much happier in the long run.”

She stared at me for a moment. She had a look on her face as if she didn’t recognize me. Her eyes slowly widened. “Oh my god, you think you’re in love with this one. Oh my god.”

“What? No, that’s insane.”

“Then why else would you come home from fucking her, talking about calling off our wedding? I have a thousand-people coming in two months to watch us get married and I’ll be damned if I let you ruin that for me.” She jumped off the bed and headed toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To call my father,” she said, shaking a fist at me. “If I can’t make you control your cock, I’ll bet he can!”

I started to respond, but the weight of her statement pressed on my chest like a ten-ton elephant.

Did she really believe her daddy could control what I did? Did he think he could? Then I realized that yes, he could, if I wanted to take over both our companies.

She was also right about my motives for wanting to call the wedding off. What the hell was I thinking. Alexandra Shaw was just another hot girl I could add to my list. Was I seriously thinking about calling off the wedding and merger with Sebastian Ells because I was enamored of a young girl I barely knew? A girl young enough to be my daughter?

The concept was simply insane.

So why couldn’t I get Alex off my mind.

When I closed my eyes, I saw her lying there, arms outstretched, beckoning me to her again and again and again.

Fuck.

What was going on???

CHAPTER TWENTY -FIVE: Alex

When I told Vee that I had slept with Cameron Shaw on Friday night, she nearly choked on the raisin bagel we were sharing on the subway ride to work on Monday morning.

“No fucking way!” she squealed.

“Yes fucking way,” I said with a grin. I bit a hunk off the bagel and tried not to act like a giddy schoolgirl. “Every fucking way.”

“Look at you,” she said, giving me the eye. “Slept with the big boss in two days. Damn, girl, it took me almost a week to get Mitchell Ryan into bed.” She smiled for a moment, then let it fade away when she saw the dreamy look in my eyes. “You’re not falling in love with him, are you?”

“What? No! What kind of question is that?”

“Have you talked to him since he fucked you?”

I frowned at her. “No. He had to go out of town for a few days on some acquisition. Baby-Co, or something or other. He said he would see me the moment her returned.”

She sighed. “Idaho farm girl, comes to the big city, fucks a billionaire, and lives happily ever after. I don’t think it works that way with Cameron Shaw. He is engaged, you know.”

“That’s just business,” I said quickly.

“Like the mafia cutting off your head is just business.” She patted my hand. “Look, have fun, fuck his brains out, let him buy you some expensive stuff, but remember, you and him have very different lives. You can’t think he’ll ever be more than a sugar daddy to you.”

“I don’t want a sugar daddy…”

She squeezed my hand. “I’m just saying that you should have fun, but don’t expect too much from him. He’s not going to call off his wedding for you.”

“I know…”

“Just don’t get your heart broken. That’s all I’m saying.”

“I won’t,” I said quietly. I turned away so she couldn’t see the tears in my eyes. She was right. What the heck was I thinking? Did I really expect Cameron to leave Monique Ells for someone like me? Did I expect him to be waiting for me when I got to work, ready to scoop me up and carry me to my desk?

That shit happened only in the movies.

And this was no movie.

This was my life.

* * *

I slid my badge through the card reader at the security desk, but the little light on the reader blinked red rather than green. The burly security guard looked at my badge, then directed me to sit in a chair in the lobby while he made a call. I looked at Vee and forced a smile.

“Problem with my badge,” I said. “You go on, I’ll catch up.”

Vee gave me the look you’d give somebody when they told you they were going to die. She didn’t say anything. She just gave me a hug and disappeared into the crowd of people waiting for the elevators.

* * *

Betty, the HR lady, seemed very happy to let me know that my services were no longer required by Shaw Investments. She did not know the exact reason why my employment was being terminated and didn’t seem to care.

She simply said that the order had come down from the executive suite that morning and that was all she knew.

She handed me an envelope containing a check for four-weeks’ severance pay and asked the guard to escort me out the door.

I stood on the sidewalk, dumbfounded, with tears in my eyes and the heaviest sadness my heart has ever known.

I thought about calling Cameron, but realized I didn’t even know his number. I tried Vee’s cellphone as I made my way toward the subway station, but it went straight to voicemail. I knew there was nothing she could do. I just needed to hear a friendly voice.

Dammit, Alex, what were you thinking? I should have known something like this would happen. I’d given myself over too easily. I should have never slept with him. Our one night of pleasure wasn’t worth the repercussions it was having today.

Shit, who was I fooling.

I loved making love with Cameron.

I was so thrilled that he was my first. He made me feel amazing. I didn’t regret doing it and I would do it all again.

I wouldn’t change a thing.

At least I’d take the memory of my night with Cameron Shaw back to Idaho with me.

My big city adventure had come to an end.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: Cameron

I was feeling like a billion bucks. I had just closed the acquisition of Baby-Co Industries and was back on my Learjet headed for home. It had been nearly a week since I’d seen or spoken to Alex. I couldn’t wait to hold her in my arms again.

I’d done a lot of thinking while I was away. I had lost control of my life in pursuit of building an empire that controlled me, rather than the other way around.

Things were going to change when I got home.

Monique and her father wouldn’t like it, but it was time to follow my heart rather than the almighty dollar.

I had enough money. Now I wanted to be happy.

I wanted a life with the redhead from Idaho.

Strange, I called Alex’s cell every day, but it went straight to voicemail. I have a thing about leaving voicemails, so I just hung up, thinking that she’d see that I called and call me back.

I did not try to call her at the office. I was dealing with enough bullshit from Mitchell over the situation. I didn’t need more grief from anyone else there.

Mitch met me at the airport in the company limo. He gave me time to settle into the seat before showing me the stock ticker app on his phone.

“News of the Baby-Co acquisition certainly made Wall Street happy,” he said. “Shaw stock is up almost five percent.”

“Money in the bank,” I said with a sigh. I tugged my cellphone from inside my jacket and thumbed through the texts and voicemails I’d received while I was in the air. There was nothing from Alex.

“Something wrong?” Mitch asked, noticing the disappointed look on my face.

“I’ve been expecting a call,” I said. “From Alex. You must be keeping her loaded with work if she’s too busy to take my calls.”

“Yeah, about that,” Mitch said with a frown. “I had to let her go.”

My eyebrows show up like bottle rockets. “You what?”

“I had to let her go,” Mitch said, making a pained face. “She was a distraction you couldn’t afford. Sebastian, Monique and I thought it would be best if she wasn’t around, so...”

“Stop right there,” I said, putting up a hand. “Sebastian, Monique, and you? What, are you three a fucking team now? Everyone banded together to control my life?”

Mitch looked as if he was contemplating jumping out of the limo. He began to stammer. “No, I mean, it was Sebastian and Monique, but I agreed with them, so…”

“You fired her.” I said the words because he didn’t have the balls to do so.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Monday.”

“Jesus Christ, Mitch.” I rubbed the anger from my eyes. I knew this wasn’t Mitch’s doing. Mitch didn’t have the balls to cross me; unless Monique was squeezing his balls into doing so.

“Cam, please, try to understand. If you don’t marry Monique, there is no merger. And if there is no merger, you don’t take over both companies in a year.”

“And you don’t get a huge bump in pay and make millions off the stock deal,” I said, sounding much calmer than I actually felt. He was lucky I didn’t strangle him to death and toss his body over the Brooklyn bridge.

I shook my head at him. “It’s not enough that I let you fuck my fiancé. You have to fuck me, too?”

“Cam, dude, I swear…”

“Where is she?”

“Monique is waiting at the office.”

“Not Monique. Alex. Where is she.”

He tried to lie. “I have no idea.”

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Mitch, you have one chance to save your job and our friendship. I know you’re fucking the girl Alex was living with. Now, I’m going to ask you one more time. Where is Alexandra Shaw?”

“She went home,” he said quietly. “Back to Idaho.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: Alex

“Do you want another cup of coffee, dear?” Mom was already filling Fred’s cup before he could answer. They’d been together for so long they didn’t have to speak anymore. He smiled up at her from his newspaper and she kissed the top of his head.

“More coffee, Alex?” Mom asked. I shook my head, so she put the pot back on the burner and sat down across the breakfast table from me. She started talking about the number of pies she was planning to bake for some fundraiser at church. The moment I heard the word “fundraiser” I tuned out. The last fundraiser I attended didn’t end so well.

I’d been home for four days and every morning started the same. Fred read the morning paper as he ate breakfast, while Mom talked without anyone listening, and I picked at my breakfast and thought about Cameron.

I wondered what he was doing.

I wondered if he was thinking about me.

I wondered why he had me fired and now keeps calling my cell. I had resigned myself to not answer his calls. If he wanted to talk to me he could leave a voicemail explaining why he was such an asshole, then maybe I’d talk to him. Maybe.

“So I told Clara that if she wanted to bake pecan pies, I would do apple,” Mom was saying. She stopped short and turned an ear toward the window. “Is that a car I hear?”

“I dunno,” Fred said in his lazy drawl. He looked at me over his reading glasses. “You expecting company?”

“Nobody knows I’m here,” I said.

Mom looked out the kitchen window. “I don’t recognize the car. Good looking man getting out. Doesn’t look like anyone from around here. Wonder what he wants?”

“Why don’t you go ask him,” I said.

“Why don’t you,” Fred said with one eyebrow raised.

I frowned at him just as the visitor knocked on the front door. I rolled my eyes at Fred. “It better not be Perry.”

“It’s not,” Fred said, rustling the newspaper at me.

I carried my frown to the front door with me, but it left the minute I saw him standing on the other side of the screen door.

Cameron Shaw…

What the heck was he doing in Idaho?

* * *

“What? How? I mean, why?” Obviously, seeing Cameron again had taken away my ability to string words together. He smiled at me through the screen door.

“Hi, Alex,” he said. “Can we talk?”

I folded my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes at him. “What do we have to talk about?”

“I’ve been trying to call you for days,” he said, putting a hand on the screen. “You never pick up and I hate voicemail, so…”

“You had me fired,” I said, clenching my teeth. “After what we, I mean, how could you?”

“I didn’t have you fired, Alex,” he said.

“Yes, you did.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. And I’m not marrying Monique.”

“You’re not?”

“No. Will you give me a chance to explain?”

I felt my eyes flooding with tears as I pushed open the screen door and said, “I do. I mean, yes, I will.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: Alex

Idaho weddings are a little different from New York City weddings, especially weddings that happen as quickly as ours did.

For example, the church in New York City where Monique wanted to get married seated five thousand people.

The First Baptist Church in Twin Falls only seated four hundred. That meant that there were three hundred and ninety seats available the day we got married.

It was a very one-sided wedding. Mom and Fred sat on the front row on the bride’s side of the aisle. In the pews behind them sat an unhappy-looking Perry and a handful of aunts, uncles, cousins, and old high school friends. Just ten people in all.

There was no one sitting on the groom’s side, but Cameron could not have cared less. He was there only to marry me, not impress a roomful of socialites, reporters, and investors.

Mitchell had flown in to be Cameron’s best man and to my surprise, brought Vee along. She ended up being my maid of honor. Funny, Perry couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He looked at her like a kid in a candy store window. Maybe I just wasn’t Perry’s type. Who knew?

The ceremony was sweet and simple and over quickly. Reverend Chaney asked ahead of time if we wanted the long or short version. I said the shorter the better, since my future husband had refused to have sex with me again until our wedding night.

I swear, I had no idea Cameron was such a romantic. I would have never imagined in my wildest dreams that the cocky billionaire I met the first day at Shaw would be my loving husband in just a few weeks.

He said he’d done a lot of thinking and realized what was really important in life. I was just glad I had come in at the top of his list.

I was married in a white summer dress and no shoes. Cameron wore jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Mom was horrified at first that we were getting married dressed that way, but Fred calmed her down.

It turned out that Fred knew Cameron was coming for me. When Cameron couldn’t get me to pick up the phone, he found Fred’s number listed as my emergency contact on my resume and called him. Fred knew Cameron was coming the day before he arrived, but the old coot didn’t say a word to me. I’ll always love him for that because it was an amazing surprise.

I stared into Cameron’s eyes as the preacher read the vows. I wanted someone to pinch me to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

When Cameron slipped the simple band of gold onto my finger next to the engagement ring he’d bought at Kay Jewelers the day before in Twin Falls, my eyes filled with tears. He said he’d buy me a real ring back in the city, but I said this one would do just fine.

My engagement ring was a simple diamond set in rose gold. It was a fraction of the price of the one he’d given to Monique, I was sure, but I didn’t care. It was the greatest ring in the world and would never leave my finger.

We said our “I do’s” and I literally jumped into Cameron’s arms and pressed my lips to his.

It was a sweet, gentle kiss, full of love and hope and promise.

I couldn’t wait to get him alone.

Epilogue

“That was some reception,” Cameron said as he came out of the bathroom still damp from the shower. He rubbed a towel over his wet hair. “What was the name of that place? The Steak Barn?”

“The Steak Barn, home of the finest steaks in all of Idaho,” I said. I was stretched out naked on the motel bed waiting for him to consummate our marriage. Cameron refused to have sex in his new pal Fred’s house, so we rented a room at the Twin Falls Motel. He seemed to be getting a kick out of making me wait.

Cameron tossed the towel to the floor and climbed on top of me. I felt his cock rubbing against my clit. He lowered his lips to mine and sighed. “I love you, Mrs. Shaw.”

“I love you, too, Mr. Shaw.” I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him to me. “Now, be a good boy and fuck your wife.”

“With pleasure.”

Cameron pressed his lips to mine and started moving his hips, rubbing his cock back and forth over my clit. My pussy immediately responded with a flood of hot juices that lubed the underside of the shaft. I could feel his balls slapping at my pussy with each stroke.

I reached down and took his cock in my hand and tugged on it as his tongue explored my mouth. His cock grew to full length in my hand, making both of us sigh.

I guided the head into my opening and swished it around the juicy goodness to get it lubed. I no longer had my cherry, but my pussy was tight as a drum. That, according to Vee, was a very good thing.

I let go of Cameron’s cock and he slid into me an inch at a time.

Cameron kissed me as his cock slid in and out of me. My legs tightened around him. His pace quickened until he was fucking me with the speed and force of a jackhammer. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Every nerve ending in my body was on end as my muscles tensed and the blood rushed to my womb.

We came together and collapsed in each other’s arms; sweating, panting, laughing. We were as happy as two Idaho potato farmers at a French fry eating contest (another Fred saying, though I don’t think he ever applied it to something like this).

Cameron kissed me again and told me he loved me.

There was no pain this time.

There was only pleasure.

There would always be only pleasure.

THE END

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