Send Nudes: A MMF Bisexual Romance Page 9

  Oh my.

  I tried, that’s all I have to say. I tried.

  I know Sophia wouldn’t have done better had she been in my situation. Hell, no one would have done better had they been in my situation. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that I feel a bit guilty.

  It was, after all, a guilty pleasure.

  “Oh my God,” Sophia whispers beside me.

  I turn to look at her. She has a look of surprise on her face.

  Fuck! She’s on to me.

  I squirm thinking up a good response, something to throw her off my scent. But all that keeps coming to me is Derek’s naked chest, and the impressive hard ridges that tighten his belly.

  My gosh, how I felt tracing those ridges with my fingers, even as he drove into me forcefully. The entire office shook. Oh, yes, it did.

  “You did it, didn’t you?” she says, understanding dawning on her.

  Then shock flashes across her face as she looks me up and down.

  “Did what?” I spit back, trying to feign shock.

  But that’s about as far as I go because, a second later, I break into a laugh.

  Sophia stands up immediately, frowning at me.

  “You. Fucking. Slut.”

  She’s smiling now.

  I laugh harder.

  “Honey, why did you?” she says, settling back into the seat.

  “Babe, I couldn’t help it,” I reply. “I tried. I did my best. Stayed away from him. Tried to limit all, uh, physical contact. But it just wasn’t working. It’s like, there were sparks between us, pulling us together.”

  “You just met him!” Sophia counters.

  “But, still…” I defend myself, thinking back to the times we spent in the elevator.

  Every second of that, I couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d slam the stop button and have his way with me.

  In fact, I wanted him to.

  I expected him to. I anticipated it. And I was very angry when he didn’t.

  When the elevator opened, and he said, “This way, Diana.”

  I don’t like it when a guy tries to be a gentleman, especially when I want him badly. Derek was being gentle. But I could see it in his eyes.

  He was going mad, as was I.

  I shake my head and sigh. “I couldn’t help it.”

  “You couldn’t help but sleep with a prospective employer?” Sophia says. “Do you even hear yourself? You sound fucking insane.”

  My lips twitch as a smile tries to tug them apart. I know Sophia is serious now, so I have to be as well. I fight off the laughter that bubbles in my throat and turn to look at my friend.

  “I won’t apologize, Sophie,” I say. “I mean, I didn’t go there wishing it would happen”—that might be a lie, but it’s not like Sophia can read minds—“it just did. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was on his table and he was…”

  “I don’t want to hear it!” Sophia says, making a face. She sighs and finally smiles. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted to remain objective.”

  “So, you knew I was going to…” I begin to say, but then stop as Sophia nods her head.

  “The signs were there,” she says. “I just didn’t want you thinking about it too much. It would have sent the wrong vibes, made you look desperate. Guys have a way of picking up on that.”

  “So, how did I do?” I say. “On a scale of one to ten?”

  “One,” Sophia says. “Because it’s not exactly good policy to sleep with a prospective employer. But considering all that has happened, I’d say we watch and see.”

  There’s silence.

  I’m left to my thoughts. And you know what that means, right?

  In my mind, I’m back at Sinful. I’m back in Derek’s office. I’m back in his arms…in those big, powerful hands. I’m naked, and his arms wrap around me possessively.

  “Tell me everything,” Sophia says finally.

  I do tell her everything. We laugh together about it from start to finish. When we’re done, we settle into silence once again.

  “I haven’t asked you the more important questions,” Sophia begins. “I don’t want to be a buzz kill, but you’ve got to think about your future. You’re not going to be the ‘girl in the picture’ forever.”

  Right. Way to kill the mood.

  “Yep,” I reply.

  “So, we need to get you a deal as soon as possible and build on your popularity.”

  “I know this already,” I grumble.

  “So, did you like Sinful?” Sophia says.

  I open my mouth to reply, but Sophia holds a finger up and says, “Aside from the sex and…you know, the handsome Derek.”

  I shut my mouth and have to think for a while. I realize that I never really considered these things. All I’ve been thinking about is Derek and the hot sex we had in his office.

  I never really thought about whether I’d like to work there.

  In fact, I can barely remember some of the conversations I had with people. As it turns out, Derek fucked them right out of my memory. Even now, it’s hard to think, when all I want to do is go to bed and fantasize all night about him.

  It doesn’t negate the fact that I have to make a decision, though. And to make a decision, I have to objectively consider Sinful. Otherwise, I would be making decisions on who fucks better and harder, or who looks better or—God forbid—whose underground garage is posher.

  I shrug.

  “Yeah, I guess,” I say. “I mean, they’ve got a lot of stuff going on there. He’s rich and handsome…” I stop myself as I realize I’m beginning to digress and talk about Derek.

  Sophia flashes me a knowing look, and we both laugh.

  “Don’t we first have to consider Lush before we come to a decision?” I ask her.

  “Indeed,” Sophia replies.

  “Kane’s is supposed to be in two days’ time,” Sophia says. “I’ve already alerted his office. What are you going to do about it?”

  And that’s how the subject of Kane comes up. I still have one more date.

  “Not sleep with him, for one,” I say, yawning as fatigue begins to creep into my body.

  “Let’s hope you don’t,” Sophia says.

  There’s no iota of confidence in her words. It’s as if she’s saying, let’s hope you don’t get your brains fucked out the second time.

  With a smile, I think, not that I’d mind.

  16

  Kane

  Fucking shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. Now, she’ll think I’m asking her out on a date when I’m not. Not really.

  Or am I?

  I remember leaving specific instructions upon reaching out to Sophia and asking to speak directly with Diana. Of course, it’s unusual to change meeting plans at the last minute, especially when the plans were made and confirmed by both parties several days ago.

  But it’s all part of my fucking master plan, babe. I’m supposed to have a meeting with Diana today at my office, but I’ve had my secretary call her and invite her to my estate in the evening for dinner instead. The idea is for us to have a formal business dinner at my house.

  I know Derek had her at his office, showed her the whole shebang. I have to do something different. Something personal. Something unlike me, because I anticipate that Derek will anticipate me and try to wow Diana in such a way that she won’t need me.

  In other words, I have to think outside the box. Usually, I prefer to just break the fucking box, but with Diana, I’ll do just about anything. Right until I have her.

  The thing with thinking outside the box is that you never really know. It’s why I’ve been antsy all day.

  I didn’t place the call directly. I had my secretary do it because I didn’t want Diana to feel too special. Women crave attention like addicts crave their fix.

  What’s the best way to get an addict into your grasp? Withdraw his drug of preference. Give him little doses. He’ll come running to you like a fucked-up animal.

  Diana has seen me wanting to
go to fucking war for her. She’s probably already addicted to me, being who I am. So now, I want to withdraw as much of me as possible, so she can come running into my arms.

  I’m not even going to try and overwhelm her.

  But all this is if she responds to my invitation, like I hope she does. Sadly, she hasn’t.

  I call my secretary using the intercom on my table.

  The moment my secretary picks up, I speak, cutting her off, “Has she gotten back to you, yet?”

  “No, sir,” she replies, her voice taut.

  It’s no hidden secret that my secretary doesn’t like the fact that I’m obsessing about a girl. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I’ve fucked her in this very office several times. She’s probably just fucking jealous.

  She doesn’t want me giving a fuck about other girls.

  Don’t worry, girl. There’s enough cock to go around.

  I slam the phone into its cradle, stand to my feet, and begin pacing my office.

  “Why hasn’t she fucking called back?” I ask, anxiously. “Fuck. What if she doesn’t come?”

  I’m immediately overwhelmed with fear. If she doesn’t come, then I’m finished. That’s what’s going to happen. Because that would mean I’ve blown my chances with her at worst or made a very bad impression at best.

  She may decide not to come and just up and sign with Derek. Or she may reschedule the meeting again, and I’d have to work doubly hard to impress her.

  Whatever the case, a lot hinges on her response.

  I look at my watch. It’s almost four. The dinner is supposed to be at six.

  I know that even if she calls by five thirty and tells me she’s coming, she can still make it. Nevertheless, I know girls well enough to know that if Diana doesn’t call any time soon, chances are she’s not going to.

  “Fucking shit!” I holler in my office, pacing back and forth like a fucking caged animal. “What the fuck did I do?”

  The silence of the office greets my question. Not even my secretary comes to see what’s wrong because she’s used to my outbursts and unruly nature. That’s how a captain of the fucking industry rolls, after all.

  I should have just gone with the office meeting! I think to myself.

  Second guessing myself is like second nature to me. But you wouldn’t know because it all happens in my mind. Outwardly, I’m the motherfucking chill dude who makes a snap decision and sticks the fuck with it.

  But inwardly, I’m a fucking lunatic.

  Like right now, I’m cursing the moment I thought up this brilliant idea of having Diana come to my house.

  What was I thinking? Of course, she’s going to suspect I have other things planned when, honestly, I don’t. Even if I did, it’s not as important as the fact that I really do want her to come work for Lush.

  I know she’s going to fit right in. My people would love her. She’ll be a star, a big-time success.

  We can make it happen. I just don’t feel the best place to make her see this is my office. My house, however, is just apt for this sort of thing.

  Only now, though, she’s probably thinking of me as a fucking pervert.

  I mean, dinner at my place? It’s not as though we’ve dated. She doesn’t even fucking know me. Yet, I want her to come to my house? Fuck!

  I was about to yell again when the intercom buzzes.

  “What?” I growl into the phone the moment I pick it up.

  “She called,” my secretary says flatly. “You’re on for dinner this evening.”

  “Fucking—!” I scream into the phone before I slam it into its cradle.

  “Who’s the FUCKING man?” I roar at the intercom. “I’m the FUCKING man!”

  I pump a fist into the air, going YES! I did it! Project Nuke Derek and Get the Fucking Hot Chick is a fucking go!

  I don’t waste another second in the office. I place a call to the chef in my house and tell him to plan for dinner with a very important client.

  I trust my chef. Any time I’ve ever given him such a call, he’s always gone above and beyond the call of duty and delivered perfectly.

  Why wouldn’t he when he has me as a perfect example?

  “What time’s the dinner, sir?” he asks right after he’s received my instruction.

  “Six,” I say into my cell phone, which is wedged between my cheek and my right shoulder because I’m slipping into my jacket as I talk.

  “Six is too close, sir,” he says.

  I don’t respond because I know what comes next.

  “But I’ll make it work.”

  “Fucking right you will,” I boom. “If you want to keep your job.”

  And then I cut the phone. I shouldn’t be this much of an asshole, but, fuck it—there’s a lot on the line right now.

  I burst into the reception of my office. My secretary sees me carrying my briefcase, and she stands.

  “Going somewhere, sir?” she says.

  “Well, I have a business dinner to attend to,” I say. “Remain at your desk until end of day. I don’t pay you executive wages for nothing.”

  I see the darkness settle on her face, and I smile. I’m the fucking man.

  Now, don’t think I treat my employees like shit. I don’t. I pay them much more than I should, and I make sure everyone gets treated fairly.

  I just don’t like it when chicks try to climb the corporate ladder using my dick.

  I ride the elevator down to the ground floor where my driver is waiting to carry my briefcase. He leads me to my limo, which awaits me in the driveway of the Lush Building.

  The drive to my serene, expensive-as-fuck estate is quiet. In my mind, I’m rehearsing all the things I have planned; all the words I will say, all the surprises I have in store.

  I laugh sinisterly to myself and then catch the curious look of the driver in the rearview mirror.

  “Something fucking wrong?” I speak out loud.

  “No, sir,” he replies, terrified.

  The first thing I do when I get home is to ensure everything is in order. Everyone knows what’s happening and what they should do right from when Diana’s cab drops her off at my gate. I speak to the security personnel, the chef, the butler, the maids, every-fucking-body.

  Once I have them running around like soldiers, I go into my room to prepare.

  This occurs at exactly five. I don’t come out until it’s fifteen minutes to time. I’m wearing my tailored Armani suit, and a fucking limited-edition Rolex on my wrist.

  I look fresh as fuck.

  Right on time, I hear a car engine. I look through the curtains and see the figure of a woman getting out of a cab in the driveway.

  The dinner is supposed to take place on a special patio on the second floor, just adjacent to one of the many gorgeous living rooms in my massive mansion. So, I rush to the patio and wait for Diana there.

  I see that the chef has made good on his word and prepared the entire table well.

  There’s a very impressive spread of food on the large dining table. Even I’m fucking impressed.

  He never does this for me, I want to bicker.

  Maybe the threat of losing his job inspired him. I file that little thought away somewhere in my mind, just so I can return to it later.

  I could have had the dinner done in the dining room on the ground floor. But then, how would I show her some of my impressive accolades, awards, and trophies that litter the walls of my mansion? Tell me—how?

  I have instructed the butler, who’s now leading Diana through the long way to the second-floor patio, to take the time to talk about my many accomplishments, and about how I’m such a good boss. I promised to give him a raise if she’s impressed with his rendition, so I know he’ll do a perfect job.

  He’ll be Alfred, and I’ll be Bruce fucking Wayne.

  I wait in the living room for another twenty minutes before the butler opens the door and shows Diana in.

  My jaw hangs open.

  I don’t even know how to fucking r
eact.

  She slides into the room dressed all in red, her luscious form hugged by the ravishing red fabric of a tailored gown. Even her perfectly round hips seem so fucking perfect that I can’t think of anything else but kissing them.

  “Kane,” she says with a warm smile, approaching me.

  It’s as though an angel approaches. An angel I want to fuck badly. For a moment, that’s the only thought on my mind.

  I forget my manners. I forget my carefully planned strategies. I forget Derek and the threat he poses.

  All I want to do is get her on her knees and make her suck my dick.

  But I hold myself back and smile at her.

  I spread my arms lazily and say, “Welcome to my humble abode.”

  She laughs. “You abode is anything but humble.”

  I’m actually surprised by how relaxed she seems.

  I laugh. “Guilty.”

  “Come,” I continue. “Let’s eat.”

  Once we’re both seated, I pour her a drink.

  “I don’t think I want to drink that wine,” she says.

  I ignore her and keep pouring. “Why not?”

  “Because I’m in your house,” she simply says.

  I look up at her with a knowing smile. “So?”

  She arches an eyebrow. “So? I don’t want to do anything stupid.”

  “And what’s bad about stupid?” I say.

  The question, sort of, dumbfounds Diana. She just stares at me, her mouth parted in surprise. Then she presses her lips together and smiles, taking the drink I offer her.

  “So,” I say. “A toast. To Derek’s fucking proposition and going with me instead.”

  She bursts into laughter, which delights me.

  “If that’s what you want, I’ll drink to it. It’s your house anyway.”

  Our glasses clink together, and I sip the wine, closely watching her. She sips her wine, too, watching me.

  We begin to talk.

  First, I give her the pep talk about Lush and everything we do. I compare Lush to Sinful, and of course, I diss Sinful every time I do it.

  I tell her she’s better off with us, and that Sinful would just use her and dump her…just like Sky.

  Then I tell her about Sky, though I don’t tell her about how she sucked my dick before.