Sharing Samantha

“Good thing boy scouts always come prepared, huh?”

Her brow shoots up. “Are you serious?”

I half pull out the flask, and she grins.

“Are you an angel?”

I laugh. “So, since we’re in the dry house, you think there’s some place we can sneak off to?”

Her face goes red with a blush.

Good.

I want her mind going there. I want her pretty head going to dirty places when I say that. My eyes drag over her curved hips, her narrow shoulders, that blouse hugging the swell of her tits. That fiery red hair and those piercing green eyes.

…That mouth that I’m fucking dying to taste again.

“There’s always the garage?”

“Lead the way.”

I watch her walk in front of me through the crowd, off down a side hallway towards the garage. No, specifically, I watch her ass.

A lot.

And I groan. Fuck, that ass in that skirt does all sorts of magic to the rapidly growing cock between my thighs. It’s not even an especially brazenly sexy skirt or anything like that. It’s knee length and fitted, black, with slight little grey pinstripes running down it. And I’m fucking mesmerized as I watch it tease the backs of her thighs and hug that tight little ass.

She’s got on black heels, and the sleeveless white blouse has my balls tingling at the sight of her bare shoulders.

…Shoulders. I’m getting hard for fucking shoulders. It’s like I’m a fucking teenager again.

But really, it’s the whole package. It’s that body, and that stunningly gorgeous face. It’s the red hair that’s begging to be wrapped around my fist as she bounces that ass up and down my cock.

Fuck. I want her. Badly. And I know I’m not the only one who’d be into her. Gavin would fucking lose his mind over this girl, just as much as I am. I know my best friend like I know my shadow. And I know damn well he’d be as into her as I am.

We step into the garage, and she shivers, her hands going to her bare arms and rubbing them. It’s not as cold as it is outside with all that snow coming down, but it’s chilly in here.

She turns to me as I pull the flask out, and when I pass it her way, she grins as she takes a sip.

“Yikes,” she wheezes, her eyes watering. “Not what I was expecting.”

I chuckle. “And what were you expecting?”

“Would it be terrible if I said Chardonnay?”

I laugh. “Nope. Whiskey or nothing.”

“Right, now, I’ll take it.”

I grin, taking a swing from the flask before passing it back her way.

“I’m Sam, by the way.” She half blurts it out, eying me. “Well, Samantha.”

And suddenly, I freeze.

Oh fuck.

“McCue?”

She nods, not seeing the “oh shit” look on my face as she takes another sip.

“Yep.”

Double fuck.

The moment I saw her, I wanted her. Badly. And I still do. But, now I know who she is. Now, the red hair, the knowing her way to the garage so easily, it all makes sense.

I just kissed Samantha McCue. As in, Martin McCue’s stepsister. As in, the douchebag piece of shit junior VP of Prism Capital, the hedge fund that my buddy Gavin and I have been chasing after for months to sell our algorithm to.

Shit.

To be clear, Martin is a scumbag of the highest degree. Worse than even most greasy finance types. Trust me, Gavin and I both know, because we used to be in the finance game. But years ago, we pivoted to the technology side of things, quit our trading jobs, and started up North Star Analytics. Now, instead of spending twenty-four hours a day watching stocks, we use our background in math and programming to build algorithms that help hedge funds like Prism Capital stay sharp and on their game when it comes to trades and acquisitions.

…Yeah, super exciting stuff, isn’t it?

But that’s the reason I’m here, and why Gavin is on his way up from the city as we speak. That’s why the two of us, who hate assholes like Martin McCue and loathe Thanksgiving are spending it here in upstate New York with Martin and his mother.

…And his stepsister.

Because as much as I hate to say it, we’re here to suck up and kiss that prick’s ass. Martin’s a douche, but this is business, and selling to Prism will be our biggest move yet. Selling to Martin’s fund will open all sorts of other doors for us. Basically, it’s the most important sell of our lives.

It burns, because he really is a real piece of shit. But whatever. You do what you have to do. Gavin and I know that more than most. The two of us came from jack and shit. We stuck together to make it through the foster care system when both of his parents lit out and my mom finally overdosed. We worked our asses off, got our butts into a great college and then business school.