Executive Engagement

I stare right back, but I can’t help but dart my eyes, going back and forth from her pupils to her tits. She smirks. She knows I’m looking.

I organize my thoughts. There’s one hard and fast rule I play by with all my ventures: never mix business with pleasure. In my experience, it clouds my judgement to do what is sometimes necessary to grow and succeed.

It’s why I could never open my own escort business. And why I need to beat out Hawk and win this bid.

However, I suppose I haven’t technically purchased the business yet. What could be the harm in indulging in a little fun right now?

As of this moment, Lizzie and I are simply two people alone in a room together. And I bet her pussy would cradle my cock like a holster to a gun.

“I have a better idea.”

So I grab her by the tits, pull her in close, and stick my tongue down her throat.

She doesn’t miss a beat. She pulls down her shirt, so her tits are now bare for me to grope. And then her hand shoots down into my pants.

Lizzie

Normally, when men grab me by the tits, I have them on the ground with my heel on their throat in about three seconds flat. Sometimes, if I’m feeling frisky, I let them show me what they’ve got just long enough for them to realize that they’re entirely in over their heads.

Somehow, I don’t think Darcy is the kind of man who can be so easily taken down by a woman half his size. I don’t think I’m about to have him proposing marriage after thirty seconds of dirty grinding, eit

her.

Darcy is cool. Level headed. Kind of an asshole. Might as well have the word womanizer tattooed on his gorgeous forehead. He’s the kind of guy who takes what he wants, when he wants it. Probably hasn’t ever heard the word no before in his life.

So, basically, he’s everything I want and exactly what I don’t need right now.

Darcy has big hands made for manhandling. Luckily, in the titty department I’m way more than a handful.

He knows exactly how hard to squeeze to put my body in that hurts so good territory. Once I’m there, I can’t stop thinking about where else I want him to squeeze.

Nipples.

I want his sexy, billionaire fingers pinching my nipples.

Fuck it. He’s been kissing me for less than a second and already it’s not fast enough. Suddenly, I realize exactly how my fans must feel when I’m running a show. Like they’ll do anything, pay whatever price they need to as long as it means more, more, more.

I shrug the straps of my top down off my shoulders and pull it down, bra and all, without even thinking about it. Screw business. This is desire, plain and simple. With any other man, I would argue that desire is my business, but with Darcy, we’re both misbehaving.

His tongue thrashes against mine as his rough hands kneed at my breasts. In my line of work, there’s so much looking…I have to rely on my own hands for physical stimulation. It honestly feels so fucking good to be touched for once.

My pussy totally agrees.

Darcy and I have gone from flirting around contracts to first base in a matter of seconds, and my panties are already soaked.

I arch against him, a tiny moan on my lips—but I’m not the kind of woman who’s about to whine and plead like I’m too scared to take what I want.

Fuck no. I’m hot for him, and I want it. I shove my hand down his pants and grab his big, fat, bad boy billionaire cock.

“Oh... fuck.” His lips curl against mine, halfway between an O-face and a sneer.

I squeeze the whole length of him—and that’s a whole lot of length—in my greedy little fist, relishing the feel. This is probably the first time I’ve actually heard him swear in person, I realize. That gets me off way more than it should.

I’m stroking every ounce of that cool, calm, collected facade out of him every time I move my wrist. Judging by the way he’s pinching my nipples, he’s enjoying it, too.

“You like that, don’t you?” I purr against his lips as I break away from our kiss.

“You can’t tell? Not very observant, are you?”