Executive Engagement

But fucking Lizzie was different. It was like I never wanted it to end. I wanted to be inside her all night long while she rode my cock.

It was passionate, and I don’t believe she could have faked something like that with Hawk or anyone else.

“Do you want me to look into other acquisitions? There are a few prospects on the table,” Chuck says. I realize I don’t know how long I’ve been staring out the window. It could have been 30 seconds or 30 minutes.

“Give me some time to think this over. This acquisition isn’t done yet.”

“There’s plenty of pussy in the sea,” Chuck says. It takes every ounce of my being not to punch Chuck in the face right now. But I remain professional.

I go back to my seat.

“Why don’t you go to a bar, Chuck? There’s bound to be some bored housewives there drowning their sorrows in the middle of the day.”

Failing to catch my sarcasm, Chuck jumps out of his seat and says, “Oh, damn! You’re right. I’ll talk to you later, Darcy. And I’ll send over those other prospective deals.” Chuck leaves the room.

Part of my mind is telling me to call up an escort to get a good revenge fuck in. I can’t help but feel as though Lizzie betrayed my trust by spending time with Hawk without informing me. I pick up the phone, ready to call my usual service.

But something holds my hand back. There’s another number I want to call.

I dial Lizzie’s number.

One ring sounds off. Then two. Pick up, Lizzie, just please pick up.

That’s when I hear her answer.

“Hello?” she says.

“I understand Hawk won over Catherine.”

“I wouldn’t say won her over. He bid more money, but honestly, I think Catherine likes you a little more.”

“From what I hear, you played a pretty big role in the

acquisition. Apparently, you met with Hawk to talk about the deal, and that’s why he bid more.”

There’s a silence on the other end of the line. I suspect Lizzie realizes she’s been caught in a situation she did not want to be caught in.

“All the girls met with him. It’s pretty typical with these kinds of deals,” she responds. “I know what your next question is going to be, and let me assure you that I didn’t fuck him. I didn’t give him a blowjob. Nothing like that happened. He simply bid more money.”

Her statement is direct and to the point. Being direct is something I admire about Lizzie, but in this instance, it simply makes it harder to read her.

I can’t help but feel as though she’s trying to pull one over on me. I need more information. And there’s only way one to get it.

“Why don’t you come over to my penthouse tonight for dinner? It’ll give us a chance to talk.”

“Your penthouse? That seems like a big step,” she replies.

She’s not wrong. I never bring women to the penthouse. Most of the time, I save most of my activities with women to the office or the backseat of a car.

But I need information out of Lizzie, and I feel most confident I can get it if we’re on my home turf.

“So what do you say?” I ask.

“I’ll be there,” she says.

“I’ll text you the address,” and then I hang up the phone. Tonight, I’ll finally have all the answers I’m looking for. I’ll get them one way or the other.

Lizzie