“A lady friend of mine suggested that I lighten up the wardrobe a bit, sir,” he tells me a bit stiffly.
For everything that’s going on with Luca Gianoni and the divestiture, I can’t help but laugh out loud like a fucking kid.
“I didn’t know you were dating someone, Gerard!” I say out loud.
“I’d prefer not to talk about that now,” he says to me, a bit flustered. “Already too many changes in my life, if you know what I mean.”
He looks at me and I nod. I know exactly what he’s talking about.
But still, I can’t get the thought out of my head. How different my lawyer is now than say six months ago. Back then, if you said you saw him in a tie with hearts on it, he’d tell you to go fuck yourself.
I mean, I totally get it. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not fucking complaining.
Ashley does the same thing to me.
I’m thinking about this as I sit in my limo as I leave Gerard’s office and head uptown.
In the short amount of time I’ve known her, I’m doing things that the old me would have had a fucking heart attack if he ever saw.
Forget the one and done policy of one night sex, or at most the ‘use ‘em and lose ‘em’ philosophy of two weeks of raw lust and then a diamond necklace and a Dear John, I’m starting to go to the ‘Till Death Do Us Part’ side with this woman.
It doesn’t help probably that we’re always so close by. Ashley loves cavorting around my apartment; it’s so much bigger at One57 than the tiny rat-hole that she lives in near Penn Station. And sure, I want to do different things for her. To protect her and keep her happy. So it’s no surprise I’ll join her in making dinner—even though I have a perfectly decent personal chef.
It's just that I've never felt the way I do with Ashley with anyone. Not a single fucking person I've ever met. And the things that she does, when other girls tried it on me, I'd fucking snort and it would slide right off me. When Ashley does it, it looks so cute it seriously melts my fucking heart.
Don’t believe me?
Well first off, I don’t fucking care if you believe me or not, but just to show you, let’s take what happened yesterday.
I was in my office in Midtown, wrapping up some meetings.
Now, I see the gears in your brain trying to figure this out so let me just explain real quick. I may be trying to get rid of Dad’s fucking smut empire, but I’m also having to manage the vast amount of money. That’s a fucking job in and of itself.
But all of a sudden, who do we have but Ashley walking into my office around 3 pm.
“Arsen, can we go to dinner tonight?” she asked me, batting her beautiful fucking eyes. Normally girls bat their eyes at me and I immediately get all fucking defensive. I was exhausted as fuck—having to wake up at 6:30 in the fucking morning after having hours of sex the night before will fucking do that to you. But I looked at her, and all I could say was, "Sure, Ashley. I'll have one of the girls outside make some reservations to Per Se."
Now, my personal secretaries are more than capable of making me dinner reservations and letting me know, but in this instance, I followed up with them three times to make sure it was fucking perfect. And then I made sure my car was ready and I even got to Ashley’s apartment ten minutes ahead of time. As if I had nothing better to do than take this woman out to dinner.
But let me tell you, when she finally did come down, it was completely worth the fucking wait. I would have waited a whole fucking month just to see her in that amazing blue dress that was tight in all the right places, hugging her curves and emphasizing her slender but still curvy body. All of a sudden, being exhausted completely left my mind and all I wanted to do was fuck. I tried not to stare at her wolfishly as she turned away from me and began walking to the car, swaying her ass. She knew that I was staring too, because she stopped before getting in, turned her head back to me, and asked me with a leer, "Feeling all right, Arsen?"
"I just want to fuck you so badly right now, Ash," I told her, not holding back any punches. And I did. I wanted to pound her doggie style with my 12-inch cock till we both collapsed from cumming too hard.
"Always the romantic," she teased before she got into the limo.
I could see the outline of her thong against that skirt, it was so tight. I know you’re not supposed to see visible panty lines, but I’d seen her ass so many times, I could tell where it was.
All through dinner, she gave me flirty smiles and kept my cock hard till I couldn't wait to get her back to my condo. I kept imagining bending her over and having her hold onto the windows in my living room as she stared out into the urban canyons of New York City as I fucked the living daylights out of her.
But she just leaned back into me into the car and nestled her head on my chest. I could smell her shampoo.
“Arsen, I’m really sore from last night and this morning,” she mewled in a little voice. She was talking into my chest and I had my arm wrapped around her protectively. “I don’t know if I can have sex again tonight.”
What the fuck? After keeping my cock hard all through dinner with that fucking dress and that fucking back and forth, I was like a coiled spring. I would have been pissed off with any other girl. But Ashley? I just brought my lips to the top of her head and gave it a light kiss.
"That's okay, babe," I said softly. "You're not going anywhere. We can chill tonight."
She looked up at me with those adorable eyes. "Really?" she asked. I nodded.