Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“The day care is moving forward,” Ana says. “I reached out to a woman named Iris—who owns a childcare agency that specializes in partnering with employee-sponsored childcare programs—to get the ball rolling. We went over the specifics and created a plan. If all goes well, the childcare should be up and running in late spring.”
“So much good is happening here,” Samuel says. “It saddens me to think about retiring at the end of the year, but I know that Kingston will thrive, no matter who takes my place.” He clears his throat. “Which leads me to your next task.” He glances from Ana to me. “You guys did so well working on the club event together. I’d like you to work together again to come up with a plan for a corporate event.”
“If you keep having us work together, how will you determine who should be the CEO?” Ana asks.
“Working together is a big part of running a company,” Samuel says with a shrug, not elaborating any further. “I’d like for it to be held at the end of the month. Something everyone can enjoy and bring their families to. Once you have an idea, let me know, and we’ll schedule a meeting.”
He closes his laptop and stands. “I’m proud of the way you both have stepped up,” he says sincerely. “A couple of months ago, I was worried about leaving, but you’ve shown me that Kingston will be in good hands.”
With a soft smile to Ana and me, he makes his exit, leaving us alone.
“So, what are your thoughts?” I ask.
“I don’t know. He seemed off, didn’t he?”
I was referring to the corporate event idea, but now that she brings it up …
“I think he’s just getting emotional. This company has been his life for years, and in a few months, he’ll be stepping back and letting someone else be in charge. Sure, I handle most of the day-to-day stuff now, but he’ll no longer have a title. It’s probably starting to feel real.”
“Yeah,” she says with a nod. “You’re probably right. Any ideas for the corporate event?”
“Not off the top of my head. I have a few things to take care of, and then I’ll focus on that. Want to discuss it over lunch?”
“Only if lunch involves you eating me,” she says with a smirk.
“You’re horny this morning.” I drag her rolling chair closer to me. “Not that I’m complaining, but it’s not like you to instigate sex in the office at nine in the morning.” I tuck a hair that’s fallen out of her bun behind her ear.
“Well, maybe that’s a sign my husband needs to step up and satisfy me,” she says haughtily.
I throw my head back with a laugh. “The sex on the plane and in the shower last night and again this morning wasn’t enough?”
“Look, if you can’t keep up …”
“You know damn well I can,” I growl, leaning in so our mouths are only inches from each other. “I’ll see you at noon. I’ll order lunch, and you bring the dessert.” I peck her lips. “And by dessert, I mean your sweet pussy.”
“A picnic.”
“Lame.”
“A beach day,” Ana volleys.
“Double lame.”
She glares at me. “Okay, what’s your amazing idea?”
She brings her chopsticks to her pouty lips and pops a piece of sushi into her mouth, and for a second, I’m so distracted by her that I forget what we’re talking about.
“Is it time for dessert yet?”
She rolls her eyes. “Sure, as soon as you agree that a picnic or a beach day is perfect for the corporate event.”
“Anastasia Parker,” I mock. “Did you just offer me sex in exchange for me agreeing to go along with your idea? Tsk-tsk,” I chide. “That’s not very legal.”
“One, it’s Anastasia Kingston-Webb. And two—”
Before she can finish her sentence, I have her thrown over my shoulder, and I’m walking her over to the couch. When I drop her onto her back, she bounces slightly.
“Julian!”
“What’s your last name?” I ask, caging her in with my arms while I pin her hips with my own.
“I haven’t changed it yet,” she says, squirming under me.
My wife might have an exterior as hard as a concrete wall, but all it takes is me offering up my cock, and she turns into a puddle of liquid.
“I don’t give a fuck,” I tell her, reaching between us. Today, she’s wearing a flowy dress that buttons down the front, giving me easy access. “What’s your last name?”
She shoots a defying glare at me, and I push her tiny excuse for underwear aside and thrust two fingers inside her.
“You gonna tell me?” I ask, pumping them in and out of her while my thumb massages her clit.
“Kingston,” she gasps, playing games.
My fingers go deeper, harder, and she moans, only a few strokes away from detonating.
“Try again,” I warn. “And if you answer wrong this time, I’m going to stop.”