Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 46943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“These the spreadsheets?” I asked, eyeing the sheaf of paper.
My cousin nodded.
“Yeah, this is it. Let me know if you have any questions,” he said rolling his eyes before turning and walking away.
I fingered the papers unenthusiastically, staring at his disappearing back. Because my cousin and I founded NYC Concierge together a year ago, it was my idea and Hunter agreed to come on-board to bring it to life. During business school I’d noticed a gap in the market and strove to take advantage of the opportunity. It’s always been an asset of mine, this ability to spot openings and manipulate them before anyone else got there, getting a first-mover’s advantage.
Because sure, there are tons of door-to-door delivery services in the city, heck even Fresh Direct was getting into the game, going beyond mere groceries and expanding into personal care products and beauty items. But I wanted NYC Concierge to go beyond that. I was intent on creating a personalized elite delivery service, one where you could order absolutely anything and have it arrive on your doorstep within the hour if possible, no questions asked.
What set us apart was our technology. Like Uber and Lyft, we were app-driven, you ordered using your cell and we’d provide a countdown ticker to estimate wait time. That way, customers could leave the house, take their dog for a walk and run errands, all without worrying about missing the delivery guy.
Of course, you can request a specific delivery person as well. That’s part of the charm, part of the “elite” aspect. A lot of rich people only want to work with people they already know, and this way we could gain their trust, build bridges before mining the one percenters for more.
But of course, in our beta stage, NYC Concierge was open to everyone, we needed to test this shit, get everything going like clockwork before we restricted our service to the elites. And that’s how the lovely Laurie came to find us, ordering her bottle of shampoo and soaps. NYC Concierge had been doing some select promotions where people of any net worth could use our services, but the program was destined to be short lived at best. It’s not that we didn’t want to deliver shampoo and laundry detergent, that hardly mattered. It was the prices we planned on charging. That’s right, we’re working on a tiered payment system and for our bronze members, the cheapest category, monthly membership would be a flat ten thousand dollars fee. So yeah, this wasn’t going to be a service for just anyone, more like folks who flew in helicopters or had their own private jets.
And in the meantime, fuck but this promotion was the best idea I’d ever had because it’d led me to the juicy virgin, her firm, fine form so succulent and tasty. I leaned back in my chair again, lost in my thoughts. Laurie was fucking amazing and my cock stirred a little just at the mental image of her. A virgin? How often did that happen in NYC? Girls these days lost their v-cards so early, in junior high practically. So to find an adult woman, shy and unassuming, with her hymen intact had been an incredible turn-on, and I was on it in a flash.
And fuck, de-virginizing her had been amazing because the brunette was a slut, hands down. Letting me push my tongue into her ass? Coming hard that way, without any stimulation to her pussy? She was so sensitive, so attuned to my big body that that was all it took, I’d thrust into those sweet folds, feeling her barrier break, her shocked cry and indrawn breath all the proof that I needed that she was truly untouched, a nubile, creaming girl.
And fuck, but I wanted more. Laurie was coming over tomorrow night and I wanted to make it special for her. Of course I was going to devour her again, help myself to a huge heap of tasty twat and ass, but I wanted her to be comfortable, to relax, to reveal the full sweetness of her nature. Every time I looked at her, those big brown eyes danced, her pink pout slightly open, begging me to kiss her. And I was going to, after I inhaled her form, savoring every sweet curve, every sassy jiggle of her plump body. Fuck yeah, I was going to treat this woman well, stop at no lengths to romance her like she deserved.
But my thoughts of tomorrow night were rudely interrupted because Hunter had come striding back, his gaze suspicious.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he asked, waving another sheaf of papers under my nose. “What the fuck? Why did it take you half an hour at this one chick’s place?”
Goddamnit. The technology that was our strength was also a pain in the ass at the moment because of course my cousin knew exactly where I’d been, how long I’d lingered at each stop, how long each delivery took. I growled at him, my hackles rising, but then forced myself to calm the fuck down. No need to let the cat out of the bag, might as well be professional, this was a business after all.