Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
"And guess what else?" Chase continues. "She's fucking hungry. Just out of Harvard."
"Ahh, my alma mater." I think about the type of girl that would have attended Harvard and I try to picture her.
She'll likely be blue-blooded unless she didn't come from money. But to make it to Harvard means she has a strong head on her shoulders at the very least.
"What else do we know?" I ask, helping myself to some of his fine scotch, trying to pry for some details on her looks.
He pushes a file across his desk and I take a seat to thumb through it. Everything looks in order except there's no picture. I’m a little disappointed I don’t get to see what she looks like, but my cock still twitches at the thought of having a new submissive, especially one recommended by Sebastian.
"She looks good," I say, handing the file back to him.
Just then there's a knock on the door and Adam comes in. He looks...heightened.
"What's up with you man?" I ask.
"Oh, I just fucked Tiffany," he says playfully.
"Hmm, why am I not surprised? Do you two ever do any real work around here or do you just spend your days sampling the goods?"
"Um," Adam says. "I think you know very well how good it can be."
"Yeah," Chase says, still smirking. "Sharing is caring."
"And we share everything," I add. "So, what's with this new girl?"
"You found the scotch!" Adam says. Evidently he's portioned some for himself.
"It's the best," he winks at Chase.
"We haven't hired her yet," Chase says, serious as ever. "We'll do it later. But listen, she better be smart and not just a piece of ass."
Adam throws up his hands as if he's fucking offended or some shit.
"Always."
Yeah right. He knows we hire new women that we want to fuck. Sure, there's actual members of this firm doing actual work. But we bosses? We like to have our playthings. And it's our every right given how much they're begging for it and how much it helps their career.
"She's going to be fucking gorgeous," Adam says.
"You don't know that," Chase states, ever the skeptic.
"Well, she’d better be feisty. I'm sick of these girls coming in who don't give a fuck about their career and who don't stand a chance of helping us accomplish anything. But…a bombshell body won’t hurt either," I remark.
"You're too serious," Adam says, throwing me a signed baseball from Chase's desk.
I catch it easily, even while maintaining my scotch in one hand.
"You've got it coming," I rib. "Besides someone has to be businesslike around here."
"Whatever," Adam says.
He's horny as fuck and I don't know why. He just tasted Tiffany.
"Fine. I'll see you, boys, later."
"Later," Adam says as I hand my scotch off to him.
I go back to my office to deliberate alone about what a new girl sent by King could mean. I have my hopes. I'm sick of playing the field and never feeling passionate about anyone.
It's one thing to fuck a beautiful girl, but it's quite another to want to dominate her to the point that you can't fucking think of anything else. If my intuition is right in this case, and it usually is, she’ll fit the bill just right.
I let it go to get some work done, but the interview's in the back of my mind. I'll just have to see her to know. I can tell from the first look what she's made of. It's part of my skill as a political entrepreneur. I have a sixth sense about bullshit.
Nicole
I'm running late for my appointment at Holt, Banks, and Shea. It's just like me to be late on an occasion like this. I step into my pantyhose outside of the building and then slide on one Jimmy Choo before the other.
People are staring at me—gawking, actually—but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do to get noticed.
That means I've had to change from my work clothes to my business clothes on the fly. I didn't have the time to stop in a restroom somewhere, so I've turned my bartending attire into something suitable for the meeting.
Well, actually, I'm not sure torn-up skinny jeans and a crop top would be suitable for this interview, but it certainly gets me tips at The Crown Club where I work. It's a bar full of college students mostly, yuppies who are easy to handle and to cajole tips from.
I'm beyond anxious about being interviewed for this firm, I can't even begin to tell you. There are butterflies in my stomach, and I’m afraid I’ll break into cold sweat and ruin my immaculately done makeup.
Mostly, I'm nervous about meeting the guys at this firm—my future bosses Adam, Cameron, and Chase. They're power players in town, and they hold real political sway.
Me? I'm just a recent college grad who spends her nights pouring shots for drunk college kids.