Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
"On your knees," I instruct, pulling my cock out.
She gives me another wicked grin and complies. I angle my cock toward her mouth and she takes me in, parting those plump red lips of hers, and moving up and down my shaft.
As soon as I throw my head back, I fucking explode. My cock is twitching and pumping white-hot arcs of cum into her mouth, on her lips, and on her face as she continues to milk me with an insatiable hunger. She's looking up at me and holding my gaze, her mascara slightly smudged with sweat and cum.
I return her gaze with a smile.
But that smile doesn't last long because before I can even put my cock back in my fucking pants, the door to my office flies open.
The force of it knocks a picture off the wall.
When I look at the door, I see her—Wanda Seymour—a devil dressed in Louboutin heels so sharp that the carpet buckles under each step she takes. When she lifts her heels, I notice that those iconic red soles match the blood red shade of her lips. It's an uncanny comparison.
"Well, look what we have here," she smirks. She's holding her phone in one manicured hand, snapping photos of the scene. I look down and realize that my fucking cock is still in Mandy's mouth.
Fuck. This can't be good. What's she doing here?
"It's—it's not what it looks like," Mandy pleads.
"Oh really?" Wanda says, her eyes glowing like coals.
"He coerced me, I swear," Mandy says, trying to wipe up the lingering cum off of her cheeks.
"Could this scene be interpreted any other way? Because it looks pretty obvious to me," Wanda laughs.
"I what?" I ask, lifting my pants up and looking back at Mandy. Now I'm really fucking confused.
Mandy doesn't answer me, and instead, quickly straightens herself up and leaves my office.
Wanda smiles and settles herself into one of my leather chairs. She has one leg crossed over the other, which mirrors her arms folded across her chest.
The way she crosses her arms pushes her tits up even more than her low-cut blouse already does, and I can't help but notice how perfect each one would fit inside of my mouth right about now.
I shake that thought from my head. I can't be thinking about wanting to fuck Wanda right now. Besides, she's the devil incarnate.
"What do you want?" I ask.
"Let's cut to the chase," she smiles.
I reach for a bottle of bourbon that I keep tucked in my desk. I figure whatever she's about to say can't be good, and the only way I'm going to be able to hear her out is if I chase it with a stiff drink.
I pour a couple of ounces of the amber liquid into a glass.
"Go on," I say.
"I have a long list of things you can do for me."
"And what makes you think I'm going to do that?" I ask.
She smiles and pulls her phone from her purse. "Let's see," she says, scrolling through her photos, "I think this picture is particularly compelling, don't you? Do you think the media would agree?"
She flashes her phone toward me. On the screen I see myself, a startled look on my face, pants down, cock standing in the center of the frame like a fucking totem pole, and Mandy on her knees, wide-mouthed.
"You wouldn't," I say.
"I would, Derek," she grins, "And I will, if you don't do as I say."
"You're a self-sufficient woman," I reply. "What's so important that you need my help?"
"This is about Eliza."
Fuck. Hearing that name makes me freeze. It's been years, and now here Wanda is, bringing the past right in front of my face. I shake my head.
"I don't know what you've got planned, but I don't want anything to do with it," I say.
Wanda just laughs, and scrolls through the contacts in her phone.
"That's fine," she shrugs. "I'll go ahead and start dialing every major reporter in this city. They'll love this lead."
Hearing her say this makes my stomach drop. I know she's telling the truth. She wouldn't hesitate for a moment to crush me.
I look up at the ceiling again.
"Wait," I say. "Don't do that. Tell me what you need." Just hearing the desperation in my voice makes Wanda smile.
She looks up from her phone and grins. "I'm glad you're coming to your senses. Now, where were we? Ah yes, that's right, we were talking about Eliza. Let's start from the top."
Fuck.
What have I gotten myself into?
I look to the ceiling above my desk.
Agreeing to work with Wanda is like wrestling with a scorpion. Sooner or later, you're going to get stung. It's an inevitable fact.
I just hope that this time … it isn't fatal.
Chapter Two
Eliza
The Mile High Club. It’s not exactly an exclusive club, but I figure I can call myself a VIP member. You know what I’m talking about right? This isn’t a credit card membership with reward points; I’m talking about getting hot and dirty while forty thousand feet up in the air.