ARROGANT PLAYBOY (51 page)

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Authors: Winter Renshaw

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“Throwing this away.” I grab
the melting cup of chocolate grossness and trudge to the nearest trash
receptacle, chucking it just hard enough not to cause a scene.

Cortland stands up and walks
over to me placing his hands on my shoulders and turning us so our faces are away
from the watchful eyes of my parents. “Keep sweet, Bellamy. Don’t make a scene.
Remember, they’re watching us.”

He turns behind us before
glancing around the small ice cream shop.

“Follow me.”

“Where are you going?” I ask.

He says nothing, but I follow
him to a small alcove behind the front of the shop because what other choice do
I have?

“I’ve been dying to get you
alone for weeks,” he says, the second we’re hidden from view. His lips press
into the flesh below my jaws, and his greedy hands slip over my breasts taking
squeezing handfuls.

“What are you doing?” I push
him off me with what little resistance I have against his sturdy build.

He pushes his whole body into
me again, ignoring my obvious discontentment with his behavior.
 
“Don’t you miss this, Bellamy? You, me,
backseat of my car. I miss your taste, your scent, those lips wrapped around
the best part of me.”

Cortland’s hips jut into mine,
and I feel his hardness through the fabric that separates us.

“You’re so addictive,” he
moans.

I inhale a mixture of frigid
air, dairy smells, and Cortland’s cheap aftershave, but right now I’d give
anything for a whiff of Dane’s cologne. He smells like fine soap and expensive
leather and top shelf whiskey and the kinds of things I’d never dreamed about
until I met him.

“Soon,” he breathes into my
ear. “Soon, we’ll be married, and I can have all of you, all the time.”

That’s
what you think.

“We’ve only been courting for
seven weeks officially,” I say. “I’m not on some fast track to getting married.
I still need to decide if you’re right for me.”

“The decision’s been made,
sweetheart.” His hand runs from my right breast down the s-curve of my hip
before settling on my backside where he gives it a commanding squeeze.

I fight the wave of tears that
threaten to consume me. Powerlessness has never been a good look for me.

“We should get going. My dad’s going
to wonder where we went.”

Cortland nods toward a drinking
fountain. “Just tell him we went to get some water, and you had to use the
restroom and I waited for you out here like a gentleman would do.”

“You’ve got an answer for
everything.”

He thinks I’m teasing, and he
smiles like he considers himself some brilliant bastard.

***

“Goodnight, Bellamy.” Cortland
stands a careful distance from me in the driveway of the main house. “I’ll be
over again tomorrow.” He glances at my parents. “Of course, if that’s okay with
Mr. and Mrs. Miller.”

Mom claps her hands against her
heart, her face twisting into a ridiculously pleased expression.

“Absolutely, Cortland.” Dad
stands with his hands on his hips, nonchalantly asserting his dominance over
the entire situation the way he always does. “You know, it’s about time we meet
your folks. Why don’t we plan a big dinner this Saturday afternoon? Weather
should be good. We can grill out. Eat outside. Would be fun.”

“Oh, yes,” Mom agrees. “I’d
love to meet your mothers.”

“Sure,” Cortland says. “My
parents have met Bellamy at Bible study, but I know they’d love to be able to
sit down with you all and forge a closer bond.”

He speaks my father’s language
better than anyone else I know.

The three of them all turn to
me, like they all share one brain.

“Yes,” I say, offering up a
fake yawn. “That sounds wonderful. Well, I don’t know about you all, but I’m
beat. Going to head up now. Goodnight, Cortland.”

I give a quick wave, since
we’re not allowed to touch or kiss or hug, and head inside with a grateful
heart: grateful that this night is finally over.

 
EIGHT
 
 

DANE

 

“How was your evening?” I bump
into her, of all places, outside the elevator. She’s early today. Thirty
minutes.

She grips the straps of her
shoulder bag tight, and I motion for her to go on first. I am, all things
considered, a gentleman.

“It was good.” Her words have
no flavor to them at all. They’re blanched and bland. She stares straight ahead
like she’s in a fog. “Yours?”

“My night was wonderful. Thank
you.” I press the button to the fifteenth floor and lean against the railing. A
faint perfume fills the small box we share, and I drag her scent into my lungs
without her so much as noticing. Gardenia. That’s what it is. Only it’s not as
heavy. It’s mixed with something else a bit lighter and complementary.

I love it. It’s subtle and
elegant and doesn’t scream for attention like so many of the obnoxious
fragrances women wear these days.
  

The doors ding and separate,
and I motion for her to leave first. When she exits, she waits for me to walk
next to her.

“I take it you did some
thinking last night?” I state the obvious because obviously she wouldn’t be
here today if she changed her mind. I slip my key into the double doors that
lead into the reception area. It’s just us two for at least the next twenty
minutes. I normally use this time to clear my head and prep for the day, but
today I’ll make an exception.

Besides, she was extra early
today.

For
me
.

To please
me
.

Her
master
.

“Absolutely,” she says. “I’m
fired up now more than ever.”

I lick the curve of my lower
lip as I try not to show the intense amount of pleasure I get from hearing her
say such a thing.

“Excellent. I’ve got a
conference call at eight-fifteen, but after that, I’ll make sure Marlene blocks
out my schedule so we can continue your training.”

She slips into her office, and
I head to mine and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

My fingers drum the wood top of
my desk, reaching distance from my phone, and when it finally rings, I clear my
throat, let it ring three more times and answer.

“Yes, Bellamy?”

“What is all of this?” She’s
breathless, and my only regret is not being there in person to see her face.

The effect wouldn’t have been
the same, though.

“You’re going to have to be
more specific than that,” I tease.

“The boxes, Dane.” Her words
are rushed, jumbling into one another. “These, these things. Are they all for
me?”

“Every last item in those
packages was hand-selected for you by my personal shopper.”

My subs only have the best.
Red-bottomed shoes. Designer jeans. Red-carpet worthy party dresses.
French-tailored suits for the office. Italian leather purses and belts. A collection
of high-end cosmetics that would make a makeup artist jealous.

“These things, they’re too
expensive for me,” she says. “I-I can’t take these. I can’t accept these…”

“You
can
and you
will
. Now
stop blathering and come to my office. I’d much rather you show me how excited
you are.” I go to hang up, but instead pull the phone back to my ear. “Oh, and
Bellamy. Bring the pale pink box with the black satin ribbon.”

A minute later she raps on the
door.

“Come in.”

That’s good. She’s learning
fast.

Bellamy carries the pale pink
box and curious expression on her pretty face.

“Go ahead. Open it.” I fold my
hands across my stomach and sit back as she takes a seat across from me.

She sets the box across her
thighs and tugs on the end of a ribbon until the knot loosens. When she pulls
the lid off, her eyes trail from the neatly folded velvet negligee to me and
back.

“What’s this?” She lifts it up
like it’s made out of china and not crushed velvet the color of a lustrous
midnight. Her cheeks flush instantaneously. “You want me to wear this for you
sometime?”

“I want you to wear this for me
now
.”

Spreading it across her lap,
she runs her hand along the tickling texture while biting her lower lip.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy about
your body.” I sit up, my eyes departing the fullness of her lower lip and
scaling the length of her luscious curves.

She glances up at me. “I’m not
shy about my body; I’m just trying to picture how this is going to look on me.”

“That’s not for you to worry
about, Angel,” I say. “I’m the only one who’ll ever see you in this, and I know
for a fact you’re going to look sexy as sin.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“You can thank me by putting it
on.” I motion toward my private en suite bath.

After the longest ten minutes
of my twenty-eight-year-old life, Bellamy emerges in the crushed velvet
ensemble. The bones of the bustier hug her rib cage and push her breasts high,
creating two soft mounds that instantly illicit swelling in my cock.

“Don’t be modest, Bellamy.” I
head across the room to where she’s anchored in the doorway. My hands rest on
her hips, and I pull her against me. She sucks in a quick breath and flashes an
awkward smile that makes me think she feels silly. “You look fucking
incredible.”

Her clear eyes search mine
though I’m not sure for what. If she’s looking for my approval, I’m not sure
what more I can do besides press her against my hard cock. That’s my
endorsement right there.

“And you’re going to look even
more amazing on all fours sucking my cock while I take my conference call this
morning.” I make this about sex, because that’s what it’s about, and the last
thing I need is for her confusing palpable lust with romance.

Big difference.

Romance implies love, and I’m
not a man capable of such a thing. You can’t give something you’ve never
received, and I’m not about to start now.

I grip her wrist lightly and
spin her around, biting my lip when her perfect ass comes into view. My free
hand takes a generous handful before slicking around her hips to her front
side. My fingers tap the fabric just above her mound, and she quivers against
me.

“How does it make you feel
knowing there’s only a thin piece of fabric dividing my fingers and your most
private place?” I breathe into her ear.

She doesn’t answer. Instead,
her head falls back against my shoulder, and I press my fingers against her,
feeling the outline of her lips through the crotch of the panties. My fingers
massage with just enough pressure to elicit the faintest moan from her pretty
mouth.

And then I stop.

“Your pleasure is in my hands,”
I say, turning her to face me. “Literally and otherwise. Do you understand,
Angel?”

“Yes, Master,” she pants.

“You will come when I tell you.
You will only pleasure yourself under my command. And no other man can so much
as touch or taste any part of you. Is that also understood?”

“Yes, Master.”

“You belong to me.” My hands
hook the side of her hips. Unable to go another moment without touching her in
some way, my mouth finds a soft spot just below dip of her collarbone. First I
kiss, and then I suck, pulling her between my teeth and then letting go. She’ll
have a mark, but it’ll be the first of many, and it won’t hurt. “You are mine,
Bellamy.”

Her eyelids flutter closed. She
stands glued in place, waiting for my next command when the phone rings.

“On your knees, Angel.”

She follows me back to my chair
where I sink down and recline back slowly. Bellamy drops to her knees,
positioning herself on the floor between my thighs.

My cock throbs, fighting the
confines of my Italian silk boxers.

“Dane speaking,” I answer.

Bellamy reaches for my belt,
running her hand along the outline of my cock in the process. Her delicate
hands work steadily. First a faint click of the belt, then the silent pop of a
button, and finally the slow unzipping of my suit pants.

She tugs on the waistband of my
boxers until I’m fully exposed, and she rises slightly, though still very much
on her knees, and presses the head of my cock just enough against her lips that
I feel their heat.

She’s killing me here, and I
love every second of it.

“Mr. Townsend, are you still
there?” The woman on the other end says. “I’m connecting Nashville and
Piedmont. Bear with me.”

She sounds like a sweet
grandmother type, not that I’ve ever known one of those in real life.

“Yes, I’m still here,” I say into
the receiver as the opposite party lines up the conference call.

Bellamy inserts the tip of my
cock into her warm mouth, greeting me with her wet tongue.

I melt.

I fucking melt back into my
chair.

Her mouth is heaven. “Oh,
God…Angel…”

She takes my length, her hand
gripping the base lightly. The way she attends to me like I’m some kind of
delicacy takes me to a whole other level. Bellamy is a class act. No question.
I knew from the moment I saw her.

She stops after a moment, her
baby blues gazing up at me as if she needs reassurance.

“Don’t stop, Angel. I’ll tell
you when I’ve had enough.”

Which
will probably be never…

“Dane, you there?” A gruff
voice booms into the phone damn near stealing my moment.
Thank you, David Bellows in Piedmont
. One glance at the gorgeous
blonde with her bee-stung lips around my cock brings me right back though.

“I’m here.” I glance at my
pewter desk clock and release a harbored breath. “Can we carry on? Everyone
connected yet?”

“Yes, we’re all here,” another
man says.

“Great,” I say. “Did you
receive the preliminary schedule Marlene emailed out yesterday?”

Bellamy pulls me out of her
mouth and cocks her head, licking me from a completely different angle.
 
A jolt of electricity zips along my
center, and my legs tense. It’s all I can do not to lose myself in this, but
I’m the king of self-control, and I decide when I come.

“Yes,” they say in unison.

“Dane, I had a problem with the
solar panel systems seminar running the same time as the battery systems.”
David sounds like a smoker with a perpetual batch of phlegm in the back of his
throat, but I ignore it. “Some of my men attending the conference would like to
attend both seminars, and I think you’ll find many others will feel the same
way. This schedule isn’t going to work, and you’ll be hard pressed to find a
lot of companies sending their best employees out to a highly anticipated and
poorly organized convention.”

She inserts the entirety of me
into her mouth once again. I could lose myself in the warmth of her mouth.

“I agree,” the guy from
Nashville echoes.

“Gentleman.” I force control
into my tone. “I can assure you this is the best schedule for the convention. I
should know. I organized it myself.”

“But you didn’t take into
consideration the fact that–”

“–did either of you take
into the consideration that the highly sought after speakers I’ve hired,
industry geniuses and revolutionaries I might add, have busy schedules? And
that maybe, just maybe, those were the only times we could make those seminars
work?” My words bark and bite. “I’m slightly insulted that you would accuse me
of chopping some hack job schedule together with no consideration of scheduling
conflicts.”

“Dane,” Nashville says. “That’s
not what we meant.”

“This is the schedule.” My
voice escalates, deeper and faster, and Bellamy’s movements correspond like
we’re completely in sync. “This is how it has to be. All lectures will be
recorded, and all attendees will be able to take home audio recordings on flash
drives. No one will miss a thing.”

My cock electrifies, pressure
building up in the base. I’m seconds from erupting, and I fully intend on doing
so before one of those numbskulls utters another word and yanks me out of this
erotic stupor.

I slam the receiver against the
table and grip the sides of my chair as Bellamy licks and sucks and manipulates
my throbbing cock with her perfect mouth.

I explode.

Bellamy doesn’t miss a beat.
She keeps going until she’s sucked me dry.

“Dane? Dane you still there?”
Their voices come through the receiver like they’re millions of miles away. I
press the phone back up to my ear, nodding at Bellamy. She rises in one fluid
movement and gently wipes the corners of her mouth before sauntering to the
bathroom to change.

I haven’t given her permission
to change, but there she goes.

I can’t feel my face, and I can
hardly feel my body. I don’t feel anything but a potent mix of pleasure and
power.

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