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I take another sip of my beer and nearly choke on it. Lying on a chaise in the smallest bikini I’ve ever seen is Cora. What the fuck? Am I so taken with her that I’m hallucinating now?
Pulling out my phone, I tap out a text to Jack.
J ust saw Cora from my balcony.
A few seconds go by before I see the little typing icon.
I set her up with an apartment in your building while she’s here, so you’ll see her around. I should have mentioned it.
P erfect . She’ll be at the office. She’ll be here. There’s nowhere in my immediate life that won’t be touched by her. Touched by her, God I wish. I can’t take my eyes off her, the red fabric of the bikini leaving so very little to my imagination, and I am using my imagination. She’s even hotter than I thought under that dress, and now I’m hard again. Fuck.
I put my beer down and go inside. Enough is enough. I’m barely through the door into my bedroom when my cock is in my hand. I’m hard enough that this could be over in seconds, but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being overwhelmed just by the sight of her, and so I’m going to take my time. To get her out of my system once and for all. Just this one time, I’ll give in.
My clothes hit the floor and I’m seeing her laying by the pool again, all tan skin and red curls. If we were alone out there by that pool, I’d start at her legs. Just look at them, run my fingers along them, see how they felt under my hands and on my lips. My muscles tense as I control myself, stroking slowly. I refuse to go too quickly—I have to make it last.
I’d work my way up her body, but I’d skip ahead. I want to undo that tiny top with my teeth and throw it off the building. I want to see what color her nipples are and how they’d harden under my touch. I want to suck them deep into my mouth and hear her moan. I’d tease her until she was panting, ready to come from just my attention to those gorgeous tits. She’d be begging for me to touch her there, to move on, since I saved the best for last.
I wouldn’t take that bottom off. Not at first. No, I’d touch her through the fabric. I want to see how wet she’s made that skimpy piece of cloth and see how she reacts to its friction under my fingers. My hand starts to move faster, I can’t stop it. The scene in my head is taking on a life of its own like I’m no longer dictating my own fantasy.
Cora guides my fingers around the fabric and I feel that delicious wet heat as I sink my fingers inside her. She arches her back, breath going short as I work her up to the edge, but I won’t send her over. No, not yet. The first time I make her come I’m going to be deep inside her.
She wiggles the bathing suit off her hips, and I’m mesmerized. Her pussy is wet and pink and begging for me to bury myself in it. I can imagine what I’d say to her. I’d tell her how badly I want a taste, and after I make her come with my cock, I’m going to do it with my mouth. And then maybe my cock again.
God, this feels so good, and I’m so close. I squeeze down harder on my cock, stroke faster, my hand straining. I imagine sinking my cock inside her and watching her eyes go dark with lust. Groaning as I’m enveloped by her heat. I can’t even breathe; I’m so close. Cora. God. Fuck.
My cell phone rings shrilly in the silence and I can suddenly hear how hard I’m breathing. The spell is broken and I lose momentum. It’s okay. I ignore it. Pleasure builds at the base of my spine again and I focus on that final image: my cock buried deep inside Cora’s pussy, seeing it filled up with me and hearing her call my name.
The phone rings again, and again I lose how close I am to coming.
“Fuck.” I stalk into the living room, completely naked and cock still standing at attention to retrieve my phone where I left it. Jack’s name is on the screen. “What?” I practically growl.
The amusement in his voice makes me want to throw the phone. “Did I interrupt something?”
“Yes, actually.” And you’d kill me if you knew what.
Jack laughs like he knows that he’s caught me with my dick in my hand. “Sorry,” he says, even though it’s obvious that he’s not. “Need you to haul ass to the bar.”
I sigh. “I just got home, Jack. Can it wait?”
“Unfortunately, no. I’m at the Silver Spoon. I’ve got some guys in from New York with Jefferson Tech—they’ve got some great ideas for us and might be willing to help finance them, but they want to meet you. You’re the brains of this thing after all.”
My stomach sinks. “You took a meeting with potential investors without telling me?”
“I was planning to, Michael. They were supposed to come next month, but they came out here for something else and suggested we get drinks, so I couldn’t refuse. They’ll be back again next month.”
I don’t say anything. I’m still hard as a rock and barely thinking straight. The last thing I want to do is go meet a bunch of business people right now. Especially since Jack and I are clearly not on the same page about some things. “Look, I don’t think I’m up for that right now. Show them a good time, and I’ll be better prepared to talk to them when they come back to town next month.”
“Michael,” he says, and I recognize the tone. He’s not going to let this slide, and I can practically hear him seething over the phone. “I don’t care if you’re up to it. This is our business, and I need you to get your ass down here now .”
I sigh. “Jack—”
“This is not something that’s negotiable. Be here in ten minutes.”
The line goes dead and I have to lock down my entire body in order to not throw the phone across the room. Somewhere in the last six months our communication has degraded. We need to sit down and talk all of this out, because if we don’t agree on where Tailor Me is headed, we’re going to sink the business by trying to pull it in two different directions. In order to have that sit down, I need Jack to be speaking to me. That means I have to get myself to that bar. I don’t even have time to shower, and I don’t have enough time to finish.
Few things are worse than masturbating and getting that close without being able to finish. I’m going to be on edge all night, jumpy because my body is still waiting for the release that never came.
At least Cora won’t be there so I won’t be fighting yet another hard-on while I talk to these New York guys. Small favors. I file away my fantasy to finish later. I said I’d only do it once, but I was robbed. I need to do it once and finish .
Sighing, I glance out the window to see if she’s still there. The chaise where she was tanning is empty, and I don’t see any sign of her around the pool. Probably for the best. Let’s get this over with.
3
T he Silver Spoon has been one of Jack’s favorite places for as long as I can remember. It’s an upscale tavern that marries classic Texan charm with a sleek twenties sensibility. I like it, but I prefer my bars with a little more natural character.
I see Jack immediately when I walk in. He’s a good head taller than most men, and he’s towering toward the back of the bar. From the looks of it, the group is mingling around a table. Four men are in conversation and laughing, and I can see from here that the suits they’re wearing cost money. When you’re in this line of business you learn how to evaluate someone’s clothing quickly, and what they’re saying is “money.”
I put on my business mask and approach the table. “Jack,” I say, giving him a heads up.
He nods at me. “Gentlemen, I’d like you to meet Michael Foster, my business partner.”
They each shake my hand in turn, and now that I’m closer, I’d be surprised if any one of them had hit thirty yet. Their names slip in and out just as quickly. It might seem callous, but I don’t plan on getting to know these men that well.
“So, Michael,” one of them says to me when introductions have finished, “Jack here has been telling us all about these new ideas you have for the company expansion into different markets.”
“Has he?”
