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After fucking all night, my red raw dick ached following one thunderous orgasm after another, enough to fill an entire sperm bank.
Not having sex for a week had really built up quite a reserve.
I arrived at the 60s building that Elliot’s Advertising had called home since its beginning, and rode the elevator to the tenth floor.
It was ten o’clock. A compromise of sorts, considering I normally stumbled in early afternoon, every other week.
I knocked on my father’s office door and entered.
Our new CFO reminded me of a headmistress who liked to dish out discipline. Not in a rubber dominatrix outfit, but in a tight bun, gray skirt, and white shirt.
“This is Chase Elliot, my son.” My father glanced down at his watch. “You’re to answer to Heather Sharp while you’re on training wheels before making that big leap to CEO.”
Big leap? What am I, Superman?
“Sorry I’m late,” I panted. “There was a traffic jam on Fifth.”
“You drove?” He looked justifiably incredulous.
Okay, that was a shit excuse, considering I lived within walking distance. In a bid to wiggle out of that little lie, I smiled at my new boss. She had the type of eyes that zeroed in on facial blemishes I didn’t know existed.
“Ms. Sharp will explain what she wants.”
I held out my hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
She took it, but remained stone-faced.
This is going to be fun.
“That will be all for now, Heather. I like the direction you’re taking with this new campaign. Put it to the test group.”
When Heather left, my father turned to me. “When I said an eight o’clock start, I meant it. You’re on a one-month trial.” He pointed in my face. “And find yourself a girl that will make your mother and me proud for the ball.”
“I can’t find a wife in five days,” I protested.
“Why not? You’ve been seen around town with plenty of pretty girls. I’m sure one of them must come from a good family. With money.”
“With money?”
“There’s always Esme.”
“Oh God, not Esme. Mom tried to match her up with Hunter. Why does he get to marry who he likes and still keep in the good books?”
“Because he’s brought a healthy, bouncy grandson into our lives. He’s also not afraid of rolling up his sleeves and working hard.”
I laughed. “At a bookshop in Brooklyn?”
He shrugged. “So?”
He’d changed his tune. On that one occasion the family visited Booky Nooky, Sara’s bookshop, my father and mother had required fumigating afterward.
“You need to grow up, Chase. One playboy reprobate within the Elliot clan’s enough.”
“I’m not that. And I’ve met a girl. She’s from money. So I’ll bring her. As to marrying her. Well…”
I could do worse.
“I also need to know you can run this firm and maintain Elliot’s reputation that your grandfather and I worked hard to create.”
