My Dad's Business Partner Page 5

  I blush and giggle. “What do you mean?”

  “She looks a lot like you, don’t you think?”

  I laugh. “She’s so much prettier than me.”

  He cups my chin to get my eyes on him, that blue gaze fierce.

  “Don’t ever say those words in front of me again. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. So don’t lie to me, Harlow, by referring to yourself as anything less.”

  I’m struck by his serious demeanor. “Yes, sir.”

  He releases me and selects the video. We watch as she gets to work, her tongue slathering a man from root to tip. Gray whispers, “Does that look like fun to you?”

  “Yes,” I murmur, my eyes are glued to the screen.

  He skips ahead to the next part, and now the woman’s on her knees in front of her partner, cupping her breasts with her mouth open as she awaits his ejaculation. “I love the look on her face, sweetheart. It’s like when you look up at me when we’re making love.”

  I bite my lip, then say, “Yes, but you haven’t come in my mouth yet.”

  He winks.

  “I know, but it’s coming, sweetheart. You can be sure of that.”

  I giggle and he moves onto a face-fucking video with the same girl. The actress’s eyes are watering as her partner thrusts between her lips. She gags when he finally pulls out, but she doesn’t get much of a break because in an instant, he’s sliding back in. I squirm uncomfortably, even as my swollen pussy lips grind against the hardness in Gray’s slacks.

  He asks, “What do you think about trying this?” Before I can answer, he strokes my throat and quietly says, “I want to fuck your gorgeous throat, Harlow. Will you let me?”

  It’s always been a fantasy of mine, but my last boyfriend Everly was an inept feminist who couldn’t have been more out of his depth when it came to the sack. He objected, blabbering something about how he wanted to treat me with respect. Ugh.

  But I didn’t want Everly to think I was trashy, so I backed down. Now, the opportunity has come, and I want Gray to take my throat as hard as he took my pussy.

  “Maybe,” I say in a coy voice, pulling at one of my nipples until the peak is stiff and pointy.

  “Yes or no, my little pet? There are no maybes between us.”

  I pretend to think.

  “It might hurt though. I’ve never had a man that deep in my throat before. Do you think I could handle it?”

  His hand strokes up my thigh and he gently chuckles.

  “I think you can do anything you set your mind to, sweetheart. Also, I want to do that to you. I want to feed you my whole cock, until I can feel the muscles of your throat struggle against me. I want to watch your beautiful eyes water as you realize you can’t breathe. But you don’t fight it because you know this is what I want. Because you want to make me feel good.”

  I’m shocked at his description of the act because it seems so raunchy and wrong. But now, I want to try because I’ll do anything Gray wants. I would take his entire cock in my mouth, down my throat, in my pussy, and even in my ass if it makes him happy. I pant, “Yes.”

  A triumphant look comes over those handsome features.

  “Then on your knees, little girl.”

  I scoot between his legs, while he unzips his trousers. The sight of his gorgeous cock makes my mouth water. It’s simply the biggest penis I’ve ever seen, like an erect column with a rounded end. The shaft isn’t too veiny, and the skin is silken. First, I lick the head with a swirl, and gently take him in my mouth. I look up and wait for instructions.

  “Go on,” he caresses my head. “Be my little pet.”

  It’s strange, but I’m turned on when he treats me like an object or a possession. I stroke him with my tongue a few more times, and he tastes marvelous, salty and sweet at the same time. Hungrily, I drop my tongue to the bottom of his shaft, then slowly suck my way back up to the head. I take my time and savor Gray’s particular mouth feel.

  I know the CEO likes it too. His quiet moans fill my head and I want to listen to them all night long. I keep taking him as deeply as possible and I want more, but the angle isn’t working to get him into my throat, and there are inches yet to go.

  I touch his balls and pull my mouth from him to say, “Can you fuck my throat now?”

  Gray doesn’t say a word as I suck his cock in my mouth again. He stands up, keeping me on him while stroking my hair. Then he gathers the long strands into a ponytail with his hand, and uses it as a guide to fuck my mouth.

  Gray’s gentle at first, going in only as deep as I can handle, yet I’m trapped. My face is skewered onto him, and he has my hair wrapped around his fist. I can’t escape, even if I want to. But I’m thrilled to be his captive, like a toy to use for his pleasure.

  Holding me tightly, Gray thrusts up to the back of my throat. He pulls back quickly to look at me as my eyes water and I choke a bit, but then I press forward and he takes that as encouragement. I’m so glad he understands.

  He pushes even further and for the first time, I feel a cock force itself past my limits and deep into my throat. I have to consciously think about my breathing, my nostrils flaring delicately. His sack touches my chin and his hair tickles my nose. We’re sealed tightly together, and he’s buried in my face.

  Yet I’m so happy to take him into me in any way, and my eyes water as he rasps, “Sweetheart, I want a picture.”

  “Mm-hmm,” I moan. I want to give him everything. He makes me want to please him.

  Gray whips out his phone and snaps a photo of the tears streaking my cheeks as my lips are pulled wide. God, there’s even a bit of drool seeping from the corners of my mouth, but I know Gray only likes that more.

  Then he sets his phone down and begins to fuck my throat in earnest. This is so much better than my fantasy. He uses small thrusts and I can’t figure out why until I hear my own sounds, which are choked gurgles and moans. I push forward onto his cock, because I want him to know he doesn’t have to face-fuck me tenderly. But then I realize he wants me to be able to breathe, and I’m overjoyed that he has my well-being on his mind, even now.

  I time my inhales to sync with his new faster pace. I feel his excitement in his cock as it thickens and firms in my mouth. He strokes my hair, rasping, “Little girl, you get me so hot.”

  I can’t reply, but I lick him as he face-fucks me, and he gasps in response. I love the fact I’m his plaything. His dirty little secret. No one knows that we’ve been making love, not even my best friend Jane. Yet this has been a magical internship, and I can’t believe the summer’s passing so quickly.

  He gets rougher with me, thrusting his whole cock into me on each stroke. My jaw aches and my face is wet with drool and tears. He looks down at me, adoration on his face, and says, “I’m going come down your throat, Harlow. Get ready.”

  “Mmmmm,” I beg. My hands find his ass and I pull him into my face even more.

  “Oh FUCK!”

  Gray’s body shudders as he comes in my throat. I can’t taste much of anything because he’s buried so deep, but as he pulls out, I get a faint hint of salt. I make to swallow, but then he grips my chin firmly between two fingers, blue eyes burning.

  “Keep my come on your tongue and stick it out for me to see,” he rasps.

  I do, and Gray takes another picture.

  “Now swallow. The protein’s good for you.”

  I do and try to smile at him, but my face muscles are utterly spent.

  Later that evening, Gray says, “I have a treat for you.”

  I smile sweetly.

  “Another one?” We’ve gone back to his place and he’s picked up some lobster bisque and hearty French bread for our dinner. I can’t really bite into the chewy bread because my jaw’s sore, but the soup hits the spot. I wonder how he knew it was my favorite, but then I remember that Gray’s known me since I was born.

  “Yes, another one,” he grins. The doorbell rings, and I startle. I didn’t know we were having company, and make to hide. But he m
erely shakes his head and smiles again, eyes twinkling.

  “There’s your surprise now.” He departs the kitchen and my ears perk. I can’t see, but I hear him say, “Yes, please set up in the bedroom.”

  A woman’s voice murmurs, “The one on the first floor or one of the ones upstairs?” Oh shit. Who is this?

  “First floor,” Gray replies, and then his big form materializes once more.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, eyes wide.

  “Come along,” he says and holds out a hand for me. I clasp his hand and make to get up, but he pauses for a moment, stroking my jaw tenderly. I’m glad we had soup for dinner; I didn’t want to chew anything given how far my mouth has been stretched. “You’ve been a very good girl today, and I want to take care of you properly.”

  My lashes flutter at him.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Come with me.”

  Gray leads me down the hall to his bedroom, and even though I want to end up there for the evening, I’m nervous, because he was talking to someone and they were in there. Does he want a three-way? Is that my reward? Oh god. My stomach drops because to be honest, I don’t want to share Gray, and especially not with another woman. Nausea makes me dizzy but I force myself to keep walking.

  He knocks on the door and the person inside says, “Come in.” Sure enough, it’s a woman’s voice. But Gray appears undisturbed. He opens the door, and the bedroom has been transformed. There are lit votive candles everywhere and it smells like vanilla inside. A sexy woman in a black spa uniform stands next to a massage table. She smiles and says, “Hi, you must be Harlow. I’m Dani. I’m here to perform your massage.”

  Relief washes over me and I look at Gray, utterly grateful. It’s like he can read my mind and he leans forward to press a kiss to my forehead.

  “Enjoy, sweetheart. You deserve it.” Then, he steps outside the bedroom.

  Dani smiles. Her blonde hair is pinned back neatly, and there’s nothing to suggest that this was ever going to be a threesome. She’s very professional and kind.

  “I’ll step out so you many disrobe to your level of comfort, okay? Then, feel free to slip under the blanket and I’ll knock in a few minutes.”

  But suddenly, panic strikes me again.

  “Wait, do you work with Gray often?”

  She cocks her head at me.

  “Yes.”

  I ask tentatively, “For him or for his women?”

  She shakes her head.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not at liberty to divulge client information. However, Mr. Jamison is a steady client, and I appreciate his business. But if you’re uncomfortable, I can let him know and come back another time?”

  I swallow.

  “No, it’s okay. I’m good.”

  She nods.

  “Then I’ll just step out and be back in a moment once you’re ready.”

  Dani smiles and leaves, and I strip fast. I might be able to trick her into telling me about his other women, if there are any. Too soon, she knocks again and I tell her to come in. But once she begins the massage, my insecurities fly out the window.

  She has a magnificent touch. I’m floating in a sea of pleasure, albeit non-sexual pleasure. She hits muscles that I didn’t even know I have, and I almost doze off, but then there’s a knot in my back which she massages and I squeal. It hurts!

  “Ow!”

  She chuckles.

  “You’ll be fine. You’re just tense.”

  I relax back onto the bed, and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain. Then, I stop myself to ask, “Dani, I know you can’t tell me about your clients, and that’s fine. I just well … Mr. Jamison is so …”

  She giggles.

  “You mean, you’re trying to not sound nosy?”

  I blush.

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t even notice,” she teases.

  I giggle myself and ask, “Seriously, though, we are casual because we just started seeing each other, and I guess I hardly know anything. Does he usually call you to give massages to girls he’s dating?”

  “Nice try,” she chides. “But I still can’t share that sort of information.”

  I sigh.

  “Damn.”

  But then I try again.

  “But have you been with him? You know, as more than a masseuse?”

  Dani decides to answer me on this one.

  “Gray Jamison is a great guy, but he’s not my type.”

  I laugh, “Did you see him? Are we talking about the same guy?”

  “I did see him,” she laughs.

  “Then, how is he not your type?”

  She grins again.

  “I prefer my partners with less face stubble and more boobs.”

  “Oh!” I giggle. “Guess I’m more your type then.”

  “Indeed,” she smiles, moving to massage my neck. “How is your jaw doing, by the way?”

  I move it around experimentally and say, “Much better, thanks.” Then I realize Gray must have told her about our fun, and my face burns with embarrassment.

  “Are you alright? Too warm? I can take a blanket off; you’ll still be under the sheet.”

  “No, not warm. Wait, what did he tell you about me and what we did?”

  Dani gives a low chuckle.

  “Gray is very blunt with me about his own injuries, and I think that straight talk has carried over to you. Don’t worry about it, though. After ten years in this business, I’ve heard everything, and I’ve seen everything too.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I try to relax, but keep thinking about him telling her about our private time together. What must Dani think of me, especially with her being a lesbian? God, she probably believes I’m the worst feminist in the world.

  Dani reads my mind and grins.

  “Don’t worry about it. Mr. Jamison likes to get rough, but nothing will top the time I walked into a home where the wife was dressed like a French maid and kept flashing her husband while I gave him his massage.”

  “What?!”

  She laughs. “I learned not to judge peoples’ kinks. We all like what we like, whatever that is, and as long as everyone consents, it’s no skin off my nose.”

  I giggle.

  “I like the way you think, Dani.”

  She merely smiles again.

  “Mr. Jamison cares about you, Miss Marshall. He wouldn’t have asked me to come see you if he didn’t. Just treat him well, and you’ll be fine.”

  I nod and relax back into the bliss of the massage. Is Dani right? Does Gray see something special in me, or am I nothing but a temporary plaything?

  7

  Gray

  * * *

  It’s Friday afternoon, and all I can think about is Harlow Marshall. The way she moves, so natural and free. The way she laughs, a real belly laugh and not those contrived giggles that other women do. Really, it’s the way she does everything. There’s nothing phony about her, and nothing fake. She’s just a woman living her life. Hell, she doesn’t even wear makeup most of the time, just that sweet lip gloss that tastes like cookies. All it takes is the thought of her lips and I get a hard-on.

  And yet she’s so sweet and young and beautiful…those lush hips are perfect for grabbing from behind. Her angelic face with its soft features and fluttering eyes when she comes? Oh hell, I need her in my office right now. I reach for the intercom to have my secretary call her in, but then my hand stops. Priscilla already suspects what I’m doing with Harlow, and the unfortunate part is that she’s Brent’s secretary too.

  Oh. Fuck. Brent.

  Jesus, he would kill me if he found out I was fucking Harlow. My best friend’s twenty-one-year-old daughter. Shit. This is wrong, so wrong. I don’t know what I’m doing.

  Well, that’s not true. I know exactly what I’m doing. I have wanted the curvy girl for years, and now I have her. Fuck it. I’m going to make the most of this.

  “Priscilla,” I buzz on the intercom. “Please ask Miss Marshall to come to
my office.”

  “Of course, sir, right away,” she says in her usual clipped fashion. Is there a hint of disapproval in her tone? I brush it away.

  I drum my fingers on my desk and then lurch to my feet and impatiently pace the room. I want to run my fingers through Harlow’s hair while she howls those sweet notes again. I want to drink her nectar as I paint her with my tongue. I want everything she is, and I want her now.

  There’s a knock on the door and I jump. Shit, she’s really gotten to me. Trying to look casual, I lean on my desk, arms folded.

  “Come.”

  Harlow walks in, and she’s so small, yet she takes up all of my vision. I can’t help myself. I’m falling hard, and fast.

  “Close the door, sweetheart.”

  She turns to close it quietly, and as soon as the latch snicks, I press myself to her backside. I love the way she shakes when I catch her off guard. I lift her hair and kiss the nape of her neck before I let it fall.

  “Missed you, sweetheart.”

  She turns around and purrs.

  “I missed you too, Gray.” Her arms snake around my neck and her lips are upturned for a kiss, but I make her wait for it.

  “Come with me,” I take her hand.

  “I’ve been doing that all morning!” she fake-whines.

  I chuckle at her pun.

  “You’re better than a bad joke, Harlow.”

  “Am I?” she teases. “I’m not so sure.”

  I grin. I love our banter, and how easy it is.

  “Come on, sweetheart. This way,” I lead her to my private elevator.

  “Where are we going?” she asks, big eyes wide.

  I step into the elevator and ask, “Do you trust me?”

  She steps in and says, “Of course. With my life.”

  That makes me smile. I press ‘B’ and the elevator drops. She loses her balance slightly, and tumbles into my arms.

  “Careful now. Are those heels too high?”

  “Sorry,” she blushes. “I hardly ever wear heels, so yes. Did I hurt you?”