They were older than me, set in their ways, which frustrated me to no end considering we were supposed to be developing cutting edge solar technology. But, it wasn’t the product, it was our image they were more concerned about. They were conservative, and the clients they brought to the table were the same. They expected your home life to reflect your business.
I’d brought up to Dad the fact that Diamond would in no way be acceptable to the board and clients we catered to at that moment. He shrugged and told me they’d get over it. That we could overrule their decisions anyway. While true, he seemed to be ignoring the fact that if any of those guys left, they would take their golf buddies, our clients, with them and I hadn’t had enough time to bring in sufficient new business to withstand the loss.
I vowed to never make his same mistakes. And yet, there I was, my moment of weakness staring me in the face, with pale skin and a sickened look on her face. I wondered for half a second if she had faked our whole weekend. It was a ridiculous notion, nobody was that good an actress, and I was very well aware of my skills in the bedroom.
The chemistry between us was crackling even now, my traitorous body coming alive at being so near her. I focused on my anger, willing my cock to back the hell off. But no, it was still every bit as strong as when we first met.
My life was centered around the company and everything else came second. I needed an outlet for my creative side, though, something that was entirely separate and only mine. I had only ever shared it with my father. I’d bought a small art gallery and took great pride in helping small, local artists share their passion. In some cases, it even became the boost their career needed.
I was at the gallery one night, around six weeks ago, and after finishing up some paperwork, I decided to wander about and check out our newest artist’s talents. That’s when I saw her. She was average height, the top of her head reaching my shoulders. That was the only thing ordinary about her, though. Her wavy, platinum hair was pulled back from her face, in a ponytail that screamed to be pulled while she was being fucked. The profile of her face was classically beautiful, lashes so thick and long, I was curious to see up close if they were fake.
She turned and caught me giving her the once over, but it didn’t stop my eyes from continuing downward, landing on the most spectacular pair of tits I’d ever seen. They were large, almost too big for her frame, but she pulled it off and my mouth practically watered at the sight of those perfectly round globes.
She was slim, with a tiny waist, a slight flare of hips, and endless legs encased in sexy stilettos. I was suddenly imagining those legs wrapped around me, squeezing me on the outside and her pussy doing the same on the inside. I swear, I almost came in my pants like a horny teenager.
She had the body of a stripper, and a bolt of jealousy shot through me at the thought of any other man seeing her naked body. It was unexpected, but it didn’t stop the growing confidence that I was going to end this night with her under me. She seemed to sense where my thoughts had gone because she blushed, making my already hard cock turn to stone. She was so fucking beautiful.
We met in the middle of the room, as though we were drawn together by our chemistry. It was a fucking movie moment, a scene from one of those ridiculous chick flicks. I was beyond aroused to see that there was nothing fake about her body.
“Lucas St. James,” I introduced myself.
She smiled, almost shyly. “Jade Jones.”
I took back my recent thought about nothing being fake. Her name was obviously made up, and I hoped it didn’t mean she actually was a stripper. I worried about the way it would look if it got out that I’d spent time with a woman like her. However, right then and there, I decided I didn’t give a fuck. I was going to have her.
“I’m going to be blunt, to save wasted time,” I stated, “I desperately want you under me. Can I convince you to leave and spend the night with me?”
She hesitated, and for a moment I was terrified she was going to refuse, but then she smiled again and nodded, the sweet blush returning to her cheeks.
One night in a hotel turned into a weekend and I was starting to realize that I would almost surely never have enough of her. Then a cold bucket of reality was thrown at me.
She’d mentioned in passing that she was an artist and I assumed it was a hobby. I casually asked what had brought her to the gallery, too busy focusing on how I wanted to have her next to care about the question.
“I’ve turned in a portfolio and I’m hoping they’ll choose me for their next show,” she chattered excitedly.
I froze as the fog of lust receded, replaced by disappointment and rage. “So, this was an attempt to up your chances? Fuck the owner so he’ll be too enamored with your”—I ran my eyes down her body—“charms to pick anyone else? I’ve got to say, Jade,” I spit her name, “even if you do take your clothes off for a living, I didn’t think you were the kind of girl to sell your body.”