Bastard In Suit(15)
My pussy throbs. I slide my fingers between my damp lips and begin stroking myself. I’m panting, completely giving in to my imagination. I think about Duke’s mouth closing around my hard nipples. I grow wetter as my finger slides up and down my slit.
The orgasm builds fast. My body goes hot and sensitive, and my momentum gains speed as I finger myself. I rub my clit in a rapid circular motion while the other hand pinches and pulls at my nipple. The friction intensifies. My breath comes in ragged gasps.
I slide one finger inside.
Fuck me.
It takes a second for me to find my rhythm but when I do, my body starts to tingle. I feel a surge crest in my pussy and then cry out as a wave of pleasure crashes over me. I buck against the mattress until the sensation slowly fades and press my fingers against my swollen clit.
I’m just drifting off to sleep when a soft knock at my door snaps my awake. I reach under the bed and grab my baseball bat and tip toe to the door, adjusting my shorts and tank to cover exposed skin. Another knock.
“Who is it?”
“Delivery.”
My eyebrows knit together. “From where?” Or maybe more importantly, from who? “Leave it outside the door.”
The man clears his throat. “Uh, I’m afraid I can’t do that. Mr. Kingston insists that you sign for it.”
My pulse spikes. Duke? I hold the bat close to my side and open the door just enough to see into the hall. A young man peers at me from behind a bouquet of pink helium balloons imprinted with ALINEA’s logo. In his other hand, he holds a box of fine Swiss chocolates.
I sign for the delivery, sure my grin is so wide the delivery guy can see every single one of my teeth, and close the door. Leaning against it, I open the small card attached to one of the balloons.
No girl should ever go without dessert.
Chapter 8
Eight hundred thousand dollars.
That’s the amount of money Duke Kingston has offered to buy us out of our company. It’s more money than I’ve dreamed of—a drop in the bucket for a billionaire, to be sure—and yet, something doesn’t sit right.
Duke levels me with a look of cool annoyance. “Is there a problem?”
Heat crawls up the side of my neck. I’m sure he can see through me, somehow knows that I fell asleep thinking about him fucking me. I lick my lips and force myself to look away from his scrutiny. “The potential for this product is enormous.”
“It’s a generous offer,” he counters.
Not if he knew the scope of the project. The trouble is, he didn’t listen to our revised pitch, and that’s not something I’m willing to admit to Jake and Forrest. “It’s state of the art technology.”
The mogul tilts his head. “It’s inadequate.”
His silver tie shimmers in the sunlight that streams through the boardroom windows. The heat is stifling. I use a folded piece of paper to fan myself, but it’s pointless. Being in the same room as Duke turns me so claustrophobic I can scarcely breathe.
“It has room for improvement,” Forrest says.
Duke lifts his gaze. “It’s a complete…”
“Failure?” I cut in, throwing his words back at him.
His stare penetrates me, putting me in my place. “Yes.”
I refuse to weaken. “Then why offer eight hundred thousand dollars?”
Forrest kicks me under the table. I know he’s keen to take the money and run. But eight hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money, even for a man like Duke Kingston, and there must be something about the product that intrigues him enough to want to buy us out. That leaves us with room for negotiation.
As long as I don’t blow it.
“And if we’re not willing to let the product go for that amount of money?” I challenge.
“On the chance someone else might offer higher?” Duke’s expression hardens. “That would be foolish. I must stress that this is a one-time deal. I highly doubt you’ll find a better offer.”
It’s true Kingston Industries is one of the top tech companies in Chicago, perhaps the whole United States. But he isn’t the only potential investor and I’m not convinced his competitors wouldn’t make a similar—or better—deal. Especially if they know that someone else is into it.
Jake clears his throat. He’s looking quite worse for wear this morning, unshaven, blood-shot eyes, and I have half a mind to ask him just how late he was up drinking his sorrows away last night.
But I can’t exactly claim to be pure as snow at the moment either, so I sit silently as Jake asks his question.
“What are your intentions for the device?” Jake half-croaks.
“Strip it down,” Duke says.