And fuck, de-virginizing her had been amazing because the brunette was a slut, hands down. Letting me push my tongue into her ass? Coming hard that way, without any stimulation to her pussy? She was so sensitive, so attuned to my big body that that was all it took, I’d thrust into those sweet folds, feeling her barrier break, her shocked cry and indrawn breath all the proof that I needed that she was truly untouched, a nubile, creaming girl.
And fuck, but I wanted more. Laurie was coming over tomorrow night and I wanted to make it special for her. Of course I was going to devour her again, help myself to a huge heap of tasty twat and ass, but I wanted her to be comfortable, to relax, to reveal the full sweetness of her nature. Every time I looked at her, those big brown eyes danced, her pink pout slightly open, begging me to kiss her. And I was going to, after I inhaled her form, savoring every sweet curve, every sassy jiggle of her plump body. Fuck yeah, I was going to treat this woman well, stop at no lengths to romance her like she deserved.
But my thoughts of tomorrow night were rudely interrupted because Hunter had come striding back, his gaze suspicious.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he asked, waving another sheaf of papers under my nose. “What the fuck? Why did it take you half an hour at this one chick’s place?”
Goddamnit. The technology that was our strength was also a pain in the ass at the moment because of course my cousin knew exactly where I’d been, how long I’d lingered at each stop, how long each delivery took. I growled at him, my hackles rising, but then forced myself to calm the fuck down. No need to let the cat out of the bag, might as well be professional, this was a business after all.
“An old lady asked me to help move some furniture around, so I said yes,” I shrugged casually. “Didn’t look like she had many options.”
Hunter frowned again.
“Wasn’t there a doorman or a super or something? Why you?” he whined. “Tuck, you have shit to do, you know the clock’s always running in this business.”
I just shrugged again.
“Maybe cause she lives five floors up,” I said helpfully. “And there’s no doorman, it’s a pretty run-down place on the Upper East Side.”
Hunter just frowned again. But my cousin is a good guy, he wasn’t going to ream me out for helping little old ladies with no options. So he just huffed again and turned away.
“Well, if this Evelyn Holmes person requests you again, we’re going to say you’re unavailable,” he said tightly. “Time is money in this business and we gotta move fast, roll with the ball.”
I just shrugged again. Hunter could spout whatever shit he wanted but I was still the boss and I was coming and going when and where I wanted, complaints be damned. After all I had even more invested in this business than him. Not only had I poured a fortune into the company as start-up capital, but I was also working as a lowly delivery man to better understand our business, running up and down flights of stairs, humping heavy packages, my baseball cap pulled low the entire time, anonymously delivering shit. After all, it’s critical to explore every niche of our business, know exactly what’s going on and there was no better way to do it than as a stealth boss. To understand what kept our employees up at night, I’d decided to take on the job myself, schlepping up and down all of Manhattan as a nondescript messenger. Only then would NYC Concierge be able to optimize on all fronts, truly push the boundaries of this developing sector, otherwise we’d be manipulating something that management, at its core, did not fundamentally understand. And I’d be damned if I was the boss straight out of Dilbert, giving wedgies with his head in the clouds. So yeah, delivery was our business, and I was the delivery man sometimes.
I shrugged again. Shit had to get done, and Hunter was right in some respects, I’d been spending a lot of time with my special customer. There were reports to read, client data to scrutinize, investors to chat up, endless lists of to-dos that always got pushed to the back. I shook my head, getting serious, flipping on my laptop while turning to focus on my work. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough, I couldn’t wait to taste, to sample Laurie again, but for the rest of today, NYC Concierge was my baby.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Laurie
Hesitantly, I knocked on the big door. To say I was out of place was putting it mildly. I stood in a swanky building in Tribeca, a neighborhood so expensive that the most I could afford was maybe a pastry at a bakery, and not even a fancy bakery. Oh no, not the ones with the twee decorations and pyramids of macarons stacked in pastel colors, that was too expensive. I was talking about a pastry from Dunkin’ Donuts, I’d wandered into one on the way here, treating myself to a snack before arriving at Tucker’s building.