Double Dare(181)

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t hear our receptionist Nora tiptoe over.

“Mr. McGrath,” she said quietly, standing next to me. “There’s a young lady here to see you.”

That was weird. Usually Nora emailed if we had a visitor, there was no need to make the announcement in person. And if you’re wondering about our office space, yes, it’s an open plan. We don’t have separate offices, just long rows of desks, the set-up modern, roomy, eco-friendly with both a foosball table and a ping-pong table. Yeah, we’re that start-up, the one with all the free food and games, impossibly hip, all our employees young and brainy.

And even I, as CEO, worked out in the open, there was nothing to distinguish me from anyone else except the fact that I had two monitors, one right next to the other. But hey, even that wasn’t a dead giveaway. After all, this was a progressive workplace where people had standing desks or sat on yoga balls, so my double monitors didn’t stick out that much.

But as I looked up, I saw why Nora had made the announcement in person, practically whispering next to me. Because Laurie was here, and she looked fine. My girl was like a dream materializing in our offices, curvy, jiggly, that curly brown hair tied behind her head, everything accentuated with a pencil skirt and turtleneck sweater. I’d begged Laurie to buy more form-fitting stuff, I loved seeing her breasts and ass outlined in tight clothes, couldn’t wait to rip them off when we were home.

But the brunette had seen me now and was shooting daggers across the open work space, her brown eyes darkening to black, furious in their glare. Oh shit. What had happened? Had she gotten fired? Had that bitch Tanya at work been snooping in our business? I’d heard enough about this person Tanya to hate her, I bet she’d been spreading some poison somehow or other.

And I wasn’t wrong. Laurie came marching over, not caring that my employees were staring from the corners of their eyes and came to stand by my desk, hands on her hips.

“Tucker,” she said. “What is this?” she demanded, holding out the Palladium card.

I grabbed her hand.

“Honey, let’s go to a conference room, we can have some privacy,” I rumbled, exerting some pressure. “Come on.”

But she resisted, shaking her head furiously, those brown curls bouncing.

“No,” she said flatly. “I want some answers. What the fuck is this?”

I took a long look at her, then another long look at the card.

“It’s my credit card,” I said slowly. “Remember, I gave it to you? To buy yourself some clothes.”

“I know that,” she spat. “But why, on Wiki, does it say that only millionaires can get this card? That it’s for ultra high net-worth clients of the bank, who on average are worth one hundred million dollars?” she demanded, hands on hips, chin jutting out. “Are you even Tucker McGrath?” she demanded again hotly, shooting sparks. “Who the fuck are you?”

Now I knew I had to get her into a conference room, my employees were openly staring now, not even bothering to pretend to work. So instead of trying to persuade her nicely, I took things into my own hands. With one fell swoop, I picked her up in my arms and strode over the conference room, kicking the door shut behind us and pulling down all the shades.

“What the fuck?” the brunette sputtered, struggling to get down. “Let go of me, fucker!”

I growled then.

“That’s right, I’m a fucker because I’m the man who fucks you,” I said threateningly. “Every day, every night, I fuck that pussy so go ahead and call me fucker,” I rasped.

That made Laurie pull back a bit, still hissing. I’d put her down and she was a glorious sight to see. Her hair had fallen down and curls trailed around her face, framing it, highlighting the flush, her lips rosy and parted, breathing hard.

Plus her breasts were magnificent. In the tight sweater they were like a ship’s prow, jutting out, bold, beautiful, heaving as she stared at me with accusatory eyes. Plus, that ass. Fuck, she’d taken my advice, wearing tight clothes and the effect it had on me was electric, my cock jutting like a hammer ready to slam.

Except there was the problem of my identity.

“Laurie, I can explain,” I began, hands up, a conciliatory look on my face.

“You better!” she shrieked, this time hurling the Visa at me. I ducked in time, the rectangle bouncing off the wall with a chink, falling to the floor. But I didn’t care, the Palladium Visa meant nothing to me, was nothing but an accoutrement to my massive wealth.

“Are you even the delivery man?” the brunette shrieked again, staring at me with accusing eyes. “Or is this, is all this, a lie?” she said, gesturing to the conference room, the office beyond.