It makes me feel bad for denying him sex yesterday morning, and then taunting him with the prospect of a blowy in the car, but his dismissal of my job is frustrating. My modest salary doesn't mean my career is valueless. I like doing what I do, and it helps people. For one thing, I know I've kept Buck from screwing up his monetary future. Plus, my minimal financial contribution at least allows me to pretend I have some kind of independence.
I'm living in Alex's massive house, driving the car he bought me, wearing the clothes his credit cards pay for, and rocking a huge diamond. I need to hold on to at least a tiny piece of my old self. My damn job is the way I'm managing this. I'm good at it. It gives me something to do with my time. I have friends there. And a few enemies, but they're mostly jealous. Understandably so. I get a lot of perks, and not just because I know how to manage money.
My mom might be a bit of a hippie flake, but she taught me some things-such as never be dependent on someone else to feed you. She never relied on anyone to pay the bills or make life easier. We made our life what it was. The second I was old enough to have a part-time job, I got one. I volunteered, I tutored, and I always had money in my bank account because I put it there.
I don't want to end up being one of those overly pampered women whose entire life revolves around her man. And I'm not referring to the ones with kids, because I can't even imagine what you do with those things after they shoot out of your vag. Gold stars to them. I mean the ladies who exist from one lunch date or Botox injection to the next. The fact that I get my nails done every three weeks already feels highly overindulgent.
While I hate it when Alex is away, it's actually good for me. Otherwise I'd likely stop hanging out with my friends and only spend time with him. Quitting my job takes me one step closer to that reality, and I've never been that girl.
I mean, eventually I'll take reduced hours, or work from home or something. One day I'll want to have Alex's pretty little hockey babies, but that's years away. First we have to tie the noose. I need to be his ball and chain for a minimum of three years before his super sperm start doing the job nature intended. I figure we can start with one and see how it goes. If it doesn't completely ruin my boobs, we can go for round two.
The microwave beeps, and I take out my reheated meal. The edges of the chicken parm are dried out, and some of the noodles are crunchy, but it's still tasty.
It's four a.m. by the time I finish my snack. I'm still not tired. I consider waking Alex with a surprise BJ, but with the game tonight, that's not a good idea. He needs to be well rested. If he's up before I leave for work, I'll get on my knees and choke on his dick.
He's been stressed since Balls was traded to the team this season. He's a forward, and younger than Alex. He's fast on the ice and showing his worth to the team. It worries Alex, not only because Balls is an excellent player, but because Alex's shoulder has been giving him problems lately, and he thinks it's affecting his game.
Aware that going back to bed is pointless, I put my dishes in the dishwasher and grab my files for the Darcy account. I might as well get some work done if I'm awake.
By six I'm tired again. I trudge upstairs to catch an hour of sleep before my alarm goes off. Alex is starfished on the bed, hugging my pillow. I fit myself into his body, and he immediately pulls me up against him, nuzzling his nose into my hair. He palms my breast, and his dick nestles against the divide in my ass. I tense for a second, but I'm wearing underwear, so it's not like he can attempt an invasion. Plus, he's said he wouldn't.
He grumbles something and settles back into sleep. I close my eyes and drift, lulled into dreams by the warm comfort of his body.
My alarm goes off at seven-ten. Alex's arm tightens around my waist when I reach for my phone.
"If you want a morning blowy, you need to let me shut off my alarm."
He releases me instantly. I chuckle and cut the music blaring from my phone. When I turn to look at Alex, he's already thrown the sheets off. His erection stands straight up, flag-poling with excitement. His fingers are laced behind his head, thick biceps flexing and the outline of his new tattoo jumping with the movement.
I have to admit, it's pretty damn sexy. It's such a cool design with the Cup and his team logo intertwined. I went with him when he got it done. His tattoo artist is a goddamn wet dream, even if he's super intimidating. All the artists in that shop are drop-dead gorgeous. It's like a hotbed of sexy covered in tattoos and piercings. I'm definitely going when he gets the color done so I can get in another ogle session. It almost makes me want a tattoo, except they hurt, and I don't like pain.
I hold up my finger. "Give me a sec."
"You don't need to brush your teeth. It's cool," Alex's voice trembles with anticipation.
"Seriously. One second." I jump off the bed and run to the bathroom, stripping off my tank as I go. I fill a tiny cup with mouthwash, tip it back, and then refill it while I swish and spit. Running back to bed, careful not to slosh the mouthwash, I hand Alex the cup and climb up to straddle him.
I run my hands over his abs, lightly dragging my nails across his skin on the way down. He shudders, then tips the cup back, swishing a few times before he spits it back in. A little bit dribbles down his chin, but he swipes it away and grins.
"I'm ready."
"I bet you are." I crawl up his body, his erection bumping my stomach as I lean down to kiss him on the lips. "I'm sorry about last night."
He settles his hands on my waist. "I'm sorry about yesterday morning."
"I know you didn't mean it, not the way it came out." I kiss the center of his chest and move lower, stopping at each defined ridge along his stomach. As I get closer to the monster cock, I lift my gaze.
Alex's lids lower, and he groans when my breast bumps the head.
I cup my boobs and squeeze them together. "Maybe you want to slide between these instead?"
"I want it all," he grates.
"Tits, mouth, beave? In that order?"
He nods, his smile dark.
"Mmm … Feeling greedy?"
"You have no idea." He sits up in a rush, then flips me over so he's on top. He yanks my panties off and tosses them over the side of the bed. He fits himself between my legs, his monster erection making contact with the Land of Beave. So of course I moan, because what other sound is there that adequately expresses my love for him and his super-special penis?
Alex kisses me, his tongue warm and minty. Then he grabs the lube from the dresser, squirts a generous amount onto his cock, and starts stroking. I have a feeling I'm going to be walking funny this morning.
-&-
I'm not wrong. After sliding his dick between the valley of the boobs and getting his dick lollipopped, Alex fucked three orgasms out of me. Getting dressed isn't easy when my bones are made of pudding.
Work is fine, but word has spread that I'm presenting the Darcy account, and I'm getting lots of looks from some of the people who've been here slaving away for much longer than I have. Most of the looks aren't very friendly.
Charlene stops by my desk at lunch. "Want to run across the street and get a bite to eat?"
"I can't. I need to work on this." I motion to my computer screen and then my desk. It looks like a paper bomb exploded. The presentation is essentially done now, but I'm so stressed about fucking it up that I can't stop going over the stats, double and triple-checking to make sure everything is accurate for my run-through with Stroker at the end of the week.
"Just take fifteen minutes. We'll get it to go and come back. We can eat in the conference room, and you can tell me about your blow-job lips from this morning."
I give her the bird, but relent. She's right. I need to take a break. I've been at it for almost four hours, and my eyes are starting to cross.
I grab my coat and purse, and we head for the elevators. Dean comes out of the men's bathroom as we pass. He's wearing his coat and a fedora. I thought that hat trend had died, but it seems to work for him.
"You ladies lunching?" he asks, falling into step with us.
"We're grabbing something and coming right back, but you're welcome to join us."
"Thanks."
"Where's Jimmy?" He and Dean are usually together.
Dean stuffs his hands in his pockets. "He's got a meeting with a client in twenty, so I'll bring him something back."
The elevator arrives, and it's packed, but we manage to squeeze in. I face Charlene and stare at her cheek the entire ride down while she stares at Dean's neck. I blow on her hair to be annoying.
"So, I gotta ask, how's Waters feel about you taking on the Darcy account?" Dean asks once we're out of the elevator.