Mr. President:A Billionaire & Virgin Fake Fiance Romance(181)

     



 

Brittney gives me a quick kiss on my tip, and my cock starts flaring back to life.

"Oh please," she tells me with a sexy pout. "Once you've tasted my pussy, you won't care where you are, you'll want it again."

"I want to fuck it now," I tell her flatly. I'm not looking to play games. I'm open and upfront about who I want to fuck.

"You think your cock can handle it?" she asks me. "You ever seen my videos? I leave guys broken … "

I laugh. She's never met me then.

And if you're wondering, which I know you are because your mind's just  as filthy as mine-yes, I've watched all her videos. The moment she gave  me the lap dance I had Cheryl pull everything Brittney has ever worked  on.

All the stepmom shit. The neighbor next door scenes. The getting picked  up by two guys in a van scene that went viral on the Internet back in  the day. I watched it all.

But I didn't jerk off to it.

Because why waste all that cum?

No, I saved it. To spray it onto her face just now.

"Babe," I tell her and bend over to pick her up, and bring her to her  feet. "I'm just going to fucking defile you like you've never been  before. I'm going to do ungodly fucking things to your body and you're  going to cry out for more."

I think this gets her attention, and I run my hands over her body as I  continue. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be lucky if you  remember your name," I tell her, looking her directly in the eyes. "But I  guarantee you, you'll be screaming mine."

She's excited.

I can tell. I see the spark in her eyes. It's a mixture of fear,  excitement, apprehension, and lust. Lots and lots of fucking lust.

I bare my teeth and reach over, cupping her ass cheek and bringing her closer.

She comes willingly.

And that's when the fucking intercom goes off.

"Ethan, are you there?" the speakerphone blares. It's Cheryl.

God fucking dammit.

Not now.

Not now, of all times.

"Ethan, we need you in the product launch timeline signoff. We've been  planning this meeting for months and the bankers are here," Cheryl says,  a touch of urgency in her voice.

Cheryl is never fucking urgent. She's always got everything so fucking  organized and so on point that if I hear urgency in Cheryl's voice-and I  think I've only heard it five times-I know it's fucking important.

But even then, Brittney is right fucking here. Her fucking luscious ass.  Those big, giant titties. That beautiful face. Those fucking eyes.

"Ethan? Ethan are you there?" Cheryl asks again.

She must know I'm in here. She must know what I'm doing. That's why she hasn't gotten off the phone.

Fuck.

Fucking fuck.

"It's okay," Brittney says, looking into my eyes and placing a hand on  my chest. "We can do this later, maybe?" she asks smiling at me. Not  just with wanton lust anymore.

But with warmth.

Fuck, and with compassion?

"Go, do your job, Ethan," she tells me. "I'm just going to freshen up and tidy up a bit in here before I head out."

I let out a long fucking sigh and my body literally quivers in disappointment, but I know she's right.

I nod to her, and pull up my boxer briefs and pants as I walk to my desk.

I clean my cock with a towel nearby as I push the speakerphone button on my phone.

"On my way, Cheryl," I tell her and hang up as I zip up my trousers.

Brittney turns and smiles to me as she walks over to where she threw her bra.

"You're going to be okay?" I ask her.

She nods and smiles. "I'm just going to clean up a little bit," she says  with a smile. "Get less sticky before I go out into the world, you  know?"

She laughs a small laugh and I smile before I walk to the door.

Five minutes later I'm sitting next to Cheryl in the conference room still thinking of Brittney.

Fuck.

That's five minutes longer that I've ever thought of a girl after sex.

There's something going on with her here.





144





Brittney





"Brittney, can you hear me?"

I hear Walter's voice coming in through my tiny earpiece, which is  hidden underneath my long hair. The sound is low, but the quality is  good.

"Loud and clear," I say.

"Are you at Ethan's computer?"

"Yes, but now what? I don't have the password for this machine, you know. It's locked."

"Okay, I'm going to walk you through this," Walter says. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess. I don't hear anyone coming, so it's now or never," I say, looking tensely over my shoulder.

"The first thing you need to do is shut the computer down."

"What? Why? Doesn't that seem counterproductive to be turning this thing off?"

"Just trust me, okay?" Walter says. "I know what I'm talking about."

"Okay, it's off."

"Good, now reboot it in Safe Mode," Walter instructs. "You need to do  this so that you can effectively login as an administrator to the  machine."

"You're speaking another language  …  but sure," I say. "Okay, done. Now what?"

"Now, you'll need to reset the password."

"The password for which account?"

"For the account that's locked," Walter says. "If we're going to gain  access to the Illicit Escape software and plans, we'll need to change  the administrator password so that we can unlock it all."

"Since when did you get so high-tech on me Walter?" I joke.

"Just here to help, darling. We've got to move quickly."

"Okay, that's done; now what?" I ask. I'm acutely aware of noise now  coming from down the hall and I wait a few extra seconds before making  any noise in case anyone walks in. After those moments are up, it seems  like the coast is clear, so we resume.

"And for the record," I say, "I've given this account a password that no  one is ever going to fucking crack. I think there's enough letters,  numbers, and symbols for it to be its own equation."

"Nice work," Walter laughs. "Okay, now we'll need to shut this machine off."

"Again?" I ask.

"Yes, shut it off and reboot," Walter says. "When you're turning it back on, you need to immediately hold the F8 key."

"Why is that?" I ask. "Is something about to melt down on me? You'd at least warn me if that was the case, right?"

"Very funny," Walter says. "No, you need to do this so that you can be taken to an advanced menu."

"And what exactly am I looking for on that menu?" I ask.

"You're looking for the advanced boot options."

"Got it!" I say. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins. It already  feels like an eternity to just get to this point, and all I want to do  is get the hell out of here.

"Okay, now insert the USB stick and start downloading all of the data from the I.E. folders."

"It's downloading," I say, clicking them all and pressing the download  option. "But it's taking forever Walter! You'd think the connection  speeds would be faster in a high-tech company like this. You even said  this was one of the most high-tech buildings you'd ever been in." I'm  tapping my feet against the floor with nervous energy. I can practically  feel the minutes going by, and with every passing minute, the  likelihood of someone finding me increases.

My thoughts go back to what Walter and Simon have both told me separately.

There's no stealing bits of data. It's either steal the physical prototype or steal all the files.

Because overtime they upgrade the software to fix bugs or whatever, all  of the old data becomes useless. They rewrite a whole new operating  system. It's a failsafe to make sure that old data doesn't get lost or  misplaced and a new product reverse engineered.

It also means I have at most 24 hours to get this to Simon once it finishes downloading.

If it finishes downloading that is.

50 percent-75 percent-92 percent-shit, it's stalled on 92 percent.

"Walter, it's frozen on 92 percent!"

"Calm down. Give it a minute."

"We don't have any extra fucking minutes!" Now I'm really stressed. If  this data doesn't load-and soon-I'm fucked. I check back at the status  bar.

"Oh good-Walter it's done; it's at 100 percent! I'm ejecting the USB stick; we did it."

I pop out the USB drive, and it slips out of my fingers and onto the  floor. Shit. I look around, trying to find it. Just great. Where the  hell is it? I get down on my knees and search for it, and I finally find  it, nestled behind the leg of a chair. As soon as I have it in my  hands, I hear the sound of footsteps approaching.

"What are you doing in here?"

It's Cheryl. Shit.

"I-uh-I just-"

Then I hear Walter in my ear. "Tell her you were looking for an earring that you lost; she'll believe that," he says.

"I was just looking for an earring that I must've dropped," I say.

Cheryl raises one skeptical eyebrow. "You dropped an earring? Here, in Ethan's office?"

"That's right," I say. "Well, I'm not sure if it was in here, per say.  It could be somewhere else, but I just wanted to make sure."