Mr. President:A Billionaire & Virgin Fake Fiance Romance(194)

I stare at her and can't stop, but I hear Cheryl walking to the door.

"Think about what I said, Ethan," she tells me and doesn't wait for me  to turn around. "And watch your back. I'd love to be wrong."

Fucking Cheryl.

She doesn't even say hello to Brit. She just treats her like a piece of furniture.

"Brittney," I say to her as I take a step closer.

"What was Cheryl doing here?" Brittney asks me, her eyes big. "And who does she think is trying to steal your I.E.?"

I stop and take a deep breath. Brittney waits for a second and then her face gets serious.

"Tell me, Ethan," she says, coming close to me and putting her hands on my robe. "I need to know."

This is way too much fucking drama for this early in the morning. I  swear to fucking God. I'm about ready to tell her to fuck off.

But then I look into her face. She's looking up at me, her eyes wide, open, trusting.

Is Cheryl right?

Is she playing me?

Only one fucking way to find out.

I sigh, and take a sip of my coffee, and start.

"I started this company shortly after I quit working in marketing," I  say, and Brittney looks at me as her gaze softens. "I didn't work for  someone else anymore, and I don't know how, but I got into representing  models at first."

She nods to me. "I started porn through a modeling contract," she tells me.

I nod back. "Same here. Before you knew it, I was selling pictures for  models that agreed to magazines and websites, getting paid royalties. It  seemed like easy money, and I was good at getting the girls paid more  than they would have modeling for Baby Gap or whatever the fuck was  hiring."

Brittney is silent, waiting for me to continue.

"It was only a few steps away from eventually moving into shorter movies  and videos, and I began to dabble in creating my own content," I tell  her, thinking back to those days long gone by.

It's a fucking cliché that I'm some idiot bad boy if that's what you're  still thinking. Sure, I say ‘fuck' every other sentence. Maybe I talk  about my foot-long cock too much. And yes, I produce pornography. But  I'm a fucking hard worker. Everything that I have, everything that I  own, I built on my own. No one fucking handed this to me. I built this.  All of it.

But I had help.

"But I needed money to grow," I continue, and Brittney narrows her eyes.  She must have heard this line before. "I got into business with some  people. Nothing permanent at first, and for a while it was good."

So far, she hasn't given me anything other than the fact that she's listening.

"But as time went on, I began to work more and more with one man. Simon  Connors. He had the money and he was willing to invest it in me. We got  along great. And for a time, our growing pains were behind us. Things  were looking good," I tell Brittney.

She nods. "But?" she asks and I smile.

"But that was at first. When we were small," I say with a smile. "We had  some huge hits eventually. Got big. Became wealthier than we thought we  would ever be. He started getting jealous. Never got over the fact that  he was a minority investor."

Brittney nods. "You guys didn't part well?" she asks me.

I shake my head. "It's not that. He let the success go to his fucking  head. Started getting caught up in shit that I stayed away from," I say  to her. "Drugs. Self-destructive shit. More self-destructive than me. He  was pulling in hundreds of thousands of dollars in his investment and  ending up broke each month."

"What did you do?" Brittney asks me, coming closer.

I shrug. "At first I looked the other way," I tell her and pause,  thinking back. "But eventually it got to be really bad. He started  embezzling money. It got to the point that one month the company  couldn't pay its employees without taking a loan because Simon had taken  the money for himself. That's when I knew he needed to go."         

     



 

I pause again. Brittney looks at me and takes another step closer, putting her head on my chest.

"We had a huge fucking fight. He told me that I'd be nowhere if it  weren't for him. Tried to pull a gun on me, but eventually I bought him  out," I tell her as I wrap my arms around her. "He took that money and  tried to clean up, but he also started a porn company with the express  intention of taking me down," I say.

She nestles her head into my chest and I think back to all the times in the past Simon has tried to fuck me over.

"The entire business plan of Connors Media is to take me out," I tell  her. "He's using hate to chase after me. He used his hate at being  thrown out of the company to become the second largest pornography  distributor in the world. And it's likely that he's using hate now to  try and stop me from ascending to another industry altogether."

I sigh, finishing my sentence. Brittney is holding onto me, not looking at me, but comfortable to be close.

"You okay, babe?" I ask, running my hands over her body.

"I will be," she says to me and I wonder how this story could affect her  so much. If she were working with Simon, it's possible she may be  having second thoughts after hearing this.

Normally, having her firm body pressed up against me does wonders to  make me forget everything, and for a moment I draw in the smell of her  shampoo.

Brittney feels the same way and it's not long before I feel her tiny  hand navigate under the folds of my robe. She unties the sash, opening  it up, and with total concentration, brings her hands to my cock, slowly  jerking me off.

She looks up at me and gives me a lascivious stare. "Thank you for  trusting me with that, Ethan," she says to me. "It meant a lot to me."

I smirk at her. She's in the mood to play. Well, fuck, so am I.

"How much?" I ask her, grinning.

She doesn't answer with words, but rather by sinking to her knees and running her tongue over the tip of my cock.

Finally. Something good is happening this morning.





153





Brittney





Five thousand.

That's how many dollars I'm spending every month to keep a one-bedroom  apartment near Riverside Park even though I spend most of my nights with  Ethan at One57. I don't mind the cost, really. I mean, I'm not  complaining about that. Besides, it gives me a sense of independence.  Until I'm completely honest with him, I don't think I'd be comfortable  moving in with him. I mean, you tell me, has he ever once told you  anything about wanting me as his girlfriend? Or that we're exclusive?

We haven't had that talk on my end.

What?

I swear. We haven't had any sort of discussions … oh, wait, we had that one time.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and we had both gone out to some party  the night before. It was a cast party I think for someone who was  leaving the set of Hamilton and we had both had too much to drink.

We woke up the next morning slightly hung over. After eating a greasy  breakfast over at the Red Eye Diner, Ethan looked over to me.

"You get that hang over horniness, babe?" Ethan asked, his hand on the small of my back as we crossed the street.

How did he know? All I wanted that morning after food and water was to  get his giant cock inside of me to scratch an itch. But I was too much  of a lady to say anything. Instead, I looked over at him once we crossed  the street.

"Let's wait till we get upstairs and I'll show you," I told him. He smirked at me.

He wasn't smirking ten minutes later as his hands were grabbing my tits  and squeezing my ass as I desperately shucked myself over and over on  his thick, hard cock and came. Then, he turned me over on all fours and  fucked me doggie until I had another orgasm. He fucked me on the sofa,  then moved to the balcony where he bent me over the railing and drilled  me, and then brought me inside and fucked me missionary where he came  all over my tits. And he came in gallons. It was intense.

I scooped it all up with my fingers. Yummy.

Okay, yeah you're done listening to my crazy sex life with my hot handsome stud, but this is the important part.

As we lay naked on the sofa together, Ethan turned to me.

"You have enough clothes for next week?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "I thought you like it when I'm naked," I replied, doing my smart ass thing that I use on him sometimes.

"Yeah, but you know, to go to work and shit," he replied.

"I'm usually naked at work, filming scenes for I.E.," I told him.

"Fuck, if you need to go to your place and get your shit, I'll help," he said, getting annoyed at me.

I turned over to him. I knew what he was going for. But I didn't want to have that conversation.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" I asked him with a pout.

I knew it would fuck with his head.

I know, why did I spoil the chance?

Because I was scared, I think.

I don't know, hun. I'm fucked up in the head. After Robert. After running away.

Ethan just dropped the subject and went back to watching television. Which at the time was fine by me.

Now I'm wishing I had told him that it might have been easier to just  move in-that this going back to my apartment over and over to get things  was time consuming. Because an hour after our conversation, that's  exactly what I had to do. Trek all the way uptown and get my stuff.