Mr. President:A Billionaire & Virgin Fake Fiance Romance(231)

Still, the tension and threat of a no confidence vote are simmering under the surface.

Internally, sources confirm that Kane Price is splitting up into  battlegrounds over a proposal by Ms. Lowell to invest $1 billion of the  Firm's assets into Indonesian regional airline provider, Red Lion  Aviation. Mr. Kane has strongly opposed this investment, stating that  the risk is too great for any return. However those who favor the  investment view any delay on Mr. Kane's part as simply being based out  of ego and not on rational decision making.





183





Becca





Five.

That's how many weeks it's been since I first fucked Mason in the  bathroom of the bar. Before I knew who exactly he was. Before we began  to spend more and more time together. Before I realized his connection  to Lorna. Before I realized a lot of things. I used to think I was so  grown up. But I realize now just how naive I was. It feels like in those  five weeks since I've met Mason, I've crossed a bridge that can never  be crossed, you know? Like I've matured much faster than any 21 year old  should have to.



Seven.

That's how many days ago I finally moved the last of my things out of the townhouse that Lorna lives in.

Mason helped me of course. "Mom" wasn't around to even see me go. Mason  didn't know where she was either. Only later did I find out from our  housekeeper-who cried all day as I was moving out-that Lorna had gone to  the Hamptons with another Kane Price shareholder.

Of course, you know what she did there?

I don't have to have a very vivid imagination to say that she went out  there to seduce him. I'm not being a bitch if I say that. She pretty  much told me this herself a few days after I overheard her tell Mason  that she wasn't my mother.

That's right, babe. I totally confronted her. I remember. It was a  Saturday morning and she was reading the newspaper on her tablet in the  sunroom.

"Why do you look so shocked, Becca?" she asked me when I asked her if it  was really true. "You got a good deal out of it, didn't you?"

"But that's not the point, Mom," I said, instinctively falling back on the moniker.

"Please, will you fucking stop calling me your mother," Lorna said with  obvious disdain. "I could give two shits whether you live or die, to be  honest. You're only as good to me as you photograph, if you must know."

I think I gasped or something, you know? Just hearing those words coming from the woman I thought had loved me my whole life.

"Oh, don't look so shocked," she said to me. "You're nothing like me.  You're weak, soft, and stupid. You don't have the killer instinct."

"Is that why you didn't like Dad?" I asked her. "Because he didn't have the killer instinct?"

Lorna's face turned into a grimace. "I wish he'd never brought you into  the marriage we had," she sneered. "If he'd just thrown you out on the  corner, maybe he'd still be alive. I wanted him, not you. But when you  came along with him, it sort of ruined the experience for me, you know?"

I remember shaking with fear and shock and loathing. How could one  person be so cavalier about the dead? So hating toward the living.

"I cheated on your father every chance I got," she said, smiling as if  relishing the fact that she was hurting me. "I made sure he found out  about it each and every time. I fucked guys on our bed. I left panties  soaked in other men's cum for him to find and see."

She went on and on. A litany of betrayals as I sat in horror.

"And then," she said, without a shade of remorse. "When he couldn't take it anymore, he took his own life."

I couldn't believe it. She laughed at me and said the final piece that  made me realize I had to leave. "Just the way I'd planned it."

There was something very psychotically wrong with Lorna Lowell. And I needed to get away as quickly as possible.



Two.

That's how many weeks ago Lorna finally cut me off from everything. I  was removed from her will. I lost my bank accounts. Even my cell phone  contract was cancelled. I mean, she paid the penalty for early  termination just to cut my phone bill and show me who was boss.

I knew what she was trying to do.

She was trying to assert her dominance over me. Trying to get me to realize that I had to come crawling back to her.

Don't worry. That's something that I'll never do.

Luckily, I still had a decently paying job as a Wall Street intern.  Annualized, I made about $60,000 a year so I was able to open a bank  account on the same day. I basically had the clothes on my back and the  cash in my pocket, but with the help of a few friends, I was able to get  by till payday. That's when I began saving my money and couch surfing  till I finally found a one-bedroom walkup on the Lower East Side that I  was able to move into.         

     



 

"You should just stay with me," Mason immediately offered. But I knew  that I didn't want to put him in that situation. I want him to have me  over at his place because he wants to. Not because he thinks he's doing  me a favor.



Six.

That's how many days out of the seven that I've had my new apartment  that I've spent the night at Mason's place in One57. That's right, babe.  I moved into a new apartment and my first week I only spent one night.

I mean, it's a pretty different world from what I was accustomed to. It's a walk up. No doorman. No elevator.

The view is of a brick wall. The faucet in the bathroom leaks. It's  about the size of Mason's walk-in closet. It's definitely for people who  are either starving artists or holdovers from the days of rent control.  Nevertheless, I didn't mind staying there.

But there was one thing the apartment, with all it's independence from Lorna, couldn't give me that Mason could.

Sex.



Three.

That's how many times a day Mason and I have sex when I'm able to have  sex. Seriously, who would think that he was in his late thirties by the  way he fucks. He's like a pile driver powered by some sort of Energizer  battery. But whereas the bunny would tire out and nap, Mason just keeps  going and is ready for more at the drop of a hat, or the bending of a  waist.

Ever since the fist night in his apartment where I began to go all out  and call him Daddy, I haven't gotten it out of my head. I love  pretending he's my stepdad. I mean, technically, I suppose he was, even  though at 21 I'm fully emancipated from a woman who bears no familial  relation to me.

But it gets me so wet. I can't even begin to describe how filthy I feel  when I think about him spanking me as I beg him to smack my ass harder. I  moan out "Daddy, don't stop" as he puts his massive cock inside of me. I  groan "Daddy, cum all over my face" right before he sprays a quart of  cum all over me. And then I lick it up and swap it with him.

Just thinking about him right now has my panties drenched. You remember  how Mason told you back in the first chapter to take off your panties  before diving into the book? I wish someone had told me to stop buying  thongs before I met Mason. Because what's the point?

I mean, for someone on a budget, it's more cost effective for me to go commando. Saves on laundry costs.

But I want to make one thing clear though.

It's not just about the sex.

I think I'm falling in love with him.



One.

That's how many months I've been debating in my head whether I'm really  falling in love with the bad boy of Wall Street. I mean this guy used to  be a player. Yeah, I told you I know all about his MO. I've read  everything about him and that Stacy Sawyer chick on Market Pulse and how  they fucked.

But he really does care for me.

Not just because he takes care of me when Lorna cut me off. But just spending time with me.

Take the other day, for example.

I wanted to go to Kittichai, the Thai place on the West Side.

"That place is overrated," Mason said to me when I broached the subject.

"But their chicken curry is so good!" I whined. He looked at me and I  pouted. "After everything that's been going on, I could use something  like Thai food to pick me up."

It was true. Sharing a meal was a way to forget about the impending vote  of no confidence, the power that Mom was amassing in the Firm, or the  fact that I was caught in the center of it.

Also, I knew he couldn't resist that pout.

So I was a little surprised when he said nothing more and headed to work.

I followed an hour later and all day it was business as usual, both  sides of Kane Price desperately trying to make or break the Red Lion  Aviation deal.

Around 6 pm, Mason came by my desk.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked me.

I looked at him with a stupid stare.

"The car's waiting to take us to Kittichai," he said.

It's not just the fact that Mason Kane had actually planned and gotten  us into one of the hottest restaurants in New York City with a  reservation list of at least a month.

It's that he was standing at my desk, telling me that the car was waiting.

That he was acknowledging me in full view of the people on my floor.

That he held out his arm as I got up and we walked out, arm in arm.

That he opened the door for me to the car, and before I got in, stopped me.