I want to taste every inch of her. That skin, smooth and perfect, and those perfect pink little nipples. And her pussy, delicious little pussy, I want to feel it wrapped around my cock. I want to make her scream my name as I fuck her deep and rough. At this point, I almost don’t care if she begs for it first or not.
I’m sure I’ll make her beg for it once she gets a little taste.
I take a deep breath and glance at the clock. I need to get going. And I need to stop thinking about this. My plan was to seduce her, and that’s still my plan. I’m close to getting it just right, and so I need to stay patient and in some measure of control. I have about three more weeks for this, and that’s plenty of time. Besides, I can always buy her again if I want more time.
I call for a car then get up and head out. My secretary tells me where the meeting is supposed to be, this little Italian bistro a few blocks away, and then I head downstairs to get into the waiting car.
We drive the short trip to the restaurant and I have to force myself not to think about Aria at all during the drive. I need to concentrate.
This deal with Richard is getting dicey. He’s an intense man with an intense fortune, and he’s always playing to win. Everything with him is a game. He doesn’t care if something is mutually beneficial or not, he just wants to win, whatever he believes winning actually means. That’s just the kind of man Richard is. Nothing else matters to him but the deal, and it’s getting fucking exhausting.
This shouldn’t be as difficult as it is, but Richard can’t make it easy. We both stand to profit here, but he wants to make sure his bottom line is the best it can possibly be by pushing back against me. Maybe he thinks I’m weak and ripe for pillaging or some shit, but he’s in for a surprise.
The driver drops me out front and I head inside. Richard is at a booth toward the center of the restaurant, and I head over to him. He smiles and stands as I approach.
“Ethan,” he says. “Glad you came.” We shake hands and then sit back down.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I say.
“Did you see the latest contracts?” he asks, diving right into business.
That’s not like him. He seems laser focused today for some reason. He’s normally much more interested in shooting the shit and drinking, but today he’s having only water and a simple sandwich for lunch.
I don’t let that get to me, though. We dive into the contracts and start negotiating clauses. He’s quibbling about the silliest, most worthless shit, and a half hour passes. I almost want to fucking yell at him to get over himself, but I know that’s not productive.
The meeting wears on until finally Richard leans back in his seat and orders a whisky from the waitress. I can tell that he’s done discussing and so am I. Richard is an arrogant bastard, but I want this deal to go through. It’d be damn good for both of us.
But I can’t keep doing this. “What are we doing here, Richard?” I ask him.
“What do you mean?”
“From the start of this, you don’t seem like you want this deal to happen. Do you really give a shit about lighting renovations?”
He watches me for a second, a small smile on his face. “No,” he admits, although just ten minutes earlier he was trying to get a clause in the contract that states we can’t change lighting fixtures for two years to “preserve his brand,” which is utter shit.
I sigh and lean back in my seat, at least happy to get some truth from him. “Okay then. Tell me what you want.”
The waitress comes back with his drink and he grins at me, taking a swig. He leans forward toward me, that grin still on his face. “I’ve been reading about you for years, Ethan,” he says.
I raise an eyebrow. “So?” I ask. “Business reporters love to make shit up.”
“Sure, sure. They really do. But to be completely honest with you, Ethan, it’s been pissing me off. A lot. For a long time.”
“You’re angry that the media is covering me?”
“No,” he says, laughing. “No, I’m angry that they’re covering you and not me. I used to be the young hotshot, you know. Everything they say about you, they used to say about me.”
“They still write about you all the time,” I say softly, beginning to get a bad feeling.
“Never good. Not anymore. They’re biased against me.”
“So, what? You have a grudge against the media and you’re taking it out on me?”
He shrugs. “More or less. I also don’t like you, Ethan. I think you’re an arrogant piece of shit with no talent and no experience. You come from nothing because you are nothing.”