The Sunday Arrangement (20 page)

His fingers spread my
tender lips before he used a long finger to push inside me. Lightning cracked
through the sky of my world. I arched my back and whimpered as his fingers explored.
I swirled my tongue around the shaft of his penis, paying close attention to the
soft underside of his sensitive head. He moaned right into my pussy while his
fingers continued to fuck me, and it encouraged me to keep going. The more I
concentrated on giving him pleasure, the more heightened my own enjoyment
became.

His tongue lightly
teased my clit as his finger continued to probe.

 “Oh, God,” I said.
“Oh, God.” The feeling was indescribable. I didn’t know how much more I could
take without completely surrendering to the pleasure steadily mounting inside
of me.

I took just the tip
of the head into my mouth and sucked. Once again, his hips bucked. I used my
hand to pump the shaft as I sucked on his incredibly hard cock. My other hand
played with his scrotum. I gently cupped his balls, now raised in arousal, in
my palm as I continued to focus on the head and the shaft. Soon, I was moving
farther and farther down his shaft with my mouth. Back and forth. Up and down.

I returned to placing
kisses down his shaft and around the head. I felt him tense up, and I pumped
his shaft faster, rolling my thumb over the head a few times. I encouraged him
to come as I held my mouth open over him; I wanted to taste some of him. He
gripped my waist as he silently came, his cum shooting into my mouth. I looked
directly at the camera as I licked my lips and swallowed. It wasn’t as bitter
as I was expecting it to be.

He now worked harder
to get me off. He added another finger and his tongue moved over my clit.
Sparks of pleasure coursed through me. I pressed myself closer to his face,
trying to get the most contact possible. He started sucking on my clit. The
animal within me moaned loudly, wildly. I could feel myself about to lose total
control.

He slapped me on the
ass, harder than before. I gasped in surprise and moaned even louder.

“Again!” I yelled.
And he spanked me even more aggressively. Pain seared through me, and a wild
urge mounted within me like fireworks exploding in the night sky. I came, and
he took some of my juices onto his tongue. I collapsed on top of him as I
recovered from my high. My breathing was ragged, and I could feel his chest
rise and fall quickly. We were both too weak to move.

After a few moments,
I rolled off his body, now dewed with sweat. I turned around to face him now. I
kissed him, and his hand slapped my ass again. I moaned into the kiss. I could taste
myself on his lips. He reached into the bedside table, pulled out a condom, and
handed it to me. I quickly opened it, somewhat surprised that he was ready for
round two, and moved down his body slowly to place it on him. Then I got on top
of him again.

“Bend your knees and
spread your legs apart,” I said.

He gave me a weird
look.

“Just try it—it’s
something I learned.”

Once he had done as I
asked, I positioned myself over him and sank down onto him. His hardness and
eagerness was a pleasant surprise. I leaned back and used my palms to brace
myself on either side of his legs. It was an uncomfortable position, but worth
it as it allowed me to feel the full girth of his penis. He started to thrust
into me, and I had to bite my lips to keep from yelling. The magazine was right—it
did stimulate the G-spot. His hands massaged my breasts as he humped me. I
could feel another orgasm building quickly; I was amazed and aroused at my
body’s response—it wasn’t that long after my first climax. My inner walls clamped
down around his penis, and he moaned but continued to thrust into me with the
same amount of force. Suddenly he flipped us over, not losing a beat, before he
continued to drive himself into me. Minutes passed. My body pulsed with
pleasure, but the orgasm high was starting to leave me, no matter how hard I
tried to convince her to stay. I needed other stimulation.

 As though he read my
mind, his hand traveled down my stomach toward my clit. He used light pressure
to rub my pussy in small, rhythmic circles.

“Do you like that?”
he asked. “Do you like that, naughty girl?”

“Yes, oh God. Yes,” I
muttered in response. I liked his second attempt at the dirty talk.

“Your pussy is so
wet. Do you want me? Do you want me inside you again?”

I nodded eagerly. I
arched my back as he pushed himself inside me again. “Pierce!” I yelled.

“God, Lauren. You
feel so good. Your pussy is so tight and so warm.” His hand never left my clit
as he continued to stimulate me and worked me to yet another orgasm.

I gripped his broad shoulders
as the climax, once again, surged throughout my body like an electric current—an
explosion bursting within me. My heartbeat was fast as he continued to thrust.
Soon he was coming again with a deep, satisfied moan. He rolled off me and
collapsed on the bed.

I was completely exhausted
and couldn’t budge. Pierce had worn me out, and the thought of getting dressed,
hailing a cab, and going all the way back to my place seemed nearly impossible.
I tried to stop it, but a cloud of fatigue wrapped around me. I was in the
fetal position, facing the other wall. Already I heard Pierce’s soft snoring. I
ended up falling asleep, tangled in the sheets.

Right before dawn I
woke up to see he was lying next to me, fast asleep. He looked so peaceful and
sweet. I longed to kiss his soft lips. After a few minutes of admiring the rise
and fall of his steady breaths, I decided to leave. I resisted the urge to wake
him and say good-bye, though I wondered if he would insist that I stay. Instead,
I quickly grabbed my clothes and snuck out before he could wake up. He’d made
it clear that he didn’t want me to spend the night, no matter how exhausted we
may be, and I didn’t want to feel unwelcome in the morning. When I got home,
however, something even more unwelcoming was waiting for me in my living room.

“What the hell are
you doing here?” I said groggily. My father sat on one of my iron barstools in the
kitchen, nursing a teal coffee mug. He didn’t even bother to look at me as I
slammed the door to my condo. I knew it was him when I saw his fat, bald head
and seemingly non-existent neck. “How did you get in here? And more
importantly, why are you here?” I couldn’t keep the anger from searing through
my voice. Dad was the last person I wanted to see right now. I was eager to
curl up in bed for the rest of the day, not talk shop and logistics with my unappeasable
boss.

“Seems odd that
you’re the one chastising me, daughter,” he said sternly. His head was still
facing the opposite direction.

For the first time
that early morning, I realized my situation. Heels in hand, makeup smeared all
over my face, and my hair a hot, tangled mess, it was obvious I had just come
from a one-night stand. Dad would, unfortunately, be able to read me like the
large font of an open book. “What are you doing here, Dad?” I asked again as I
threw my heels on the floor. “Surely this can wait till morning?”

“It is morning,” he
said. “This is my favorite time of day, just before the sun peeks out on the horizon.
The world is still calm and quiet. No one seems to be stirring or bustling
about. It’s when I do my best thinking, actually. The silence heightens my
productivity.” He spun the chair around to stare at me.

My hands were on my
hips. I didn’t buy his contemplative crap one bit. “Cut to the chase, Dad. What
do you want?” I sank into the linen wingback chair near the sofa, exhausted. It
took all of my willpower not to fall asleep.

“Looks like you’ve
had a rough night,” he said simply.

“I was out. Went
gambling with some friends and had one drink too many, I guess . . .” my voice
trailed off.

 “Win anything?” he
asked. “Did you . . . hit the jackpot?”

My eyes dropped to
the floor. His tone was insinuating something, but I wasn’t sure what. Did he
know that I had just come from Pierce’s condo? “Nah, I’m a horrible blackjack player.
I nearly always give my hand away.”

He took a small sip
from the mug in his hand and stared out my window with its picturesque view of
the city but said nothing. His silence was made me nervous, but I was too tired
to guess or keep pestering him about why he was here.

“I’ve come to discuss
Pierce with you, Lauren,” he said after a few moments. His tone was flat and indiscernible.

“And a simple phone
call wouldn’t suffice?”

 He ignored me and
set his coffee on my granite island countertop. “Have you been able to discover
any information for me regarding Pierce’s loyalty to Hart Corp since our last
conversation?”

 I fidgeted in my
chair. I’d discovered plenty about him, all right. The way his hips bucked when
I licked his ear lobe. How his curly hair bounced to life when he thrust his
dick inside me. The way his beautiful, powerful cock felt—long and hard. “To be
honest, I haven’t thought much about your paranoid concerns since we talked a
few days ago.” This was true. I’d convinced myself that Pierce was arrogant and
crotchety around the workplace, but at least he was a man of integrity. He
wouldn’t screw Hart Corp over, and he definitely wouldn’t be able to do so without
me knowing about it. “I did start to take back some of the control on the
project, like you asked,” I offered. “But he’s done nothing that would raise
any red flags . . . to me anyway.”

“I came here to talk
to you because I fear that it is no longer safe to discuss Pierce or the
intricacies of this project via telephone.”

 “No longer safe?”

He glanced around the
room. “I have reason to believe we are being watched.”

I chuckled softly, my
voice breaking from my lack of sleep. “Dad, c’mon. Are you serious? First,
they’re taking over the casino project, and now they’re spying on us?”

 “I am serious,
actually. And I don’t appreciate you laughing at me

I sat forward in my
chair. Was he just messing with me?

“Like I said, I have
reason to believe that this project is being hijacked. That’s why I insisted
that you watch Pierce.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I said,
waving my hand dismissively. “You’ve said that already, but you have yet to
convince me or offer any real proof. I’m with him every day, Dad. If he was
doing something, trust me, I’d know about it.”

My father walked to
the sofa and sank down on the plump cushions. “There’s a lot you don’t know
about, Lauren, between Peter Maverick and me. I’d tell you, I really would, but
I don’t want to involve you more than you already are.”

“Dad you’re making me
nervous,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“Just trace your
mind. I need you to think of anything, anything at all that might be an
indication that Pierce is screwing over my company.”

The intensity of his
voice made me cringe. “I . . . I can think about only one thing. But I don’t
think it was anything, really. It was just kind of weird, that’s all.” I took a
deep breath. I felt a little guilty that I was talking about Pierce like this,
like he was a criminal who had done something wrong. “One day at work, he got a
really strange phone call. He took it in the room, so he clearly didn’t mind
that we were hearing it.”

“Wait, ‘we’? Who’s ‘we’?”

I rolled my eyes.
“April. His blond bimbo assistant. Totally gorgeous, totally retarded.”

“Sounds like every
assistant Peter’s ever had in his hole-in-the-wall office.”

I tried to push away the
image of Pierce 69-ing April on tape like he had just done with me. God knew
the little tramp would fly under the covers with him if he asked her to. And he
probably already had. “Anyway . . .” I said, shaking my head, “he took this
call and he sounded really weird. He said something like, ‘That’s not how it
was, and you know it. I did it for her sake,’ or something like that. He seemed
really upset by it. He hung up on the caller, but they kept ringing him back.
He mumbled something about having to get the number blocked on his phone.”

“Who’s the gal he’s
talking about?”

I shrugged
exasperatedly. “I told you everything I know! I don’t think that’s even
anything to be concerned with, Dad. Probably just a crazy ex-girlfriend or
something. I’m sure he has plenty of those,” I sneered. I hoped my father
wouldn’t pick up on the bitterness in my voice.

He crossed one of his
long legs over the other. “Did you follow up on this call? Did you ask him
about it later?”

“It was pretty
obvious it wasn’t open for discussion,” I said. “Besides we don’t really have that
kind of relationship.” I remembered April stupidly asking him about it. He had
been short and defensive, a Pierce I wouldn’t want to touch with a ten-foot
pole.

“See? These are the
kinds of things I’m talking about. When instances like that happen, I need to
know about it, Lauren. You need to let me know every time there’s something out
of the ordinary.”

“You’re literally
making no sense. Under that analysis, I’d be calling you every two minutes. It’s
not a rarity for Pierce to be rude and short with me. That’s not exactly
breaking news.”
Unless we’re in the bedroom, then he takes his sweet time
.