Chapter 17
JOHN
Iflew over five thousand miles to meet with these very anxious food-tech founders face-to-face so I can tour the London facility and assure them that I will land George Merrick as CTO to save their business, but all I can think about is Olivia’s naked body.
We’re exiting the futuristic-looking, climate-controlled air lock, where I inspected the vertical towers.
I inspected the plants, the automation systems. I checked the LED panels and looked at the monitoring data in the control room.
I saw the problem patterns immediately. Even though I was only half-listening to the facility manager and lead engineer, I could see what was working and what wasn’t—why they’re having technical issues.
I could, quite literally, do this in my sleep.
And for the first time ever, I am attending a meeting while very, very sleepy.
I’m pretty sure Alfie and Baxter can tell that I have a sex hangover, even though I blamed it on jet lag.
They follow me on Instagram. They’ve seen and liked the posts of me with Olivia.
I do have jet lag. It has been a long time since I’ve suffered from it, but I’m fairly certain that people with jet lag don’t walk around with big stupid grins on their faces. I can’t focus. This is not ideal.
If I’m not careful, I might give these guys another seventy-five million so I can go home and wait for Olivia to get back.
She was not delighted when I kissed her goodbye and told her a driver would be picking her up to take her to a ballet class.
She was hoping to stay in bed. I keep checking my phone to see if she’s texted me, because I can’t wait to find out how happy she is.
As we walk back to the meeting offices, I check my phone’s reception again.
Alfie clears his throat. “You certainly do seem to have it bad, Mr. Brandt,” he says with a grin. “Jet lag, I mean.”
“Perhaps you’re a bit peckish from the…lack of sleep?” Baxter asks. “Should we order a takeaway?”
If peckish means horny, then yes. Without even looking at the data, I can confirm that I am both immensely satisfied and supremely libidinous. However…
MIT-grad billionaire VC-mode activated. “Nothing for me—thanks.” As I take a seat at the meeting table, I slide my glasses up the bridge of my nose, tug on my shirt cuffs, and then clasp my hands together.
Didn’t take notes, and I don’t need them.
But I did get some good pictures to show Merrick.
“Thank you for the tour, gentlemen. I don’t need to tell you that your energy costs are killing you.
What I can tell you is that your HVAC system is running too often, and the LED efficiency is lower than spec.
The light spectrum is wrong for leafy greens.
Dr. Merrick published on all of this in 2019. ”
Alfie combs his fingers through his hair. “We have the research. We’ve read the research… We just can’t seem to implement it properly.”
“This is exactly why we need Merrick and only him,” Baxter says, pacing.
“And I will get him for you. I have a meeting with him at his home tomorrow.” I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. “I’m confident that we can scale once he guides you toward consistent yields and…”
Finally, a text from Olivia.
“Excuse me, I just need to…”
OLIVIA
How on earth did you get me into this Royal Ballet class with the company?!
ME
Oh, you know. Jedi mind tricks.
OLIVIA
Man, when you go into Good Boyfriend mode, you really lean in, huh?
ME
Yes, there was an update. It addressed a few bugs and user-related complaints.
OLIVIA
Seriously, though. Did you make a donation or something?
ME
General Relativity Ventures has been a sponsor for the past year or so.
OLIVIA
Fancy that.
ME
Fancy that.
OLIVIA
Well, class is about to start. When will I see you back at the flat?
ME
I have a few more meetings, but I’ll be home before five. I’m taking you out for dinner.
OLIVIA
See you then, Dooku.
ME
Hey. I’m on the right side of the Force. If anything, I’m Yoda. But hot.
OLIVIA
Shoulda quit while you were ahead, Nerdballs.
“Shit,” I say under my breath, shaking my head and grinning. I can’t wait to rewatch all the Star Wars movies with her, naked.
I look up and remember I’m in a meeting with Archie and Buxby. Or whoever.
Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I say, “Right. Merrick will be able to tell you the optimal PPFD and positioning for each crop, but I can tell you right now that the blue light for the leafy greens should be four hundred fifty nanometers. And could I get some water? I need to front load my magnesium supplements.”
When I finally return to the flat, I no longer feel the effects of jet lag because I’m so fucking excited to see Olivia again.
I enter the front door quietly, finding her shoes and the duffel bag she took to ballet class in the entrance hall.
I can smell her perfume. I can hear music playing from her phone in the drawing room.
Maybe she’s dancing and stretching, and she’ll crawl to you on her hands and knees again, my cock is thinking.
But when I step through the doorway, I find her sitting cross-legged on the big picture window ledge.
She’s backlit by the summer afternoon light.
The sun gently filters through the thin fabric of her white blouse, illuminating the outline of her naked breasts as she reads the book she’s holding in her lap.
This will also do, my cock decides.
Her legs are bare. Smooth. She’s wearing nothing but a blouse and panties as she awaits my return. That seems like such a high-level, live-in girlfriend move. There’s a wineglass on the table nearby, with a little red wine left in it.
If I could come home to this every day, I’d be the luckiest man who ever lived, but I’d have a nonstop erection. Could be bad for business.
When she hears me sigh, she drops the book and runs toward me with the grace and speed of a panther, leaping into my arms and wrapping herself around me.
She is somehow lighter than air and strong enough to do whatever she wants her body to do, and she is kissing me all over my face.
I’m too happy to speak. I don’t want to move, don’t want this to end.
My face is a stage, and her lips are dancing all over it.
Olivia, Olivia, Olivia.
Her mouth finds mine, and she kisses me with the kind of passion that motivates men to fight in wars and build empires and buy fresh lavender bouquets in Pittsburgh in the winter.
Her tongue tastes like Cabernet Sauvignon, and I feel drunk.
When she pulls her head back, she says, “Hi, Yoda. How was your day?”
“Oh, my day is just getting started. How are you doing?”
“I’m kind of tipsy and doing an amazing job of not showing it!”
“I never would have guessed if you hadn’t told me.” I turn and carry her through the entrance hall, to the back, and out to the walled garden.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day,” she says, circling her arms around my neck.
“Yeah? I had an amazing time this morning. Did I mention that? You’re amazing.”
“Thanks. You’re the Baryshnikov of sex!”
“Thanks! You’re the Steve Jobs of wit. I thought about you too.” I let her down so we can walk down the steps to the seating area. “Tell me about your day.”
“I took a class with the fucking Royal Ballet!” She covers her mouth, looking around for neighbors, and I find that exceptionally cute. Particularly because she’s concerned about being loud but doesn’t seem to care that she isn’t wearing pants.
“It’s okay. The estate agent told me the greenery muffles the sound. You liked the class?”
“I mean…” She shrugs. “I danced on the same stage Fonteyn and Nureyev performed on, but whatevs.”
“You’re so hard to please.” I take a seat on one of the sturdy wicker chairs. Olivia takes a seat on my lap without me even having to ask.
“I loved it so much! It was amazing, Johnny. Thank you. That was the best surprise ever.”
I check my watch because we have a reservation at an Italian restaurant in Mayfair in about an hour. “What’d you do after?” Olivia’s legs are dangerously smooth, and I need to stop touching them.
“I had lunch at the restaurant there at the opera house.”
I can’t stop touching her legs. “By yourself?”
She tosses her hair and starts absentmindedly unbuttoning her blouse. “With some of the dancers.”
“Oh, yeah?” Without warning, Olivia leans back, swings her left leg up and over my head and straddles me.
She carefully removes my glasses, places them on the ground, and then gently pulls her blouse apart, exposing her breasts, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Yeah, they were so friendly.”
She arches her back, and I dip down to cup and kiss her tits. “Nice ladies, huh?”
She starts unbuckling my belt and unbuttoning my pants. “And a couple of nice men.”
“Oh, yeah?” I don’t like the sound of that. But she’s sliding her hand inside my boxer briefs, so nothing really bothers me much right now. “Nice men who are in a relationship with each other?”
“I think they were gay adjacent.” She strokes my erection so gently. Like a beloved pet. “But I told them I have a boyfriend, so…”
“Yeah?” I like the sound of that a lot. “Fucking hell, I love your tits.”
“Yeah?”
“All day, I kept thinking about how it felt when you rubbed my cock against them.”
“That felt so good. I’ve been thinking about how big and hard you got and how good you tasted.”
“Jesus.” She’s twisting the palm of her hand around the head, and I can’t stop squeezing her ass.
What’s that beeping sound?
“Fuck. Fuck!” I turn off the alarm on my phone that’s reminding me we have to get ready because the driver’s picking us up in half an hour. “Baby, we gotta get ready,” I say into her mouth as she kisses me.
“No, no, no, no, noooo.” She gets a firmer grip on my erection. “Do you by chance have any condoms in your pocket, good sir?”
“No, milady, I do not.” It absolutely kills me, but I remove her hand from my unyielding appendage and attempt to lift her up off my lap. “I have a reservation at a very exclusive restaurant, and the driver’s coming.”
“You’re coming first,” she says slyly as she lowers herself between my legs.
I look around. It is secluded back here. But the plan was to stay focused until after I sign Merrick as CTO. “Hold that thought. We’ll revisit this in a couple of days.”
“Pffft.”
She’s on her knees, tugging my pants down, and it would be rude not to lift my ass up to make it easier for her. “Remember that time you said you don’t want to be obligated to have sex with me?” My pants are around my ankles, and I left my self-control in California.
“I don’t feel obligated,” she says, letting her pretty blouse drop to the ground. “I just really want to give you an optimized blowjob.”
“Carry on, then, but don’t dawdle.” I lean back, spreading my legs wider. She’s already licking the pre-cum and moaning. “You’re a fucking dream, baby.”
She lubes up my entire dick with her saliva and says, “Did you dream about me doing this to you when you were in college?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Tell me.” She looks up at me as she licks up my shaft. “Tell me what you fantasized about.”
“I had so many fantasies, it would take a year.”
“Tell me about one thing.”
“Your hot, wet mouth wrapped around my cock.”
“Mmm-hmmm.”
“While I highlight my class notes on pseudo-nominal complexity.”
“Mmmmm.”
“You’re under my desk in my dorm room, naked.”
“Oooooh.”
“You make a joke about programming my Python.”
“Sure.”
“You get all sloppy with your tongue, just like that. So eager to please me,” I say.
“And then you complain about how big I am and take me deep, to the back of your throat, choking on my cock. I have to get to a lecture in fifteen minutes, so I tell you to hurry up and make me come. That makes you mad, but you do what I say because it’s my fantasy.
And then you tell me you want me to come all over you, because that’s your fantasy. ”
“I do want you to come all over me,” I hear Olivia say.
My vision is so blurry, and I’m losing my mind. Did she just say that? “Really? Now?”
“Yeah.”
“If that’s what my baby wants, that’s what my baby’s gonna get.”
Olivia leans back, resting on her hands, knees on the ground, watching me intently with hooded eyes. A groan emerges deep from my throat. I want to drop to my knees and thank her, but I get up from the chair, wrap my fist around my cock, and give it a few long, slow strokes.
“You sure this is what you want?” I stroke myself harder, faster.
She licks her lips, massages her breasts, and says, grinning, “All over my tits, Johnny. Hurry, before you’re late for class.”
Fuck me.
Real Olivia is dirtier than I ever allowed myself to dream of.
I stifle a groan and feel her hands over mine, guiding my explosion onto her chest. But I can’t keep my eyes open to watch myself come on her tits. That’s the only way the fantasy topped this—I could always see her when I came.
I don’t know if there are birds in the tree above us or neighbors with their ears pressed against the vine-covered fence behind me, and I don’t even care if the king himself is flying overhead in a helicopter.
For now, I don’t even care that I don’t care.
My legs are weak. I sit back in the chair and try to keep my head up. “Baby,” I whisper, reaching for her.
“Look,” she says. She’s staring down at the glistening, cloudy-white liquid.
I pull her to me and kiss her deeply. Somewhere in the back of my mind, there’s a thought about a driver and a time and a reservation and some business things that are probably important.
But in front of me is the woman I’ve been planning to marry, who just asked me to come all over her, so fuck absolutely everything else.