Chapter 7
Sinclair
"See anything you like, baby?" Saint prowls over to her.
"Everything," she says breathily, as she flutters her patently false eyelashes at him.
Jesus, could these girls be any more obvious?
Saint looks her up and down, "You want to be treated like a lady, doll?"
She frowns, "Umm... I don't know."
He blows out a breath. "What belongs to you but other people use it more than you?"
She throws up her hands, "How am I supposed to know?"
He turns to sneer at us over his shoulder. "Goodluck with this one."
He brushes past her and ambles away.
She opens and shuts her mouth, "Umm, what was that?"
"That," Edward laughs, "was Saint." He jerks his chin at us, "And this is where I bow out, folks."
He heads for the door as the three other girls tumble in. The dark-haired girl from outside steps forward, stumbles, giggles, then straightens herself.
Weston prowls over to them, "Can I get you a drink, ladies?"
She titters, "You don’t think we are here to drink do you?"
The blonde shakes her head, glances past him to meet my gaze.
"And here I was, trying to be polite." Weston, widens his stance. "Guess I should simply say—go forth and claim your dates for the evening, people."
The dark-haired girl walks past Weston, heads straight for Damian, who's sprawled out on the couch.
"OMG, OMG, OMG!" Her chest heaves. "It's you. It's really you. You were so incredible out there." She folds her fingers together in front of herself. "You're soooo sexy."
I yawn.
Damian laughs, widens the gap between his legs. As if they'd rehearsed this before, she sinks down onto her knees between his thighs. She reaches down to unzip him, takes his cock out. Then without waiting for his invitation, she lowers her head and takes him in her mouth.
The squelching sounds of wet flesh meeting flesh fill the space and it's as if it’s a signal to the other three girls.
The third girl, the one with the long earrings, heads for Weston.
The fourth girl stares between Baron and Arpad. The two men exchange glances, then step toward her. She licks her lips, then places her hands—one on each of their chests.
The blonde from before, smiles at me.
I glare back at her and she hunches her shoulders. Of course, she's not going to stand up to me. I've yet to meet a woman who's able to go toe-to-toe with me. It's almost too easy to get them to comply with my demands.
I crook my finger at her.
She swallows, then walks around her friend who has locked lips with Weston, past her other friend who's leaning back and into Arpad, her arms flung around him, while Baron has his hands down her pants.
She reaches me.
I look her up and down. "Strip," I order.
She hesitates for only a moment before reaching for the ties around her neck. She tugs on them, and the garment falls away. Her large tits bounce as she bends to pull her skirt and her panties off. She stands completely naked in front of me. My eyes glaze. Shit... This isn't great.
Why am I not even remotely interested in the goods on display? Is it because it's too easy? Everywhere I glance, women are only too happy to spread their legs.
Turns out, the only thing more appealing than a man with lots of money, is a man with not enough.
One who doesn't care enough to give any of them the time of day.
The more I turn them away, the more they pursue me.
And yet, none of them pique my curiosity.
Why the hell can't I stir up an ounce of curiosity in the woman who's fondling her breasts, then running her hand between her legs to strum her pussy lips?
I glance down at my crotch then up at her.
She parts her lips and her breathing grows ragged. She gets down on her knees, lowers my zipper, then reaches for my cock. She massages me, swipes her hand from root to crown, again and again. Sweat breaks out on her forehead and her breath comes in pants.
I lean back, settle myself more comfortably, glance past her as I work out the details of our next multi-million pound deal.
She manages to get me semi-erect. Not bad. I tap her hand, and she releases me. Then leans in, closes her mouth around my cock, proceeds to take me down her throat again and again.
So about that deal... If the algorithm is right, we have forty-eight hours to work out our best approach. Which means a little more background research, then waiting for everyone else to dump their shares, which is when we'll buy it up and—
Finally my dick lengthens. I grip her hair and tug. She releases me.
"Up," I order. She jumps to her feet.
I pull out a condom from the back pocket of my jeans, and sheath myself.
I straighten, watch as she stares down at my crotch at how I pump myself, once, twice.
She places a knee on the couch next to me and I shake my head. I twirl the finger of my free hand. She frowns, then pivots to present me with her backside.
I stare down at her butt cheeks—and seriously? Did she have fillers injected into her arse cheeks? It sure seems that way.
I blow out a breath. Well, too bad. May as well get it over with. I need to blow my load to be relaxed before I go back to working on my deal. It'll help increase my efficiency.
I grab her waist, pull her close, then position her on my engorged dick.
"Impale yourself," I command.
She lowers herself onto me, then throws her head back in a loud groan.
I wince. Maybe this hadn't been a good idea.
"Grind yourself on me. Make me come," I order.
She proceeds to writhe around, almost falls off her perch.
I blow out a breath. Guess, sometimes a man's gotta take things into his own hands. Pun intended.
I tap her shoulder and she pauses.
She turns to face me.
"Get up."
Her gaze widens. She jumps up. I jerk my chin toward the wall.
She frowns, then heads to the wall, stands facing away from me with her hands braced against it.
I walk over to her, fit myself at the opening of her slit, then slam into her.
She groans, pushes her butt back. "Stop." I grab her shoulders.
"Wh...what?" She glances over her shoulders. "Don’t you like it?"
I stare at her. "Do I look as if I'm liking this?"
"Then why are you—?"
"Shut up," I command.
And her pupils dilate.
Shit. Apparently, the meaner you are, the more they like it. Who knew?
I slap my palms on either side of her, limiting my contact to where my dick is inside of her. I arch my hips, ram into her, propel myself forward, in and out, in and out. She begins to moan, and I hiss in her ear, "Keep the noise levels down, I need to think."
"Wha—?" She blinks rapidly, but complies.
I proceed to thrust in and out of her again and again, until my dick finally lengthens, throbs. My balls grow heavy and I come, shooting my load inside her.
I pull out immediately, then yank off the condom and tie it up. I walk over to the wastepaper basket in the corner of the room and dispose it off. There. Now about that deal; if I can simply hold my position just a few hours more—
"Hey!"
There's a touch on my arm. I shrug it off.
I zip myself up, walk toward the door.
"Hey, you arsehole." The woman grabs my arm. I pull it out of her grasp, keep going.
"You bastard." She swings around to stand in front of me. I sidestep her, head for the exit.
"You're a piece of shit, you know that?" she screeches. "You didn’t even get me off."
"Consider it a privilege that I fucked you with my dick, a mistake I won't repeat again, by the way."
"You... you..." I hear a choking sound behind me and can't stop the smirk curving my lips.
I hold up my hand, wiggle my fingers. "Don’t forget to collect your panties on the way out."