2 Broke Girls - Herding Cats Ch. 03

Brad's diminished erection swayed between his thighs--but was quickly revitalizing, feeling Caroline's slim hand in his, the skin creamy and supple, all of her so damn pliant and sylphlike and as beautiful as he remembered. But no longer towering over him, unapproachable, unavailable. Now he could do what he wanted with her. He could make her as happy as he'd always wanted to.

Brad led Caroline out onto the balcony: taking the key from around his neck, unlocking the door, then shutting it behind them and locking it again. Forty stories out and with soundproof walls, the sounds of the city were as far away as the party inside. Brad took a deep breath of the night air and considered Caroline out in the moonlight, the pearly incandescence making her more than sexy.

Making her as beautiful as she was in his memories, ethereal, more like a ghost of his past than a real woman. But she was real. He could touch her. He could mold her into a shape quite unlike the unhappy woman she now was.

In her thin dress, Caroline shuddered against the cold, hugging herself, even as she exulted in the view of the New York skyline from among its heights. Brad wondered if she'd spent enough time away from her natural place in the food chain to forget how good it looked up here... maybe how good it made her feel.

"Brad, I didn't know you own this place."

"I don't, I'm just watching it for a friend. Drunken partygoers and waist-high guard rails aren't the best mix--so in return for a little responsibility, we won't be disturbed." He came up behind her and wrapped his arms soothingly against her body, while pressing his growing erection against her ass. "I have a proposition for you."

Caroline's voice caught. Surely she could feel his cock pressing between her buttocks, with only two layers of thin gossamer cloth between his flesh and hers--three if you counted her cape--but would she ignore it or would she take the initiative herself?

"What kind of proposition?" she asked, a lilt in her voice. She didn't sound like a woman outraged or offended--Brad wondered if he could press himself a little more tightly against her slender body.

"Your cupcakes." He brushed his lips against the delicate curve of her ear, albeit through her cowl. Such a teasing, phantasmagoric touch that it could safely be denied--and safely be enjoyed by the recipient. "Be honest. You came here, giving away free samples, to try and drum up business."

"Maybe. Why? Do you want my cupcakes?"

Brad grinned. She had to be picking that up from Max. The Caroline he remembered would never be so smutty. "There's a problem with your thinking. Rich people don't appreciate free samples. To them, everything is free. They'll forget your generosity the moment you're out the door. They might even resent you, the next time you see them, for expecting them to pay 'all of a sudden'." He set his hands on her cape, fastidiously straightening a curled fold. "They're not like you were."

He felt Caroline's spine stiffen. She was absorbing the truth of his words. Brad petted her sleeved arm soothingly. He toyed with her cape--pulling playfully on it to see if she bent to the pressure. Caroline didn't resist, but didn't give in either. He'd have to exert more force to see her move.

"You ever hear the expression, 'it takes money to make money'?" A smile on his lips, Brad kissed the side of Caroline's cowl. She felt the pressure of his mouth, knew what he was doing, but couldn't quite feel his touch on her bare skin. Brad was stirring the pot, not exactly making his move, but making no secret of his intentions either. "You don't have money."

"We have a war-chest," Caroline protested.

"Max's piggybank and the coins beneath the couch cushions?" Brad teased, sliding his lips along her purple cowl again. God, he felt like he could rip it right off--with his teeth. "I'm talking real money. Social media rollout. A storefront. Customized packaging. Fliers. Newspaper ads. Top-flight ingredients. Market research. And the all-important dressing for success. You and Max look good, but you have to look rich. You're not going to do that at the thrift shop."

As he barraged her, Brad turned her in his hands, then pressed her against his chest. Caroline's breath came hitched and spiking and jagged. The hard-on she'd felt against her ass was now between her thighs and the cape wasn't in the way anymore. Her eyes fluttered. She had to be finding it hard to concentrate, wondering what he'd do as well as pondering his thorny words.

"What are you suggesting?" Caroline asked--Brad knew he had her. She was too far gone now not to want to see this through... to get her money's worth... to want something more than just foreplay.

Lifting her chin up, Brad kissed her warmly. After all the play through her censorious costume, now he was touching her. Caroline felt his prick jolt with excitement against her defenseless groin.

"I want to invest in you," he said while she was still reeling from how their lips had met and parted.

Brad could've laughed at the sight of her now. She almost had stars circling around her head. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" she quipped weakly, a last-ditch defense mechanism misfiring. She wasn't really protecting herself. She was just so aroused, she couldn't even think enough to give in.

Brad smiled in appreciation of her pluck. "I want to buy out your whole operation. Fifty percent of the profits to me, twenty-five to Max and twenty-five to you. And in return, I'll invest heavily. Two hundred thousand to get everything up and running. You'll make a splash before anyone even realizes how good your product is. After that, the profit is all gravy. You'll be the next hot thing, on your way to becoming an institution."

Caroline's mouth gaped open, the woman stunned, physically weakened by his words. He pulled her body against his and kissed her heatedly, filling her mouth with his lascivious tongue. Caroline gasped through the kiss. Her nipples were standing up. Her cunt tingled.

"You're... you're going to fuck me," Caroline breathed.

"Fifty percent for two hundred thou up front is more than fair," Brad said coolly, even as his erection raged, straining away from his body and towards Caroline's snatch. He took her hands in his. "I'll make a tidy profit and you'll be rich. Isn't that what you want? What we both... want?"

Brad knelt, his hold on her hands drawing her down to her knees with him.. He could wait for the party to be over, get her into a real bed, but there was no way delayed gratification could be as good as the excitement he felt right now. Forcing her to the ground, to her back, he panted lustfully, beside himself with need for her.

Brad didn't consider himself to be a man who often lost control, but he was all but doing that now--giving himself permission to possess this woman even if it took everything he had. Mouthfucking her friend Max was supposed to take the edge off his ardor; it'd only taken it to another level. He had to have both of them; his two crown jewels.

Caroline looked up at him with wide eyes. He was kneeling beside her body, holding her down. Then he settled on an elbow next to her. His free hand slipped down over her toned stomach until he was touching the hem of her loincloth. Caroline knew it would only take a gesture to expose her.

"That's not what I meant," she murmured. "I mean... for this to work... you fuck me, right?"

"Caroline, don't kid yourself," Brad purred. "I'm going to fuck you whether or not you take the deal. If I were really mean, I'd make you pick: the business deal or the fuck you've been dying for. But since I like you, I'm going to give you both."

Caroline shivered and looked down her body at his wrist, seeing a dangerous weapon poised between her thighs. Her brain misfired. She clenched her legs shut and her hands jumped down to push at his, to keep his risky fingers away from her vulnerable sex.

"Do you want me to stop?" Brad teased her--from his tantalizing voice, he knew she didn't.

Her hands were weak on his wrist, as loose as spaghetti. He toyingly pushed against her grip; there was as much slack there as a bundle of rope. Caroline did nothing to stop his strong fingers from going under her skirt and rubbing at her tender cunt.

She gasped: now her fingers tightened. She held his hand against her panties.

"Relax those long legs, Caroline," Brad said in a lilting voice, as though hypnotizing her--although his touch was far more enthralling. It was burning in her brain like a shot of espresso. "Just relax. You're enjoying it already. You've spent too long in Max's shadow. She's sexy, you're beautiful."

Caroline was torn between relaxation his voice offered and the orgiastic adrenaline rush of his hand inside her panties. Which was she feeling? What did she want?

"Max is... beautiful..." Caroline mumbled, feeling her clit stiffen and throb. It felt treacherous, like it was serving Brad instead of her. But what was the treason in feeling good? Her body was supposed to feel good, right? Especially when some eligible mate was seducing her. That was Biology 101--what all her good looks were meant for.

"I agree," Brad purred. "But in a crass sort of way. An obvious sort of way. You're elegant. Delicate. Those sculpted features and that long, sensual body. Like a violin begging to be played by a master. You can't expect some dirty boy who mauls Max hard and fast, the way she likes, to be able to give you real pleasure. You're meant for a light touch. A light, loving touch--only where you're sensitive--touching you like the treasure you are... pleasing you as only you deserve..."

His soft voice went on and on, mesmerizing Caroline while his hand did something purely wicked between her legs. Caroline had never felt so dirty or so lovely. She had let a few of... Max's kind of people... get their hands on her, and she'd enjoyed it. But she hadn't loved it like she was loving this. This felt like a drug.

No, drugs were impure, cheap, scummy. This was a blood transfusion from the right donor. She'd survived on whatever it was she'd had with Max, but now she was living.

Brad sensed her turmoil of emotions dying away... all the reservations draining from her... now there was approval and enthusiasm and an enjoyment that bordered on need. This was what he'd wanted from Caroline and he rewarded her for it by playing her sensitive little clit with his thumb and forefinger until her sex was twitching nicely.

"Open your legs," he told her, giving her delicious lips a soft lick with the tip of his tongue--the little tease the exact opposite of the voluptuous sensations he was reaping between her thighs. "That's it... open them for me... nice and wide..."

"Brad..."

She didn't obey him, but Brad didn't chide her. There was no need to yell, no need to frighten Caroline when she was feeling so vulnerable and tender and had already been so sweet. He simply took his hand away.