A Billionaire's Life Ch. 02

"I love you too, Cassandra." I replied sincerely. "Come sleep with us tonight."

Cassandra blushed and nodded. "I will." And then she gathered her clothes and left.

I felt an odd tug watching my beautiful assistant leave. We shared a connection, something special. It wasn't like the bond I had with Taylor; it was less hot and passionate, but steadier and stronger. And as the statuesque blonde walked out the door, I felt a tremendous compulsion to go with her. Forget the mass orgy behind me and all the carnal pleasures. I could be just as happy cuddling with Cassandra right now.

"John!" Rebecca called from behind me.

I turned to see a writhing and panting Charlotte flat on her back across a padded bench, all four limbs spread to the four corners. She was low enough that Rebecca could stand and straddle Charlotte's face, forcing the pretty brunette to eat her out. She was also rubbing the riding crop across her bound victim's chest, flicking it against an erect nipple every now and again. A black vibrator was currently buzzing in Charlotte's pussy, but with Charlotte's legs spread wide, I could also see the dark rosebud of her asshole.

Rebecca grinned and held up a bottle of lube. "I need to pay back this bitch for what she did to me." Rebecca rubbed her own sore butt. "Will you help me?"

I smiled and took one last look out the door, but Cassandra was gone.

Then I looked around. Taylor was folded over some wedge shaped cushion while Jeff drilled her from behind. Mia and Kaitlyn were sixty-nining on the couch. And Rebecca moved around to start pressing globs of lube into Charlotte's anal chute in preparation for me to ream out Taylor's pretty assistant.

I started walking towards Rebecca and Charlotte's bondage apparatus. I was living the good life.

***

"Wait, WHAT?" I glared at Cassandra with fire in my eyes. "WHO gave Richardson an alternate deal?"

My gorgeous personal assistant looked helplessly at her Blackberry, then slowly and deliberately took off her earpiece and pocketed everything before returning her gaze to mine. The intervening seconds had let me stomp around the green a little longer and blow off some steam. I glared at my wife as if to say 'I TOLD you so.'

Taylor held her putter in a tight grip and looked at me with some concern, fiddling with her cap and waiting for the inevitable repeat of Cassandra's bad news. Charlotte just seemed to hide behind Taylor.

Cassandra composed herself, her eyes a flint grey as she looked at me. Very calmly she repeated, "Martin Dean offered Richardson a counterproposal. The deal's off."

"That's what I thought I heard you say. Call the jet. We're going home." I started stomping towards the golf carts, all three ladies in tow. No one complained that we hadn't finished our round. It's not that they minded me trying to teach them golf; but they'd come for the warm beaches and spa pampering, so I don't think anyone particularly cared that we were cutting our golf round short. They'd already enjoyed enough of our impromptu vacation to Florida.

"Since when did Dean go into acquisitions? Did he leave the firm?"

Cassandra shrugged. She kept track of our competitors and Martin Dean clearly hadn't even been on her radar. "I'll find out," she promised.

"He KNOWS this is my deal. He's doing this to fuck with me, isn't he?" I glared again at Cassandra. Just last week, the devastatingly handsome but colossal asshole of an ex-coworker had gotten a hold of Taylor's cell number and sent her a couple of suggestive text messages. Now he was interfering in my business.

I squeezed my putter and had half a mind to try breaking it over my knee. "Dean doesn't have the capital for this. Where is he getting the capital for this?"

"I don't know. I'll have the guys look into it," Cassandra assured me.

"Sixty-million net profit!" I threw up my hands. "Everything was perfect! Dean doesn't have the resources to deliver but he's somehow convinced Richardson to table my offer and listen to his horse-shit? I'll bet he's not even planning to finish the counterproposal. He's doing this just to fuck with me!"

"You don't know that, Jonathan."

"Watch... You'll see," I pointed at Cassandra. "In a week Richardson will call us back wanting to reopen negotiations because he sees Dean can't pull it together. And a week after that, we'll finally close it. But it's going to cost us time and manpower to redo all this shit, and in two weeks we might not have the buyers anymore. Fucking asshole cocksucking prick!" I yelled as I flung my putter into the bag.

Automatically, Taylor went to the second cart while Cassandra joined me, knowing I wasn't done bitching about the business deal just yet. A second later, Cassandra's Blackberry beeped. She checked it and then her face fell.

"What?" I sniped.

"Uh, nothing, nothing."

"Cassandra, don't try to lie to me."

"Trust me, it can wait."

"Cassandra..." I said warningly.

She sighed. "Sharpley just told me that Martin Dean is coming to the party tomorrow night."

Twisting my face up into a wicked snarl, I reached out and slammed my hand as hard as I could against the steering wheel. "FUCK!"

***

"I know how you feel, John. But don't worry. We've done too much good business together to let some brash gunslinger muscle in. As soon as you can get Richardson to sign, we'll be ready." The white-haired CEO smiled as he shook my hand. I knew I could always count on Morse. In two short years we'd already done a lot of business together.

We said our pleasantries and then I took Taylor's arm and we headed for the patio. The heat lamps were going full blast and from this Central Park West high- rise, we had a gorgeous view of the park lit up at night.

She patted my arm and reassured me, "It'll all work out, Johnny."

"I hope you're right."

My wife touched her palm to my face and looked at me adoringly. I smiled and placed my hand over hers. "I love you, Taylor."

Taylor's radiant expression was all the response I needed. Rarely did I initiate those three words, but I meant them every time. "I love you too, Johnny."

It was days like today that made me wonder why the hell I was doing all this. Why was I stressing out when I could just stay at home and be in love with my wife? I already had way more money than I could ever spend in my lifetime. I had more money than my *kids* could ever spend, the imaginary kids that Taylor had recently begun to ask me about. So why was I getting anxious about financial mergers and corporate handshakes?

Couldn't I just be happy staying at home, taking exotic vacations and screwing the bevy of beautiful women around me?

I'd get bored. I knew I'd get bored. There was a reason I'd gone into finance and it wasn't just because of the high income. I actually LIKED the deals. I LIKED the adrenaline rush. I LIKED making money out of thin air.

But when a deal failed, I could be absolutely miserable.

Sighing, I told myself it hadn't failed yet. Dean had yet to deliver. And if Dean was going to deliver, he was going to have to get Aaron Morse to commit to him. The same Aaron Morse who just shook my hand and guaranteed me he'd stick with me.

Of course, that was why Martin Dean was crashing this party. He was coming to try and change Morse's mind. And as if on cue, there he was.

"Ah, shit," I snarked under my breath as I saw Dean and his date. "Do you think he does this on purpose?"

Taylor wasn't quite listening to me. She just stared and inhaled sharply in surprise at the woman wrapped around Dean's arm. "Ashlyn?" she gasped.

Ashlyn similarly saw us and started pulling her date with her as they headed for us. At first Dean just grinned while I glowered at him. But then he saw Morse off to the side having a conversation with some of the other movers and shakers on Wall Street.

I couldn't hear what he said over the din of the other guests, but Dean excused himself from Ashlyn and then headed for Morse. That left the stunning redhead free to scamper straight to us.

"Taylor! John! So good to see you guys!"

Taylor managed a smile and the girls did their hugging and air kissing thing. "What are you doing here?"

"Duh, Fashion Week starts in six days!" Ashlyn's smile lit up the room.

"I know THAT," Taylor drawled. "But here? At this party?"

"And why are you with HIM?" I growled in a low voice.

"What?" Ashlyn shot me a flirty look and giggled. "Are you jealous?"

"Dean's got a history. He's dangerous, Ashlyn," I said seriously.

"All men are dangerous around me, Johnny," the redhead sassed and kicked her hip out. "I can handle myself."

Then Ashlyn grabbed Taylor's hands and glanced over her shoulder where I could see Dean working himself into the conversation with Morse's circle.

"He IS gorgeous though, isn't he?" Ashlyn gushed.

"Ash..." Taylor held her friend's hand and squeezed them. "Johnny used to work with him. He's not a good guy."

"Hmph," Ashlyn yanked her hands away. "What do you know? Marty already told me the whole story. Your husband here couldn't deliver for a client and he got upset when Marty rode in to save the day. So John and Marty are rivals. So what?"

"Ash..." Taylor cautioned.

"Don't worry. I only met him last night, and he has done at least one good thing for me. He knew you'd be at this party and he invited me because I wanted the chance to see you again," Ashlyn smiled prettily at Taylor. "Who cares about the rest? Men and their business. It's all just little zeroes anyways. Ooh..."

Ashlyn interrupted herself for a moment when she snatched a champagne flute from a waiter cruising by. "Forget the finance stuff. Oh, did you hear about Zdenka? She totally coked out last week..." With that, Ashlyn tugged Taylor away and they got into their model-gossip. I wasn't paying attention anyways. I was too busy glowering at Dean across the room.

***

For the rest of the evening, I left Taylor with Ashlyn and went around mingling with current and potential business associates.

The pair of models split up every now and again to rejoin their respective dates. Taylor wanted to fill me in on some of the juiciest gossip that I didn't honestly care about. Ashlyn was drinking more and more champagne despite her rather light body weight, and she was getting quite flirty with Martin Dean before he had to scurry back and present his sales pitch to another Wall Street guru.

Of course, the few times he tried to do so with Ashlyn by his side backfired on him. Whomever he was talking to spent more time ogling Ashlyn in her short dress and plunging neckline than listening to his spiel.

When the party started winding down, I finally got the conversation I'd been hoping for when Aaron Morse came over and shook my hand. "Don't worry, John. Dean's got a silver tongue and he charmed the boys; but loyalty is loyalty. If nothing else, I did a LOT of business with your father. I'll see you in two weeks when his financing crashes out and we'll close the deal."

I walked out of that party with a big smile on my face...

... at least until we got to the elevator to take us back to the rooftop helipad and catch our ride home. While we were waiting for the elevator car to arrive, the apartment door opened and a giggling, half-drunk Ashlyn stumbled out with Martin Dean holding her up. He smiled and pressed her against the wall, then leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.

The elevator dinged and Taylor, while glowering herself, tugged me into the empty car. But just before the doors closed them out, I saw Dean slip his hand beneath the hem of her dress and tug on Ashlyn's ass to grind her crotch against him.

And at the very last moment, he looked at me and winked.

***

"Whoa! Stop hitting so hard! This is about form and exercise, not wasted energy." Rebecca took the blocking glove off her hand and shook it out.

I kept bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet, like I was in a boxing ring, burning off more nervous energy. Three days after the party, Dean's proposal wasn't showing any signs of falling apart. And for some reason, three days later, I still had a vision in mind of Martin Dean fucking Ashlyn.

The very thought made my blood boil.

Rebecca dropped her other blocking glove and reached out to grab my right hand. Despite the tape, she quickly saw that one of my knuckles was actually bleeding. "Dammit, John! What did I say about punching so hard?"

"Sorry," I spat, not really meaning it. Still I kept bouncing.

My personal trainer sighed. "Okay, do you want to go swimming or do you want to do the stairs again."

I hopped up and down and thought about it. "Swimming." Some part of me felt like I could release more tension out of my whole body that way. I could stroke as hard as I wanted without waiting for a damn stair machine to catch up to me. Besides the outdoor pool and jacuzzi in the backyard, which were for looking pretty and for warm days, we also had an indoor 25-yard pool for lap swimming and the occasional volleyball game.

"Well too bad, 'cause you're doing the fucking stairs," Rebecca glowered at me and rubbed her sore hands.

I felt a quick flash of anger at her, but obediently stomped over to the endless staircase and started the machine up myself.

When I'd been going for a couple of minutes, Rebecca came and folded her arms over the rail. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing. Business," I growled.

"Ah..." she nodded, as if understanding. "Well the next time you feel like punching something? Let me know and I'll let you wail on the bag instead of me, okay?"

I sighed. "I'm sorry, Rebecca. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know. We do a lot of things we don't mean to." She sighed and turned to rest her cheek on one hand. "Jeremy was the king of 'I didn't mean to'."

I looked over and saw the expression on her face. And now I felt three times as guilty for taking out some of my frustrations on her. "How are you doing, Rebecca?" I asked softly. It was easier to focus on what was bothering her than stressing about my own issues.

She exhaled again and then stood up straight, turning around and walking towards the windows while staring off at the ocean. "I'm okay. Just takes a while to get used to being alone again."

I kept stepping and waited patiently, both calming myself and giving Rebecca time to process.

Still looking out the window, she continued. "We were together for four years. Four years..." She turned and looked at me. "You've been with Taylor what? Two years?"

"A LONG time, off and on. But really together, together? Less than three."

Rebecca looked out the window again. "Do you know what it's like to have to get used to sleeping alone again? Jeremy was this big bear of a man. I never felt safer or more at peace than when he was cuddled up behind me. And now... it's just me."

"I've noticed you're spending a lot of time here, even when you're not working." In the past week alone, Rebecca had spent every day with us except last Tuesday, when she was working out another client.

Rebecca managed a wry smile. "Yeah. Actually, I spent 3 out of the last 4 nights here too."

"Keep this up and you won't even need an apartment."

Rebecca looked out the window. "Funny you mention that. My lease is up end of March. Jeremy was a good enough guy that he paid up half. But that apartment is just too expensive for me by myself. I don't even know what I'm going to do a few weeks from now. I've got to start searching for a new place."

I shrugged. "You can always crash here for as long as you like."

The pretty brunette spun and looked at me intently. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. It's not like we're short on space, Rebecca."

She started pacing, really thinking it over. "You mean it? I mean, I don't want to be a burden. I'm not sure I could really impose."

"Rebecca," I said firmly. "It's fine. If you're not comfortable, that's OK. But really, you're a friend now. And friends let friends crash on the couch when they need to."

She pouted for a moment. "You'd make me sleep on a couch?"

I grinned. "Maybe I'll just have Charlotte tie you to the rack."

Rebecca spanked my butt while I kept climbing. Then she smiled. "Thanks, John. Really, I think I will take you up on that."

"In a guest room," I added, just to be clear. "Besides, you've been keeping Taylor so much company the past few weeks, I think she might actually try gossiping with ME if you left. And that's NOT going to happen."

"Yeah, Taylor's just been such a good listener for me." A wry smile crossed Rebecca's face. "And without my Jeremy... well... your wife's really good with a strap-on, too."

I grinned salaciously at the thought. "I can see that. Sorry I haven't been able to keep up. I've just been so busy." The last few workouts we'd had together had not ended in sexual encounters as I'd hurried off to various meetings and other functions.

"No, no. You're under no obligations to me, John." Rebecca waved me off. But then she stopped pacing and looked at me hungrily. "Although... you think you can give me some real cock when this workout is done?"

I grinned and hit the emergency stop on the stepper. Hopping down onto the rubberized floor, I glanced at the clock and then grinned predatorily at Rebecca "We've got fifteen minutes left," I growled. "How about right now?"

Less than a minute later, Rebecca's sports bra and shorts were wadded up in a corner while she sat on an exercise ball and repeatedly inhaled my cock. My legs were a bit shaky after so much exercise. But my desire to stay upright and continue having my pecker blown vastly outweighed my desire to sit down.

"Gawd damn I've missed real cock," she gasped before returning her mouth to my shaft. I felt her wriggling and bouncing up and down with the spring- compression of the ball, and I already knew I was going to fuck her over it.

Sure enough, after a few minutes making sure my dick was rock hard, I bent Rebecca face-down over the exercise ball and plunged my cock into her from behind.

She howled in ecstasy and pushed her forward along the ball until she had to plant her palms on the floor to maintain her position. And as I pistoned in and out of her, her whole body would roll forward and then back with our fucking motions.

"Oh, gawd. Fuck me, John! Harder! Harder! Oh!"

Rebecca's asscheeks felt like stones in my hands. And then I walked my palms up her back, the friction enough to help me rock us back and forth while I impaled my personal trainer on my shaft over and again.

"Fuck! Fuck!"

It didn't take long to set her off in a quick orgasm. And with low grunts of exertion and forceful bucking of her ass back at me, Rebecca powered her way through her climax.

After she came, I flipped her over onto her back across the floor and then drove my prick back into her clenching pussy. Rebecca pulled her legs back, crossing her ankles behind my head while I folded her body in half. And then she wrapped her arms around my back, tugging so that I pumped into her harder and harder and harder.

"Ohhh! So good!" she wailed.

"I'm gonna cum!" I grunted.

"Yes!"

"I'm gonna cum in your mouth!"

"Yes! Yes!" Rebecca screamed and came again. Her internal spasms, vibrating against my embedded cock, finished me off and for a second, I didn't think I'd break free of her leg or hand grips before I spunked into her pussy.

But at the last second, I pulled free and cleared her snatch just as the first jet arced out and splattered across Rebecca's round silicone melons. Kneewalking forward over her body, the second shot formed a line of sperm from her forehead to chin, and then finally she managed to suck my head into her mouth so I could pump out the rest of my load into her mouth.

When we were done, I certainly had rubber-burn on my knees and Rebecca probably had it worse on her back. But for now, we were feeling nothing but pleasure.