 
The Billionaire's Blackmail Book 1

An Erotic Romance

By

Laila Cole

Mailing List: http://eepurl.com/bqLWpf

MsLailaCole@gmail.com

Copyright 2016 by Laila Cole

All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses or establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
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Chapter 1

Ever since Kindergarten I've outshined everyone in everything I've ever done. I'd outshined every other soccer player from AYSO all the way to my high school's State Finals, where I scored the game-winning goal. I'd outshined every student in my MBA program at Stanford University, and then again at Ignite Capital in New York City where I traded currency for three years before I made a difficult decision to leave the financial industry and pursue a career with the FBI. And I'd outshined every one once again at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia, where I was the top Cadet.

You can call me an overachiever if you want but most people just call me Claire. Claire Nichols. Whatever you do don't call me perfect. I'm not. Just ask my ex-boyfriend in New York City who preferred to call me bitch. When I fucked up, I fucked up big and he was one of them. It's a good thing my fuck ups are rare.

When I graduated Quantico one of my instructors asked me what I wanted to do with my career in the FBI, he told me that given my performance and experience prior to joining the FBI I could "write my own ticket." The truth was that I'd known all along what I wanted to do and did my best to succeed in the Academy so that I could make that dream a reality. I wanted to work in financial crimes, the white-collar division. I wanted to shackle men like Ernie Madeoff who ruined my parents and left them penniless and damn near homeless.

I got my wish.

Right after Academy graduation I received a transfer to the San Francisco Field Office, which was precisely 2,596 miles from my parents in Asheville, North Carolina, the last remaining people on Earth who cared about me.

I'd sacrificed everything to succeed. There were many times where I laid awake at night and asked myself if it was worth it. I could have moved back to North Carolina, met a man who wouldn't call me a bitch, and popped out a few kids, easy.

That would have made my parents happy but would have left me miserable. I was a climber. I liked to do things. I didn't want to change diapers, not that there is anything wrong with that.

As the tally stood I was 33 with no kids, no man, and no friends. Sure, I had some acquaintances from the academy but we were all moved to different field offices and would probably never speak again.

I sat at my workstation reading the Wall Street Journal and tapped my hot pink nails against my dull, grey desk. I was bored already and it hadn't even been a week. At least when I was trading my days were filled with constant excitement and stress. At the FBI I was trapped in the slow, unoiled machinations of an inefficient government. Rock on. At least I'd make a difference in the world if they ever put me to work, the operative word being "if."

My Supervisory Agent Harvey Westbrook leaned out of his office. "Special Agent Nichols, get in here. You're up."

My heart thumped. This was it. I'd finally caught a case.

I walked into Harvey's office with a sense of purpose and he closed the door behind me. I swear this man wore the same navy blue suit and light blue tie every damn day of his life, even on the weekends, but he was good people. He was old, wrinkled, and his head was full of fuzzy gray hair. It couldn't have been too much longer before he was out the door for good on fat, fully earned pension.

He smiled at me as I took a seat. "You've been here for a week. How is it so far?"

"It's great. Everyone's really nice. The coffee's good." I wasn't yet ready to tell him I was already bored out of my mind.

He laughed. "That sounds exciting."

"Yea, it really is. It's just all so new and I'm getting used to it."

"Don't bullshit a bullshitter. That's the third color of paint on your nails in as many days. I know you're bored." He slid a manila folder across his desk toward me.

"What's this?"

"A new case. Your case. I've assigned you to it given your impeccable resume and recommendations from Quantico."

I smiled. "Harvey, tell me I landed something good."

He chuckled a bit. "You didn't just land something good. You landed something great. It'll be a career maker if you can see it to fruition."

Of course I could. I was Claire-fucking-Nichols. That's what I did. I opened the manila folder and stared a packet of paper clipped documents. "Talk me through it, Harvey."

"Sure thing. Have you ever heard of a man named Barrett Black? He runs Black Star Financial, one of the largest hedge funds in the United States."

My eyes snapped open. "I know him. I've been up against his traders in the currency markets. What's his net worth now, $12 billion dollars?"

"Close but not quite. The FBI's last estimate calculates his net worth to be north of $14 billion and climbing."

The rich get richer. "Jesus. What is he suspected of doing?"

"All the information about the case is in that folder so we can start at the top. SEC analysts have noticed peculiar call option trading patterns on Black Star's account. Take a look at the charts on pages two and three and note the spikes in call option volume."

On the chart in the file a thin blue line denoting call option volume spiked at random intervals, though the spikes averaged about once every two to three months. "I see it. He could be hedging his short positions. We hedged all the time at Ignite Capital to protect against downside risk."

Harvey laughed. "Not like this. Flip to the next page."

On the next page was a spreadsheet showing what ticker symbols made up the large spikes in call option volume. "So he's betting on big names. What makes that a crime?"

"If you notice those ticker symbols he was betting on all had large acquisitions announced no more than two months after the trades were placed, which implies he had insider knowledge. What's driving me crazy is that he knows we'd be looking. Barrett Black is anything but dumb."

Barrett was buying deep out of the money call options and cashing in big time when the stocks jumped up in price after their acquisitions were announced. A big time no-no if he had advanced knowledge and a clear signal he was up to no good. "This is damning. What does the SEC need the FBI for? Can't they pursue insider trading charges based on this evidence alone?"

"Sure, they could, but insider trading activity like this suggests a conspiracy. Remember too, most of these insider trading cases end up in large settlements and no one does time. Soon enough these assholes are back in the market doing the same damn thing and fucking over John and Jane Doe with impunity."

"You don't have to tell me how that goes. My parents were ruined by Ernie Madeoff."

"I know and I'm sorry about that. I've done my homework on you. My source at the SEC believes there are corrupt government officials somehow involved in this scheme that are protecting Black Star Financial and somehow profiting from the deals. That's where we come in to investigate. All of this information is compartmentalized within this department. We can't let word of this investigation get out or the whole thing will come apart."

This seemed like a clear-cut case to me. "Can't they track down which officials are in his funds? That should be easy."

Harvey smiled. "That's the rub. Almost every single government official is already invested with him. Hell, even I've got money parked in Black Star and I need to get clearance to pull it out given the now existing conflict of interest."

I was still a bit shocked. Black Star Financial wasn't just the largest hedge fund in the United States it was also the most prestigious. Barrett Black was rumored to be an all around generous man supporting multiple cancer, homelessness, and veteran's charities. He was also an activist investor, one who threw his money at companies gone wrong in the hopes to change them or bankrupt them.

Barrett Black wasn't a criminal. Barrett Black was an American capitalist and a pillar of his community. I was almost certain there was an explanation but then again I had to keep an open mind and maintain my objectivity, which was already proving more difficult than I'd imagined. The power of perception is real.

"Where do I come in, Harvey?"

"You are going undercover in Black Star Financial's San Francisco office. We need you to interview, get hired, and learn everything you can about the inner workings of Black Star. Eventually we need you in Barrett's inner circle where you will gather information and report back to me. This is a long-term investigation that we anticipate will last upwards of two years. Can you handle that?"

My face was tense. "Oh, I can handle it. The hardest part will be getting in. He hand picks the best talent in the world to work at his fund."

"I know." He slid a resume toward me with the name Claire Nicholson on it.

My heart skipped a beat. "What's this?"

"This is your new identity and the resume you'll be talking over with Barrett Black in your interview this Friday for his now open Portfolio Manager position. You'll receive a driver's license, social security card, and other credentials soon."

My jaw dropped.

"Special Agent Nichols, are you ok?"

"Yea. I am. I'm just wondering... how solid is this identity? A man like Barrett Black has connections to information most people don't."

"The FBI has taken the time to craft this identify precisely for this sting. Even if his best background investigators go digging they won't find a thing. All of your background detail has been planted and backdated and is impossible to disprove."

"What about the salary? That position likely pays north of $750,000 a year not including the bonus, which would be substantial and could potentially be in the millions."

"The salary will be forfeited to the FBI at every pay period."

Bummer. I scanned the resume. It showed that I went to Wharton Business School. I looked back up at Harvey. "What was wrong with Stanford?"

Harvey laughed at me. "Sorry, recent rankings put Wharton above Stanford and you need every bit of help you can get."

"After Wharton I'd apparently hopped around through investment banks with progressive work experience. I'd started as a lowly analyst and worked my way up to Managing Director within eight years instead of the usual fifteen. I was a superstar. And I liked the way it felt.

Harvey looked me in the eyes. "What do you think?"

I smiled. "Wow. That's what I think. Thank you for the opportunity."

"You earned it. The Bureau feels that with your education, industry experience, and tactical training in the field you are going to nail this."

I took a deep breath. "Where is the interview?"

"It's at the Arcoroc in Downtown San Francisco. I guess it's some fancy French restaurant that I can't afford on a government salary."

"I won't let you down, Harvey. I'll nail this."

"I know you will. The entire country is counting on it."
Chapter 2

The Arcoroc was arguably the nicest, most expensive restaurant in San Francisco and I was eager to have dinner there with Barrett Black in the flesh.

I wasn't sure what strings the FBI pulled to make this interview happen, I just knew that they did. And I wasn't going to ask questions. I was going to do my job and excel at doing so no matter what.

Barrett and Black Star Financial were notorious for brutal interviews and a hardcore, stress filled work environment that was second to none and yet his desk was probably covered in resumes. He was the type that insisted on interviewing every candidate for every role. No one entered Black Star Financial without his stamp of approval, and I was eager to get mine because what everyone said was true: if you worked for Barrett Black you were set for life, even if it was just for a few years. He'd make you rich. That's the kind of power and influence this man had. It was unlimited.

I put on my most professional navy blue pantsuit, which went clear down to my knees. I'd curled the ends of my flowing blonde hair and dusted my face with make up. I looked good but most importantly I looked right for the role of Portfolio Manager.

The FBI had outfitted me with a pen that I placed in my padfolio that they would use to listen in on our conversation and would be in a restaurant supply van at the side of the restaurant. I didn't like the idea of them listening to me. It made me nervous. Self-conscious even but it was what it was. It was the job.

I exited my Uber with my leather padfolio in one hand and my navy blue Coach purse in the other. I was ready to nail this thing. There was no doubt about it. I was Claire-fucking-Nicholson.

I walked into the Arcoroc Restaurant with nothing but the most beaming confidence and approached the Maître'd. He was a black, flamboyantly gay man that looked up at me annoyed. "Ugh. Another one?"

"Another what? I'm here for Black Star Financial. I was told to ask for them at the front."

He snapped his head back up. "Have a seat sweetheart. It's almost your turn."

I stood there perplexed. "What do you mean my turn?"

"Jesus Christ lady he's been interviewing here for the last four hours. Don't think your special or nothing."

Whoa. Barrett was already one step ahead of me. I had no idea there were going to be others. To think that I'd felt special even a few moments ago made me laugh.

I studied my fake resume like I'd never studied anything before and was startled out of my concentration. "Miss?"

"Yes?" I looked up to find a woman in a red pantsuit with blonde hair, a pulled back face, and over-plumped lips. A few more surgeries and lip injections and she'd look like the infamous cat lady.

"Hi, are you Claire Nicholson?"

I spoke confidently. "Yes. That's me." It was my turn and my heart began to pound.

"I'm sorry to inform you that Mr. Black has already made a commitment to hire someone for the Portfolio Manager position. We will not be needing to interview you today."

"What?" My eyelids were practically glued to the top my forehead.

"You heard me right. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

Holy shit I was pissed off, though I shoved it all down and tried to concentrate.

A moment later a small Asian man in a cheap gray suit, with square rimmed glasses, and a wicked smile walked right passed me. He winked at me on his way out of the restaurant. I should have known it wouldn't be this easy.

I stood and faced the Lady In Red. "I came here for an interview and I'm not leaving until I have one."

She sighed and dismissed me with a wave of her hand. "I told you already. The position has been filled and it's time for you to leave. Mr. Black is not interviewing any more candidates for the Portfolio Manager position."

Blood raced to my extremities and my fingers and toes tingled. "How rude of you to put someone out like this. I had other things I could have been doing today. Go back there and tell Mr. Black that I came here for an interview and I'm not leaving until I get one."

The Maître'd looked up at me. "Jesus Christ, lady, at least say please!" He then turned to the Lady In Red. "I can kick her ass out if you want. It will just take one quick call to security."

She stared me down and I stared right back. I wasn't capitulating. Not to her. Not to the Maître'd. And not to Mr. Barrett Black.

Finally the woman caved. "Wait just a moment and I'll ask him."

She walked away and the Maître'd looked at me. "Damn, girl. What's a matter you can't take no for an answer?"

I ignored him and sat back down. I waited another ten minutes before the Lady In Red returned. "I see you're still here."

"Obviously. And just like I said before I'm not leaving until I get my interview. Tell him that."

She laughed, shook her head, and walked away. What a bitch.

I could have just left, called it a day, and informed Harvey about what happened but that just didn't function with me. I wasn't use to failing, and I certainly wasn't use to failing when I hadn't even been given a chance to try.

I waited another fifty-five minutes. Patrons came in and out. My leather padfolio was covered in sweat from my hands and my legs shook up and down with nervous tension. Gone was my overconfidence, it had now been replaced by the fear of failing.

The Lady In Red came back again. "He'll see you now. Please follow me."

Thank God for small victories. Now I needed a big one.

I passed the Maître'd who looked at me as I went by. "Well congratulations Miss persistent." I wanted to smack the attitude right off his lips.

I refused to say a word in return and followed the Lady In Red passed a few tables filled with overstuffed patrons toward one where Barrett Black sat in all his gilded glory. He was glued to his cell phone with a glass of whisky in his hand.

I approached him. He looked up at me annoyed and waved his hand for me to sit.

As I sat I stared into his eyes, he was far more attractive and intimidating in person than he was on TV. He had black, slicked back hair, an expensive blue suit with a light blue undershirt and yellow tie, and a watch that was studded with diamonds.

This guy could see right through anyone and soon I feared he'd see right through me.

He hung up his phone and reached across the table to shake my hand. "I'm Barrett Black but you already knew that."

I gripped his hand and shook it firmly. "And I'm Claire Nicholson... but you already knew that too. I hope."

He picked up my resume from the pile of others sitting next to him and gave it a once over. "So my assistant tells me you're persistent."

"I am."

He looked me right in the eyes. "Why?"

Damn he was sexy, sexy enough to make me lose my concentration as I struggled to find the right words to respond with. "Because I know that I can provide value to your firm, just like I have to every other firm on my resume."

He straight up laughed at me like I'd told him a joke. "Every person I've ever interviewed says that exact same party-line bullshit. I'm going to need more than that for this interview to continue passed the next thirty seconds. Here I thought you waited all this time to tell me something interesting."

I started to panic. I could see Harvey's face cringing as he regretted throwing a rookie at this case. I could save myself. I had time. "I'm a hard work—"

He cut me off. "So is everyone else I interview. Twenty seconds."

I collated and organized all the FBI bullshit from my resume in my mind and blurted it out. "I made Managing Director at J.P. Sachs in eight years instead of fifteen, and I managed a portfolio of $2 billion dollars worth of securities with an average return of 6.7% greater than the returns of the S&P 500 in the same period. You should hire me so I can do the same for you."

He started getting frustrated and looked at his diamond-encrusted watch. "That just cost you ten seconds you're not going to get back. Ten more remain and you still haven't told me what I want to hear."

I grew desperate. "I'll do whatever it takes to succeed! At all costs. At all times."

He smiled at me. "That's more like it. Are you a fighter?"

I nodded. "I am. I've been fighting my whole life."

"Fighting what?"

I paused for a moment. "Myself."

"Why?"

"Because I'm obsessed. I'm obsessed with getting better, with growing in my career." At this fast pace I was pretty much forced to blurt out the truth. I couldn't lie even if I wanted to. Barrett Black was sexy, dominant, beyond intense, and just like I expected, he could see right through my flesh and into my soul. There was an iota of weakness in me somewhere that he'd spotted and he was picking at it like a scab.

He sipped his whisky and stared at me. "Let me tell you something. I came from nothing. I literally came from the streets, from junkie, loser parents who couldn't even keep a roof over my head. I see all you types coming into my office with your fancy leather padfolios, your fancy suits, your fancy educations, your fancy experience, and I don't give a shit about any of it. None of it matters to me. The only fucking thing I care about is what you're willing to do to succeed. Anyone with any background can trade securities. It's not about what you do it's about how you do it. It's about how far you'll go not how hard you'll work. Does that make sense to you?"

My spider senses, among other things, were already starting to tingle. The way he talked to me... no one had ever talked to me like that before. "It does. It's the same reason I pushed and waited for over an hour for an interview with you. I wasn't going to give up until I met you. That's just for starters. My entire career has been about how far I'll go."

He laughed at me like I was missing something. "What if I told you that I made the other candidates wait as well? That I did so just to see how you would react in the face of adversity and pressure, and when getting fucked when you didn't expect it."

Our eyes caught one another's. "I thrive under pressure. I need it. It's why I'm here in the first place. Whatever you throw at me I can handle. I don't care what it is."

He smirked and sipped his whisky. "You won't thrive under the pressure I'm going to give you. I can guarantee you that. The pressure's been known to make people... explode. Quickly. They leave with tears in their eyes because they couldn't handle it."

"Those people aren't me. You'll find that out soon enough." I moved in my seat a bit and realized my pussy was wet. I couldn't recall the last time it had been wet outside of a shower, and I'd pretty much forgotten that was one of my pussy's main functions. I immediately became even more self-conscious and I knew he could sense it. Hell, he could probably smell it.

"Tell me, Miss Nicholson. Do you know about the position you're interviewing for?"

"Yes. You're looking for a Portfolio Manager to handle a multibillion dollar portfolio."

"Can you be any vaguer? What portfolio? If you've done your homework on my firm and me you should know, so tell me."

I knew Barrett Black, or at least I thought I did. I'd done my homework and now it was time for the pop quiz. "Your last 13F filing showed that you were heavy into industrials, defense, rare-earth industries, and technology. You also have a speculative portfolio, which is the portfolio you're hiring for given the recent departure of its manager, Jim Guzman, from your firm."

He handed me a bottle of whisky. "Have a drink. That's a $1,200 dollar bottle of scotch."

I stared at the bottle and glass not sure what to do. "It's ok. Thanks for the offer, but I want to stay sober."

He opened the bottle and poured me a glass of whisky. "I don't trust someone that doesn't drink. Drink it."

I thought he was testing my mettle. "I drink in the right occasions. You can be sure about that. This isn't the right occasion."

He poured himself another glass of whisky and knocked it back. "Good girl." He stared at me for a moment, never flinching from my eyes. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. I just knew that whatever was coming out of his mouth next was important. "When can you start?"

I was shocked. "Well, I'll need to give the standard two weeks to my current employer, so let's say three Monday's from now."

He shook his head. "Not even close."

I panicked. "Ok. I can start Monday."

He shook his head again. "Close but still wrong."

"Ok... I can start now."

He smiled. "That's more like it. Now drink that whisky before I do. You're my new Portfolio Manager, effective immediately."

"Shouldn't we discuss salary?"

He shrugged. "Why? It will be at least double what you were making at J.P Sachs. I don't negotiate salary. I pay my people well so it's never an issue and they can concentrate on doing what I hired them to do."

For a moment I wished I was really Claire Nicholson. "That's generous."

"It's necessary, like I told you this job is going to be... intense. Now drink that whisky you're going to need it."

I knocked the drink back. I was getting nervous, and not the good kind of nervous, the scared kind. "What about the other guy?"

"What about him? I've already forgotten his name."

I stood up to shake his hand figuring that the interview was through. "Thank you."

He looked at me confused. "I didn't excuse you. Sit down, there's business to discuss."

My entire body flushed with sweat. "Ok. What's up?"

"Tomorrow night there's going to a party on my yacht. I'll need you there by the time it starts, which is 8:00 PM. And don't make any plans for later that evening either. You need to stay through to the end, and it doesn't end until the last client leaves. I'll also need you to wear something provocative but not slutty. You'll need to make a good first impression on the clients and the other portfolio managers that will be in attendance."

I nodded. "Ok. I can do that."

"Don't say that again. I'm telling you to because I know you can do it and that you will. There's no need to confirm what I already know."

I nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"That's more like it. When you get to the marina there will be some stanchions at the end of Slip 32. Follow them toward the end where a man in a boat will be waiting to ferry you to my yacht. And I'm warning you now...if you're even a second late that night will be the last you see of Black Star Financial."

I nodded. "Understood."

He reached out to shake my hand. "Congratulations. Now leave. I have a conference call starting in three minutes."

I stood up and scooted my ass out of the Arcoroc just as fast as I could go. I was glistening with sweat and my heart was pounding. There was no doubt about it. Barrett Black was the most devilishly handsome, hardcore person I'd ever met, and he was going to challenge me right up until the point I had him in shackles.

Chapter 3

My Uber dropped me off at the marina at 7:30 PM sharp. I figured that thirty minutes was more than enough time to get to the slip and take the ferry to the yacht.

I was wearing a little black dress that stopped about six inches above my knees and showed off my sexy, tone legs. My feet were in a pair of three-inch black heels that made my ass look like two bowling balls jockeying for position when I walked. My breasts were bursting out of the top of my dress just enough so that you couldn't call me a slut. In short, I was just like Barrett wanted me to be and it felt damn good too. I could never show my body off like this at the FBI.

Hanging over my shoulder was a shiny, black Dolce & Gabbana purse. Inside it were the normal things you'd expect to find in a woman's purse. Things like makeup, a wallet, and even a pack of gum but there was also something Harvey had given me, which looked like a tube of lipstick. Inside it was a transmitter that used undetectable microwave frequencies to transmit back to the FBI team supporting my operation.

I hated the idea of taking a bug on board his yacht or even to work. He should have trusted me enough to do my job, but I was green. Neon green to be exact and I could understand his hesitations. Harvey insisted the bug was undetectable to even the most advanced bug scanners on the market but what about to the new ones that billionaires like Barrett Black's security detail were certain to have? That thought alone made my heart race.

I walked to the end of Slip 32 and found the stanchions that Barrett had mentioned in our interview. At the end of the stanchions was a man in a black suit and bow tie who smiled at me as I approached. "Hi, are heading to Barrett Black's yacht?" I said.

"I most certainly am, and you are?"

"My name is Claire Nicholson. I'm one of his Portfolio Managers, I was just hired."

He pulled a clipboard off the wood planks of the slip and scanned a white paper for my name. "There you are. Claire Nicholson, it's nice to meet you. My name is Jackson Brooks. You're cutting it a bit close aren't you?"

"What do you mean? Barrett told me to be on the boat at 8:00 PM."

He laughed. "When Barrett says 8:00 PM he means 7:45 PM. You'll learn just like everyone else. You'll learn or you'll be gone."

My pulse quickened and I looked at the thin gold watch on my wrist. It was 7:40 PM. That didn't leave us much time to get from the marina to the yacht, which I couldn't even see.

Jackson helped me onto the boat and started the engine, which bubbled and gurgled under the sloshing water that slapped against its side. Before I knew it he was easing on the throttle and we were off.

First he drove slowly through the marina to avoid making a wake, and shortly after that he opened the throttle wide. The burst of acceleration was so fast it pinned me to the back seat of the boat.

As we moved out of the marina Barrett's massive, multi-million dollar yacht came into view. It had to have been at least 150 feet long. Only then, as I laid eyes on that beautiful boat did I realize just how wealthy he was, and what that wealth translated to in real life. Sure you see things on TV but when they're right up in your face it's a whole different ballgame.

The yacht was three stories high and on the very top was a black helicopter. The second story contained a walkway and a railing just in front of the glass that separated the inside from the outside and stretched all the way around the boat.

I couldn't wait to step foot on it but I was scared too.

As we blitzed across the ocean the cold air from San Francisco Bay bit at my skin. I was an idiot for not wearing a jacket.

Jackson hit a small swell too fast and the boat bounced up and landed hard. A spray of cool salt water misted my skin and I could taste it on my lips. I looked down at my dress, fearing that I was wet. I wasn't wet, thankfully, but my nipples were as hard as rocks and stabbing through my bra.

"Hold on tight!" He hit another swell the sent the cold water of the bay spitting at me face. My hair was frazzled and fucked. Damn.

Jackson finally slowed down and pulled up to the back of the boat, which was at water level to help load people on. "Sorry about the chop. I just wanted to make sure you were here on time."

"Thanks, Jackson." I checked my watch. It was 7:53 PM.

Since we were in the back I couldn't see who was on board. Jackson helped me on to the yacht and a black security guard in an all black suit approached me. "I'll take her from here, Jax." He grabbed the meat of my arm and walked me toward the bottom of a staircase. "What's your name, Miss?"

"I'm Claire Nicholson, the newest Portfolio Manager for Black Star Financial."

He pulled out a tablet computer and scanned through it. "I've got you here on the list but before we can let you in I need to scan you. Please stand with your arms out and your legs open."

My heart was pounding so hard I was certain he could hear it.

I dropped my purse to the ground and did as he asked. He stared at my nipples as he waved the wand up the sides of my body, under my arms, and up the inside of my legs, where I swear he tried to look up my skirt. "You're clean. Let me see your purse."

I picked it up from the ground and handed it to him. He waved the wand over it and my worst fears were realized as it started beeping. He looked me in the eyes. "Is there something you need to disclose?"

I played dumb. "No, of course not. I'm not sure what's causing that."

He ran his hands through my purse. "Hold on just a second." He called in to his walkie-talkie. "Boss, I need you down here. I've got something."

Thank god I was wearing black, which hid the effects of my profuse nervous sweating.

Another larger black man walked down the steps of the yacht toward us. "What is it?"

"Her purse is setting this thing off. I need you to double check it for me."

The second man dug his hands through my purse and didn't look impressed. He pulled out my cell phone and waved the wand over it, it started beeping. "You've got the sensitivity on this thing too high. That's all. Don't do it again."

He placed my phone back into my purse and handed it to me. "Welcome to the Black Star Miss Nicholson, enjoy your evening." He pulled the thick rope from between two stanchions and I took a deep breath and walked up the stairs. It was now or never. I had to perform.

As soon as I emerged from the first floor to the second Barrett was on my ass. He approached me and looked at his watch, the diamonds on it shimmered in the sunset. "It's 7:59 PM. You're late."

He'd told me 8:00 PM and I was more than a little annoyed. I looked at the watch on my wrist. "I beg to differ. My watch says 7:57 PM."

He stared right into my eyes. "If you're on time your late. Do you understand?"

"I do."

Barrett scanned my body up and down. My nipples were still hard as rocks and I was embarrassed. "Turn around for me."

I did as he asked and he checked out my ass. I turned back around. "Well?"

He smiled. "I need you to meet a few people. I think they're going to like you."

I was starting to feel like Barrett Black's whore as he placed his hand on the small of my back and led me down a walkway that stretched around the yacht. There were hand railings next to me, and beyond that a beautiful sunset that sank below the horizon.

There were two Suits in front of me wearing ten-gallon hats laughing and talking. They certainly looked like important people to me. Barrett approached them and they turned toward me with drunken smiles. "Claire I'd like you to meet State Senator Davis Jones from Texas, and United States Senator Chris Layfield from Colorado."

I smiled and shook each of their hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Senator Jones laughed a bit. "I swear to God you look just like my ex-wife!"

I laughed but what an asshole comment to make. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Hell no. She's smokin' hot just like you."

Senator Layfield started laughing and tipped his hat at me. "It's a pleasure to meet you too." He all but winked. What a couple of creeps.

Barrett placed his hand at the small of my back again and whispered in my ear. His warm breath made me shiver. "Those guys are assholes but they're big time money and heavily invested in my fund so I deal with them. Let's go meet your colleagues."

I smiled and looked back at Barrett. "I'm glad it wasn't just me. Those guys gave me the creeps."

He laughed. "Good."

Barrett opened a door that led inside the yacht where three men and one woman stood by the bar sipping drinks. "Claire I'd like you to meet Michelle Toussaint, Brian Woo, Arthur Wileman, and Lamont Smith, your new colleagues."

I shook all their hands one by one and wondered if these people were making the crazy options trades on Barrett's behalf or if Barrett was doing it himself.

Michelle gave me a nasty stare. "You're going to manage the speculative portfolio?"

"Yea, I am. And I'm going to kill it too."

She laughed, obviously threatened by another woman in her midst. "Good luck with that. It's chewed through more souls than the devil himself."

"Good thing I don't have one then, huh?"

The men started laughing as Michelle knocked back her drink and stormed off. What a jealous bitch. It was a good thing I was used to women like her.

Barrett smiled at me and looked at his men. "That's the kind of shit I'm talking about right there. Fearless. Strong. Shit, she's got more balls than the three of you combined."

They all shut up and nodded. Barrett placed his hand on the small of my back again, this time with even more pressure. I imagined him sliding his hand down my ass and grabbing it. I couldn't control it. My thoughts were running wild. "There's one more person I want you to meet. He is my largest investor. My father and his father go way back to a time long gone but not forgotten."

Barrett gently guided me out of the door and onto the deck where another man in a black cowboy hat with his wife stood staring at the ocean.

Barrett approached him and he turned around. My god was he sexy. "Claire, I'd like you to meet Damien Wesley and his wife Laura Daniels from Wyoming."

He reached out to shake my hand and he did so firmly. "Hello, Claire. It's nice to meet you."

His wife snuck her hand out toward mine and shook it. "The same goes for me. I'm Laura Daniels. It's a pleasure."

Damien looked at Barrett. "She's going to be running the spec trades?"

"You're damn straight. We're looking to pump those returns up big time, and she's the one to do it."

"What about the other guy... Jim."

Barrett held his head high. "The other guy... let's not talk about the other guy. He was a mistake."

Damien laughed. "Yes. He was. He underperformed the market by almost 20% and cost me a fortune." He then pulled a vial of cocaine out of his suit pocket and looked at Barrett. "Let's celebrate to new beginnings. For old time's sake."

Barrett cracked a smile and looked at me. "Why the hell not."

Damien used a tiny metal spoon, scooped out a mound of coke, and placed it against Barrett's nose. He snorted it back quickly and pinched his nostrils. "Damn that's some good shit."

"It's 100% pure. I only snort the best." Damien dug into his vial, pulled out another tiny mound of coke and smiled at me. "You're up hot-shot. Tonight's your night."

I froze. I couldn't break the law. I wouldn't break the law.

I hadn't snorted coke since I'd worked at Ignite Capital and pulled 24 hours shifts to stay up all night trading currency. I'd forgotten how prevalent it was in the financial industry and just how weak I was in its presence. Cocaine made me feel like a better person. It made me feel more capable and stronger than I actually was. It made me feel like I could do anything in the world, and those feelings were dangerous to a woman with a personality like mine. They were... addicting. "Thanks anyway Damien, but I'll pass."

Barrett smiled. "Go for it. It's ok. I won't blow the whistle on you. You've done it before, right?"

Laura smiled. "It won't last too long. You'll like it. Trust me."

Oh I was damn certain I'd like it. That fact was already well established. I just didn't like who it made me become. Once that genie was out of my bottle it was hard to put back in. And besides, the FBI training was expressly against it.

"Go on," Damien said. "It won't hurt you. It's all natural."

"It's ok. I'll pass. Final answer."

Barrett insisted, his eyes were wide and his pupil's dilated. "I said to snort it and you're going to snort it."

There was no way out. I was undercover and I had to act the part or I would look suspicious, or at least that's what I told myself. I leaned in, snorted it back, and enjoyed the ride way, way too much.
Chapter 4

It was almost midnight and I'd bumped off of Damien's vile at least five more times since the first. Clients had come and clients had gone and I hadn't noticed anything unusual or out of place. To me this was just another party in the crazy world of finance only it was taking place on a yacht instead of a rooftop bar in New York City. Same shit different day.

I was having an amazing time. Perhaps too amazing considering the amount of nose candy I'd sucked up my nostrils as an Agent of the law. I missed this world. I missed the sheer insanity of it.

The moon was high in the sky and lit the white caps on the ocean as I stood at the edge of the yacht and let the cool wind from the night rush over my skin. That plus the cocaine was a tough combo to beat. I felt amazing. I felt like I could jump off this boat and fly.

All of the clients except for Damien were gone, and he was getting ready to leave. Barrett and Damien had wandered up to the top floor while they reminisced about old times as Damien prepared to fly his helicopter off the boat.

The government officials had left much earlier in the night. They'd hopped on the ferry right about the time they realized Barrett was higher than a Boeing 747. That made me think they weren't up to anything nefarious but who knew. I'd let Harvey dig into their personal lives and see if anything came up, so long as he didn't dig into mine. My gut instinct told me that they were creeps not criminals, unfortunately.

When I got a little too cold I wandered back to the bar and found Michelle alone, twirling her finger around the rim of her martini glass. Even the bartender was gone. I tried to be cool with her and walked around the bar as if to serve her. "Can I pour you another?"

"No." She didn't even look up at me she just continued staring at her drink.

I just couldn't put my finger on what this bitch's problem was. "This was a fun party, huh? I really think I'm going to like it at Black Star. Sorry if you thought I was being a bitch earlier, it was just a joke to break the ice. I'm looking forward to working with you." Gag. I hated platitudes but I didn't see anyway around them with her.

She finally looked up at me with glazed over eyes. She was fucking thrashed. "I wish I could say the same to you."

I stood back defensive. "Excuse you?" She was going to a problem and I hoped she was involved in the insider trading scheme so I could bust her ass to prison.

"You heard me just right. You know...you're new and sooner or later he's going to get tired of you and that will be that."

All of a sudden everything made sense. She'd fucked the boss and now she was jaded. Poor thing. "I guess I'm different than you considering the fact that I didn't come here to fuck my boss and get ahead. I came here to trade on the credit that I've earned."

She sipped her martini. "What a load of shit. Did you suck his cock on the way in or are you saving that for tonight?"

The anger flowing through me was hard to control, and with the cocaine still in my system I had to step back and take a deep breath or I was going to lose it completely. "Listen up, Bitch. I don't know you, or what your background is, but your little vendetta against me needs to stop. I didn't do anything to you."

"Maybe not yet. Something tells me that's about to change." She downed the rest of her martini.

"Would you like another?" I said, in my politest most smart-ass voice.

She snapped. "No, thanks. I'll pass."

I looked around the bar. "Where are the rest of the PM's?"

She grumbled. "They went home."

"Why? Did you scare them off with your attitude?" I poured myself a glass of whisky and knocked it back. If she was going to talk shit to me then I was going to talk it right back.

She sighed. "No, I respect them. They've earned their titles with hard work at the firm."

The helicopter on the roof started up and the glasses in the bar began shaking. Barrett walked back in a moment later. "I trust you two are warming up to one another?"

Michelle laughed and stared at Barrett like she wanted to fuck him. "Yes, for sure. I'm looking forward to the future. Can't you tell?"

Barrett looked pissed. He walked up to Michelle, grabbed her glass by the stem, and took it away from her. "By the time the markets open on Monday you had better figure out an attitude change. I'm not paying you damn near $3 million dollars a year to deal with your petty bullshit. Do you understand me?"

She quieted down fast. "Yes. I do."

"Good. Why don't you go home, dry out, and call me in the morning. I have some trades that we need to discuss before the markets open."

She nodded, ignored me, and walked away toward the small ferryboat, which was waiting to take her to the marina.

Barrett walked up beside me. "I'm apologizing for her because she might not. She feels that she deserved the speculative portfolio and now that you have it she's hurt. She'll get over it and eventually. With your experience you'll prove that it belonged to you to begin with but just like anything else in life that's going to take time. I need to know that it won't distract you."

I nodded. "I totally understand. To be honest I expected some heat. I'm ok. I can handle it."

He placed his hand on the small of my back again and rubbed it gently. "I'm warning you now. I'm going to eventually give you something so hard and so big you won't be able to handle it and it will break you."

My heart started beating fast. "I can take anything you throw at me."

He laughed. "I won't be throwing it, that's for sure."

He was smirking as he pulled Damien's vial of cocaine from his jacket. "A parting gift from Damien and his wife."

"How nice of them." I wasn't sure I could handle anymore nose candy. The more I snorted the poorer my decisions became, like getting into a fight with Michelle for no good reason other than being Type-A. Staying longer would be the doom of me. "It's getting kind of late. I think I should head back to shore."

He looked at me like I was crazy. "Late? It's midnight and we still have plenty of this left. You're not going anywhere. If I'm going to trade with you and trust you with my money and my clients' money believe me, I'm going to get to know you any way possible as fast as possible."

He walked over to his leather couch and I followed him but left my purse on the bar. Harvey didn't need to hear what was going to happen next.

He collapsed into his couch, opened up the vial of cocaine, and poured it on a glass coffee table in front him. He then opened up his wallet and pulled one $100 dollar bill out along with his Titanium credit card, which he used to make four medium-sized lines of blow.

I'd never snorted that much cocaine before. It was always just small bumps here and there. This was the big league. Christ, if Harvey knew what I was up to right now I'd loose my badge, even though I felt it was completely necessary to play the role and I thought I could handle it.

Barrett rolled up the bill and handed it to me. "Suck one of those puppies up."

I took a deep breath and squeezed my nostrils to clear them out. I placed the bill against a line of coke and snorted the entire thing back. I skyrocketed up to the euphoria I knew and accelerated it right passed it into the unknown.

Barrett pointed to the next line. "One more."

My eyes snapped open. "Are you serious?"

"What do you think?"

I hadn't even plateaued from the first line and went for the second, snorting it all back. It stung like a bitch but was worth it. It was like being shot of out a fucking canon into a world of pleasure. I'd broken through some imaginary barrier and everything was just fucking velvet.

If I thought I'd felt good on cocaine before I don't know what this was. I was invincible. I could do anything and be anyone. I smacked my hands together. "Hot damn!" The cocaine began to drip down my throat and numb it.

I stared at Barrett like he was some kind of God. My God. My God in this realm of pleasure.

Any man that looked as good as him and could make me feel like I did was dangerous.

He grabbed the bill and snorted one line back, and then the last one like a god damn vacuum. He took a deep breath and looked over at me with his eyes peeled open. "Jesus Christ I feel good!"

"Are your parties at Black Star always this crazy?"

"No. Well, it depends on your definition of crazy. I want to show you something." He stood and held his hand out toward mine. Like a damn fool I grabbed it as the velvet cocaine pleasure strangled me in its grasp.

Left of the bar was another stairwell that went down one floor and we stepped down it. "What's down here?"

"Relax."

"I just snorted two fat lines of coke. I can't relax."

He laughed and opened the door to a bedroom furnished nicer than a five star hotel. "This is where you'll be staying tonight." His eyes were intense as they stared in mine.

This had gone too far. I was supposed to catch Barrett Black doing something illegal, not do something illegal with him and fuck him in the process. "I can't stay here. I need to catch the ferryboat back to shore."

"That's not possible. Michelle took the last boat back and I sent Jackson home for the night."

"Then call him back."

"No."

"If I'm staying here then where are you staying?" If he thought I was going to fuck him he was crazier than me for doing all this cocaine while undercover.

"Nearby."

"Nearby where?"

He ignored me. "Tell me, when you were trading at J.P. Sachs were you always on top?"

"Always. No one had better returns than me."

He squeezed my hand. "And how did that make you feel?"

"Amazing."

"Better than this cocaine?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Yes. That was real. This is just some chemical."

He closed the distance between us. "Do you think you're going to be on top at Black Star?"

My heart was pounding. "Of course."

Barrett closed the door behind us and locked it. "I beg to differ."
Chapter 5

Barrett leaned in to kiss me and I pulled away. "I can't do this. Maybe I've made a mistake coming to work for you."

He stepped back. "Maybe you have. Black Star Financial isn't for everyone. That would be a shame, though, given that you haven't even begun to tread water. Hell, you're not even in the water."

He leaned in to kiss me again. My will continued to decay.

"Do you sleep with every woman you hire, or just Michelle? She's pretty jaded, and a woman that jaded gets there only one way."

Barrett sighed and pulled back. "We were together. She wanted to get married. I wanted a prenup. You can do the math from there. That was a year ago. It's not my fault she can't move on."

"I guess you're a tough act to follow."

He smiled. "I'm impossible to follow. Again, that's not my problem."

I didn't know what to say. I just sat there and stared at him as my high reach its climax and began to come down. He ran his fingertips along my arms until I was covered in goosebumps. "I can tell how much you like when I touch you. It's obvious... like reading a book."

"Or the market," I said, shivering.

He leaned in again and pecked my lips. They were smooth and tasted of whisky.

Again I pulled away. "This is a mistake. Not only do I barely know you, I work for you. People will talk. I don't want to make my job harder than it already is by having my name run through the rumor mill. Everyone will think I got this job by fucking you, not because I deserved it. That's torture for a woman like me. It's torture for anyone whose accomplished as much as I have. I can't throw away my reputation for one night with you." Not to mention I was trying to implicate him in a giant insider-trading scheme. I was better than this. I was better than falling for him but I was nowhere near perfect, and I saw how easily it could be to slip away into a fantasy.

He kissed me again and then scanned my body up and down and fixed his eyes on my breasts. "Who says it will be one night? I can tell you right now one night one isn't going to be near enough."

"Ok, then, two nights."

He laughed. "You've got a smart mouth on you and I like it. Though for someone with such a smart mouth you sure do worry a whole lot about what people say. Let them say whatever they want. If you're as confident as you say you are it shouldn't matter. If you want it bad enough it shouldn't matter."

"Want what?"

He grabbed my hand and placed it on his cock. It was rock hard and made me wet. I looked him in the eyes with my will power hanging off the precipice of doom. "Is that all?"

"If that's all you want. Then that's all you'll get."

"What else would I want?"

He smiled. "Success. Power. Money. I can give you that. I can make you more successful than you've ever dreamed possible simply because I say so. That's the kind of power I have. I say things and they happen. Like magic. And guess what?"

"What?"

"Tonight I'm going to fuck you and you're going to like it." He leaned in to kiss me and our lips locked in passion. I pulled away again and looked him in the eyes where we connected on this plane of cocaine induced pleasure. I knew right then that resistance was futile. Barrett was going to fuck me and I was going to let him.

My pussy was drooling down my legs, that was the second time he'd made me wet and he'd barely even touched me. I hated to imagine what would happen when he was inside of me. I just hoped everything still worked like it was supposed to.

We kissed again and our tongues slid over each others. "Wait," I said.

He pulled back. "What?"

I took a deep breath. "Be gentle with me. That's all I ask."

He grinned. "By the time I get started on you the last thing you'll want is gentle. You'll tell me you want it harder. Faster. Deeper. And then your fingers will curl into the sheets as you cum."

Jesus Christ this was a mistake, a very, very big mistake that I was destined to make from the moment I'd signed up for the academy. Barrett was about to give me a taste of everything I'd sacrificed to make it to where I currently was. The men. The parties. The sex. The feeling of having something more to look forward to than a job. He was dangerous. I feared that just like the cocaine, once I had a taste of his cock I was going to find it very, very difficult to stop fucking him, and it was going to leave me in a precarious position with the FBI.

And still I couldn't resist.

He leaned in and kissed me again and I let go.

Bang.

Fire.

Electricity.

Our lips were locked in a cocaine fueled passion and I remembered just how much I enjoyed the simplicity of a kiss. It's pleasure. It's softness. It's innocence. Unfortunately a kiss more than not led to a mistake, and this time I was sure it would. It still didn't stop me.

My heart pounded as our tongues wound around each others. They never stopped even for a moment. Instead we went deeper and harder as the passion that existed between us erupted into a fireball that threatened to sink us both. No matter how good he made me feel, if I had to take him down I was going to do it.

He grabbed me by the hips and slammed me into the wall, which cracked the wooden façade behind me. "I know you want it. And I can tell by the way you're shaking that you haven't had it in a long, long time."

"Then what are you waiting for? Give it to me."

He kissed me again, this time moving down my chin and underneath it until he was on my neck and sucking it gently. It was too much to take and again I erupted in goosebumps. He giggled a bit as he watched the little hairs on my body stand on end. "You liked that, didn't you?"

"Can't you tell?"

He kissed my upper chest and moved down to my cleavage. "When was the last time a man touched these things of beauty?"

"It's none of your business."

He smiled. "That's what I thought. They've gone unused and unloved, that all changes right now." He cupped my breasts with his hands and squeezed them. My nipples tightened instantly.

The cocaine made everything more intense.

He slipped one of his hands around my side until he found the back zipper on my dress, which he slowly peeled down to the crest just above my ass. He brought his hand back up over the flesh he'd just exposed and elicited a shiver.

In a moment of passion he spun me around, unclasped my bra. "You're shaking."

I looked back over my shoulder. "I know."

His hands slipped across my sides and between my bra as he found my flesh tight and swollen. He massaged them deeply with both hands as he squeezed and pulled on them though avoided my nipples, which ached to be touched.

He pulled my body against his back and held my breasts tighter, like handles. I arched my ass into his groin, feeling the bulge behind me and wondering what it would feel like when it made its way inside of me.

He lightly rubbed my nipples, gently pinching them between his forefinger and thumb, and as he did that he kissed my back, breathing hard, warm air on to my skin. I was in a state of physical and emotional disarray.

I knew I should have stopped him, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Everything just felt so god damn good.

He pushed my dress and bra forward and down my legs until my dress was circling around my ankles like cuffs. He scraped his fingers down my legs and pulled off my heels, then the dress until there was nothing left hidden but a thong that was wedged in my ass and wrapped around my waist.

I looked over my shoulder and found him staring at my exposed ass. "It's a thing of beauty, that ass."

"It's been that way since high school. And ever since then men have been trying to put things inside of it."

He laughed. "I can only imagine. You must have been a very popular girl."

He was wrong, in fact, everyone pretty much hated me. Either that or they were jealous, it was too hard to tell.

He whispered in my ear. "Have you ever given it to anyone?"

"No. And I don't intend to."

He smacked my ass so hard it sent a sizzle across my skin. "Don't challenge me with something like that. You know I'll get my way."

An ache radiated on my ass where he'd smacked me. "You're just going to have to accept the fact that you might not get everything you want from me."

He smacked my ass again right over the same spot as before. The residual pain from that smack was even more intense than the first. "I don't accept it. And I won't accept it."

He smacked my ass one more time for good measure and I yipped. "I thought I told you to be gentle with me."

"This is gentle. You don't want to see hard." He whacked me again, this time against the virgin cheek. Now my entire ass was throbbing, though as it throbbed it made me antsy, it made me want more, though I would be damned if I was going to tell him that. "Is this your thing? You like to spank women?"

He hit the other cheek again. It was now burning. "Especially when they talk back."

"I never imagined you as a sadist."

"That's because you barely know me. You'll be surprised what a motivator pain of all kinds can be. And it's like I said, I know you asked for it gently but by the time this night is through you'll be begging me for hard."

His fingers traced up my hips and weaseled between the band of my thong along my back. He was breathing hard against my ass and growing more impassioned by the moment. He ripped my thong apart and surprised me as he threw it to my side. "Oh, yea. That's more like it."

He pressed my lower back so that my ass protruded out and I placed my hands on the wood façade walls, which helped me stabilize my body. I'd never seen a man more consumed by me, enamored even. And it made me wonder if he'd planned this all along.

He grabbed my ass and kissed the red marks on my cheeks where he'd spanked me, which tickled my sensitive, red skin. "Do you like when I kiss you there?"

My voice trembled. "I do."

"How about this?" He ran his tongue along the crack of my ass. The sensation was so intense it sent my body jolting forward out of instinct.

My heart was racing. "That too."

His hands slid up the gap between my thighs and found the slippery mess my pussy had made as fluid gushed out of me. "I've never seen a woman so wet. You're going to need all the help you can get."

"For what?"

"For me. Let's just say that I'm big. I'm really big. And I know how to use it."

The moment I was waiting for sent a wave of pleasure through my body as he massaged my pussy from behind and slipped his middle finger into my wet, dripping hole.

He fingered me deeply and began to massage my clit with every thrust. My legs quaked. I'd truly forgotten how good it felt to have a man inside me. My clit hardened as he stroked it, tightening into a wound up ball of nerves that was ready to unleash. I pushed my hips back on him until his finger was in me knuckle deep.

"Jesus Christ you're tight."

No shit. I hadn't been fucked for so long. The thickest thing I'd put up there was a tampon. "You say it like it's a bad thing."

"Far, far from it." He kissed my ass again and penetrated me further.

In another moment of passion he shoved his face right in my ass and growled. He then began to lick it, slithering his tongue over my asshole with fast, hard strokes. I vibrated and my legs shook. This was new. This was amazing. "Oh, God! I think you may have found my weakness."

To think I'd turned every ex-boyfriend down when they offered this to me made me feel like I'd been crazy before. And maybe I had. I was definitely crazy now. Crazy for Barrett and his ruthless tongue on my ass.

He continued with hard, deep strokes that left me breathless.

"Don't stop." I was about to cum.

Barrett pulled back. "You don't get to tell me what to do. That's my job."

He stood up and scratched my ass with his fingertips.

"Are you going to stand back there and eat me all night or are you going to make good on your word and fuck me?"

He chuckled. "I'm nowhere near done with you yet."

I was counting on it.

He spun me back around and kissed me with the sweet smell of my ass lingering on his lips. He picked me up again by the hips and tossed me on the bed. If this was a mistake it was the most pleasurable one I'd ever made and I hadn't even came yet.

As he approached the bed I laid back and spread my legs. He stood there for a moment and stared at my pussy. "Your vagina... it's perfection in the flesh and I need to taste it before we go any further."

"What are you waiting for then? Eat me."

He was practically drooling as he knelt before me at the edge of the bed and pulled me toward him. He pressed the backs of my thighs toward the mattress so that my pussy and ass rose up off the sheets. And then he licked my sloppy pussy with that incredible tongue of his.

With each stroke he became more intense and I pinched my nipples. It was like his tongue was designed to fuck me. I leaned my neck forward, watching his head move about as he thrashed at my clit and brought me to the edge of an orgasm.

My body quaked.

My legs trembled.

And he stopped, looking up at me with a smile. "You weren't going to cum on me we're you?"

I tried to catch my breath. "No, Sir. I would never do such a thing."

He stood, and like a woman desperate to get fucked I crawled toward him and unbuttoned his pants. His rock hard cock was just beneath a soft piece of imported fabric and soon it would be in my mouth, if I could fit it.

It wasn't even out and Barrett was smiling. "You want to see it don't you?"

"Am I going to be disappointed?"

He smiled with the confidence of a man with a big cock. I pulled down his zipper and his trousers hit the floor revealing boxers that were filled with bulge. I slipped my fingers between the waistband of his boxer briefs and pulled them to his ankles.

His cock jumped out me like a startled rattlesnake looking to strike, and I put that dangerous beast in my mouth.

I sucked his cock, sliding up and down the shaft as I stared into his sexy blue eyes.

He was grinning and shrugged off his jacket leaving only a white shirt and a tie.

I continued sucking his cock and watching him undress as I tasted all he had to offer.

His massive cock spread my jaw open to its maximum girth and it still wasn't enough to handle the whole thing.

He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, and when he was fully nude grabbed the back of my head and fed his cock down my throat.

He fucked my mouth and as he did I couldn't take my eyes off his chest, which was perfectly cut. His abs were textbook washboard like he'd been carved by the devil.

I'd never been with a man as rich as him, and I'd never been with a man as handsome as him, and I couldn't believe it but I was so turned on that I was going to cum right there with his cock in my mouth.

And he was about to join me.

I started to breathe heavy and continued stroking him as he expanded in my mouth. "Jesus Christ, woman!"

I continued taking him further and out of sheer instinct grabbed his balls and stroked them until they were tight against his body, applying just enough pressure to give his orgasm a head start.

He grabbed my head and thrust down my throat and I readied to taste his thick ropes of cum but just as he was about to cum he pulled my head back. "Stop, that's an order."

His cock was dripping with mucus and saliva that was also dripping off my lips. I'd gone and made a mess of myself.

I looked up in his eyes. "You never should have let me suck it."

"Why?"

"Because I've forgotten how much I missed it."

He grinned. "Wait till I fuck you. You'll never want me to stop. Get on your back again, let me see that pussy."

He climbed on top of me and kissed my lips. "I'm going inside you now. Do you think you can handle it?"

I was aching to get fucked. "Be gentle. Break me in before you break me."

He climbed on the bed and lay on top of me, supporting his body with one hand and holding his cock rigid with the other. "Deep breath. This might hurt a bit."

I took a deep breath back, relaxed, and prepared to be penetrated.

He angled his penis at my waiting vagina and pressed against my hole. It was so damn tight it wouldn't go in. Like I was a virgin. And I mine as well have been. "I'm sorry it's so tight. I'm nervous."

He placed his finger on my lips. "I knew you were tight but don't worry, I'll get it in. You can count on that."

He rubbed my pussy and then greased his cock up with its slime. He pressed against me again and this time he was able to get the tip in but just the tip.

"Relax, baby. It's almost there."

I took another deep breath which opened my pelvis and allowed him to slide inside me so deeply I thought I was going to explode.

It burned as he thrust it gently in and out but the burn turned to pleasure soon after.

My pussy squeezed him like a vice and every heart beat in his cock throbbed against the internal walls of my vagina.

"Oh my God you're so fucking tight."

I looked in his eyes, arched my stomach upward and my pussy swallowed him hole until his balls slammed against my ass. "Don't move. Just keep it there. I want to feel you inside of me. Gently."

He grabbed my hands and pulled them over my head. "I'm sorry, baby, but the time for gentle is over."

With his cock deep inside he pulled it back out and shoved it back in, completely taking my breath away. I gasped and struggled to breathe as he impaled me. It was divine. I wanted more, and just like he'd said, I wanted it harder. "Harder."

He smiled. "Ask me nicely."

"Fuck me harder. And deeper. Show me what I've missed."

He didn't just begin to fuck me. He pounded me. Hard.

Our hips collided with the slaps of sweaty skin and to push me over the edge he massaged my clit. I lost control of my body. "Oh god, I'm going to cum!"

He slowed down and kissed my nipples. "You can cum when I tell you to and not a second before."

He began to fuck me again, this time even harder, every stroke kept me at the same intense plateau of pleasure as his cock swelled inside of me. With a firm grip on my hands he pounded me into the mattress so hard my head began to spin. "Now you may cum."

I released all the tension in my body and unleashed in a full body orgasm that left every single one of my nerves tingling and every one of my muscles twitching.

He leaned in to kiss me. "I'm going to cum right inside you, like you're mine, like I own you."

His thrusts intensified as he unleashed inside me with a loud, menacing groan and filled me with cum.

He collapsed on top of me and rolled over on his back.

With my cocaine high now long gone I was aching for another bump. If he'd of had any left I never would have stopped.

I'd danced with the white powder devil before in my life and barely lived to tell the tale, and it seemed I was about to throw on my dancing shoes again.

When I realized I wasn't going to get any more coke I was forced to contend with the most brutal emotional twin in existence: guilt and shame.

As I laid there on my back next to Barrett my mind raced with one question and one question only: what the fuck had I just done?

Barrett leaned over to the nightstand and pulled out a cigar. "That was incredible."

I couldn't say anything. I was tense and distant. All I could think about was the hell that was going to unleash on my life for making such an incredible mistake.

He clipped the end of the cigar. "Well?"

I turned to him and smiled. "Yea. Yea, it was really good."

He scrunched his eyebrows as he lit his cigar with a handheld butane torch. "Are you ok?"

"Yea, Barrett. I'm fine."

"Ok. I'll take your word for it. Listen, it's getting late and I've got an early investor call. We should get some rest." He stood up and started to put on his pants as he puffed on his rich smelling cigar.

I was confused. "Wait a minute. You're not sleeping with me?"

"Like I told you, I'm sleeping nearby and I will be off the boat by the time you wake up. Jackson will be here to take you back to shore in the morning, and from the marina he will take you home if you still need transportation."

He put on his shirt and cheated me out a night next to his chiseled body. "Ok. I guess that's fine. Thanks."

He slipped on his pants. "And Monday I need you in the office prepared to work. You're the 'fucking new girl', and you need get your shit straight. Are you familiar with a Tradespeed Terminal?"

"Yes, that's what I've used to trade for most of my career."

"Good, then you'll fit right in. I've already had you set up in the system so there won't be any bullshit with IT. I'm expecting a heavy day of trade. Also, every day I have a pre-market open meeting at 5:30 AM. I need you there by 5:15 AM. Don't be late. Understand?"

"Does that mean 5:00 AM?"

He laughed. "No, this time it means 5:15 AM. And stop by my office before you enter yours."

"Ok. I understand."

"Good. Goodnight."

Barrett strutted out of the room and closed the door behind me. It was almost 2:30 AM and I was beyond spent. I fluffed my pillow, put my head down, and knocked right out.
Chapter 6

I'd slept like shit, tossing and turning and craving another bump of white powder the entire night. This, of course, didn't do a damn thing for my rampaging guilt, which only intensified as I thrashed in my sheets.

Barrett was right. By the time I finally woke up, showered, and dressed myself he was nowhere to be found. Only the scent of his natural musk and a faint whiff of cigar smoke remained. It wasn't enough to tide me over.

If Harvey found out about anything that had happened I'd be done for. Hell, I could even be arrested for a felony and lose everything I'd worked so hard to obtain, including my trading licenses, which I'd kept up with SEC just in case I ever decided to head back to the private sector.

The risk just didn't seem worth it and yet, knowing the risk, I still couldn't stop thinking about two things: fucking Barrett and snorting coke. Either one of those thoughts alone were enough to make me shiver.

Jackson had taken me to shore, and I'd taken an Uber back home to my apartment in Mission Terrace, which was an overpriced dump considering the overcrowding and parabolic spike in rents given the boom in the technology sector over the last decade.

I was lucky to have my own place.

I was lucky that I could even afford my own place. Most people my age couldn't and were sharing apartments at a ratio of three people to one room.

As I made my way back to my apartment I consciously avoided looking in my purse so that I didn't see my cell phone, as I knew there were a multitude of missed calls, probably all from Harvey. I'd deal with him later when I figured out what I would say.

I grabbed my home key from my purse and inserted it into the door. Just as I pushed the door open the scent of cigarette smoke filled my nose. I grew paranoid, and without my standard issue I stayed outside. "Hello? Is there anyone in there?"

"In here!" It took me only a second to recognize the voice. I walked into my apartment and toward the kitchen to find Harvey sitting at my small dining room table in his blue suit smoking a cigarette. "Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in."

Fuck. I was in deep shit. The kind of deep shit you need a shovel to dig out of. "Harvey...what a surprise... what are you doing here?"

He ashed his cigarette in one of my drinking glasses. "Don't play dumb with me. Sit down. We need to talk."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and sat down across from him. He hadn't taken his eyes off of mine for at least a minute. If my heart was beating any louder he would have heard it.

"I need you to be straight with me. What the fuck happened to you last night?"

I was so filled with shame I couldn't even look him in the eyes. "I...I don't know. The party went long and got crazy. The ferry service to the shore stopped at midnight and I got stranded on his yacht."

Harvey laughed. "Stranded on his yacht, huh? Some place to get stranded. Why weren't you on the last ferry out?"

"No one told me there was one. I assumed they were running all night but they weren't. That's my bad. I take full responsibility for that."

He took another drag off his cigarette. "You do realize you put yourself and the investigation in jeopardy with your actions, right?"

"If I was in any danger I would have let you know, same goes with the investigation. Everything was fine. Barrett used the time to get to know me."

Harvey laughed. "I bet he did."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Harvey sighed. "Nothing. I shouldn't have even said it." He dropped the butt of his cigarette in my glass and capped it with a coaster.

"You're right. You shouldn't have. I don't like what you're implying and I think it's time for you to leave."

"Relax. I know how these undercover operations are. I've been there. You're walking a tightrope at all times. I just want to remind you that you're trained to walk that tightrope and if you fall off it there's nothing and no one there to catch you. I can't have you disappearing like that again. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry that it happened. I lost track."

He sighed deeply. I'd never seen him this intense.

"Did you get anything useful of out of my lipstick listener?"

He laughed. "Yes...and no. We ran the names of everyone you interacted with."

"And?"

"As far as we can tell everyone on that boat was clean."

"What about a man named Damien Wesley? Barrett and he disappeared for a while and I couldn't tell what they were saying. It sounded important."

"Damien's clean too. He and Barrett go back to childhood. He is a well respected businessman from Wyoming. Whoever's protecting Barrett wasn't on that boat."

"Well, that tells us something, doesn't it?"

"It does. What time do you go in tomorrow?"

"The markets open at 6:30 AM, he holds a strategy session at 5:30 AM, and I'm supposed to be there at 5:15 AM."

Harvey laughed. "Shit, that's brutal. You had it easy coming in at 7:30 AM. I bet you want your FBI schedule back."

"No. Like I said, I live for this stuff. I love trading even though the entire system is a hunk of corrupt shit."

"That it is. Alright, Claire, get some rest it looks like you're going to need it."

"Ok, Harvey, I will."

"And Claire, I know I told you not to disappear like that again, but I have to warn you. If it happens even once more I'm going to pull you from this case and that mark will go on your permanent FBI record. You don't want that so don't do it."

I nodded. "I'm sorry, Harvey. I won't do it again."

"I know you won't. I'm counting on you."

Harvey stood up and walked out of my apartment and I let out a deep sigh of relief. That could have easily gone the other way.

Five minutes after Harvey left I grabbed a glass of water and was startled by a knock on my door. I approached the door and looked through the peephole to find a courier. I opened the door to a man in a brown suit holding a manila envelope. "Are you Claire Nicholson?"

I nodded. "Yes. And you are?"

"I'm a courier working for Mr. Barrett Black." He handed me the padded manila envelope. "Good day and good luck." He walked away without even saying goodbye.

I took the envelope to my kitchen table and opened it with a butter knife. Inside was a badge to the corporate office, a key to my office, a pair of hot pink panties, and a thumb sized vial full of cocaine.

Barrett Black was the fucking devil.
Chapter 7

Who needs coffee when you have cocaine?

Who even wants coffee when you have cocaine?

Not me, that's for damn sure. And that was a problem.

I drove up to the Black Star Financial building before the sun was even up and prior to leaving my car took a fat bump off the vial Barrett had given me. Damn I felt good...and confident too.

I walked to the front doors of the Black Star building with purpose, only realizing as I went in that I wouldn't even get to see the sun before it set as the traders and portfolio managers weren't allowed to leave until 7:00 PM.

The hours were brutal and I was going to have to get used the glow of my computer monitors as a replacement for sunlight. It wouldn't be forever though, and the juice was definitely worth the squeeze.

I slipped through the revolving door and into the foyer, which was nothing short of magnificent. Black marble pillars stretched up to the ceiling, the same black marble covered the floor.

A group of security guards in front of me were behind a stand in white shirts and black ties. One walked out from the stand and stopped me as I headed for a bank of gold rimmed elevators to my right. "Miss, may I see your badge please?"

It was hanging off my neck so I grabbed it and showed him. He scanned it with a small device that was hooked to an IPad, which cleared me. He looked in my eyes. "I'm sorry, you're new and I didn't recognize you. Corporate policy is that you have to give up your cell phone before entering the premises. Please hand it over."

I was taken by surprise as I reached into my purse and handed it to him. "Does everyone have to do this?"

He nodded. "Everyone. You can get it when you leave."

"Ok. Thanks for letting me know."

"No problem. Have a good first day at Black Star. Don't let it be your last."

This place must have seen some serious turnover in its existence.

I caught the first elevator that opened, placed my badge on the small black badge reader, and then pressed the button for floor 21, all without a hitch.

Yes, I was on top of the fucking world.

****

As soon as the elevator doors opened I knew something was up. Phones were ringing off the hook, which wasn't normal for five o'clock in the morning. They usually didn't start ringing until a few minutes before the market opened.

I walked toward a set of dark brown double doors and placed my badge on the reader to unlock them.

I pushed them open and walked toward the trading floor. Men and woman were already at their desks staring into their six monitors each fielding calls.

One man was even pulling out his frazzled gray hair. These people were stressed out to the max.

One man got up, grabbed one of his monitors, and chucked into a wall.

I stood there shocked as he stormed out of the building and tossed his badge in the trash. This was fucking crazy.

Brian Woo walked up to me. "Claire, how's it going?"

"Good. What the hell is going on here?"

He laughed a bit. "You didn't hear the news did you?"

"No. What happened?"

"The word on Wall Street is that there's a massive insider trading investigation by the SEC against Barrett Black and Black Star Financial. Pre-market trading in our publicly traded stock is down almost 25%. Our clients are calling and demanding to be taken out when the market opens."

I started to sweat. "Who leaked the story?"

"I don't know. It was an anonymous source who said it was being covered up and the world needed to know the truth about Barrett Black and Black Star Financial. Fucking crazy, huh?"

"Yea, especially for a first day."

Michelle walked up from behind me. "And it just might be your last."

"Or yours," I said. "I thought Barrett told you to find a new attitude?"

"Oops. I must have forgotten." She walked right by me toward her office and slipped inside.

Brian shook his head. "Don't listen to her. She's a fucking bitch. There, I finally said it. Someone had to."

I laughed.

Brian looked at the mess in front of us. "You do realize that were going to have start liquidating Black Star positions en masse to meet the cash requirements for these redemptions, right? It's going to be a fucking blood bath and Barrett's going to be pissed today."

"Where is he, anyways? He told me I needed to meet him before I stepped foot in my office."

"His office is down the hall in the corner. It's the only one with a view, the bastard. He had all of our windows cemented over. He's in there with a client right now so you'll probably have to wait to get an audience."

"That's fine. I'm just going to do what I'm told."

Brian laughed. "Smart move, believe me. The last thing you want to do is disobey him. He'll turn you into a fossil."

I walked across the trading floor and came upon my office. My name was already etched on to the glass of my door. This place was as efficient as it was crazy.

As much as I wanted to sit in my office and get situated I did what I was told and walked toward Barrett's office.

As soon as I got there Damien barged out of it. He tipped his black leather cowboy hat at me, but I could see in his eyes that he was fucking pissed.

Barrett walked out of his office covered in sweat and looking as sexy as I'd seen him in a charcoal grey suit. He sighed at me. "Get in here. We need to talk."

I took a deep breath and walked in the office. He closed the door behind me.

"What is going on?" I said.

"What's going on is that you're going to have a crazy first day at Black Star Financial. When the market opens I need you to start liquidating your speculative portfolio, all $8 billion dollars of it."

I was going to liquidate myself right out of a job. "That's going to make waves."

"Not if you do it right. You've sold off funds before at J.P. Sachs, right?"

"Yes but never this much." I was so full of shit it hurt.

"It's easy. When you start selling don't jump the gun. Sell it all in batches. Spread it out. Don't spook anyone. Can you handle that?"

I nodded with cocaine induced confidence. "Absolutely but why?"

"I've got no choice. We're a cash poor fund and we've already received $2 billion dollars worth of redemptions and the market hasn't even opened. Damien Wesley's just decided to pull his money too. He didn't want his name being dragged through the mud if the SEC investigation gained legs... there goes another $5 billion. I'm taking it from the spec portfolio because I refuse to sell my winners and that fund is way, way down. The tax losses alone will be substantial."

"If I sell off the fund what I am going to manage?"

"Please... sit down."

I sat down in a comfortable, form fitting mesh chair, which forced good posture upon me.

He sexy blues eyes peered into mine from across his desk. "I need you to make a trade for me. About ten minutes after the market opens I want you to buy $100 million dollars worth of deep out of the money call options on Perseus Technologies. Spread them out among expiration months and strike prices. I don't want to alert the market."

I couldn't believe it. He was asking me to trade on insider information on my first day. Like I didn't know any better. "What's the strategy behind the trade?"

Barrett paused. "That's for me to know. Just do it." The intensity in his eyes was just plain fucking sexy.

"I'm sorry, Barrett. At best what you're asking me to do is unethical and at worst it's illegal."

"I didn't ask you to speculate on it. I asked you to do it." He was getting angry and he was starting to sweat.

"I refuse to make that trade. Do you really think that's a good idea considering the possibility of an ongoing investigation? That sounds to me like you're just asking for trouble."

He grabbed a remote control on his desk and pressed the center button on it, which caused the windows to tint. He then stood up, walked behind me, and whispered in my ear. "Claire, I need you to make those trades for me. It's important."

"I can't do it."

He placed his hands on my shoulders. "You of all people can do it. And you will."

"No. It goes against everything I believe in."

"And yet you'd told me you'd do whatever it takes to succeed. Did you like what happened Saturday night?"

My heart was pumping as he massaged the stress from my shoulders. "Yes."

"Do you want it to happen again?"

He now moved his hands to my breasts and began to massage them. I arched my neck back so that I could look up into his eyes. "Yes."

"Then you'll do what I ask."

I started to breathe heavily. I was so turned on I didn't know what to do.

He spun my chair around, moved his hand up my skirt, and slowly touched my wet pussy. "Are you going to make those trades for me?"

"No. It's illegal."

He looked up at me and grinned. "You mean like snorting cocaine before work, right?"

"How did you know that?"

He smiled. "Lucky guess, and now you've confirmed it. I didn't think you could resist that vial for more than a day considering what a fiend you were the other night."

"What you're asking me to do is different."

He pulled my panties to the side and sunk his finger inside my pussy. "There's nothing illegal about it. You're following orders. That's all."

"But—"

"But what? I'm your Boss. That should be the end of the discussion. Are you challenging me?"

"No."

"That's what I thought. Remember good girls get rewarded and bad girls get...punished." He began to massage my clit the same time he fingered me and it was just sublime. He knew my weakness and he was praying on it.

"I'll be good. Don't stop."

He sunk a second finger inside my pussy and began to thrust them in and out. My legs clamped together. "I'm so close."

"Are you going to make my trades or not?"

I was breathing hot and heavy. "I think I might need a bit more convincing."

He grabbed my hair and pulled my neck back. "Do you really need to be convinced to do your fucking job?"

"Only this part of it so convince me."

He kissed me so passionately it just about shattered my will.

He then knelt in front of me and began to finger me again. "Your pussy is so hot and so warm. It will be a shame when I have to let you go for insubordination."

My voice quivered. "No. I'll do it. I promise."

He turned his fingers inside me and began massaging my asshole with his thumb. "Oh, God."

"It feels good doesn't it?"

"Yes...Yes it does. I want more." I was struggling to breathe and my entire body was shaking.

The next moment he pulled his fingers from my pussy and placed them on my lips. "Suck it off."

I was aching to cum and my pussy confused. I squirmed in the chair. "But I'm not done. Put them back inside me."

He rubbed his fingers over my lips. "You're done for now. Now clean my fingers."

I opened my mouth and he placed his fingers inside it. I sucked them clean. "Better?"

"Yes. Now I want you to make the trades. And if you're a good girl and do exactly as I ask you just might get to come in here again."

I was in a state of cognitive dissonance. On one hand I could refuse him, get fired, and ruin the entire investigation. On the other hand I could do as he wished, maintain the investigation, and reap the rewards."

I was walking on Harvey's tight rope and if I stepped in the wrong direction I would fall to my doom.

Chapter 8

I'd left Barrett's office with my hot pink panties soaked and my pussy itching for his cock. I situated myself in front of the glow of my computer screens and waited for the market to open.

I was torn between what I wanted, what I wanted to do, and what I should have done. All three options were pulling me in different directions.

The open was hectic and right out of the gate Black Star Financial's stock started tanking. The trading floor erupted with yells and screams. It was intense, and much more so than what I experienced at Ignite Capital. These guys here were the real deal. They were hardcore.

I closed the glass doors to my office to cut the decibel level and paced around my office to clear my mind. I wanted to call Harvey but that idea was a loser to begin with given that I was on a recorded line by law and if Barrett ever figured out who I was and what I was up to the last thing I'd get from him was a kiss.

I was walking the tight rope on my own with no one there to catch me if I fell, and I could sense a hard wind coming.

I sat down at my Tradespeed Terminal and pulled up the option chain for Perseus Financial. I structured the option trade so that it would cause as little volatility as possible. All I had to do was click send and break the law. It was either that or give up and go home, and I just wasn't ready for that.

Sending the order was the only way to cement myself as a player at Black Star and that was more important than this trade. It built the trust that was going to be necessary to take Barrett down. My hand hovered over the mouse but I just didn't have the courage to send it. I just couldn't get over the fact that what I was doing was wrong.

I grabbed the vial of cocaine from my purse, cracked it open, and when no one was looking, snorted a bump off the back of my hand.

Within minutes I was once again invincible. I clicked the mouse and broke the law just so that I could try and uphold it. I likened it to a cop car speeding to catch a criminal. It had to be done so I did it and it was too damn late to take it back.

The order filled in chunks and took about thirty seconds to complete. A moment later I had an open profit and loss and watched it fluctuate with excitement. It had only been a minute and I was up $200,000. God damn I missed this game.

It was better than sex.

It was better than cocaine.

It had a rush all its own...a rush that was near impossible to beat.

I'd just thrown $100 million dollars at the market and the market just gobbled it up like candy and asked for more. Just like my pussy was going to do to Barrett's cock. It was going to inhale it.

I then began systematically dumping all of the positions in the speculative portfolio, just like I was asked. I structured this trade to be as sneaky as I knew how. I'd set the orders to flow out at a steady pace over the next few hours so that I wouldn't signal a sell on the underlying positions or the stock of Black Star, though I wasn't sure that mattered.

Black Star's stock continued to tumble when word hit the wire that we were facing mass liquidations. An hour after trade commenced we were down 40% and the sell volume kept hitting the tape in million share chunks.

People were scared and so was I but for a different reason.

If the shop closed down the fun would end. I didn't want the fun to end.

I took another bump of coke, and then one more, right up until the point I was flying on my own hubris.

My phone rang and I picked it up. "Hello?"

"It's Barrett. I need you in my office now and it can't wait."

My hands were jittery from the coke as I hung up the phone and placed the vial of cocaine between my tits.

****

I hurried over to Barrett's office where he sat in front of two monitors with trepidation. He waved me through the glass and I opened the door. "Close it."

I did as he asked and he tinted the windows again. I couldn't wait until he fucked me. I was still wet, hot, and ready, and coked up to boot.

He pointed at his monitor. "I see you've entered the trades. How do you feel?"

"Dirty."

He pushed his chair back and stood up. "How dirty?"

"Like a filthy whore." I couldn't take my eyes off of him. In fact I couldn't even close them.

"You're high aren't you? I've seen those glazed over eyes before."

"I am. Why don't you join me?" I pulled the vial of cocaine from between my breasts and shook it.

He licked his lips and walked toward me as I screwed open the vial. He snorted a bump of coke right out of it. "Have you come for your bonus?"

"I have. I just found out I was eligible. Color me shocked."

He ran his hands up my skirt. "Did trading all that money make you horny?"

"Yes, now reward me before I leave here disappointed."

He pulled my hair back and whispered in my ear. "Place your hands on the table."

I did as he asked. My hands touched the cold glass surface of his desk as I pushed out my ass.

"This is for your attitude." He spanked me so loud anyone could have heard it.

"Do you want another?"

"No. I want you inside me."

"Too bad." He smacked my ass again.

With my butt cheeks red he dipped his finger in my pussy and my legs shook. "You're so fucking wet you're practically dripping." He pulled his finger from my pussy and wiped my slime against my asshole. "You're going to want to scream, but I need you to keep your voice down. Deep breath, baby, here I come."

He unzipped his pants and sunk his cock right into my pussy. I used the desk for support against his thrusts, which were nothing short of destructive.

It took no time at all build back to the climax I'd missed.

As he was fucking me he slipped his thumb up my ass.

He was right. I wanted to scream and it just killed me that I couldn't.

He was pounding me in both holes, the pleasure in my ass intensified that in my pussy and I was losing control. He started breathing hard as he struggled not to groan. Finally he unleashed inside of me and I came with a subdued squeal.

He pulled out of me and zipped his pants up.

I pulled my skirt back down and sat back in their chair with my panties still wet and sticky. I was struggling to catch my breath when he walked around the desk and dropped a black file folder in front of me.

I grabbed it. "What's this?"

"Why don't you open it and find out."

He was looking at me with intensity as I cracked it open.

My heart stopped.

"What's a matter, Miss Nichols? Surprised? Shocked? Terrified?"

I didn't know what to say. The gig was up and my cover was blown. "How long have you known this?"

"I knew who you were before the moment you even sat down to interview with me."

I was stupefied.

"Don't act shocked. The FBI couldn't hide your identity from my security team if they tried. I know everything about you. Your weaknesses, your struggles, your pain, what motivates you, what pleases you, and what angers you. Go on. Flip through the file. Take a stroll down memory lane for me because I've already memorized it."

I was grasping for words but just sat there with my jaw open and struggling to breathe. My hands shook as I thumbed through the file. Inside it was a collection of facsimiles and documents that dated back to high school.

There was a copy of my driver's license, social security card, and diplomas from high school and college. There were paystubs from my last employer and tax records too. Deeper in the stack was another set of papers from my time in New York City where I had to go to rehab for cocaine addiction. There were images of the restraining orders I'd filed against my abusive ex-boyfriend, and even a drug arrest, which a Judge had promised me he'd seal if I went to rehab. I guess he lied. There were pictures of my parents, of their home, of the litigation they'd filed against the estate of Ernie Madeoff, and even news clippings when the local media in Asheville, North Carolina got wind that they'd been conned. He knew it all.

He'd taken every weakness and proclivity I had and used them against me. I closed the file and slid it back to him. I was so fucking pissed off I could have screamed. "You fucking used me."

He leaned back. "I had to."

"No, you didn't. You chose to. What's your angle? What do you want with me?"

He sighed. "It's complicated and dangerous and I need your help."

I laughed. "Really? You need help but it's not the kind of help I can provide. You need a shrink for that."

"Claire, please. I didn't want to do this but you're leaving me no choice."

"Do what?"

He slid a red file folder toward me. "Now this one you really want to see."

I was afraid to open it because deep down I already knew what I was going to find.

I opened it and found pictures of me snorting cocaine, of me fucking Barrett, and a history of the options trades I'd just done. The son of a bitch had set me up hard, just like he fucked me.

I wanted to kill him. "How could you do this to me?"

"I could ask you the same question. Now here's the deal. You're going to help me clear my name from the SEC and FBI investigations. And if you succeed I won't give the FBI the contents of the red file, I'll have it and all its copies destroyed. I'll also let you keep your Portfolio Manager position here with the same pay. If you decide that Black Star isn't the place for you, you can return to the FBI without question or impedance. What's most important in this offer is what I'm offering your parents. If you clear me, when it's all said and done, I will cover 100% of the losses your parents endured at the hands of Ernie Madeoff, which from their court filings appears to be just a tad shy of $10 million dollars."

What a bastard. "$10 million doesn't include eight years of compounded interest."

"I'll add that to it, like a little fucking cherry on top. Are you satisfied?"

I sat there for a moment like I had a choice. "I can't clear your name if you're guilty. I need to know right now, are you?"

He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm a lot of things but being guilty of insider trading isn't one of them. I know that irks the power structure of this country but that's the truth. I'm being blackmailed."

"What? By who?"

"I've already told you too much. Agree to my generous terms and I'll tell you everything. If you don't I'll send this file detailing your cocaine use and suspicious trading activity to the FBI. In fact, to add to your sense of urgency, this entire red file has been converted to a PDF and is sitting in my draft folder right now ready to make its way to Harvey Westbrook. All I have to do is click send. What's it going to be?"

I didn't see this coming. Not until it was right in my face, though if I was more experienced I probably would have. What Barrett wanted was a double Agent inside the government. "Why now?"

"One of my sources in the SEC told me about this investigation a few weeks ago. Honestly, with what I've been asked to do by my blackmailer, I'm surprised it didn't come sooner. I didn't realize how fast the legs were moving on the investigation until you came along, hence the urgency."

I shrugged. "Why don't you go to the FBI? What do you need me for?"

"That's just it. I don't trust the government. The problem is the government."

"I'm the government, Barrett, do you trust me?"

"Yes, I have enough dirt on you to ruin your life three times over and you know that so let's cut through the shit. I need an inside source into the FBI and I can give you this case on a silver fucking platter. You just have no idea what's at stake if you fail."

"Then tell me."

"The American way of life. If these people get their way it won't exist in as little as two to three years time."

"Are they terrorists?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Do I have a choice?"

He smiled. "Not unless you want to rot in prison, wear a burqa for the rest of your life, or be executed for refusing to accept Islam. I've already given you a head start on this investigation."

"How's that?"

"I'm the one that leaked the news to the media, which is going to put these bastards on the defensive. For the last three years these mother fuckers have been using inside information from their community and forcing me to use Black Star's own capital to trade on their behalf, from there they skim off the gains. All of their ill-gotten gains over the last few years have been reinvested by Black Star in the stock market. What worries me is that they've been liquidating it bit by bit to fund terror cells all over San Francisco. These cells are being protected by various moles within agencies of the government. Shuja brags about this like it's some accomplishment."

I sat there for a moment. "There's one thing I don't get it in all of this. What do they have on you? If you had nothing to hide you wouldn't cower to their demands, you'd turn them in to Homeland Security."

"You're smart."

"I am. So what is it?"

He sighed, pulled open a desk drawer, and took out a cigar. "Are you in or are you going to jail?"

"I'm in. What's the dirt they have on you?"

"Tax evasion. If the IRS were to look a little closer into the books of Black Star Financial, and to my own books, they'd realize that I owe them billions more than I've paid them. Coming up with that cash would ruin me financially, and it would likely ruin my investors and employees as well. I can't let that happen. We need to end this now."

"Who are they?"

"There is one mastermind senator behind it all who is controlling the terror cells. His name is Shuja Kalil out of San Francisco. He represents a large Muslim community of almost 300,000 here locally. He has been radicalized by overseas zealots that have perverted Islam and turned it into a weapon of hate and destruction. Shuja is taking his power and influence and using it to change the face of American Government and our way of life. If he has his way he will institute Sharia Law and begin executing Americans that refuse to convert to Islam through the use of local terror cells. This movement will then spread nationally."

I was starting to get scared. "That's frightening."

"Yes. It is. Now are we going to stop these bastards or what?"

I nodded. "You're god damn right we are."

"Good. Now get out of my office and leak the information I've given you to the FBI, let's see what they can dig up."

"Ok, I can do that, though I can't do it if I'm stuck here until 7:00 PM every night."

He smiled and lit his cigar. "Take whatever time you need. I'll smooth it over with the others."

I stood both scared and angry at the same time.

"And Claire."

I looked back as I walked to the door. "What?"

"Thanks."

TO BE CONTINUED OR GRAB THE BUNDLE

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An Excerpt From The Billionaire's Dark Desires

Chapter 1

"I've been seeing someone else."

Yes, those were the words Jeff Ames used when he dumped me. They were tired and cliché and they came out of his mouth as smooth as silk. They weren't the words I expected to hear from the man I thought I was going to marry but they were repeating in my mind just like the day he said them, and had been for two weeks.

Six years down the flippin' drain. Way to go, Amanda.

Heather Sinclair, my best friend since grade school, slid a dirty martini toward me over the polished metal bar inside Swank, a new, "hip" bar in Downtown Los Angeles. She was a black-haired, blue-eyed beauty with a 2 waist who stood in stark contrast to me with a waist size of 12, but I loved her anyways, even if we couldn't share clothes. In fact I had no idea where I would be without her. It was Heather that rented me the spare room in her apartment for free when I rushed out of Jeff's condominium. What a gal.

I circled my middle finger around the rim of the martini glass. "Thanks, Heather. You're a true companion."

She smiled. "Don't be snarky. Drink it. I've never seen a girl more in need of that sweet, sweet elixir."

I faked a smile. "I'm fine though, really."

Her eyebrows scrunched up in disbelief. "Your boyfriend of six years broke up with you not two weeks ago. You're not ok and that's ok."

"No, really. I'm fine."

Heather became demanding. "I am right. And you know it. Now drink."

I took a sip of my martini, which as quite good. "Thanks for taking me out tonight, but I think I'm going to go home when I finish this. Honestly, I'm tired, and it's Sunday, and I'm not sure I should be out right now."

Heather laughed. "Sorry, wrong answer. Try again!"

Heather always could make me laugh, even when I was in pain. "Let me guess... you want me to get stupid drunk and fuck some random guy?"

She giggled. "Well, I'm sure it wouldn't hurt you. And it's got to be better than sitting home alone wallowing in your own self-pity with a box of wine. I know which one I would choose."

Well, first of all it would have been a bottle of vodka, not a box of wine. Semantics. After all, maybe the skinny little bitch had a point. I took another gulp from my martini and stared longingly at the skewered olives standing upright in their bath of vodka and pondered how in the hell my life had come to this.

Heather nudged me with her elbow. "Don't look now but there's a hot guy headed in your direction. In three, two ..."

"Good for him." I knocked back the rest of my martini and looked up to find a man in a grey suit with a white shirt and a shiny grey tie, perfectly slicked back black hair, and blue eyes. He'd posted up between Heather and I but ignored Heather and extended his hand toward me. "Hi, I'm James."

I smiled and left him hanging. "I'm Amanda. And I'm not your type."

Heather interjected. "Don't listen to her. She's tired."

James turned to Heather. "And who are you?"

Heather blushed, as usual. "I'm Heather." She reached out and shook his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"No, no, no, the pleasure's mine. Would you like to dance?"

I wanted to gag.

Heather was beaming red and I didn't understand why. Men had been throwing themselves at her since she first sprouted tits. And at 32 years old I guess she still wasn't used to the attention. She looked at me for approval with eager eyes and then looked back at him. "Lead the way."

I was hands-down the best damn wing-woman in Los Angeles. Go me.

Heather could have James, what I wanted was another martini. I flagged down the bartender who approached me while cleaning a glass. "What can I get you, Mam?"

My eyes burst open. "Mam? I'm not a Mam, am I?"

The bartender laughed. "I'm not sure what to say. Did you want a drink?"

"Another martini. Dirtier than the last with three olives, please."

"Coming right up." He rushed to fill my glass and slid the martini toward me. "Would that be cash or credit?"

"Cash." I slid him a ten spot. "Keep the change."

"Thank you, uh..."

"Amanda," I said.

"Yea, thank you, Amanda. Have a great night."

I took a sip from my martini and looked up. I never should have looked up. My eyes caught those of a man in a blue twill suit and white shirt, which was unbuttoned two down from the collar. My god was he handsome. So handsome that I reasoned he couldn't have been staring at me so I smiled at him. Imagine my surprise when he smiled right back.

I sat there frozen and immediately looked down at my drink. My heart was racing. That kind of eye contact should have come with a warning. By the time I looked up once more he was already gone.

"So how many olives do you have in that thing, anyway?"

Startled I turned around. Mr. Blue Twill Suit had snuck up on me. Dangerous, this one. "Surely you can count to three?"

He smiled, reached over, and grabbed the skewer of olives, biting one off. "Delicious, aren't they?"

Sweat began oozing from my skin as my mind filled with the unmentionable. "Do you like the plump ones or the small, hard ones?"

He laughed revealing his white, perfectly aligned teeth. "That all depends."

"On?"

"How sweet they are, for one. If there's too much vinegar... I don't know it just kills it for me. You know?"

"Sure. If you say so." I think I knew what he was talking about. And it wasn't olives.

"Good." He held his hand out toward mine. "Dance with me."

"Are you asking me or are you telling me?"

He smiled. "I'm waiting."

With a deep breath I downed my second martini and turned toward him. He took my hand like a perfect gentleman but stopped abruptly and pulled out his cellphone, which was ringing. "Shit, I have to take this call. Wait for me? I'll be right back."

He answered his phone and snuck off to the smoker's patio. I waited for him just like he'd asked me to. Ten minutes later the clock struck 11:00 PM, and by 11:30 PM I was no longer waiting. I'd given up all hope of seeing Mr. Blue Twill Suit again, reasoning that he'd probably ditched me for some floozy he met on the patio. So sad that I hadn't even got his name or number.

Unfortunately for me the damage had already been done. My mind was quick to imagine him on top of me fucking my brains out, and that image, as impolite as it may be, was damn near impossible to erase from my mind.

Disappointed and ready to go home I walked around the club and looked for Heather, but she was nowhere to be found. I turned toward the exit when my phone buzzed with a text message. "James and I are heading to our place. Don't stay out too late!"

Great. I'd have to hear them fucking all night, just like the weekend before, I think the guy's name was Danny. Heather was great and all but she was a total slut. I'd lost count of the men she'd slept with in the last two weeks. It was a good thing I bought some hi-tech earplugs to cut the noise, though they wouldn't stop the wall from shaking I'd need an engineer for that.

I walked outside and flagged down a taxi on Western and Colfax. As the cab approached the curb two skinny sluts in sheer white dresses cab jacked me and slipped into the back giggling like little bitches do. "You fucking bitch!"

They all turned around and looked at me with repulsion as the cap sped off down the road.

All I could do was shake my head in disgust. Self-entitlement certainly was not lacking in Los Angeles, no surprise there.

There wasn't another cab in sight. Uber had gone to surge pricing and I had absolutely no desire to deal with that. I walked home, figuring that by the time I covered the two miles from the club to our apartment James and Heather would have already banged their yah-yahs out.

Chapter 2

The entire walk home I kept thinking about Mr. Blue Twill Suit, and that was preferable to thinking about Jeff, Mr. Great Big Asshole. It's too bad I left the bar without his name or number. Soon his face would fade from my memory and be lost to me forever.

Our apartment was on the third floor and when I arrived home I took the stairs instead of the elevator. As I opened the door from the stairway to our floor the sound of someone getting fucked was echoing down the hallway. By the time I reached our unit I realized the front door was ajar and it was Heather getting nailed to the mattress by James. She was savoring every second of it and letting the entire building know it. I loved that girl, but sometimes...

My hands shook as I pushed the door open. I didn't want to go in. I wanted to go home. This didn't feel like home, at least not yet. Slipping through the door I locked it, walked quietly to my room and closed my door behind me.

As I listened to Heather's headboard slam against the wall I let out a deep sigh and collapsed on my bed. Heather was moaning out hot and heavy like a cat in heat. It was hard for me not to be a little jealous. I hadn't been fucked in months. That should have been the first sign my relationship with Jeff was over. I missed it, just like I missed every other sign while I waited for him to pop the question, silly girls and their dreams.

I rolled on to my back and something came over me. Mr. Blue Twill Suit had infected my mind. Looking toward the door I imagined him walking into my room and placing his jacket on the back of my desk chair. He looked at me with those steely blue eyes of his and undid the last five buttons of his shirt. He tossed his shirt to the floor revealing a carved chest, which really got my juices flowing.

He stood in front of my bed and dropped his pants revealing a thick, hard bulge in his underwear. Those came off next revealing his manhood, which did not disappoint. He crawled over the bed toward me and spread my legs, and then twirled his finger over my clit. He was devious.

Soon I found myself opening up my nightstand and pulling out Mr. Purple, my rubber dildo in the shape of a thick, hard cock. With my pussy wet I slipped out of my pants and panties and slipped Mr. Purple in my pussy. First it was just the tip, nice and easy. Just like I imagined he would take me, with class.

Our lips touched and he sunk himself inside of me. He was so deep that his balls tickled my asshole. It was nice and slow at first, but the intensity soon increased until he was pounding me.

I'd never let myself get so carried away by a fantasy, but there I was matching every thrust of the Heather's headboard against the wall with Mr. Purple. I needed more. I needed the real thing.

Soon my legs were quaking and my body was tense as I inched closer to orgasm. I was so lost in the fantasy that it became real, right up until the point I came and left a wet mess all over my sheets.

Heather's headboard was still rocking but Mr. Blue Twill Suit was nowhere to be found. As I pulled Mr. Purple from my hole the only thing now filling me was an aching loneliness that I was determined to change. I deserved happiness just like anyone else and I was going to get it no matter the cost.

A banging on our front door startled me and set my heart to racing. I slipped on my panties and sweat pants and walked to the door, hoping it was the man from the bar. Yea... right.

I swung the door open. Jeff stood in front of me with a crooked smile. All my hopes, dreams, and fantasies collapsed on themselves in an instant. I was at a loss for words. "What could you possibly want?"

"You know what I want." Jeff looked at me with the look he liked to use when he wanted to fuck.

"You're drunk. Aren't you?"

He looked to the side and shrugged his shoulders. "No. Not really. I had like two beers, that's it. I swear. Let me in and let's get this party started."

In his language two meant ten and he certainly smelled like it. "I think you should go home."

He pushed himself inside. I inched back to keep the distance between us as the front door closed behind him. "Come on, baby. I miss you."

"No, you miss fucking me. That's different."

His face started to get red. "Whatever. Come on, let's go in your room and talk things out a bit, that's all I want. I swear."

I sighed. "You and I are way passed the time to talk. Agreed?"

"Not agreed. Please, baby, I'm begging you." He even placed his hands together like he was praying, though I felt no sympathy at all.

"Where's your whore? Did she already dump you?"

His face tensed. "We broke up last night."

Seeing him like this made me lose all respect for him, not that I had much left to begin with. "I'm sorry but I'm closed for business and you need to leave."

"What? No. Why?" He was getting desperate.

"Think about it, asshole. You are fucking dense."

"You've still got that snarky lip I like. Come on, Amanda, just because we broke up doesn't mean we can't still, you know... hang out."

I was confused. I thought that was exactly what breaking up meant. "You're just not getting it because you're drunk. Leave right now or I'll scream."

He shook his head in disgust. "Jesus Christ, Amanda, you act like I'm going to rape you or something."

"You've got that look in your eyes like you get when you're angry. And I don't like it, not when it's directed at me. Leave. Final warning."

"Ok. Fine. When can I see you again?"

"I don't know."

Jeff sighed as he went for the door and mumbled under his breath loud enough for me to hear it. "Guess I won't be getting any ass tonight."

I started to cry. That's all I was to him now... a booty call. Maybe that's all I ever was.

Heather walked up behind me and put her arm around my shoulders as the front door slammed shut. "Damn, you deserve better than that asshole."

I turned around with tears in my eyes. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to know you made the right decision in moving here."

James sauntered out of their room with a towel around his waist. Beads of water dripped off his chiseled chest. I couldn't blame Heather for screaming like she had; I would have to if he were on top of me. "Amanda, right?"

I smiled. "That's me."

"I've got the perfect guy for you. He's single, he's a war hero, and he's an all around good guy. What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"I-I don't know. Nothing. Why?"

"My boss is throwing a house party tomorrow night up in Westlake Village. Everyone who's everyone who's is going to be there. You should come."

Heather was excited. "Yes! Yes she should. No ifs, ands, or buts."

"But—"

Heather stopped me in my tracks. "You're going. End of story."

Chapter 3

Heather stroked her eyelashes with black mascara as she looked in the mirror. "I can't wait to see James tonight. God damn that boy can fuck."

I pulled a pitch-black dress over my head and fluffed my auburn hair around my shoulders. "I know. Trust me."

Heather giggled. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to be so loud but sometimes I can't help it, and that goes doubly so with him. His cock is like... everything my dildo dreams it could be."

I busted up laughing. "Dildos don't have dreams. And don't worry about the noise I bought earplugs as soon as I moved in. So who's this friend James wants to set me up with anyways?"

"I'm not really sure. He only mentioned it that night, though I did spy on his Facebook already. Is that bad?"

I grimaced. "Yea, that's bad... but what did you find?"

"Curious, are we?"

"Just a bit."

"Good. You should be. I would be. What I can tell you is this: most of his friends are hot. Most but not all."

Heather's phone buzzed with a text and she pulled it out of her Coach bag with a smile. "That's the Uber, he's downstairs. Are you ready?"

I smiled, looking at my teeth in the mirror. "Yea, I think so. Do I look ready?"

"Please, girl. You look hot."

I blushed. "Thanks, Heather. You too."

We hurried down the stairs to find the Uber driver outside waiting patiently by the curb. He smiled as we walked toward him. "So you two are headed all the way to Westlake Village tonight?"

Heather nodded. "Yes, we most certainly are."

"Big party?"

"Yep. And I don't want to miss it so let's get moving."

The Uber laughed. "No issue there."

Heather was on fire and it was only James that could put her out.

It was a forty-five minute drive north on the 101, which should have given us time to talk but Heather was too busy staring into the screen of her phone like some mesmerized zombie.

"What the hell are you smiling at?" I said.

She giggled. "Oh, you know, James's wang."

I laughed. "His what?"

"You know. His wang."

I was in a state of shock. "He's already sending you dick pics?"

She smirked. "Yea. He sends me pics of it and tells me it misses me. And to be quite honest I miss it."

"How charming." Surely Mr. Blue Twill Suit wouldn't do a thing like that. "Did he say anything about his friend?"

"Yes. Just now. His name is Logan Douglas and he's looking forward to meeting you."

My heart raced. "Quick. Look him up on Facebook."

Heather hopped in and out of applications on her iPhone and began scanning through James's Facebook friends. "Here, here he is!"

With a deep breath I looked at the phone. I wasn't that impressed. "He's cute. Yea. Maybe he looks different in person."

She tightened her face. "Uh oh."

"What?"

"You don't like him do you?"

"I do. We'll see."

"You're a tough customer, especially considering the fact that he put his life on the line in the Iraq War. That should be plenty to get your motor running."

I giggled. "Whatever." I laid my head against the car's window and sighed. Where oh where was Mr. Blue Twill Suit?

****

Twenty minutes later we arrived at Black Stallion Ranch in Westlake Village. The Uber pulled up to a black iron gate with the initials JW tack welded to it. "Sorry about that scare back there but these roads are windy and dark."

My hands were shaking. "That's why car's have lights."

Heather piled on. "Yea. She's right."

"I'm sorry, really. This is as far as I can go. It was a pleasure serving you. Please overlook the part where I almost drove you off a cliff and rate me five stars?"

I smiled at him as I exited the car. "Sure. I will." Not.

He smiled back at him. "Thank you."

The Uber sped off down the windy road he'd almost killed us on and left us stranded in the darkness. Asshole.

Heather was texting ferociously and walked toward the gate using her phone as a flashlight. I went in a different direction and walked to the edge of the road and looked out on the valley below. Now this was how other people lived. I always thought I had done well for myself making Manager at a local advertising firm. Apparently not.

The gate opened and Heather yelled at me from the driveway. "Come on, Mandy. Let's go. Chop, chop."

"Do I have to? It's beautiful."

She sighed. "Don't start this shit with me. Hurry up, girl, before the gate closes and locks you out here in the darkness. You know there are coyotes out here right? On nights like this you can hear them howling."

I walked toward the gate. "Nice try, babe."

"Got you over here though, didn't it?"

"I guess."

"James and Logan said they'd come out to meet us at the top of the driveway."

"Cool, sounds good." I was fucking nervous and my palms were sweating.

Heather and I walked up the driveway and I couldn't help but wonder just what this night had in store for me. Never in my entire life had I been to a place this luxurious. There were mansions and then there was Black Stallion Ranch.

The driveway ended in a roundabout that circled a fountain bathed in mood lighting that cycled between red, blue, and green.

Luxury cars of every make and model surrounded us, though I couldn't keep my eyes off of a yellow Ferrari and an orange Lamborghini.

Heather paced nervously near the walkway that led to the front door.

"Jesus, Heather. Chill out already."

She'd nibbled her nails down to the cuticles. "I'm just a little nervous, that's all."

"I'm the one who should be nervous, not you, you're trading dick pics with the guy for Christ's sake."

Heather laughed and the front door cracked open. Two men came walking toward us. Heather ditched me, ran toward James, and locked him up in a merciless hug. How nice of her to leave me all alone with a stranger.

Logan approached me with a smile and extended his hand.

I shook his hand, gripping it tighter than any bitch he'd ever met. "Let me guess. You're Logan."

He laughed. "Damn, are you a psychic or something?"

"Oh, you know. I do have my secrets."

"Don't we all? You'll divulge them to me by the end of the night. I'm guessing by your third martini."

I laughed. "Who's the mind reader now?"

Logan smiled. "I too have my secrets."

Logan looked nice. He was wearing flip-flops, white shorts, and a blue linen shirt but as nice as he looked he wasn't Mr. Blue Twill Suit.

What Logan lacked for in looks he made up for in personality. He was funny, charming, and he'd made a good first impression on me, which wasn't easy.

"Drinks?" I said.

"Yes! There's a martini bar in the back. Follow me to drunk!"

In the short time we'd been talking Heather had already ditched me and left into the party with James and I had no idea where she went. Normally that would have pissed me off, but I didn't mind staying with Logan, even though I'd just met him. This was very odd indeed. Score one for Logan.

We entered the main house were a subwoofer slammed out hits from Notorious B.I.G. Memories of high school parties shot at me like drive-by bullets. My-oh-my how I missed those days.

Logan reached back, smiled at me, and opened his hand. Taking my hand he squeezed it tight and led me through a crowd of beautiful people. I was the biggest girl in the party by far, though no one traded a stink eye with me.

We emerged to the kitchen were a small crowd of steely eyed men and women stood in front of a marble slab countertop. One woman leaned in and snorted a fat line of cocaine with a rolled up bill. She pinched her nose and shook her head. "Hot damn!"

What a fucking slut.

This party had it all. Hot guys, hot girls, good music, drinks, and slutty females snorting coke like candy.

Radiohead came on in the living room, where the lead song from Kid A reached an intense vocal crescendo. Logan pulled me toward him and whispered in my ear. "You're not into cocaine are you?"

My eyes widened. "Why? Are you?"

"No. I hate it. I never touch the stuff."

"Good. I've never tried it."

"Don't start. You won't want to stop if you do."

We walked past the white mound of cocaine to the backyard where a man in a black suit and bow tie was making drinks. Logan slipped him a twenty. "One martini for the lady." He slipped him another twenty. "And a Makers for me, neat."

The barman whipped our drinks up at light speed. Logan grabbed my martini and handed it to me. I took a sip. It was much better than the ones I had at Swank.

Logan made a point to look into my eyes. I got the sense that he was one intense dude. "Do you like it?"

I looked away. The only other man to look at me that intensely was Jeff. "It's missing olives but it will do."

Logan began to try too hard. "If you want olives I can get you some. It's no trouble. Really."

"No. It's fine like this. Thank you."

We rounded a corner where a beautiful pool with smooth, rounded contours must have gone on for fifty feet. There was a spa on the side near us that was bubbling and steaming. On the other side of the pool was an infinity edge, where the water dripped off the side and gave the appearance that the entire pool blended into the horizon.

A man with a cut, fit body wearing nothing but a speedo stepped out of the spa. His body was rippled and steaming. As he stepped into the light to grab a towel I recognized him instantly. It was Mr. Blue Twill Suit. Destiny had brought us close again but would it keep us that way?

Logan looked out at the orange streetlights and home lights down in the valley. "It's beautiful up here, isn't it?"

My eyes weren't on the streetlights. They were on my mystery man. "Yes. Yes it is." Sure, the view of the valley was beautiful, but not better than the view of Mr. Blue Twill Suit with his clothes damn near all the way off and dripping wet. My fantasies hadn't done him justice at all. He was way, way hotter in real life.

There was an aching throbbing sensation in my groin that only he could stop. If only.

Logan turned to me. "Do you want to go swimming?"

"No. I'm ok." I was too fat to be comfortable in a bathing suit around regular people. And definitely not perfect people.

"Are you sure? I can get you a suit. Don't be self-conscious, it could be fun."

I snapped. "Excuse you? I didn't bring my suit. Ok?"

"That's fine. No big deal. I'm sorry I mentioned it."

My panties melted as Mr. Blue Twill Suit fixed his towel over his speedo, walked toward me, and eye fucked my body. He stopped in front of Logan and I. "I know you, right. From Swank?"

Anyone within earshot could hear my stomach turning in knots. I feigned surprise. "Yea. Yea I remember you, I think. What night?"

"It was last night. How many martinis did you end up having anyways?"

"A few too many, obviously. It's good to see you again."

He extended his hand to me and I shook it. "I'm Jordan Wright, welcome to my home."

"I'm Amanda Jacobs. You're home is... interesting."

He ignored me and looked at Logan. "Is she with you?"

Logan stammered. "No, Jordan, we just met."

Jordan nodded. "Really? You two seem... cozy."

"He's right," I said. "We just met tonight."

Jordan smiled at me and looked back at Logan with a tense stare. "How are you enjoying the party?"

"It-it's good. Really. I'm having fun."

Jordan scratched his chin. "Strange because I don't see you entertaining any clients. This is business just as much as it is pleasure. You know we need to be selling them. And I don't see you selling them."

Logan looked to the ground. "But Jordan."

"But what? Don't forget that I'm the one that signs your bonus checks. Just because you made ten million last year doesn't mean you'll scratch six-figures this year."

Logan was pissed. "I'm having my best year ever."

Jordan shrugged. "But I want more."

Logan looked away. "You're right, Jordan. I'm sorry." He then panned over to me. "We'll catch up later, yea?"

I nodded. "Of course." But not really, Logan getting emasculated by Jordan pretty much turned me off. He should have at least stood up for himself a little more, but instead he just sat there like a punching bag not the war hero I was sold.

Logan forced a smile and walked back into the party. Jordan moved closer to me, his eyes eyeing mine like a hawk. "I distinctly remember asking you to dance."

I blushed. "And I...I distinctly remember you disappearing. Don't you have clients to entertain?"

He shrugged. "That's why I have people like Logan. He's one of my salesmen. I've made him rich many times over but no matter how rich he gets he'll never have what I have."

"And what's that?"

"Power."

Jordan had power all right. He had the power to make my pussy drip without even touching it. "What is it you do?"

"I own and operate a hedge fund called Jordan Wright & Associates. We are a boutique fund specializing in highly speculative trades with just about $3 Billion in assets under management and looking to grow."

My eyes doubled in size. "What do you hedge, bushes and lawns?"

Jordan laughed. "Are you trying to be clever?"

I smiled. "Maybe, though it's an honest question."

"We invest in stocks, bonds, and other securities. About last night I do apologize for leaving you, but I had business to attend to."

"Oh really? What could be more important than dancing with me?"

Jordan laughed again. "You're a ballbuster, aren't you?"

"No, really though, I'm curious to what made you vanish without a trace."

"A billion dollar gold trade going the wrong way in the after-hours futures market, that's what. And I'd do it again."

Jordan was intense. And that intensity was turning me on. Fuck the money that was just a bonus. Jordan was the kind of man that did what he wanted, said what he wanted, and fucked who he wanted. And I just hoped he wanted me.

Jordan took my hand. "Why don't let you let me show you around?"

With my palms sweaty I smiled. "Please do."

TO BE CONTINUED AT YOUR FAVORITE RETAILER

