Billionaire Twins: Two The Hard Way (2 page)

I get all the pussy I need right here in my office and I don’t have go looking for it like Brian. 

I’m waiting for Monica. She’s worked here for two years and I’ve yet to see her. It says in her file, that she’s one of the best legal researchers money can buy, and we got her cheap. She had top grades and she was an editor for the Law Review, and she was asked and accepted as an editor. She has rigorous training. After reading that I can’t wait to see her.

There’s a photo attached; just a head shot. “Fuck me, she’s hot. How did I miss her pretty ass?” I mumble and slip the picture in my drawer. I call my secretary and tell her to send Monica in. I like to keep them waiting a few minutes and get them nervous, so when I approach them they’ll do what I ask.

I know I have a look that makes their panties wet. There are many good-looking men around, but not many single young billionaires. I know I’m arrogant and full of myself. It comes from dealing with people with a lot of money and I know how to make money, and the women like me for many reasons.

Monica walks in my office a little shy. I get that reaction from women. I have to tell her twice to sit. She wants a partnership in my company. I can’t give it to her. She deserves it but then I couldn’t keep her at this ridiculous salary, I won’t be able to control her movements and I won’t be able to fuck her because after seeing her, my dicks wants here, and when it wants a woman there is no controlling me or it. I gaze at her breasts and I want to suck those brown nipples. The thought of it is making me hard. But that’s not what turns me on.

I can see my white dick in her brown pussy and shit I want to explode and fuck her now.

Staring at her, I tell her she can’t have the job. She appears disappointed. Her cute full mouth can’t hide her displeasure and I know I’m a heartless bastard. I can see it on her face. She’s calling me all kinds of bastards and all I can think about is, fuck me Monica, sit on my face and let me put my tongue in your pussy.

When she walks out, I know I have to do something so I order her a dozen roses. I call my brother Brian. I tell him everything. He’s my twin and he feels things that I feel. He even said he could tell when and the time I had an orgasm. I thought he was full of shit until the same thing happened to me. I had an orgasm with no woman around and sure enough, I called him, and he was in bed fucking a woman. Now that was scary. I had heard of things like that but I didn’t believe it until now.

Brian and I have our separate apartments in Manhattan but we co own the Mansion in the Hamptons our parents left us. Occasionally I drop in on him and we drink and I might sleep over with us trading stories about women.

“Brian. How is the banking business going. Foreclosed on any old ladies, and fucked any good or bad young women lately?”

“Hi, bro. You fucked any lately?”

“No. but I plan to.” That’s our running joke. “Brian, we haven’t gotten together in a month. How do you feel if I drop in on you Saturday night? We can order in, drink, shoot the shit, and maybe have time to go pick up some unsuspecting women at a club. Maybe get one and fuck her senseless. Do her together. What do you say?”

“Sounds like a great Saturday night to me,” Brian says laughing. “I have something to do so make it later. I know a private club that stays open all night.”
But he has taste that may not be to my taste,
I’m thinking. He’s into bondage and fucking women from behind, although he swears he has never done that. There is gossip in certain circles throughout Manhattan that he does. But like anything else, some of it is true and the rest is wishful thinking. Take me, rumors have been circulating that I have fucked every woman in my office.

I’ve only fucked the young and willing. And I always give those presents so they don’t feel bad.

Monica is something different. I can’t wait to strip her panties off her full brown ass and suck her breasts.  

R
ushing back to work, and hiding in my small office, I’m so angry. I won’t be moving up to the higher floors. My day has just been ruined by that handsome fuck of a man. He’s probably in there now fucking. Somehow I feel a little jealous, and I wish he had fucked me and gave me a promotion. I look in the mirror and check myself out. What is wrong with me?

You go to school half your young life and you want a promotion that way? Yes, what’s wrong with that? Half the women in town are fucking their bosses to get ahead and then they marry them. That can’t be good.
I argue with myself as I completed the research.

I know what’s wrong with me. I haven’t had a date or had a man fuck me since college and he doesn’t count because that was in his office, and it took all of a second for him to wet his wick, and then he was out of me, and telling me I will be late for my class. That was a stupid mistake to fuck the professor who was fucking every freshmen he could get his hands on. And the whole time I’m thinking I’m his special girl.

I find out later that he even had an invalid wife that no one knew about. After that, I was careful who I laid with. No one for the last four years. I think that maybe a record.

It’s lunch time and I didn’t get much done. I call my friend Zoey who works in this artist studio. “Zoey how about lunch.”

“I was just thinking about you,” she says to me. “You finally decide to chill and relax for lunch. You have been busting your butt in that office for two years. Did everything go well with the promotion?”

“Not exactly. There’s good news and there’s bad news. Which do you want?”

“Can you wait until lunch? We’re have a showing at the Museum of Natural History Saturday and I have to get these paintings loaded up and tagged. It’s more like a benefit. The paintings will be auctioned off and there’s a dinner. It’s a great place to meet rich men.”

I don’t want to see another rich fuck,
I’m thinking.

“Can you meet me in the village at this outdoor café? You know the one,” I say to Zoey. I had an hour for lunch and I packed my purse and put on my shoes. I could get a cab easy in this part of town. The cab ride would be cheap, if not, I have a charge card I didn’t like to use.

Before I step out my office, a delivery guy knocks on my office door. I open the door and he’s holding a large bouquet of red roses. I’m thinking, who the fuck gave me roses? No one I know because if they knew me they would know I don’t like red roses. I grab them in a hurry, place them on my desk, and rush out.

I stand by the elevator and hit the button because I don’t have time to waste. I have to get to the east village before twelve-thirty in order to enjoy my lunch. The elevator opens and it’s going down. In the back is Ross Westlake. Our eyes meet and I lower my gaze because I don’t want him to see how pissed I am with him. Since he owns this firm it’s not a good idea to show my displeasure. I say, “I’ll take the next one.”

Now I will be extra late. After ten minutes or longer the elevator opens up and no one is on it but me. Why the fuck didn’t he take his private elevator?

Meandering through a crowd of hungry people during lunch time is not my idea of a lunch break especially when I may have to scoff the food down in a hurry.

When I step out the doors, I look around for a cab. Parked in front is a limo, the window slides down and sitting comfortable is Ross. “Can I drop you somewhere, Miss Adams?” I want to say you can take me home, and fuck me, and then maybe I’ll get that partnership. At this moment, I wasn’t too proud to fuck my handsome boss for a chance to get ahead.

But, I was too proud. Pride goes before the fall they say.

“No.” “There’s a cab,” and I take off running, hand in the air yelling and flagging it down. I didn’t tell him thank you. Why should I?”

When I arrive at the little bistro and order a large bowl of Boston Clam Chowder and a basket of rolls I feel better. Zoey had ordered us a nice glass of Chianti.

“The drinks are on me. I just sold a painting and my commission is well into the six figures.” She had done well since she decided not to pursue a law degree.

She glances at me staring into my glass of wine. “What is the matter Monica?”

I didn’t want to cry. The tears pool in my eyes but I fight them back. “I didn’t get the partnership I expected. That’s the good news,” I said holding back the tears. “The bad news is I still have a job, and I hate my boss.”

“Everyone hates their boss. Now drink up and maybe you’ll get fired and that will serve them right. Who is the ass hole who wouldn’t make you a partner?”

“Ross Westlake.”

“Oh him. Everyone in Manhattan knows about him. He likes to fuck his female partners, interns, and law clerks. Apparently he missed you. Maybe it’s because you were hidden away in that closet of an office and worked your ass off thinking that that was all it took to get ahead. You were lucky he couldn’t find you to plow that enormous cock inside you.”

I would have liked the opportunity to tell him no.
I thought.

“That dick of his is infamous. It should be given its own space in a cock museum.” Zoey says laughing and drinking.

“Do they have such a thing as a cock museum,” I ask taking a drink of my wine.

“Just making a joke to get a laugh out of you, Monica. Cheer up.”

By this time I was drunk and feeling better about my situation. Zoey kept saying for me to drink up and help her celebrate, and when I looked up, it was three thirty. I panic and rush out to the street to hail a cab. It took twenty minutes to get one. It was the busiest day because something happened in the subway with people rushing for cabs, and it was Friday and some people were leaving early from work.

W
hen I arrive in front of the impressive twenty story office building with its glass and chrome façade with Westlake written in gold letters, it’s almost four o’clock, and people are milling about ready to go home. I’m walking in and I recognize some of the attorneys working in my office, and they are leaving. I try hiding my face, lowering my head, and rushing to the elevator. I’m hitting buttons as I wait which doesn’t make it come down any faster. All the elevators are occupied. Finally the elevator opens. I stand a few minutes to see if I recognize anyone getting off and I turn as if I’m looking around and then I hear a voice behind me.

“Aren’t you getting on this time, Miss Adams?”

I turn to gaze into Ross’s startling bluish green eyes. I turn back not answering and step into the elevator and he walks behind me. I’m beyond nervous because I feel his eyes on me the whole time. “Don’t you like elevators, Miss Adams?” I turn peering through a man and woman to see him. I give him a closed smile and turn back facing the door. I couldn’t talk because he made me uneasy. I counted the floors because I would get off before him and it appears that the elevator took forever to make it to the fifteenth floor.

The people riding with us stepped off on the fourteenth floor. It was just he and I standing there, and then for some unforeseen reason the elevator came to a stop in between floors. Did he do that? No way. I didn’t see him touch anything. Why couldn’t he take his private elevator, I kept thinking? I stood with my hand on my purse trying to act calm but I was anxious.

“Did you enjoy your lunch?”

“Yes, I did. As a matter of fact it was the best day I’ve had considering...”

“Considering I didn’t want to make you a partner in my firm. I sent you flowers to apologize.”

“I don’t need an apology and I don’t particularly like flowers.” I turn looking him in his gorgeous face. I didn’t know where that came from. My voice was salty and cold. Then the elevator jerked and I fell in Ross’s arms. He held me and I felt the pulse of his penis through my skirt. It was rock hard. I pulled my self away and turned avoiding his handsome face. My breathing heavy and his extreme.

I could see how a man like that could turn every woman’s head and have her panting and begging to have him in her bed. This is an extremely handsome man and if he wasn’t such a cock hound he would be damn right appealing. It wouldn’t take much to lie down with him but knowing his reputation, there was no way I would pull my panties down for him not unless he forced me.
Well he wouldn’t exactly have to force me.
I thought.

The elevator stopped at my floor. I stepped out and he put his hand in the door to prevent it from closing. “Miss Adams,” I turn listening to his voice. It’s low and seductive. Maybe he didn’t want anyone to hear him. “I will need to see you in my office. You were an hour late coming back from lunch. You owe me an hour. Be on time.” And the elevator door closed.

I open the door to my office and glance at all the papers I have to read and the research that wasn’t completed. Maybe I can call him and tell him or his secretary that I have work to complete. I give him time to get to his office, sit down, and prepare for me, then I call his secretary. No answer.

Dialing his private line I thought he wouldn’t answer but he did. “Mr. Westlake, I have research papers to complete and if you want me to have it done by tomorrow I will have to work late tonight. I can be here early Saturday morning.”

“Miss Adams when I give you a directive, I expect you to follow it. You will be in my office in five minutes ready to work.” He hangs up the phone. He didn’t sound happy. I couldn’t afford to lose the job so I left everything and took the elevator to the executive floor at the very top.

I walk down the hall and stand in front of his door for a moment, but it feels like an hour. I’m asking myself what am I going to do if he makes a move on me. I knock and he opens the door. I follow him into his office. I’m still standing. He doesn’t ask me to sit this time.

“I wasn’t aware that you didn’t like flowers, Monica. Maybe you would like a pair of Tiffany earrings.” He walks over to his desk opens the drawer and pulls out a box and presents the box to me. I look down and don’t take it. He opens the box and there are two perfect pear shape earrings two carets each. I look at them and I’m floored.

“I can’t take that. They’re too expensive.” I would kill for a pair of diamond earrings. Yet I’m returning the present. Every woman has a price and I can be bought. But I need to know who is buying me and what he expects. The only thing I know about this man is he is hung and fucks like a race horse out to pasture on a stud ranch.