Sugar Daddies - Jade West Page 0,82

in the mirror.

He smiled a dirty smile, and Rick smiled one too, and I laughed, delirious, gritting my teeth and then begging for more.

Rick gave me more. He fucked himself hard on Carl’s dick as he fucked me, and his cock tightened, started twitching. I felt the strain in his breath.

“Gonna come,” he said. “I’m gonna come, Carl.”

Carl grunted.

“Fuck, Carl, I’m gonna fucking come!”

Carl’s hips slapped harder, faster. He closed his eyes.

“Come,” he groaned. “Now…”

And I felt them, I felt them both. Spasming and thrusting and losing their fucking mind. Carl emptied his balls into Rick as Rick emptied his into me, and it was beautiful.

It was so fucking beautiful.

A pile of heaving, hot bodies, and I was sweating and breathless, pinned to hard marble, but I never wanted them to move.

I didn’t want to be released.

Not now, not in six months.

Not ever.

“Relax,” I said. I reached over to the passenger seat and angled Katie’s back until her shoulders were mine for the grasping. She was tense, her muscles knotty under her suit jacket. She hunched as I worked my fingers, and then she exhaled, loosened up a little. “It’s your first calling week. It takes time to find your feet.”

“I just want to do well,” she said.

Maybe that’s all it was. Maybe the niggle in my gut was wrong, and Katie was just all in with the training programme. Maybe there was a tough little saleswoman deep inside Katie that craved the thrill of the chase and close, and this had nothing to do with pitting herself against her snotty sister.

I got it. Hell, I fucking got it. Sales is a performance-based career, and the pressure builds and fills you up. I’d always been ambitious, consumed by the fire of topping the leaderboard, bringing in bigger deals, better deals, more impressive clients.

But Katie seemed different these past few days. The carefree girl who’d rocked up at ours with that breezy countryside smile on her face wasn’t the one sitting in my car. This Katie was steely and resolute, consumed by the desire to win.

She was changing before my eyes, sacrificing stable visits to listen through her call recordings and pick holes in her performance.

I want to improve, she’d say. What’s the point in giving less than your all? What’s the point in not striving for the top of the pile?

I got that, too.

Still, despite the kinship, I couldn’t help feeling a sense of loss for her somehow, a tainting of innocence. I couldn’t shake the feeling that my training programme had stolen the sparkle of sunshine from her eyes and replaced it with grit and embers.

Katie wasn’t the only one affected. The atmosphere in the training suite was tense enough to blow. Everyone had some measure of fire in their belly, everyone was chasing the win.

Even Verity. Especially Verity.

Whatever words David had shared with his little princess had done the job. She’d been quiet and compliant in the aftermath, her eye on the ball. Grit and embers, another one.

I’m all for healthy competition, but this felt deeper, verging on the unpleasant.

“Today’s the day,” Katie said. “I want a tick by my name on that leaderboard. Katie Serena Smith, ten points, top of the class.”

“And Verity none? Am I right?”

She shrugged. “Why should I care what Verity does?”

I didn’t need to see her face to know she did care. “Forget about the tick on the leaderboard,” I said. “Just focus on the person at the end of the line. Ask the right questions, have a conversation. That’s all you need to do.”

She nodded. “Sure thing, boss.”

“That’s my girl.”

I gave her shoulders a final squeeze and she opened the car door, flashed me a smile.

“Today’s the day,” she said again. “I can feel it.”

It turned out it was Ryan, my early bet, who put the first tick up on the leaderboard. He made a cracking call mid-morning, the right pitch at the right time to a frustrated tech director looking for greater business insight. His face was a picture, pure bliss as he took the winner’s walk up to the whiteboard and made that tick next to his name. I was pleased for him. A young kid at home, his first real shot at a career above minimum wage. I shook his hand and gave him a pat on the back, and the lad looked like he could cry.

It’s a strange phenomenon that things really kick off once that first tick is made. His was followed by another, a sharp girl

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