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Category: Erotica/Taboo Erotica
Description: Men! Don't they drive you crazy? Drinking, smoking, cheating, scamming, or just emotionally absent. Ever wished they would get their just desserts? Well they do in this new colleciton about women strong enough to make men bow, scrape - and pay! From R. Greco, the dazzling author of Naughty Boys.
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler Editions,
eBookwise Release Date: March 2010

1 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [141 KB]
Words: 32025
Reading time: 91-128 min.

PARTNERS

I was starting to dread these Sunday Brunches. Timothy's bossing had gotten that bad. I could understand his anxiousness, it is difficult to get any new business off the ground, but had I known that Gina's friend was going to be such a stubborn guy, such a hard-ass 'numbers cruncher', such a ... "Have you gone to so-and-so yet?" or "You said you were going to call him Friday." type of partner I would have thought twice before trying to open my bistro with the dark-haired man. I knew I could use the expertise of a good accountant, every caution Timothy repeated was valid, but it was still exasperating sitting across from the man while he scolded, cajoled and accused. I was getting sick of his treating me like a little girl, helpless without his firm resolutions and quick determination. It was time I showed Timothy what valuable asset I could bring to this partnership.

"You were gonna show me those color swatches for the front tables," Timothy reminded me, stopping to turn.

I thought I had lucked out. We had said our good-byes and were walking to our respective cars -- not, of course, without me turning to steal a glance at my partner-to-be's high, tight ass. Once again I damned myself for finding this pain-in-the-ass man so attractive and shaking off the moment, I realized as Timothy walked to me that there never was a time when he didn't have "Oh, one last thing" to question me about. Was I going into business with Columbo?

"I mean, we can't wait," he continued his dark brown eyes pleading. "We have to get..."

"All right, all right," I sighed. "Follow me, I only live five minutes from here."

I had never invited Timothy to my house before, not that we really had any real reason to go. We had been perfectly content to meet for our two-hour 'power-brunches', E-mail ideas and talk on the phone. But now my luck was forcing a confrontation on my turf and as I led the way in my little red sports car I realized that this could be the day I proved some things to dear Timothy. A bubbling idea was forming in my mind, and maybe the combination of the hot day, the slight spunk between my legs leading this man to my house and all the months of resentment were building in me to a point I was actually considering this evil plan.

Timothy was about to really meet his "partner."

The tall guy didn't disappoint me when we entered my home. True to form Timothy began criticizing right away. Without an invite he walked across my thin living-room rug and stood at my mini-baby grand. As he pushed the keys the sound that replied caused him to stand bolt upright.

"Oh God, a beautiful piano like that and it's not tuned?!" the tall man spat as I closed my front door.

God, he had no idea how perfect this all was. My front door shut and locked, Timothy's little cutting remark and the pretty picture of him bending to my piano. I could not submerge this picture of delightful torture in my mind ... not that I would have. Like a stalking cat I stepped to my guest and began, softly, "You are the most spoiled, demanding man I have ever met! Your mommy just spoiled you rotten huh?"

I stopped speaking as the tall man stood and turned fully to me. Looking down Timothy smiled that ingratiating broad grin I was all too well aware of. He often fixed waitress, bank managers, me, anybody he felt worthy of his bemused take on the world with this half-cocked smile. Today though, he would pay well for his smirk and 'tude.

"Look..." I continued. "...we are partners. That means we are equal. That means we share ... but you act like you are the owner and I'm just one of your workers."

"I..." the big man tried smiling down at me.

"Today I'm going to teach you a little respect," I finished, breathing as slow as I could manage. "Or this partnership is over."

"I..." Timothy tried again.

He knew he needed my expertise as much as I needed his. The last thing he wanted was to lose me. Not that any fear crossed Timothy's unlined face then, but I did catch a sudden faltering in his deep eyes, a slight hesitation in his broad shoulders as he stared down at me. "I value our partnership," he replied.

"Good," I said. "Then it's time for a lesson."

"March up those stairs," I ordered in my sternest voice -- or as best I could manage -- standing back from him.

For a minute Timothy just stood there -- probably as shocked by what I had said as I was that I had said it -- his head still bent to me. Then the man simply turned from me, crossed the living room resigned. Up my ten stairs he walked, me behind, both of us knowing that whatever happened next, I was in control! Was I in control?

I guess maybe we both were attracted to each other after all.

"My room's the..." I started as we stood on my second floor landing. The picture I had in my mind, the circumstance, the whole plan was suddenly turned up over-end as one simple and perfect thought struck me. I stopped myself to bark new orders at Timothy:

"We're gonna take a shower."

My stairs end literally at my upstairs bathroom. Timothy peered over his shoulder and without a word walked straight into my tiny green-tiled bathroom.

"Go ahead, I'll be there in a second," I said as Timothy smiled over his shoulder and closed my bathroom door.

Good, now I had a few minutes to think. Timothy assumed the lesson I was about to impart was me being a sexually aggressive woman. There was no denying the heat between us, and now he knew I was damn well interested beyond his business acumen. I guess he just assumed, a tall handsome guy like he was, that sooner or later all women would fall for his spell and we best get the sex out of the way so we could continue business.

But that wasn't exactly what I was planning.

Standing in the hall, hearing the water running, I peeled off my black jeans but left my long, cream-colored button down shirt on. After placing my two-inch heels back on my feet I checked myself in the hall mirror and had to smile at my reflection. There I stood, the very top of my thigh-highs just peeking through the short sides of my tailored shirt. I knew my 'look' would provide just the right amount of tease to torture Timothy.

This entire scene was so sexually charged and I was more than a bit wet standing there thinking about what was about to happen ... or what I hoped I had the guts to make happen. I was fantasizing about Timothy's lean trim body in my steaming shower, but what was delighting me even more as I tried to slow my breathing, was the idea that this oh-so-in-control man, this seeming confident control-freak was about to meet his match in a most devilish comeuppance. What was best still was I knew in Timothy's cocky mind he thought I had ordered him up these stairs for sex.

"Hey," Timothy said as he heard me enter the bathroom.

It was all I could do not to stare through the high steam, not to peer longingly through the mottled plastic of my shower doors. I could see his sinewy distorted frame, his dark skin, hair, his entire body wet on the other side. I wanted to gaze at every inch, commit to memory the naked body of this man I was about to teach a lesson to.

"Finish up now," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Timothy turned the shower off.

I'd see his naked body soon enough I knew, so as I waited I steadied my gaze around the tiled room and low and behold, I spied ... one of my hair brushes.

"Come on," I said after retrieving the wooden brush from over the sink.

"I was hoping you'd join me," he said.

"Come on out here and see me," I teased.

Timothy slid the glass door to the side and presented himself with a heavy erection. I took a deep breath of the moist air as he looked down at me, trying like all hell to engage me in his manhood, his tight body, his interest in me, as he looked me up and down. I knew he had not expected me to be as dressed as I was but he was much more interested in me noticing him.

Just another in his long list of transgressions, I thought. "Nice" I said, looking to his cock. Timothy stepped from the tub.

"Well?" I coaxed, my heels clicking the tile floor as I retreated a step.

I turned to face my wall-to-wall bathroom mirror as Timothy managed a few short wet steps. He crossed close in front of me, his clean scent filling my nostrils as he moved, his tight wet body nearly too close for my resolve. Hoping to settle my eyes away from his skin for a second, I looked up and over Timothy to my reflection. There was a slight blush to my soft cheek bones, a determined line of smile to my thin lips. The cool pastel color of the shirt contrasted wonderfully with my black thigh-highs, a whisper of my pale thighs visible where that same shirt just touched the top of the thigh highs; and when I turned slightly, my ass outlined perfectly in the starched material that covered it.

"Turn around," I ordered, as the man tried to engage me with his popping wet cock, his cool even smile and broad trimmed body. "Sure, sure," Timothy said, doing just that as he leaned slightly into my bathroom sink.

He was still far from the realization that I was about to beat his ass with the brush. I liked how he hadn't once mentioned the bistro, how he just was going with the flow here, how confident he was in his prowess that the sex would be so wonderful I wouldn't care how it might affect our working relationship.

God, what a guy!

With him pressed up here, me behind him, I would be able to see both Timothy's ass and face as he endured my swats and if he wished to, he could look up to the sexy reflection I presented.

"Lean over, lean over," I coaxed as the big man spread his legs to comply. I felt a few droplets splash me as I stepped back to allow Timothy room to bend as far as he could over the sink.

"Julia, we really don't have..." he began but before he could complete his chuckled protest I brought the brush back then forward to his wet right cheek.

"Ahm," Timothy answered the sloppy swat. I looked at his face in the mirror and realized -- that he then realized -- what I was up to.

"You're gonna learn not to take me for granted," I said and again reached behind me to bring the brush down to his bent ass.