The Accountant

Chapter 1 Window Shopping

Beau

Damn! Another worthless weekend. She had been gracing bars for a fortnight and still nothing. No

tingles. No sparks. No instant attraction. It was either the man was gay or he was an asshole. Or both.

Being a twenty-three-year-old, almost, hermit virgin was quite frustrating. All she wanted was a man

she was attracted to, to help rid her off of the thin membrane in her pussy. Her cherry. She frowned.

She sounded like a college slut chick. But really. Was it too much to ask? Most girls lose it at prom

night these days.

She was not that pretty and she was not that ugly either. For her sins, she was a bit choosy. Well, who

wouldn't want a hot hunk to ride?

And of course, she was not stupid. Far from it. She had no ambition to be raped by a random guy or a

psycho lurking in every part of San Francisco. Nor does she wanted to meet someone from a social

media platform. And discover a grandpa pretending to be Liam Hemsworth. It may or may not have

happened once. She shuddered at the memory. Not a good one.

She wanted it in her own terms. That was the main reason she was here, window shopping. Getting the

feel of the place, so to speak.

The new establishment she had decided to visit this fine Saturday evening was posh. Clearly, all the

elite and famous had opted to converge on the same venue. This looked promising. She hoped.

She knew she was attractive and on her best days, passable pretty. Tonight, she even felt beautiful in

her Versace gray-silver dress. Specifically purchased to attract the opposite sex. It accentuated her

round bust, tiny waist, flat midriff, and long tan legs. All the necessary bait.

Way back in uni, she tried to do it with a college jock. The guy was buff and handsome. Although she

felt nothing for him, she had convinced herself to just go for the heck of it. She did and didn't chicken

out.

With her eyes counting the luminous stickers in her dorm ceiling, the jock in between her legs trying to

put on a condom on his average dick, she waited. And waited. Then nothing.

When she looked down, he was done, coming in the rubber. She kicked him out from her room,

disgusted more with herself than him. The next day, it was all over the campus and she was celebrated

as a frigid nerdy bitch. She never attempted to try the humiliating experience again.

She had better things to do. Which she did.

In under three years, she finished her degree before she reached twenty. She had never been more

proud of herself. Practicing freelance employment was the name of the game. She was her own boss

and she owned her time. All she had to do was meet deadlines and that was it. Until a few weeks ago.

At twenty-three, single and alone made her lonely. Perhaps. Maybe. She can have a child of her own.

No, she was not interested in relationships and picket fences. Just the baby. Why not?

She had lots of money and she owned a picturesque cottage. Even though she grew up almost alone,

she knew she could be a great mother. I think!

She knew it was a bit cold-blooded to use a man, but again, why not? Men had been using women for

the same purpose.

Shit! Enough of the sappy mood. She needed a man. Specifically, a cock. And ultimately a sperm

donor. And she desperately needed to experience a mind-blowing orgasm she had only read in novels.

She hoped it will happen tonight while she was ovulating. Or she will have to do this all over again next

month.

She swept a swift glance around the dimly lit interior. Nothing. Sighing heavily, she turned her attention

to the cute bartender.

"Another drink, Ms.?" His interest in her was noted. He had been flirting on and off since she came in.

Giving him a thin smile, she nodded.

"Dry martini, please." She hardly drank but she needed courage. Not with the bartender, with whoever

will catch her fancy tonight.

So it would not be mistaken the interest was mutual, she turned her scrutiny to the dimly lit interior once

more.

The place was packed. Men in casual. Women barely dress with come hither looks. Some grinding on

the dance floor. Some have chosen partners for the evening. Good for them.

Beau was about to order another drink when someone caught her attention near the entrance. Her jaw

dropped and she blinked. Hot damn! He looked like a god. All arrogant confidence like he owned the

world.

Very tall and heavily muscled under his black Armani. His perfectly tailored suit fitted his perfect

physique, molding his thighs, his tapered abdomen to his wide chest and broad shoulders. Her

widened eyes reached his chiseled jaw, well-defined nose, and sharp gaze, she sucked in a sharp

breath. Awareness flickered her suddenly sensitized skin. He was so freakishly beautifully attractive, he

took her breath away.

She didn't realize she was blatantly eye-fucking him until their eyes collided across the room. For a

moment, people around them faded and it was just the two of them. His dark gray orbs had a hard glint

in them. His tightly clenched jaw was ticking. Her cheeks burned from humiliation. He caught her

looking at him boldly and he doesn't like it one bit. His displeasure reaching her across the room.

The first man she was totally attracted to and he doesn't want her. What the hell! Life was so unfair.

Who was she kidding? The Adonis can have any woman he wanted. Men like him only had to crook his

finger and women will come to him crawling on their knees. And it was obviously not for her. She was

not that desperate. Yet.

She decided to stay a few more minutes and go home. It was a stupid stupid idea anyway. She wasted

two weekends instead of earning more money.

Yes. It was time to move on and forget the hot crazy attraction she felt for the man. If only. She mentally

shook her head and her chin firmed.

Licking her wounds --her pride was wounded-- she went to the dark corner of the dance floor instead,

near the exit sign. She knew about saving face. One dance and she will kiss this place goodbye.

Enjoying the beat of the music, she indulged. Eyes closed, hips swaying. His face kept popping in her

head. God! Go away.

She tried to think of other things and distract herself to avoid looking at him again. It was useless. She

really wanted that man. Seriously. There was a throbbing need inside of her she couldn't forget. Her

thighs clenched unconsciously. She knew she was moist down there.

The music was about to end and she had made up her mind to go home. She gasped audibly when her

back was pulled to a harder frame, strong hands surrounded her swaying hips guiding her rhythm. Her

whole body stiffened, she was about to give him a piece of her mind. Nobody touches her without her

consent. Hot air tickled her skin and the man behind her bent his head to kiss her neck. Then lick it.

She shivered.

"Are you dancing for me,

moya lyubov?" He murmured, cruising his lips on her heated skin. Oh, God! It's him. She knew it was

him. She didn't have to turn her head to look at him. She had no idea why but she was sure. "Hmm..cat

got your tongue, baby?"

Confidence Beau. This was her only chance to get laid. To him, no less. She cleared my throat. "What

if I am? Dancing for you."

Her voice came out breathless. He pulled her closer until she felt his hard length grinding above her tail

bone. She responded by gyrating her hips. He cursed something in a foreign language, then he

groaned. Good. He was affected as well.

"Fuck! I want you." His voice was gruff with arousal. To give them a bit of privacy, he pulled her deeper

into a dark corner. She faced him this time. With no space between them, he looked down at her,

searching her eyes. His were still glinting hard, however, it was also filled with lust.

Tentatively, she laced her arms on his nape pulling him down, he was tall even with her heels. He must

have caught on what she wanted because he cupped her ass in his hands to pull her up, molding their

bodies before crushing his lips to hers with hunger. He swallowed her moan, plunging his tongue deep.

Exploring her taste. She savored him as well. Sucking his tongue. Tasting a hint of vodka. He was

delicious. Headier than any Martini.

He responded to her ardor by rubbing his rod on her tummy while he kept on massaging her hips and

ass. The hot kiss went on and on until they both had to separate to breathe. Both panting heavily, chest

heaving, her breasts riding below his hard chest, still glued together, no plans to separate until their

desire for each other was fulfilled.

"I..." clearing her cloggy throat, she continued. "I want you." Her voice was a whisper but he heard her.

"We can..." She was about to say they can go somewhere private. He shook his head. Did he change

his mind? He must have seen the disappointment in her eyes because his look softened.

"Not here, detka. My hotel. I want to fuck you all night. And I don't want anyone else to see your

delectable body." God! The way he talked. She nodded her head, aware her cheeks were flaming.

Thank god, the lights were dimmed. It was not the time to be missish.

To her surprise, he hefted her in his massive arms, carrying her to the back exit of the bar. He knew

what he was doing. It was weird to trust him but her instincts do.

Ignoring the hungry gazes of women, she held onto his neck, nuzzling her cheek on his broad chest.

She guessed she hit the jackpot tonight. Sorry, bitches.

The chill in the air caressed her skin, she shivered, he held her closer, sharing his body heat. Beau

closed her eyes savoring his strength.

He barked orders in Russian. Immediately, a car door opened for them and he deposited her gently on

the black leather seat, following her immediately inside, pulling her closer to his body.

"Close the panel, Dmitry." Again, his voice was so commanding and deep, she shuddered in

anticipation. He must have caught on because he pulled her astride his lap, her legs spread on each

side.

"Oh, god!" The short dress she was wearing was folded up to her hips, which he took advantage of by

kneading her buttocks covered in thin silk red lace thongs, the front was no better. His thick length,

covered by his pants was molded to her wet panties which haphazardly covered her slit.

"My name's Dominic, baby. Scream my name when you cum." Since they were now private, the kiss

they shared was unfettered. Hungrier. More desperate. He nibbled her lips, plunging his tongue,

sweeping the crevice of her mouth. His hands were not idle either. He showed her how to ride his Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

length even though they were still fully clothed. It went on and on. Making her lose her mind.

She protested when he lifted his mouth. "We are here, baby." He smirked, noticing her cheeks colored.

She hasn't even realized they had reached the hotel.

He exited first, showing he was a gentleman, he assisted her from the car. However, as soon as her

feet touched the ground, he swept her in his arms again. Ignoring the patrons around them and didn't

even stop at the receptionist, going straight to a private elevator, where a man in all black held the door

open for them.

Three men followed them inside making her nervous. Shit! She hoped she didn't make a mistake. She

does not want anyone else, just him. He must have read her expression because his face hardened.

"I will never hurt you nor share you with anyone, moya lyubov. You are mine and mine alone." There

was a fire in his dark gray eyes that had spoken the truth. She smiled faintly at him, letting him know

she trusted him, it was as crazy as it sounded.

The ding on the elevator informed her they were on his floor. His men held the doors open for them yet

they didn't follow. Dominic carried her to the only set of double doors on the floor. The place looked like

a penthouse. His men bowed their heads, leaving them alone.

Dominic adjusted her in his arms so he can place his palm on a scanner, giving them entry to his suite.

He walked directly to his elegant bedroom with a masculine interior. She never got the chance to

admire the suite.

God! This is it. Her mind was made up. Even if she did, the man holding her possessively will not let

her run away until he had slaked both their lust.

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