Trysts and Tycoons

Ashlynn Rivers
17 mins read
Published about 1 year ago

“How much does a baby polar bear weigh?” 

The smoky voice came from somewhere behind me. I set my drink on the bar and took a deep breath. There was a ball of frustration churning in the pit of my stomach, leftovers from a hellish day at work. Lord help the man who dared disturb me before the first drops of martini had hit my lips. 

I crossed my legs, and plastered on my best “fuck off” look as I swiveled on the barstool, But by the time my eyes finished their journey up a chest molded after a Grecian God and landed on a face that made my heart falter in its primary function, the look had slipped away. 

I was met with full lips quirked amidst a dusting of five o’clock shadow. Eyes of a startling sapphire blue held mine from beneath a sweep of unruly black hair. Behind my eyes, an image of his lips traveling over the skin of my stomach flashed. I could almost feel the rasp of his whiskers against my flesh. 

I swallowed. Hard.

“How much does a baby polar bear weigh?” I parroted in response. Heat jetted down my limbs when his smile grew wider.

“Well, they weigh just enough to break the ice.” He held out a hand. “Hi, I’m Jayce McPherson.”

Helpless to his charm, I grinned back and placed my hand in his. His grip was firm. In breaking with the norms of a handshake, his thumb lingered, rubbing the inside my wrist. Electricity crackled up my arm. “Harper Smith.” I suppressed a shiver and added, “Congratulations, Jayce McPherson.”

“Congratulations?” A midnight brow arched in question.

“Yes, you’ve just won the award for Worst Pickup Line of the Year.”

He considered for a moment, white teeth sinking into a kissable bottom lip, otherworldly eyes narrowing. I began to ache just watching that mouth. 

“The coveted WPLY,” he grinned, “I’m both incredibly honored and adequately humbled.” 

I couldn’t stop the throaty laugh that bubbled, almost unrecognizable, from my chest. I leaned forward in my seat, a flush rising above the V of my blouse. Jayce’s eyes traveled over the exposed flesh, heating it like a touch. I squirmed in my seat. 

Jayce didn’t miss my unease. A flash of desire darkened his eyes, and he took a small step forward. I realized our hands were still clasped. “Join me for a drink?”

“I’d love to.” I began to turn back towards the bar, but he pulled me to my feet. He was tall; even in my heels, my nose came only to the hollow of his throat. There was a spicy, natural male smell to his skin. I wobbled, the potent combination of desire, and alcohol causing my head to swim. 

“I have a table over there.” He inclined his head towards one of the dark, private alcoves. 

“Hmmm,” I looked up at him through my lashes. “I thought those were reserved for the very important and wealthy.” 

He just smiled and cupped my elbow in his palm, steering me through the crowd of bodies congealing at the bar. 

“Those things usually go hand in hand.” His lips skimmed the curve of my ear when he leaned down to speak over the music and incited a wave of goosebumps over my body. The night was ramping up. It was Friday in Vancouver, and around us, people shed their severe weekday facades and began oozing the energetic excitement of the week’s end. 

“Allow me to welcome you to my establishment.” He gestured wide to the room with a flourish of his arm, narrowly missing a female patron who cast him a dirty look. The glare fell away as quickly as mine had when she looked at him. Jayce didn’t seem to notice.

I looked up at him in surprise. “You own this place?” 

“Mmhmm,” he purred, his lips still against my ear. My eyes threatened to roll back in my head at the sensation of his breath on my neck. The hand with which he steered me across the crowded floor migrated from my elbow to my hip. The heat of his skin was seeping through the material of my high waisted pencil skirt. An image of Jayce on his knees before me, pushing the skirt up around my waist, flashed through my overzealous imagination and my step faltered. Jayce’s body collided with mine, both his hands settling on my waist to steady us. 

He led me all the way to a table with a gold plated Reserved sign in the middle and stood back so I could slide into the leather booth. He then followed me in, the muscled length of his thigh settling against mine. With a wave of his hand, he signaled for drinks. 

“So,” I turned my body towards him, leaving my leg where it was, “why would a guy like you feel the need to break out what could possibly be the most ridiculous pickup line I’ve ever heard?”

Jayce shrugged a broad shoulder. “Isn’t that what guys do?”

I lifted my glass to my lips, relishing the heady warmth of the booze against my tongue. Studying Jayce over the rim for a moment, I swallowed and set the glass on my coaster. “In my limited experience, rich, drop-dead gorgeous men who own beautiful bars in the heart of the city, are usually above the questionable standards of regular pickups.”

Some of the playfulness left his blue eyes. He tipped his head, watching me through a frame of ink-black lashes. “You looked sad. Or maybe a little lost. I wanted to make you smile.” 

I did so then, allowing the magnetic pull of him tug me closer. “Mission accomplished, thank you, for distracting me.”

“I’m good at distracting.” He winked, another move that should have come across skeezy, but instead made my stomach flip. “So, were you? Sad?” 

“No,” I shook my head, causing long strands of my hair to slip down around my face, “only stressed. I’m here on business and today was a long, to put it lightly.”

“Do you get to enjoy the weekend now?”

“Yes, I fly home to Victoria on Sunday.”

One corner of his mouth quirked. “So, no bedtime curfew tonight then.”

I dampened my bottom lip with my tongue, and his eyes tracked the movement, lingering on my mouth. “No bedtime,” I answered.

Jayce had on arm slung across the back of the booth, and at my words, he slipped his hand forward, tangling his fingers in the loose knot that held my hair back. I shivered.

“Your hair reminds me of coffee.”

I couldn’t help it — I snorted. “Coffee?”

Jayce grinned. When he smiled, the business mogul sex appeal fell away and left him a boyish rouge, teasing in a way I found utterly endearing. I was enjoying his company more than I expected. I would sleep with him tonight, that was a given. My body had been tingling with anticipation since I laid eyes on him, there was no sense denying it, but I was also enjoying the opening acts. The enticing wait, the slow unwinding of desire, before the night to come. 

“Coffee — dark, delicious, wonderful to wake up to.”

I laughed out loud. “And Mr. Cheesy knocks another one out of the park.”

His toying fingers journeyed their way through my hair to find the sensitive patch of skin below my ear. He didn’t speak for a moment, only stroking his fingers up and across, staring into my face as my breath shuddered and my lips parted. 

“You have a gorgeous smile. I’ll throw out every ridiculous line in the book if it means getting that smile out of you.” He tipped his body closer, fingers leaving off their play to curve around the back of my neck and guide me in to meet him.

“Besides,” he adds, his breath playing across my moist lips, “just because it was corny doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.” 

I closed the gap between us, brushing my lips across his, feather-soft. His breathing skipped. The hand on my neck tightened and he pulled me the rest of the way against him. My nipples went hard at the press of his chest against mine, and I whimpered into his mouth. He kissed me as if we had all the time in the world. His tongue flicked at my lips, demanding entrance. I acquiesced, meeting him with an enthusiasm that drew a moan from us both. 

“I own the whole place,” he said into my mouth. 

I blinked at him, “Sorry?”

“Not just the bar, the hotel too.”

Slowly, his meaning began to pierce the haze of need muddling my thoughts. “So, you could take me to a room,” I said. It wasn’t as a question. 

He nodded without taking his eyes off my lips. Searching fingers found the hem of my skirt and began to track upwards across my bare legs. My body twitched, desperate for more of his touch. 

Reaching between down between my knees, I pressed his hand up until his fingers cupped my lace-clad mound. The thin panties were wet through, and at the feel of them, Jayce growled. 

“Not just a room. I can show you my room.” 

Dizzy from the pressure of his hand on me, I answered with a groan. Jayce slid from the booth, his fingers hot in mine as he pulled me after him. Once we were on our feet, he crushed me against his body. His erection pressed to my abdomen, and I raised myself to the tips of my toes, lining our hips up, pushing back into him. He gasped and buried his face in my neck, his teeth nipping at my sensitive skin. 

“Now,” he ground out, “before I forget people are watching.”

He spun me, large hands splayed across my hips and began to maneuver me through the thickening crowd. 


Jayce pushed open the door to the suite and ushered me inside under a flurry of desperate kisses. A wall met my back, and he didn’t miss a beat. His fingers scooped under my ass cheeks, hefting me upwards. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my head thumping the frame of a painting as I flung it back, exposing my neck to his raking teeth.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he growled into my collar bone. Kissing and kissing, his lips branded every exposed piece of flesh he could seek out. “I wanted you the moment I saw you sitting there at the bar, so serious, nursing that martini. I wanted to muss you up.” He braced me with his thighs, pinning me to the wall, and yanked my blouse out of my skirt as he said it. “I wanted to be the one to dishevel you. Pull your hair out of that bun and spread it all around your naked breasts.” 

“Do it,” I challenged, nipping at his bottom lip when he bent his head to kiss me again.

He allowed me to drop to the floor then, sliding down the length of his body. When I was on my feet, he kept my back to the wall and began to pull the pins from my hair, dropping them to the floor one by one. My trembling fingers reached for the buttons of his shirt, but he pushed my hands away and went back to work on my hair. When it was loose, he worked his fingers through, spreading it out around my face and neck, tracing the snaking strands down over my chest with his fingers. I arched into his touch, needing more, relishing his teasing, but needing more. 

“Please,” I whispered, “I want to touch you.”

Jayce grinned and kissed my mouth, nipping at my bottom lip before his tongue sought out mine. I scarcely noticed his hands on my own shirt until his fingers skimmed my stomach and fireworks ignited inside me. 

“First, you. I wanted to see you just like this. I worried when I let your hair down it wouldn’t be long enough, but it is, it’s perfect.” He slid a hand behind my back and unclasped my bra, kissing newly exposed skin as he eased the straps down. Once I was naked from the waist up, he positioned my hair in waves covering my breasts, then stroking until my throbbing nipples peeked through the strands. Finally, after my knees began to shake, he bent and pulled each hard nub into his mouth in turn. I moaned, digging my fingers into his own thick dark hair, watching as my flesh left his mouth pink and glistening. 

“I want you,” I panted. Pushing both palms against the expanse of Jayce’s chest, I managed to move him back. Before he could object, I dropped to my knees in front of him and yanked his neatly tucked shirt free from his trousers. With a groan of triumph, I ran my hands over the ridges of his abs. He shuddered at my touch. When I used my nails, dragging them over the taut skin, he quivered and flexed. Jayce hissed and sunk his hands into my hair. 

“Take it off,” I commanded, yanking on the hem of his shirt, the fingers of my other hand going to his belt buckle. The shiny leather pulled free, and I pulled back his fly, the rock-hard length of him straining the zipper. Letting the nails of my pointer fingers scrape along his legs I pulled his pants down. I still wore my skirt, but beneath it, I was soaked through my panties, my thighs slipping against each other as I moved.

He stood before me then in tight black boxer briefs, and I sat back on my haunches a moment to drink in the sight of him. 

Jayce McPherson took my breath away. 

Settling myself before him, I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his underwear and tugged them down. I longed to yank and set him free so I could touch and taste him, but he had teased me so deliciously I indulged my whims by returning the favor. 

“You look so incredible before me like that, with your skirt and heels.” His words ended on a shivery note when I, at last, did away with his boxers. “I want to be inside your mouth.” 

I stared up at him from my place on the floor, his thick cock strained towards my lips. Without breaking eye contact, I blew a gentle breath of air across the tip where a bead of liquid gathered. Jayce’s lips parted, the hand in my hair drawing tight. 

“Please,” he gasped. 

I took one hand from where it had been clutching his thigh and wrapped my fingers around the base of him. Still looking up at him I ran him around my lips once, twice, then began to draw circles with my tongue. 

“Oh, fuck.” His thighs flexed as he braced himself, that guiding hand still tangled in my hair. I pulled him into my mouth, taking as much of him as I could. For a few moments, he remained still, emitting swear words on gasps of air, but I could sense a wildness building in him, stark, animalistic energy coiling in his muscles and gathering in the air around us. I wrapped my tongue around his cock and drew it up, like licking the melting ice cream from around the base of the cone and Jayce came undone. The hand that had secured me pulled me backwards. He left my mouth with a wet pop.

Then I was on my back on the plush carpet, staring up at a stark-white band of crown molding while Jayce was shoving my skirt up around my waist. He threw my high-heeled feet over his shoulders and without preamble tore my lace underwear apart in one rip. I gasped in shock as his head fell between my thighs, and then his hot tongue lapped across the wet lips of my pussy. I cried out at the rush of it. He went to work on my body with single-minded determination. Any and all teasing was over. Before I knew what was happening, my body was turning to liquid. 

“Oh my god,” I gasped, back arching off the floor. “I’m going to…” 

The words trailed off into a wordless cry as I came against his mouth. Every muscle in my body contracted as wave after wave broke over me, then turned to melted butter as I fell back to the floor. Liquid heat dripped over my thighs and bum. My racing heart couldn’t slow; Jayce allowed me no time to recover. 

With a devilish look, he dangled the scrap of lace that had been my panties in front of me. “I want to tie you up with these.” 

I tipped my chin, “What do you say?”

“Mmmm, please?” he purred.

I shivered, “You may.” 

He flipped me onto my stomach with rough hands and pulled my arms behind my back.

Soft material wrapped my wrists. I groaned at the sheer, fucking sexiness of it. At the anticipation that made my post-orgasmic limbs began to tremble anew. Leaving my heels on, Jayce tugged my skirt off. I heard it hit something as he flung it away. Aside from the red pumps, I was bare before him; trussed up and helpless. I had never been so turned on in my life and I told him so. Without warning, his palm came down on my ass with a smack, and then he was against me, pushing inside the wet clench of my body and filling me. The carpet muffled me as I cried out. 

“Good god.” He held himself still, waiting as my body adjusted to the weight and girth of him. When I began to squirm, seeking more, he tugged me against his thighs, angling my hips up. I sobbed. Facedown, pulled back as I was, meant the head of his erection rested against my g-spot. I shimmied a bit, letting my ass cheeks jiggle as I drank in the delicious sensation of him pulsing inside me. 

“Oh shit, do that much more, and I will come before either of us is ready.” Jayce seized one of my ankles, to steady me, or him, I wasn’t sure. I shook my ass once more, to remind him that he wasn’t entirely in control. He let out a groan that seemed to come from the bottom of his soul. 

“You’re a naughty girl,” he murmured, and the sound of his voice tugged something deep inside me, releasing a rush of liquid around his cock. Jayce chuckled, “You like it when I talk dirty to you, do you?”

I moaned and nodded, the carpet rough against my flushed cheeks.

“Good, my dirty little slut, I’m going to fill you with my hard cock until you scream.” Every word was accentuated with a hard thrust. Sparks and tingles rushed over the backs of my legs, through my ass cheeks, settling low inside my belly. 

My clit was still throbbing from the first orgasm he’d given me, and it was intensifying once more, brimming up inside me. One of Jayce’s hands was planted between my shoulder blades, pinning me down, the other was wrapped around my bound ankles. His breathing stuttered and caught, his rhythm losing some of its punishing steadiness, turning more frantic. He plunged then, seizing me by both hips and came with a tearing gasp. I cried out, following him down, my body clenching around his until we both collapsed into the floor. 

Jayce’s weight pinned me down, forcing what little air I had left from my lungs, but I was reluctant to push him off. I turned my face to the side, trying to look at him. It felt comfortable, and somehow normal, to have his body crushing mine, but at last, my lungs screamed for air.

“Can’t. Breathe,” I hissed. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He rolled away, and my lungs inflated, A/C cooled air rushing across the sweat-slicked skin of my back. Jayce watched me as I flipped over, his eyes taking in my nakedness. A mischievous upturn began at the corner of his lips. 

“I like that you aren’t shy,” he said, reaching out to run a fingertip from the damp crevice between my breasts all the way to my navel, which he poked gently and smiled, “I can’t stand when a woman instantly gets up and covers herself.”

I had been considering searching out my underwear, but the look in Jayce’s eyes stirred a wildness in me, embodied not only by the ache persisting between my legs but by an unfamiliar need to be someone else for the night. 

No, not someone else. . . Myself. Completely myself. When had that ever happened with anyone, let alone a stranger? 

Jayce yawned and slipped an arm under my head, pulling me to his shoulder. Below the layers of skin and muscle, sinew and bone, his heart slowed its frantic pace. 

“So,” he said nuzzling into my hair, “tell me what brought you to town.”


More from Ashlynn:

Arrivals
Strangers

AR
Written by
Ashlynn Rivers

Ashlynn Rivers has a passion for bringing words to life, the sexier the better! She's an avid bibliophile, caffeine connoisseur, and is living her own sexy fairytale with the love of her life.