The Sandstone Affair (An Erotic Romance Novel) (8 page)

~~~

The smell of lemon pepper awakens me from my
slumber. For a moment I think I’m still in the blindfold and he’s holding a
lemon, but I realize I can see. Reaching out for Mark, I’m disappointed to find
I’m still on top of the bed naked, and incredibly sore, but he is nowhere near.
The nightstand has been cleaned and the door to the connected bathroom has been
left open with the light on. It’s still evening outside, but it feels like I’ve
slept for days.
Swinging my legs off the bed, I ache from my
midsection all the way up my spine. But it’s a good ache. I smile as I hobble
to the bathroom and fix myself up, putting on my clothes and using the new
brushes, combs and face cloths available. Reset and a little rested, I make my
way through the cavernous apartment following the delicious smell until I
arrive in Mark’s kitchen.
“Handsome, sexy and he can cook. Forget Bruce
Wayne. You’re the most eligible bachelor in New York.”
“Yes, but Bruce does have a nicer car, and a
cool butler,” Mark smiles in a self-deprecating way that is nothing short of
adorable. I want to run and hug him right now, but I’m not sure of all the
rules of this “submission” and decide to wait for him. He just keeps turning
the salmon on the grill and tossing the salad.
“Thank you for the well-stocked powder room,
by the way,” I say coyly. “You might not have a cool butler but some lady takes
care of your bedroom quite well.”
“Wrong on both counts, my dear. You should
stick to editing. Intuition and investigation clearly don’t suit you.”
“Oh really?”

“Since Lucy Conway got married, I contracted
a wonderful ‘gentleman’s gentleman’ to do the cleaning and that is not my
bedroom. That’s my playroom.”
“Well I must say, Mr. Stone, I do enjoy the
game.” I give him the most dazzling flirtatious grin I have and it works. He
looks up from the grill and winks at me then walks over to give me a kiss.
“Salmon and salad in fifteen. Would you like
more of the Riesling or want to switch to something different?”

“You choose,” I say with open arms and an
open heart. I can tell by his body language he likes that answer a lot.
We sit down to dinner at a small table in the
kitchenette, although I can see a much larger ornate dining room through
another door. The food is delicious and the company charming. For a few moments,
I almost forget what I’m doing here in the first place.
“Where did you learn to cook like this?” I ask
hoping he doesn’t find that too intrusive.
“My mom, actually. As you’ve previously pointed
out, I am the second son. So Dad spent most of his time focusing on Blake, and
mom spent her time with me. She taught me how to cook, sew, read poetry and
listen. While my father taught my brother how to rule the world, mom taught me
how to thrive in it. I think I turned out the better man.”
“On that point, Mr. Stone,” I raise my glass
in a mock toast, “I absolutely agree. Speaking of which, what was it you needed
to tell me?”
Mark takes a deep breath and both of us know
that question has changed the entire night. I regret asking it, and yet I need
to know.
“Venture capital is a risky business. I know
you think all of this was handed to me on a silver platter with a love note
from my parents, but the truth is my father left us a company and not much
else. The money I have is the money I’ve made. Some of it comes from Sandstone
Ventures and the rest comes from investments and personal ventures. But, it’s
important to know that my father left us with some very sketchy accounts and
we’ve both worked our way to where we are.”
“Okay, so you and Blake aren’t trust fund
babies. Your point being?” I want to kick myself for being so forward but Mark
wants to stroll down memory lane and I simply want to know how I’m getting Lynx
back.
“We both went to NYU. We both studied business
and finance. Blake was two years ahead of me, so I had the advantage of seeing
a lot his books and coursework for classes I ended up taking later. We weren’t
any closer then than we are now, but we pretended better and helped each other
more. One day a professor asked to see me after class. When I got to his office,
he told me I needed to do better and he was surprised I was so much worse than
Blake.
“I asked him from clarification. I mean, Blake
is not an academic or even a good spreadsheet reader. But, he sure knows his
way around the fine print. Anyway, he pulled out a paper Blake had turned in
years before and showed it to me because he had been using it as a class model.
Blake didn’t write that paper. He cheated. I found out later he had paid
someone to write most of his work. So, he got better grades than I did—which
made my father trust Blake with a larger share of the company, even though we
are both co-presidents. But, I just bit my tongue. Because I knew he cheated,
and I knew someday the company would be rightfully mine.”
At this point we had finished with dinner and
he walked me over to the couch, refreshing our drinks. I want to speed him up
but can’t find the words to ask him to get to the point of this story. I try to
prod him along.
“So, what you’ve discovered to help my case is
that Blake has always been a lying dickhead?”
“No, Julia,” Mark says with a heavy voice. “I
discovered Blake is cheating again. Only this time the stakes are much higher
for everyone.”
“Cheating? What do you mean?”
“I’m doing pretty well,” Mark said as he
gestured around the lush apartment. “But most of the money I’ve made happened
before the economy melted down. I’ve managed to put some of Sandstone Ventures
money into good projects, and I’ve kept my investments in low risk stocks until
we rebound so I didn’t lose much. But I haven’t made a fortune these last four
years—particularly the last two. No one has. Well, no one except one person.”
“Who?”

“Blake. He has increased his tax margin,
added a new boathouse to his upstate property and rented an apartment near the
park for ‘over-nights’ when he claims he is stuck in the city. He purchased a
bunch of high risk stocks and is making big bets on odd things. He’s flush with
cash and playing high stakes at a time when the rest of us are holding our
cards tight.”
“So you think Blake is involved in investment
fraud?”
“I think Blake is embezzling money from
Sandstone Ventures and taking funds from the base accounts we use for
acquisitions and mergers. It’s the money we’re supposed to use to make money. I
think he is gutting our company, and what’s worse, I suspect he is using Lynx
to do it.”
“What? Lynx? My Lynx?” I see red the minute
Mark suggests it. “He’s using my magazine to fuck his own company over and
fired me to do it?”
“It appears there’s some connection between
Lynx and the base accounts at Sandstone. I’m not sure what it is yet. I need to
do more research and I need some information from the inside. Not just inside
Lynx, but inside my own company as well.”
“It’s your company, Mark. How hard can that
be?”

“Plenty. Kenneth Allen is into this up to his
neck too and I suspect there is a third party involved although I’m not willing
to disclose that at this time. So any searching I do needs to be discrete and
that takes time. I’m going to need someone at Lynx to do some digging for me.”
“What are you talking about? We don’t need any
time. We need to go to the police. Tonight. Blake can be arrested by tomorrow
and I’ll be back in my office by the beginning of next week.” I stand up from
the couch and walk to the kitchen counter to set my wine glass and grab my
purse. Mark just stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Julia, sit back down.”
“No! I will not sit down. This is it, Mark!
This is what we’ve waited for. Blake is breaking the law and that’s a matter
for the police. Let’s just file charges and get this ball rolling. We don’t
need to do all this sneaking around. Get the cops involved and let’s get it on
the road.”
“It’s not possible. We do need to do the
sneaking around and we do need to protect both companies while we’re doing it.”
“Look. You’re an investor. I’m an editor.
Neither one of us are equipped for this kind of thing.” I try to use my best
rational argument but I’m also so buzzed by the idea of seeing that fucker put
in cuffs for screwing up my company I can’t sit still. “Cops are trained to do
this stuff. So you do the investing, I’ll do the editing and we will let the
cops do the copping!”
I turn into a hot-headed manic bulldozer. I’m
pacing around his apartment trying to figure out which police station we need
to go to, rambling at about ninety miles an hour about all the ways Blake can
get arrested and everything we need to do. Suddenly Mark stands up.
“Julia, stop!”

“What?”
“Just stop. Sit down.”
“I’m too excited to sit down, Mark. Let’s go
now!”
Mark’s voice takes on the same tone he saves
for the moments he is instructing me sexually—clear, severe and commanding.
“I said sit down.”
I plop on the couch with a thud, the memory of
his strong passion aching in my womb.
“Look,” he says as he takes a turn pacing
around. “First, I don’t have any evidence Blake is cheating, just a gut feeling
and some unusual accounting. Second, I don’t have anything tying Blake’s
ill-gotten income to Lynx. Because he had to have gotten to that money before
he fired you, there’s too much for it to have happened since you were let go. But
I don’t know how he’s using Lynx. I just know he must be. Third, no evidence
and no explanation means no arrest, and it will tip our hand to him that we are
on to it. So, no police.”

“But they can investigate and figure out what
you don’t know which frankly, is a lot.”
Mark gives me a thin-lipped grin through the
comment as if he is enduring my scrutiny purely for altruistic reasons and he
could turn me over and out at any time.
“You have twenty-four days left for the
rejoinder. Do you know how long an investigation into financial crimes takes?
Two to three years.”

“Then why did you bother telling me this if
it won’t help?” I hope that doesn’t sound like mistrust, but I’m so frustrated
to think that that asshole is using my Lynx to make himself richer.
“Because I’m going to need your help getting
inside and knowing what to look for, and I’m going to need you to trust me
while I investigate this myself and get the proof that will help us walk Blake
straight to his jail cell. I’d also like to not have to bail you out any more.”
“Okay,” I say as he sits next to me on the
couch. I look into his beautiful dark eyes and want to melt into him again. “My
assistant Janice is also my best friend. She’s still working there, and get
this—she told me that Blake and Kenneth locked her out of all the financial
systems. She says they’re pawing around my office pretending to look for
resources for Valerie James from Ladies World. But they’re probably moving the
money.”
“Moving it or hiding how they’ve been moving
it,” Mark catches on. “Do you have a way of contacting Janice no matter what?”

“Yes, why?”

“Because I have some ideas about how we can
find out. But, once this goes down, your friend Janice isn’t going to be safe
anymore.”
“It’s a risk she’s willing to take,” I reply
earnestly. I know Janice has my back.
“What about you? What are you willing to risk,
Julia?”
Taking his hand, I place it on my inside
thigh, look directly into his eyes again and kiss him fully, pulling my lips
away in a long, drawn-out motion.
“Everything, Mark. I’ll risk everything.”
Mark squeezes my thigh making me wince and get
wet for him all at the same time.
“Let’s see, Julia. Let’s see right now.”

“We can catch our breath by the pool,” Mark
says and he stands, offering me his hand.
“It’s a little late to head to the pool isn’t
it? I mean, won’t they think it’s odd you’re swimming with the cleaning lady
this late at night?”
“The pool is private. It’s an over-sized jacuzzi,
actually–big enough for about twenty people and six feet deep so your legs can
dangle as you sit on the ledge or use it for hydrotherapy. Besides, the view
from this far up is amazing.”
We walk to the “pool room” and I am awed by
the surroundings. Decorated like a Buddhist meditation room, the wooden planks
lead to a huge pool-like jacuzzi, with deck chairs and small tables around it.
The best feature by far is the wall which is actually a plate glass window
giving an amazing view of the lights of the city.
I gasp, transfixed by the view.
He directs me to take my shoes off in the
doorway to protect the decking, then walks over and climbs in a deck chair
facing the city, pulling me onto the chair with him. He kisses me and plays
with my hair.
“So, we’re agreed. No more talk of this unless
I initiate it or we agree it’s a safe location?” he asks, his finger tracing my
lips. I can understand why he needs assurance. I haven’t made the sanest
choices lately.
“We agree.” I lean over and steal another long
drawn out kiss from him.
“You better be a good girl. Or I might just have
to spank you.”
“I’ll be good,” I promise him back, reaching
down and rubbing his crotch. I feel his cock rising inside his pants and I love
his response to my touch. Sliding down the chair, I get to my goal with the firm
intent of pulling his zipper down with my teeth, only to discover they are
buttons.
“Problem?” He looks amused as I stall one inch
from his member.
“I was hoping to unzip you with my mouth, but
these buttons require more talent than I have,” I confess. He laughs heartily
and tussles my hair with one hand while undoing his buttons with the other,
allowing me to slip his thick cock out in the open and cover it with my mouth.
He moans, leaning back to enjoy the sensation
of my tongue flicking and licking his head. “You
are
a good girl.”
“If you’d care to disrobe a little further, I
can make sure all my goodness shows.”
“You first.” I can’t believe I’m doing this
but I rise and go to the corner of the room where a coat rack and towel holder
are stationed and begin removing my clothes for the second time in one day.
Mark also removes his clothes and returns to the chair erect and ready for me
to continue.
I kneel down then slide my tongue up his thigh
until I arrive at a position where I can take his balls into my mouth one at a
time. Licking, lapping and sucking them while his pleasure echoes off the deck.
The salty, musky taste of him fills my mouth.
I run my tongue up the bottom of his shaft and
rise up to take as much of him as I can in my mouth, my head bobbing back and
forth on his cock, wanting to fulfill all his needs. The pulsing member in my
mouth jumps and moves as my tongue and lips do their work. Just when I think he
is ready to explode, he puts his hand on my head and pushes it back.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, kissing my
cheek. He stands and walks over the stairs leading into the jacuzzi. I follow
but he puts his hand up to stop me. Reaching down, he picks up a rope anchored
to a pool float and begins untying it from the end. It’s a typical nautical
rope and I can’t imagine why on earth he would stop the best darn blowjob on
the planet—if I do say so myself—to fuss with his pool cleaner. He also takes a
small orange tag on a plastic band from the cleaner as well.
He comes back and tells me to face the city. I
see his reflection as he moves slowly behind me, his cock teasing my slit from
behind. He reaches around with one hand and rubs my sore pussy. The pain almost
makes me protest, but the growing wetness urges me to let him continue. I’ll
rest tomorrow.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he whispers
seductively in my ear.
“I’ve already been through this.” I laugh,
hoping he thinks it’s funny. He slaps my naked rear playfully.
“Yes, I recall.”
I put both hands behind me hoping I will feel
his magic fingers pulsing against my clit again very soon. Instead he holds my
wrists together pulling my arms tight and places the plastic orange tag from
the pool float around them, locking them in place. I begin to shake as I
realize he is immobilizing my arms.
“Mark? What are you doing?”
“Trust and submission, Julia.” It’s the only
answer he gives me. As beautiful as the city lights are, I close my eyes and
pray I can live up to whatever his expectation will be.
Mark walks back over to the stairs and picks
up the rope. I feel him behind me once more kissing my neck and nibbling my
ear. His breath in my ear and his body so close nearly lead me to pass out. He
pulls on my arms then I feel the rope going around them, about an inch above my
elbows. He begins looping and spinning the rope around my two arms, binding
them together, and securing the rope.
“Did your mom teaching you knitting too?” I
ask, trying to diffuse my fear with humor.
“I doubt my mother ever knew anything about
this,” he responds but gives me a few more kisses to let me know it is okay to
joke. He pulls and tightens the rope until my arms are locked together in an
inescapable bond. Guiding me by the shoulders, he spins me around. My
fingertips are tingling and I can’t tell if this is nerves or lack of blood. He
rubs himself against my naked body, leaning over to kiss each of my breasts
passionately, stoking the fire below.
“This is called an elbow hold.” I can tell by
his tone of voice that I need to listen very carefully. “It’s a popular form of
arm bondage. The rope is tied above your elbows which pins your arms behind
you. Unfortunately there’s a drawback to the beautiful submissive position. If
I don’t release your arms within twenty minutes, the lack of circulation will
become dangerous, cutting off necessary blood flow from your hands and arms
first and then damaging other parts.”
“Oh…” I say, letting it all sink in.
“Don’t worry. I have an excellent sense of
time.” He leans down and begins nuzzling and sucking my breasts some more. My
arousal is working wonders to quell the fear I feel at this moment. His hands
touch and probe my pussy and I stand there overwhelmed by the sensations.
“Is this really trust, Mark?”
“No. This is submission, Julia,” he replies
politely openly admiring my shape. He takes a deep breath. “This is trust.”
He pushes me into the pool.
I feel weightless for a second and then the
water goes over my head. My legs are flailing, trying to get me back up above
water. My shoulders are jerking but my arms can’t move. Oh my god. He’s
drowning me! I splash and kick hard, my head finally going above the surface. I
try to scream for help but gurgling water comes out of my mouth and I feel my
body going back down to the deep well in the center of this pool.
Then strong hands are around my waist and I am
floating toward Mark who must have jumped in the water after me. He pulls me
above the surface and holds me as I get some air in my lungs.
“What the fuck?”I scream. I lean over and
struggle, wanting to slap him, but with my arms tied behind me, all I can do is
shoulder butt him a bit. He holds onto me tightly as I flail and jabber.
“Fucking bastard, I could have drowned!”
“Shhh,” he consoles me again. “You’re not
going to drown. Not as long as I am holding you up.”
I stop long enough to clear my eyes and take
in the situation. He’s standing on the underwater ledge holding me with
powerful arms as I float in the deep center. He’s right. As long as he holds
me, I’m fine. But if he lets me go, I’ll sink.
Mark kisses me again, our wet lips meeting
together and forming a seal that momentarily takes my breath.
“Now, we really must do something about your
language, young lady.” I feel him adjust his grip so he is holding me from the
bottom. “I won’t have you speaking so coarsely. It’s rude and shows that you’re
out of control.”
How long can his arms last? How long until the
rope has to come off? He’s giving me a lesson in ladylike behavior while my
life hangs in the balance. Maybe he really is crazy. I lean with my feet trying
to put them on the ledge he’s braced to–but there’s no room.
“No cheating,” he chides me a second time. “Blake’s
the cheater, not you.”
I feel his strong legs pushing mine apart
until his hips are right up against me. We are facing each other less than an inch
apart. I look into his eyes for signs of madness and see only desire–his and
mine. One arm lets go for just a second, causing me to gasp, and then returns
as I feel him enter my body.