FILTHY: A Steamy Romance Collection Read online

  He said, “You must be Candice Carlson.”

  I blinked at him for a moment. I glanced down the table at my compatriots. Their eyes were glued to Tanner’s hand dangling in the air between us. He wiggled his fingers. I reached out to shake his hand. When our fingers touched, the pop of static electricity caused both of us to jerk our hands back.

  “Whoa!” Tanner fell back in his chair with a grin on his face.

  I put my hands in my lap and bit my tongue. Did he do that on purpose? Did he drag his feet across the carpet to build up static electricity in his body just so he could make me look like an idiot?

  Who would do something like that?

  Oh yeah, a douchebag…

  “Shocking to meet you, Miss Carlson,” he said with a smirk.

  I forced a polite smile for the sake of the ten-million-dollar contract in Stan’s briefcase.

  “Yes, nice to meet you, Mr. Wright.”

  “Am I?” he asked.

  I blinked at him. “Are you what?”

  “Mister Right?”

  I stared at him with my mouth hanging open, unsure what to say.

  “Okay then, let’s wrap this up,” Costas said suddenly, clapping his hands together like he was breaking a huddle. He pushed himself up from the table and set a hand on Tanner’s shoulder to keep him in the chair. It was the move of a parent trying to control an unruly toddler.

  Tanner’s eyes remained on mine. He gave me a little smile, like it was all a joke that only he and I were in on.

  Costas directed his attention to Stan and put on a serious face. “I assume you’ll be flying to Tucson on Monday to meet with Anderson’s accounting team?”

  “Yes, that’s correct,” Stan said, getting to his feet. His eyes darted between the two men across from him. Costas was looking back at him. Tanner was still looking at me. Stan turned to gesture at his team. “The four of us will be in Tucson on Monday afternoon. The itinerary was already set in anticipation of signing the contract.”

  “We’ll meet you there,” Tanner said. He was still looking at me. Still smiling. It was starting to creep me out. It was also starting to turn me on.

  Was he playing some kind of weird Fifty Shades of Grey game with me?

  Was this his idea of foreplay?

  Was I supposed to rip off my clothes and lay on the table and spread my legs and beg him to fuck me?

  Hmmm…

  I put on a blank face as I filed that thought away for later use.

  “We’ll meet them there?” Costas asked, looking down at Tanner.

  “We will,” Tanner said, finally taking his eyes off mine and directing them toward Stan. “We have meetings scheduled with Anderson’s executive team later in the week. We might as well get an early start.”

  He got out of the chair and gave Costas a nod.

  “Call Anderson and tell them we’ll all be there on Monday instead of Wednesday.”

  “What if they can’t meet on Monday?” Costas asked. His forehead lined as he held up arm and checked his watch. “It’s nearly five o’clock on Friday. That’s awfully short notice.”

  “Then we’ll have to find something to occupy our time until Wednesday, won’t we,” Tanner said, glancing at me yet again. Everyone turned to look at me. I felt myself literally shrinking before their eyes.

  “Okay, I’ll make the arrangements,” Costas said, narrowing his eyes, bouncing them between Tanner and me.

  Shit.

  I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know what Costas was thinking.

  He was going to kick me off the team because Tanner was acting like a fucking teenage boy. I was the innocent bystander at this train wreck, but I would be the one held responsible for running the Tanner train off the track.

  Tanner Wright’s sexploits were legendary, thanks to gossip sites like TMZ and Gawker.

  He had the well-earned reputation of being the billionaire bad boy who had torpedoed billion-dollar business deals because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. And now his childish antics were about to cost me my spot on the team.

  Son of a bitch.

  What a DOUCHEBAG!!

  Well, if they expected me to take this lying down, they were messing with the wrong girl. I set my hands on the table and laced my fingers together and stared at them.

  I could feel steam coming out of my ears. Just let them try to bounce me from the team, I thought. Just let them try…

  Tanner held the ball in front of him and bounced it in his palm. “In fact, there’s no need for you guys to fly out commercial. We’ll all take the corporate jet out together. It’ll be fun.”

  Tanner gave everyone a quick smile, then handed the rubber ball to Costas and left the room, leaving all of us to wonder what the heck just happened.

  Candice

  It was a quiet car ride back to our offices at Goldman & Stern because the other members of my team were as dumbfounded as I was by the actions of Tanner Wright.

  The silence in the car spoke volumes.

  I knew what they were all thinking. They were wondering how long it would take for Stan to boot me off the team, even though I hadn’t done a thing to deserve getting the axe.

  Juliette was sitting in the front passenger seat and Stan was driving. I was in the back seat, scotched between Bob and Irving. Bob stared out the window the entire way back to the office. Irving was sitting up straight with his eyes open, softly snoring.

  Every now and then, I’d catch Stan glancing at me in the rear-view mirror. When our eyes met, he quickly looked away.

  Juliette sat staring straight ahead and didn’t say a word. I could almost hear her teeth gnashing.

  I was sure Tanner’s behavior in the meeting would be the talk of Goldman when we got back and Juliette got the gossip mill started. She’d like nothing better than to see me kicked off the team even though I posed no threat to her. That was just Juliette’s way. She simply didn’t like other women. She was more of a male chauvinist that any man I’d ever met. If she had her way, she would be the only woman working at Goldman, if not the only woman on the planet.

  All I could do was shake my head and bite my tongue. I’d deal with Stan when the time came; which I knew would be soon.

  Tanner Wright’s smirking face flashed into my mind. I could hear the pop of electricity as our fingers touched. I could smell the faint hint of ozone in the air. He had won the Douchebag of the Century Award, hands down. I had never met anyone so cocky and full of himself.

  Fine, he was a hot billionaire with a big bulge in his pants, but did he have to pull me into his silly little game?

  I was completely innocent in all this. It would be remarkably unfair to kick me off the team just because of Tanner’s actions.

  Turned out, Stan felt otherwise. After he parked the car in the underground garage and the others were headed toward the bank of elevators, he asked me to hang back.

  “What was that all about back there?” he asked with an air of accusation to his tone.

  “I have no idea what that was, Stan,” I said, huffing at him. “Probably just another rich asshole jerking us around. Isn’t that the way this works? We’re management consultants. We get jerked around by rich assholes then bill them a thousand dollars an hour for it?”

  “It was more than that,” Stan said, rubbing his chin as he studied me with narrow eyes. “You’ve never met him before, have you?”

  “No, never.”

  “Never had any contact with him at all?”

  “None.”

  I knew where this was going. I’ve never been one to bite my tongue and I was too good at my job to fear losing it, so I spread out my hands and gave it to him straight.

  “Look, Stan, if you’re thinking about bouncing me off this project because Tanner Wright is a flirt, you can forget it. You need me on this team. Nobody knows the digital side of telecom like I do. I’m a consummate professional and you know it.”

  “I know you’re a professional, Candice,” Stan said with a s
igh. “I’m just not so sure about Tanner Wright.”

  * * *

  I didn’t even bother going up to the office. I knew Juliette was already up there telling anyone who would listen how I disrupted the meeting by flirting with Tanner Wright.

  She wouldn’t tell the whole story, of course.

  Her version would undoubtedly have me oohing and goohing at him with my tits hanging out.

  By Monday, I’d be fodder for the office gossip mill.

  I’d be branded as the junior consultant who almost killed a ten-million-dollar deal because she couldn’t resist flirting the bad boy billionaire.

  It would all be a lie, but it wouldn’t matter.

  The only saving grace was that it was after five on Friday afternoon, and most of the Goldman employees would already be headed for home.

  It was little solace.

  I caught a cab and made it home around six. I held it together as I rode the elevator up to my tenth-floor apartment. I hurried down the hall and unlocked my door.

  The moment I stepped inside and locked the door behind me, I fell to my knees and began to sob.

  The hard, crusty shell that I wrapped myself in every day to face the world was left cracked and broken outside my door.

  In here, all alone, it was just me, Candice Marie Carlson, the insecure farm girl from Nebraska who was doing her best to get ahead and hold it together in a cruel and unfair world.

  Candice Carlson, the girl who was sitting on the floor in the dark with her back against the door to keep the world outside.

  Candice Carlson, the girl who cried herself to sleep many nights because the emotional armor she wore to battle the demons of the world was so heavy that it squeezed the emotions out of her like a juice press.

  Candice Carlson, the girl who was hard as stone on the outside, but soft as marshmallow on the inside.

  I put my forearms on my knees and rest my head on my arms.

  I sat there and cried until I had no more tears to give.

  Candice

  It was amazing what a good cry does for the soul. It’s something men will never understand. The weight of the world can be bearing down on you like a Mac truck, but sit on the floor and sob like a baby for an hour and suddenly, all is right with the world.

  Or at least as right as it could get at that moment.

  Throw in a microwave pizza, a pint of mint chocolate chip Haagen-Dazs, and half a bottle of chardonnay, and suddenly the world is a beautiful place.

  At least the world inside my apartment.

  I was more than a little drunk as I ran myself a hot bath and prepared to soak for an hour or two. As the tub filled with steaming hot water, I lit several candles and turned off the lights. The aroma of cinnamon and wildflowers wafted on the air.

  I closed and locked the bathroom door. Call me weird, but I can’t take a bath or a shower with the door open. Guess I’ve seen too many movies about silly girls who take showers when murderers were lurking around.

  I know, I’m a psychiatrist’s wet dream. Oh well.

  I set my iPhone on the counter and told Siri to play some Van Morrison to set the mood. I stripped off the sweats that I’d changed into after my crying jag in the foyer, and stood naked in front of the mirror to put up my hair.

  As I bundled my long hair into a bun and pinned it to the top of my head, I let my eyes take stock of the woman in the mirror. It was something that I did at the end of every day.

  Did the day add a new line or wrinkle?

  Are my boobs sagging?

  Do I have stretch marks on my stomach?

  Again, a psychiatrist would have a field day with me.

  I was tall for a girl at five-eight, and curvy for my height.

  I inherited my mom’s big boobs and round hips. My boobs hung off my chest like two large melons that had never been squeezed. My areolas contrasted darkly against the milky whiteness of my breasts. I kept my blond pubes trimmed short.

  I took a deep breath as I brought my hands down from my hair to cup my breasts. I brushed a finger over my nipples and they responded immediately, growing hard at my touch.

  I closed my eyes. Suddenly, in my mind, Tanner Wright was standing behind me with his hands resting softly on my hips. His sudden appearance startled me for a moment, but my mind told me to just relax and let the fantasy flow.

  I could feel Tanner’s fingers digging gently into my hips. I felt his thumbs at the small of my back, gently massaging the dimples above my ass.

  I rolled my head to the side and moaned as he pressed his lips to my shoulder. He nibbled his way up my neck and to my ear. He took my earlobe between his teeth and bit down just enough to hurt in the most wonderful way.

  I could feel his hot breath in my ear.

  His tongue followed his breath.

  He licked the rim of my ear and darted his tongue inside. A shudder went through me as I could feel the hot juices pooling between my legs.

  Tanner’s hands came around to cup my tits. He squeezed the nipples between his fingers. He moaned in my ear.

  I felt his cock pressing into my back; long, hard, wet from his juices. He slid his cock up and down my back. I could feel his balls rubbing against my ass.

  I braced my hands on the sink and wiggled my ass into him. He slid his cock up and down through the crack in my ass. His hands slid down from my breasts and met at my clit. He rolled my clit between his thumbs. I could feel the orgasm building from deep within my body, like a match that would soon start a raging fire.

  Tanner continued sliding his cock against me as his hands worked my pussy. He slid his fingers across my folds to lubricate them, then teased my opening.

  “Fuck me, Tanner,” I heard myself moan. “Take my cherry. Make it yours forever.”

  I pushed my ass toward him and leaned the top half of my body forward, offering my pussy to him. I felt his hands on my hips again as he positioned himself behind me. I felt the head of his cock pressing into my hole. I held my breath in anticipation. He slid in just the head and paused for a moment. I felt my pussy spreading to accommodate him.

  There was no virgin pain as he dug his fingers into my hips and slid himself fully inside of me. I stood on my tiptoes to give him the perfect angle. He started sliding his cock in and out, in and out. My big boobs swayed beneath me with every thrust.

  “Oh… my… god…”

  My words were carried on gusts of hot breath.

  “Faster… harder… more…”

  Tanner was hammering into me now. My tits swayed. I moaned and called his name as the orgasm hit.

  “I’m... cumming… oh… my… god…”

  I squeezed my eyes tightly together and sucked in a long breath as I came. Tanner’s cock plunged in and out of me until I begged him to stop. I felt his touch drift away from my body like a warm passing wind.

  I opened my eyes and looked in the mirror, which was fogged up from the steaming water that was about to overflow the tub.

  I blinked back to reality and gazed down at myself.

  My left hand was clutching my breast. My breast was red from the hard rubbing and squeezing. My nipple stood on end, a dark crimson thimble in a sea of white.

  I was standing with my knees bent.

  The fingers of my right hand were buried inside my cunt.

  My hand was drenched to the wrist from the orgasm I’d given myself.

  I let my fingers slide out of me and braced my palms on the counter.

  I took in a long, deep breath, then let it out slowly.

  It all seemed so real that I turned to look around the bathroom, as if I’d find Tanner standing there.

  Sadly, I was alone.

  I turned off the water and lowered myself into the steaming tub.

  I closed my eyes and smiled as the hot water engulfed me.

  I picked up the bar of soap from the edge of the tub and rubbed it between my legs as the fantasy began to replay in my mind.

  This time I was a spectator rather than a partici
pant.

  You know how they say that if you lose the use of one of your senses, it makes the other senses heighten?

  Like, if you lose your sense of sight, your senses of smell and hearing and taste and touch grow stronger?

  The same was true when you were a virgin.

  When you’d never had a real man inside you, your imagination intensified until it became as vivid as the real thing.

  Thank God.

  Sigh…

  Tanner

  Monday morning, 7:45 AM.

  I noted the time because Henry was supposed to pick me up for our trip to Tucson with the Goldman team around eight-thirty. I had my assistant pack a bag over the weekend and it was sitting next to the front door, ready to go.

  That was my motto: always be prepared.

  Or have an assistant prepare it for you.

  I had time to kill, so I fixed a cup of coffee using the twenty-thousand-dollar brewing machine Henry had convinced me to buy during a business trip to Italy a few years back.

  It was supposedly the best coffee brewing system on the planet. The coffee beans the system also supposedly brewed the best cup of coffee on the planet. I think the beans were imported from the deepest jungles of Columbia and had been shit through a tiger’s ass or some such nonsense.

  I didn’t get the big deal. The coffee it brewed was mediocre at best. It had the consistency and the smell of burnt ink. It certainly was not a twenty-thousand-dollar cup of coffee. The hundred dollar Keurig in my office made better coffee.

  Henry said I had the palette of a caveman.

  What-the-fuck-ever, dude.

  I knew a shitty cup of coffee when I tasted it.

  I kept meaning to buy a Starbucks franchise and install it downstairs off the lobby (I own this building and live in the penthouse), but I kept forgetting to call Starbucks CEO Howard Schulz to make the deal.

  I picked up my iPhone and spoke into it.

  “Siri, remind me to put a Starbucks in the lobby downstairs.”

  Siri confirmed my brilliance and I set the phone aside.

  I set the mug of steaming coffee on the kitchen table and fired up my laptop. I logged into Facebook and tapped my fingers on the keys.