DOS Ch-289

“But General Motors is considered one of the worst stocks to invest in right now,” Patricia said with a small frown. “I may not be as savvy an investor as Richard, but even I know that.”

Troy smiled faintly, leaning back in his chair lazily. “Exactly. It’s hovering near its all-time low of the last decade. I had a meeting with someone very high up in the government a few days ago and received some information about what’s happening behind the scenes, things not yet known to the public. They said that GM is too iconic, too big to fail. If it collapsed, people would lose faith in the government itself. Once their plans come to light, GM’s stock price will skyrocket. In a year, you could see returns as high as ten times your investment.”

Richard’s eyes widened. The greed in them was barely concealed. “Was it President Obama? I read in the papers that you met him recently.”

Troy gave a knowing smile but didn’t answer. “All I can say is that I have my money riding on GM this year. What you do with that information is entirely up to you.”

Patricia exchanged a glance with Richard, but he was already somewhere else in his mind, lost in dreams of impossible profits. That same expression stayed on his face for the rest of the dinner.

“I don’t think that’s a viable plan for us,” Patricia said as soon as they were back in their car. “We came here seeking funds, not investment advice.”

Richard kept his eyes on the road, his jaw set. “Do you realize who that man is? And how he made his fortune? I read a book by an investment analyst who broke down every move Troy Armitage has made since he was a kid. He’s a billionaire because he made huge, risky bets that paid off. Guess how many of those bets ever failed?”

Patricia sighed. “I don’t know. Five percent?”

“Zero,” Richard said with conviction. “Not a single one. Every investment he’s ever made has turned a profit. So if I act like the sun shines out of his ass, it’s because it probably does. I’m investing everything I have into GM, just as he suggested, no matter the cost.”

Patricia turned to him, eyes filled with worry. “That was the whole point of this meeting, Richard. We don’t have money to invest in anything.”

“We still have our house,” he said calmly. “We can mortgage it.” He hesitated for a bit before saying, “I never told you this, but I have a good safety net prepared for a rainy day. I’ll liquidate that amount and put it all in GM. Just think about it. With these type of returns, we’ll be free from our investors’ pressure, and can repay them a modest return by next year, thus saving us from litigation.”

That was their biggest worry at the moment. Richard had taken so many investments that if he failed, he will go jail for sure. If not, someone powerful will lynch him.

Patricia’s breath caught at the mere thought of that. “If this fails, we’ll have nothing left.”

“It won’t fail,” Richard said confidently, gripping the steering wheel tighter as the streetlights passed over his face.

(Break)

I was watching a rerun of the latest Saturday Night Live episode, with Loki curled up on the couch near my feet. An absurd skit was playing out on the screen, filling the room with continuous laughter from the live audience.

Loki’s ears perked up and he barked excitedly when Scarlett walked in through the door. His tail wagged furiously, but his enthusiasm turned into disappointment when she dropped beside me with a boneless sigh.

“You are evil,” I said, giving her a disbelieving look before bending down to calm the dismayed Loki, who whined softly, still yearning for her attention. “Don’t worry, boy. She didn’t mean to upset you. She’s just tired.”

After a moment, I glanced back at her and teased, “If not Loki, at least give me my daily dose of your perfect kiss.” I made a kissy face in her direction.

Scarlett closed her eyes and groaned. “Today was brutal. I’m so fucking tired I’m not moving an inch from this spot. You’ll have to carry me to bed when it’s time to sleep.”

“We still have to eat,” I reminded her gently.

“Not hungry.”

I frowned. “Are you still on that insane diet?”

“Not anymore,” she murmured. “I burn so many calories dancing all day, I have to eat more or I’ll probably faint. I had a huge lunch, so I don’t want anything right now.”

“That’s good then,” I said, turning my attention back to the screen where Alec Baldwin appeared alongside the Jonas Brothers, launching into a ridiculous skit.

“Since when do you watch SNL?” she asked curiously, her voice still muffled against the cushion.

“Since I got a call from them to host one of the episodes,” I replied. “This time I accepted. At worst, I’ll just make a fool of myself, which I’m totally fine with.”

The moment I said that, Scarlett’s fatigue evaporated. She sat up straight, eyes bright with excitement. “Fucking finally! I’ve hosted it twice, and it’s amazing. You’ll love it. I still can’t believe you turned them down before.”

I snorted. It wasn’t the first time SNL had reached out to me, but every other time I’d been busy shooting something else.

“I thought you were tired,” I said pointedly.

She sighed, the burst of energy fading as quickly as it came, and leaned against my shoulder again. “I am.”

I kissed the top of her head softly. “And remember, we’re having brunch tomorrow with your siblings.”

She groaned. “Fuck! I forgot about that. Can you please go alone while I sleep in on my only day off this week?”

I gave her a deadpan look. “You’re coming along.” My tone left no room for argument.

It still felt strange that I hadn’t officially met Scarlett’s other siblings yet. I’d met her mom once, briefly, and his brother Hunter, but that was it. Now that we were in New York, I’d decided to make a proper effort to see more of them in the coming days.

“That reminds me,” Scarlett said suddenly, lifting her head slightly. “I met someone on set today. A playwright. He offered me a role in a play once I’m done with my current projects.”

“And?” I asked, prompting her to continue.

“Would that be okay with you?” she asked. “I’d have to stay in New York for months after finishing [Iron Man 2].”

“Is that okay with you?” I countered gently. “You’re already exhausted from this film, and [Iron Man 2] will have even more action for your character. I thought you wanted a break after all this. Heck, I wasn’t even sure if you wanted to play Black Widow anymore.”

She shrugged lightly. “I have warmed up to the idea of becoming Black Widow, and don’t want to step back now. As for the stage play, I’ve always wanted to do it. This one’s really good, so I thought I’d talk to you first since you’ve done Broadway before. What do you think?”

“Don’t do a musical if you’re looking for downtime,” I advised seriously. “It’s a lot of work—acting, singing, dancing six days a week, sometimes two times a day. But whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, resting her head on my shoulder again. “I’ll talk to my agent about it too. Honestly, all I want right now is a full day at a spa—massages, facials, the whole package. But I don’t have the time for it, and it’s too late for one anyway.”

I gave her a mock look of disbelief. “Did you forget who I am? I could call the best massage therapists in New York right now.” Then, an idea lit up in my head. “Or better yet…”

Before she could react, I stood and scooped her into my arms. She let out a startled yelp, half laughing.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m doing exactly what you want,” I said in a playful tone. “You’re tired, and in desperate need of a massage. Lucky for you, I’m a man of many talents.”

Scarlett gave me a skeptical look, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Are you sure about that? I like my massages deep-tissue and intense.”

“Oh, you’ll get it deep and intense for sure,” I promised.

“And what about a facial?”

“I can give that to you as well,” I said seriously, though I had a feeling that Scarlett and I had very different definitions of the word ‘facial’.

(Warning: NSFW for the rest of the chapter. You can skip it if you don’t want to read smut.)

I carried her to our bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp created the perfect ambience for what I had in mind. I lay her down, gently settling her onto the soft fabric of the bedsheets.

Scarlett let out a soft groan, already melting into the mattress.

“Put extra attention on my shoulder blades and lower back.”

“Sure, but let’s get you out of those clothes first,” I said as I undid the buttons of her shirt one at a time.

When her shirt fell open, her black bra was visible, barely containing her full breasts.

“No wonder your back aches,” I noted, my fingers tracing the strained line of her shoulders. “You should wear something loose and airy, at least when you’re at home.”

She shrugged, the movement slight. “I am used to it by now.”

I undid her jeans next, leaving her in a pair of matching black panties and bra. She turned onto her stomach, giving me unobstructed access to her back. The silky fabric of her panties had ridden up, accentuating the curve of her round butt cheeks.

“Since it’s just the two of us here, be free for tonight,” I said. I hooked two fingers into the waistband of her panties and shimmied them down her legs before taking them off entirely.

“I’m sure my freedom is the only reason you’re getting me naked,” she said, her voice muffled by the sheets and thick with sarcasm.

I didn’t reply. Instead, I unhooked her bra, before pulling it off and throwing it down on the floor, where it met the rest of her clothes. Her entire natural form was now revealed to me. From her well-defined shoulder blades, down to the elegant taper of her thin waist, and further to her shapely, rounded butt and her smooth legs. The woman in front of me was a temptation, and for a moment, I considered abandoning the massage entirely. My hands reached forward almost of their own volition and cupped her cheeks. Unfortunately…

“I just want a massage, Troy,” Scarlett said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “So stop messing around and get to work.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, giving a playful salute to her back before walking to the bathroom. I returned with a bottle of warm coconut oil, my go to for massages. “I know just the thing to help you relax.”

I poured a generous amount onto her skin, the oil glistening as it traced a path over her shoulders, down her back, and across the curve of her butt and legs. The ritual reminded me of my time playing a masseur for the porn company I worked for in my first life. So while Scarlett might not know it, I had a pretty good idea of what to do. Or rather, I knew how to set the mood for what I really wanted from her.

My hands found her tense muscles easily and began kneading them with practiced pressure. I started at her shoulders, just as she requested, and slowly worked my way down.

“Hmmm,” Scarlett moaned, a low, sultry sound that was far from casual. “If I knew you had such a magical touch, I would have asked you to do this ages ago. Even my usual masseur isn’t this good.”

I grinned at the praise. “Thank you, ma’am.”

After a few minutes of silence, I added, “You’re so stiff. You need to relax even more if you want the massage to be effective. Why don’t you spread your arms and legs out like a starfish?”

My hands had reached the full curves of her ass, which I kneaded with a steady, practiced rhythm. Pliant under my touch, Scarlett did as I suggested without a second thought, her limbs stretching wide against the sheets.

I grabbed the bottle of oil again and dribbled it generously over the small of her back, watching as the slick liquid traced a path down the deep line of her spine and into the shadowed cleft of her buttocks. If she noticed my little trick, she did not complain at all. So I used my index and middle fingers to massage from the top of that crevice, down to the hidden warmth between her legs, brushing lightly against the most sensitive part of her, a territory I knew as intimately as the back of my hand.

Her breath hitched, but no audible complaint came. I carefully noted that she was facing away from me, her vision obscured by the pillow she was using as a headrest. Seizing the moment, I quickly shed my t-shirt, shorts, and briefs, standing as naked as the day I was born, save for the raging erection I was sporting.

“Why did you stop?” Scarlett groaned, her face still turned away.

I did not respond with words, but my hands returned to work, massaging the taut muscles of her thighs, her calves, and then the arches of her feet. She melted back into blissful silence, unaware of the change in my state. Slowly, I made my way back up her body, and the moment my hands grazed the outer lips of her pussy, she twitched. In that moment, I knew I had her.

I quickly sprayed a generous amount of oil over my own chest and torso, rubbing it down all the way to my aching erection. I repeated the motion across my back as best I could.

Then I leaned over Scarlett’s body, holding my cock carefully in my fist to avoid contact with her as I brought my lips close to her ear. “There is a special massage technique I know that I think would be great for you.”

“Do whatever you want,” she murmured, her voice thick with surrender. “Just don’t stop.”

I nodded to myself before turning and settling my weight onto the broad of her back. My nude, greased body slid against her oil-slicked skin with an easy, fluid motion.

“What are you doing?” she asked, still not turning. “Are you naked?”

“It’s called a body-to-body massage,” I stated as a matter of fact, shifting so my full weight rested upon her, my cock throbbing against the firm swell of her buttocks. “Just keep your eyes closed and forget about everything else. Enjoy the moment.”

I did not wait for a reply and began to move, a slow, undulating glide that drew a new, throaty moan of anticipation from her with each pass.

After nearly five minutes of this, my skin now as slick and gleaming as hers, I leaned close to her ear again, my voice a low whisper. “It’s time for you to turn over.”

She needed no convincing; in fact, she was almost too eager, moving with a swiftness that made a grin spread effortlessly across my face.

My gaze traveled down her naked front, a sight that somehow surpassed the lovely view of her back. Her breasts were perfect on her slender frame, firm yet soft, with pink nipples drawn into tight peaks. My eyes followed the gentle curve of her waist, down past the smooth plane of her stomach to the beautiful, hairless lips of her pussy. That was what I loved most about Scarlett’s body. Beyond her eyebrows, there was not a single hair to be found. It was exactly how I liked my girl.

“Will you keep staring, or will you continue the massage?” she asked, her voice teasing.

We both knew exactly what was happening, but a playful spark between us ensured neither of us broke the ruse.

Wordlessly, I picked up the bottle of oil once more. I poured the warm liquid into my palm and smoothed it over her front, starting with her round, soft breasts, then gliding over her flat belly and the gentle curve of her hips.

Just as my oil-slicked hands neared her pink folds, she reached for me. Her fingers began to massage my chest in return, and she deliberately pinched my nipples. She knew perfectly well that, aside from my cock, that was my most sensitive spot.

Her touch aroused me even further. In full view of her hungry eyes, I raised two fingers, generously coated them in oil, and began to rub slow, light circles over her clit.

She lost all composure instantly, a loud moan tearing from her throat. I did not make her wait any longer. I slid the two fingers inside her, while my thumb took over the steady, rhythmic pressure on her clit.

“Fuck!” she cried, her voice reduced to a desperate mewl.

Before I could continue, Scarlett surprised me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me down into a deep, passionate kiss. Our tongues met in a hungry dance, but I made sure my fingers never stopped their work, never ceased pleasuring her.

“I want you,” she commanded, leaving no room for negotiation.

“As you say,” I replied, finally withdrawing my fingers from her warmth.

I lifted one of her legs, resting her calf against my naked chest as I positioned myself at her entrance. I rubbed the head of my cock against her slick folds, teasing us both, but I stopped just before pushing inside.

“Are you sure you want this?” I teased, my voice a low murmur in the quiet room. “I thought you were tired.”

She let out a frustrated groan, her eyes dark with desire. “Troy, please fuck my brains out before I kick your ass.”

That was all the motivation I needed. In one swift, fluid motion, I was buried inside her to the hilt. She gasped, her body arching at the suddenness, but I didn’t stop there. I began to move my hips against hers, setting a steady, deep rhythm. With each passing moment, I could feel her clenching around me, pulling me deeper as if her body was begging for more.

“Fuck, yes!” she moaned, the sound pure delight. “Keep going.”

“I’m not stopping even if the house is on fire,” I joked, my voice strained as I increased the pace of my thrusts.

I leaned forward, capturing her lips in another searing kiss. Our tongues tangled in a desperate battle for dominance, a mirror of our bodies’ frantic rhythm. Just as I felt the familiar, tightening pressure building at the base of my spine, Scarlett pushed firmly against my chest.

I fell onto my back beside her, and she moved with a fluid grace, climbing over me. She held my cock steady beneath her, lowering herself onto it with a careful, deliberate slowness that made us both shudder. Once she was settled, she began to move, bouncing on top of me with increasing fervor. I gripped her hips, my fingers pressing into her soft skin, helping her find a faster, more frantic pace until we were both hurtling past the point of no return.

Her head fell back, a silent cry of ecstasy on her lips as my own release surged into her. A shuddering gasp escaped her, and from the way our combined warmth flowed down my shaft, I knew she had found one of her powerful, crashing orgasms.

In the shuddering aftermath, she collapsed onto my chest, her sweat and oil soaked naked body heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

“That was some of the best sex of my life,” she panted into my skin.

I placed a soft, chaste kiss on her damp forehead. “I have heard you say that exact thing so many times, I have lost count.”

“And I’m telling the truth all those times,” she insisted, her tone utterly serious. She propped her chin on my chest to look at me. “You are very good at sex. I’m not even exaggerating. It makes me wonder if you were kind of a manwhore before we met.”

I laughed at the hidden truth behind her words. “No, I’m just naturally gifted.”

“Then I hope you won’t mind showing me that gift once more?” she said, a slow smirk spreading across her face as her hand drifted down and began to slowly stroke my rapidly hardening length.

“I have a better idea,” I said with a smirk. “Why don’t I show you my style of facial?”