Page 6 of Britain

A short while later, I save my work and lock my computer. I change into my dark gray slacks and blue dress shirt but forgo the suit jacket and tie since it’s fucking hot out. Slipping on my black loafers, I shove my wallet in my back pocket and head out. In the underground garage, there are two beeps when I hit the unlock button on my key fob. I climb into my black Porsche Cayenne Turbo. After I bought my loft, I bought my SUV. I wanted something sportier, but I live in the Midwest and it doesn’t make sense to drive a sports car when winters can be hellish. I paid for this thing outright and got it with all the bells and whistles.

My sister and I were raised by a single father who struggled to put food on the table and clothe us—I swore that would never be us again. Thanks to my business, I was able to buy my dad his little bungalow on the river. He sacrificed so much for us after Mom took off. It’s been nice being able to give back to him.

He’s been on disability since he fell off some scaffolding when I was just a boy. It fucked up his back and he was never able to return to work. He can’t stand for more than a half hour at a time before he has pain that radiates down his legs. Most days he uses a cane to get around.

I pay for his groceries and have them delivered to his home, and pay for someone to clean his house. The man claims to be a burden, but he gave us everything he could, and doing the same for him will be a never-ending job that I’ll gladly do.

I pull out of the parking garage and head uptown. First stop is the post office to check my P.O. box. Then I call Stefan to make sure he got my email.

“Hey, Silas. I’ve got Claire Rosen looking up some listings for us. She said she’d try to find three to start with, and I gave her what we’re looking for. You need to figure out what kind of salaries you can offer a secretary, at least a couple of programmers, and a couple of IT guys that can be here twenty-four seven just in case there are any issues so you’re not working all day and all night.”

I like to run new apps or programs myself for at least the first couple of months just to ensure that all of the bugs are worked out, even after I sell them. Sometimes if they’re able, my freelance programmers will be on call to cover any issues that arise.

“I know. Hopefully we’ll find a space and then I can talk to Mike.” He’s my financial guy.

“I want to be there when you talk to him. I have questions and want to see projections of where we’ll be in a year with expenses but also selling the tutoring app, which didn’t you say would be ready soon?” I can hear papers rustling around.

Stefan’s smart as fuck and has always had my back. I owe it to both him and Jeremiah for my success. The three of us work like a well-oiled machine together.

We hang up and I head to talk to my financial guy and set up a time for Stefan and me to come in and talk about our plan. He sets up a meet a week out, which will give me plenty of time to develop a PowerPoint presentation. I want to show him our projections and my five-year plan.

The more I think about actually working out of an office with a strong team around me, the more I’m getting fucking giddy. I’ve worked hard to get us to where we are. I’ve put my blood, sweat, tears, heart, and soul into my company. My sister named it Learn4Fun Incorporated. She says I’ve made learning fun, and the program she’s beta testing has proven to be my best one yet.

I decide to go for a drive out in the country. It’s a gorgeous day and things are going great. When I hit the tiny town of Taylor, I drive out past some cornfields when all of a sudden there’s a loud bang and I start losing control. Letting off the gas, I steer my SUV to the side of the road and put it in park.

“So much for it being a fucking great day.” I climb out and walk around the front to see my tire blew out and now my rim is bent to shit.

I grab my cellphone and Google towing companies. I find one that I’ve heard good things about, and they can send a wrecker. They’ll take a look at my rim and see if they have one the same size—if not, they can order it and have it by tomorrow. It’ll be at least twenty minutes before they’ll get here, but I told them it was fine.

Sitting down on the grass, I check my emails and make some calls while I wait. Almost exactly twenty minutes later, the tow truck pulls up and I stay seated while I watch him pull up in front of my Porsche and then back up so he’s close enough to hook it up. The door opens and I stand up as the sound of crunching gravel signals that the guy is walking toward the back.

When they reach the back end, I freeze. It’s the blonde woman from the coffee shop, looking sexy as hell in a pair of coveralls. Her silky-looking blonde curls are tied back in a high ponytail. This has got to be some cruel joke, and as soon as she sees me, she freezes, whirls around, and goes to the back to start messing with stuff. Clearly she’s avoiding me.

I step closer and see that she’s scowling while she fiddles with the chain. “Do you know what you’re doing?” It’s just too easy to get her riled up, because her cheeks turn the darkest shade of pink and I swear I can practically see the smoke coming out of her ears.

Her fists ball up at her sides and I’m just waiting for her to blow. Of course maybe I shouldn’t poke the bear when she’s messing with my car. She turns to me as I approach.

She starts twirling her fingers in her hair, gives me an over-exaggerated smile, and pulls some of her gum out of her mouth to fuss with. “Gee, mister, I don’t know how to do it. Can you show me?” My dick is so fucking hard right now. There is something oddly erotic about this little routine, and her sassy fucking mouth.

She turns away and puts a pair of gloves on, and with quick efficiency she’s got my SUV up. I climb into the passenger side of the tow truck and watch as she pulls herself up into the driver’s seat. She buckles her belt and starts driving, not looking at me at all.

Her name is stitched on her coveralls: Britain. Hmmm…that’s an interesting name. From what I can remember, she’s got eyes that are the most unique and beautiful gray I’ve ever seen. Now those eyes are covered by aviator sunglasses.

I open my mouth to apologize for being a dick, but she turns the volume up on the radio to drown me out. She smells like coconut and motor oil, and it’s a combination that I like. She’s a little spitfire, I can tell. I’ve always picked women that do whatever I want to do, never telling me no. Britain would hold her ground. She’d have no problem calling me on my bullshit. She would keep me on my toes for sure, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t date…period. I play.

Maybe she and I could make an arrangement, a purely sexual one…I’m going to have to soften her up before I ask. I bet if I did ask her right now, she’d rip my dick off and feed it to me. What I wouldn’t give to see her shackled to my St. Andrew’s Cross, her body bare and pink from my flogger.

I’ve been in the BDSM lifestyle for the past ten years. A girl I hooked up with had brought Stefan, Jeremiah, and me to a club, and that was all she wrote. We enjoyed the scene and all worked with other Doms and some random subs to learn everything we could. I love vanilla sex just as much as kinky sex, but I’d give my left nut to see my red handprint on Britain’s perfect little ass.

We pull up in front of Lancaster, and my attention goes back to Britain. With practiced skill she backs the truck up, moving my SUV into a large stall where a large man unhooks it and raises it on a platform.

The music disappears. “Get out. I’ll meet you at the counter in a minute.” She doesn’t even look at me. In fact, she looks bored. “Bye.” Britain shoos me right out of the truck then pulls it over to the side and hops out. Even the sway in her hips is fucking sassy. What is it about this girl?

My eyes follow her until I hear a throat clearing. I look in the direction of the garage and find the very large, light-skinned black guy who’s going to be working on my car staring daggers at me. Oh shit…is that her boyfriend, and did he just catch me staring at her? “Eyes off my baby sister.” Okay, well…that answers the question of who he is, but how is that possible? She’s blonde, with peaches-and-cream skin and mysterious eyes. Of course, she could be adopted for all I know.

I give him a chin lift and head inside to where she’s waiting behind the counter. “We have a rim, so we’ll have you ready to go in about an hour”

I walk down the street to the little sandwich shop and grab myself some lunch. While I sit and eat, I check emails. Stefan has emailed me a couple of possible office spaces to look at. The first one is right on the river. Yes, it could flood, but the view would be so worth it and we’d be on the second floor.

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