Page 9 of Run

“Swallow it Lily. All of it.” I groan, milking my cock with much slower, and harder pulls, forcing out every last drop of the cum that I’d saved up for the night of debauchery that didn’t happen. “Such a good girl.”

Sleep comes easily, with my monster sated and my balls empty. I never have trouble sleeping though. Only men who have regrets toss and turn at night, and that’s just not me.

~~~

“It’s a pleasure for you to grace us with your presence this morning.” Jack Collins, the V.P. of my company, and the closest person you could call a friend, bitches as I stroll into my office.

Flopping down in the large leather chair behind my desk, throwing my feet up and crossing my arms behind my head, I stare at him then roll my eyes. He’s four years my senior, and an old pal from college who always had my back, even when I didn’t deserve it. His dark hair is a little longer than mine, and his belly has gotten pudgier over the past few years, but he’s still a looker who can pull any woman he wants, just like me. The fact that he’s rolling in dough really helps too.

“I was here Friday.” I snicker at him, wiggling my feet back and forth as I look around the expansive room from behind my command center.

“In body but not really in mind, don’t you think?” He huffs, sitting across the desk from me in one of the big, brown leather, tub chairs.

“Well…it was Friday.”

“You and your extracurricular activities. You know one of these days, you’re gonna end up in a mess you can’t just throw money at to fix.”

“I welcome it. It might spice things up a bit.”

His bright blue eyes mirror the roll I threw at him, and he chuckles, rubbing the small shadow across his square jaw. “Always the trouble maker.”

“That’s why I have you. You’re my built-in alibi.”

“Yeah, just don’t make me regret it.” He laughs, rubbing his palms on his thighs.

It’s a nervous habit he’s had since the day I met him, cowering in a corner at a frat party, trying to get up the nerve to talk to Sharon, the prettiest little blonde thing on campus. A quick pep talk and an offer of being his wingman, then he pulled the girl that night. Too bad she only had eyes for me, and their date was just a way for her to get closer to me.

Poor Sharon. The first addition to my pit of bones.

As he rambles on about the day’s to-do list, the meetings I need to attend, and the shit I really don’t care about, I close my eyes and picture little Miss Sharon and the way she bled so nicely for me when I carved out her heart. The only thing that would have made it better would have been if it were still beating when it came into my view.

I’ve learned how to take my time now, to enjoy the process of death, and to make each one a better artistic masterpiece. Each additional body that I turn into my canvas becomes something to be remembered and cherished in my memories long after the flesh has rotted away, and the bones have crumbled into dust.

“Hey, shithead. You listening?”

“Hmmm?” I respond, shaking the images from my mind. “Not really.”

“Of course not.”

“Just tell me when and where I need to be, and I’ll take care of it.”

“Whatever.”

The door clicking closed behind him as he takes his leave precedes the glass windows looking out into the reception area frosting opaque with a push of the button on the underside of mydesk. I like privacy in all aspects of my life, even at the office. There will be no prying eyes looking into my little Zen oasis on the top floor of the skyscraper made of metal and glass.

Looking around my slice of relaxation in this corporate hell, I take a few deep breaths in through my nose and blow them out through my mouth. The dark wood furniture with its espresso color and rich grain is warm and calming, while the greens, tans, and off whites accent the deepness with their natural and earthy tones, adding a simulated breath of fresh air to the canned environment.

A large brown, leather couch sits in the middle of the room with sage green, square throw pillows tossed in its corners. A coffee table perched in front of it holds magazines and little leather coasters. The walls are adorned with paintings of leaves in all the autumn colors I enjoy. The reds, yellows, and oranges add the splash of color the room needs while maintaining the natural feeling.

Even the air is better in here than the rest of the business’s offices and rooms. The plug-in fresheners in a crisp, leafy, air scent keep it smelling like a fall ride on my bike.

Mmmm heaven.

There’s just something about having a peaceful environment while I break the law. It’s an oxymoron of situations that I like. Maybe it’s because I’m my happiest when I’m being an asshole.

“To work, or to play. That is the question.” I mutter to myself as I click on my laptop, bringing the company logo up on the login screen.

The big gold “H” surrounded by flames almost laughs at me like a deranged clown as I lean in and type in mypassword. My initial, the thing people know me by, is the name of the company that I run. The one that, although is extremely profitable, could become nothing at any time if the feds were to get a whiff of the deals I’m really doing from this little piece of technology. Just like my whole existence could crumble down if my bodies or trophies were to ever be found.

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