Blackstone Inc. (Book 2)

Part 12

After letting him fuck my mouth, Katherine called and needed to be let in.

I had to wipe the tears from my cheeks and fix my ponytail and I finished wiping off my mouth with a wet wipe as she walked through the hallway and into the office.

"What you two did is obviously working," she beamed as she looked between the two of us, him sitting in his chair, me standing beside him.

"You've made it look very real," she slapped the magazine down on his desk for us to see.

On the cover was a dark, but still very recognizable, picture of him holding me up against the wall at the nightclub, one hand in my hair, the other holding my ass and our lips connected.

My cheeks burned as Katherine continued, "How'd you know the paparazzi would be at that club?"

I almost choked on my spit before Preston answered for us, "I saw a few outside of the club before we walked in. I knew they'd like the view."

I looked down at him, "I'm gonna go start my day. If you need anything else, let me know," I said in a low voice and I watched as a smile curled his lips as he nodded, "I will, Daisy. Thank you."

***

The rest of the day went without a hitch. He was busy with calls and I was busy getting his schedule in order and before I knew it, it was the end of the day and time to go home.

Several hours later at around 8:30, I was sitting in my apartment on my couch watching the entertainment news channel waiting to see if we had made an appearance and what I saw took me by surprise.

"Sarah, who do you think the girl he was seen with at the club last night was," the male co-anchor asked.

"Well, Mike, I think it's safe to assume from our source that her name is Daisy Mitchell, a 21-year-old woman from Houston. She isn't known for anything and she apparently just started at the company," the blonde haired woman said back.

At the top right of the screen were two photos, one of Preston and me walking into the restaurant and the other was the dark picture of us in the hallway of the nightclub.

"And is it also safe to assume that she is just a fling of the Blackstone Bachelor," Mike asked with a smirk.

Sarah looked at the camera before looking back at her co-anchor, "Well, Mike, judging from recent pictures of tonight, I would say so."

What pictures from tonight were they talking about?

Mike held his finger up to his ear and nodded before looking back at the camera, "Well, folks, we were just given the go-ahead to show the photos--they should be on your screen now--" he said and two photos of Preston with another girl, young like me, his arm around her waist walking into a restaurant, appeared on the screen.

I quickly realized that the girl in the photos was an ex of his...his most recent ex, if that's what you would even call a three month long tryst,-- Amelia Ryder, a gorgeous blonde who was actually a Victorias' Secret model.

"Yep, that's Preston Blackstone, back with his ex Amelia Ryder. It's looked like they were getting quite cozy in the exclusive restaurant. Are they getting back together after their recent split or is he just wanting another good time," Mike joked, but my stomach was rolling.

Had I not given Preston enough? Was I not good enough for him?

I chuckled darkly, of course, not. I wasn't anything like her.

I looked at the photos still on the screen as if to torment me. She was a tall, but skinny girl, probably about 5′8 and, like, 130 pounds. She came up to his shoulder and I knew for a fact that he was at least 6′3.

The small smile on her face and her hand on his chest as they walked through the paparazzi, made me regret having greasy pizza tonight.

"What do you think will happen with Daisy," Sarah asked Mike with a smirk like it was just gossip to her because that's exactly what it was.

Mike snorted, "Come on, Sarah, we all know what he was thinking when he was out with her. She's good looking, she's got curves, and she's got the fiery gingery hair, so I'm sure she was a good time...but that's all she was to him. You've seen his type and Daisy Mitchell is not his ty--"

I shut the tv off then. I couldn't hear any more of the speculating what I was to Preston. I didn't need them to do that because I was doing it myself.

I knew I wasn't his type. I had told myself that from day one... I was just a quick fuck for him.

I wouldn't be surprised if when I got into work tomorrow if he fired me because he didn't need me anymore.

My phone rang then and when I looked at the caller ID, I saw that it was the Devil, himself.

"Preston," I tried to keep my voice calm and level. I tried not to show that I knew where he had been tonight.

"Flower," he slurred slightly, "I'm going to come over tonight and ravish you, my little flower," he whispered huskily as if he hadn't gotten some from Amelia already tonight.

"Don't bother, Sir. I'm suddenly not feeling well. I'm just gonna go to bed soon," I sighed.

"Oh, well, I hope you get to feeling better, Daisy. I'll see you tomorrow. Bring an extra change of clothes," his deep voice still managing to send tremors of desire through my body.

"Will do, Sir," I stated plainly as possible, having no intentions of doing so.

I didn't bother hanging up, I was waiting to see if he had anything else to say and when he paused, I thought he had hung up, but then I heard him sigh, "Is something the matter?"

"No, Preston. Everything is peachy. Why do you ask?" Suddenly having a guilty conscious, are we?

"Just checking, Flower. I really wanted to see you tonight. Are you sure you aren't feeling well?"

I inhaled sharply and squeezed my thighs together and loathed the way my body still reacted to him having so blatantly pushed me to the fucking curb, "I'm sure, Sir. I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early, Sir."

I heard him sigh, "You too, Daisy."

And just before I was about to hang up, I couldn't stop myself from saying, "I'm glad you had fun tonight, Sir."

Before he had a chance to say anything, I pressed the red button and stalked to my bedroom.

I wrenched my closet door open and stepped inside. I was going to make him regret tonight. I was going to wear the sluttiest thing I could get away with wearing to the office and make him feel like shit tomorrow.