CE O Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  CE”O”

  M.T. Stone

  Steamy Nights Publishing

  Contents

  Copyrights

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Bonus Content - Bettergasms.com

  Billionaire’s Redemption

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Copyrights

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. The author recognizes all trademarks used within this work of fiction.

  Copyright © 2017 by M.T. Stone. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher.

  www.SteamyNightsPublishing.com

  First Edition – June 12, 2017

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to all my fans who love a passionate couple and fun, steamy scenes. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, because I would love to continue their story!

  Prologue

  Your pleasure is my business.

  Some people will tell you that all you need is a big dick to give a woman a ride she’ll never forget, but that’s a lie. Granted, you need a solid tool to work with, but an undersized tool in the hands of a craftsman is more magical than a giant schlong in the hands of a clod. I’ve spent enough time in locker rooms to know that there are lots of well-hung dudes white-knuckling it every Saturday night. Usually because of limited skills or a lack of tact.

  The first time I made a woman orgasm, it not only blew her mind, but mine as well. There is nothing else on earth that compares to taking a woman past the point of losing control. Ragged breaths, curling toes, and trembling limbs are just a few of my favorite things. Once I did it for one, I wanted to do it for others. It didn’t take long for word to get around campus, and soon, women were literally hanging on me at the weekend parties.

  “How do you do it?” my buddies would ask, not understanding why they were being left out in the cold.

  “It’s all about taking your time and paying extra attention to a few special areas—the nape of the neck, the nipples, the G-spot, and the clit,” I would tell them, but few ever took the time to comprehend what I was talking about. That’s the problem with most men. They are just looking to get their dicks wet and couldn’t care less about pleasing women. Unlike men, who can become fully aroused by the brush of a woman’s hand against their balls, women take a little more time. The more effort you put in up front, the more you get back in the end, and the results are exponential.

  Let me add that I have always loved women in general. Tall ones, skinny ones, short, curvy ones, and pretty much everything in between. For me, attitude is everything. If a woman is flirty and fun, it makes up for a lot of things that other guys might consider imperfections. Sex should be fun, and if it’s not, there is little chance of a climactic outcome. “I’ve never wanted to fuck anyone so badly in my life,” is just one of the admissions that is music to my ears. When I have a woman to that point, I know the rest of the night is going to be a smashing success.

  The only problem? Women often want more than I can offer, at least from an emotional standpoint. I consider myself a gentleman, always opening doors, paying the tabs, and treating them like princesses in and out of the bedroom. But when it comes to making a commitment, that’s my downfall. I’ve never been able to make a connection beyond the physical, and I’m not sure why. That’s why I started Bettergasms.com. Now, I can not only please thousands of women, but I can give each of my former clients a gift that keeps on giving. I know it’s not the ideal solution, but it’s the best that I can do. Besides, once I teach a woman how to get the most out of her sexual escapades, hopefully, she will be able to pass along some knowledge to her future partners. After all, knowledge is power, especially when you’re in the bedroom.

  Chapter 1

  Rex

  Sitting in my office with my manufacturing director, I hear the receptionist greeting someone outside my door. Within seconds, a gorgeous blonde comes into view and takes a seat in my direct line of vision. She is wearing a navy blue suit with a skirt that hits her well above the knee. I can’t help being distracted as she crosses her legs and opens a black leather portfolio, placing it on her lap.

  Sally, my manufacturing director, clears her throat and gives me an annoyed look before proceeding. “As I was saying, the production run is on schedule and we’ll have these just in time for that adult novelty trade show.”

  “Ah, yes . . . Sexapalooza. I’m looking forward to meeting some of our potential customers face to face.” I grin at the thought of it. “I love that it’s being held in LA this year instead of Columbus, Ohio. I never understood why that was the only US city they chose in the past.”

  “According to Men’s Health, Columbus has been one of the top three most sexually active cities in America for the past three years,” she replies. “That little tidbit is right off their website.”

  “I imagine there isn’t much else to do there in the winter,” I speculate, having grown up just east of Chicago. “I thought you had a prototype for me?”

  “Oh . . . yeah,” she stutters before bending over and pulling it from her bag. “Sorry, I almost forgot.”

  “Shit. You just wanted to take it home for another night,” I tease as she sets it on my desk. I pick it up and act as if I’m inspecting it for damage. “Did you give it a good workout?”

  “God, no!” she blurts out, an immediate flush reddening her cheeks. “Why would you say such a thing?”

  “You should know by now that I love asking questions like that.” I give her a wink and set it back down. “How long have you been married anyway?”

  “Seventeen years in September.” She sighs and rolls her eyes.

  “You’re the perfect target market. I can’t believe you didn’t take it for a spin,” I continue
to tease, enjoying her obvious embarrassment. “I was hoping for some feedback.”

  “On that note, I just remembered I have an important call to return,” she replies, getting up from the chair. “You’re the only CEO I know who would tease his employees about something so personal,” she adds, looking back as she heads toward the door.

  “That’s because most CEOs don’t sell such fun products.” I grin broadly as she pauses just long enough to shake her head in disapproval. “Be sure to let me know your thoughts once you get around to trying it out.” Sally was the first person I contacted when I started this business due to her background in product development and her manufacturing connections. Even though she’s ten years older than me, we instantly bonded as if we were long-lost friends. She’s one of those women who tends to think more like a guy, so she’s great to joke around with.

  I glance through the doorway, and the young woman in the business suit is still sitting in the same spot. She looks in my direction after Sally walks by, so I wave her in. “You must be my ten o’clock.” I glance at my calendar for a name. “Felicia Connors?”

  “Yes, I’m Felicia.” Her beauty only intensifies as she approaches my desk holding out her hand. Her long, wavy blonde hair and gorgeous hazel eyes completely mesmerize me for a moment. I quickly regain my composure after finding myself in the midst of an awkwardly long handshake.

  “And you’re interested in applying for the marketing director position?” I ask, thinking she is awfully young for such a role.

  “I just graduated with a degree in fashion merchandising and marketing,” she replies, handing me her resume. “But I’ve got a great marketing idea for you.”

  “I love great ideas. Have a seat and tell me about it.” I point her to the chair in front of me and scan through her resume. “New York Fashion Academy, huh? How in the world did you end up here? Adult novelties and fashion don’t have a whole lot in common.”

  “That’s what I want to talk to you about. I was visiting my mom one day, and when I went to throw something in the trash, I saw one of your catalogs in there. Even in the garbage, it stuck out like a sore thumb.” Her cheeks flush a bit at the admission. She then turns to the prototype sitting on my desk and arches her eyebrows.

  “Let me put this away.” I chuckle, grabbing the dildo and tossing it into one of my desk drawers. “So, you saw my catalog in the garbage and then what?”

  “I asked her about it and she claimed she had no idea why she had received it,” she explains before lowering her voice to almost a whisper. “She was really embarrassed.”

  “I can imagine most mothers would be a little embarrassed,” I reply, knowing full well how my own mother reacts whenever I talk about the business. “My mom still thinks I should be selling life insurance or something decent,” I add, bringing a smile to her face for the first time. I love how her eyes sparkle when she smiles. “So, how did this lead to a big idea?”

  “I started thinking that maybe it would be better to send out a catalog with a less graphic cover on it. That way, women might be more comfortable keeping it around.” She reaches into her portfolio and pulls out what appears to be a prototype of her own. “I took a few pages from several of the most popular catalogs to illustrate the idea.” She laid it on my desk, and the cover was from Chadwick’s, along with the first few pages, then it transitioned into Venus, then Victoria’s Secret, and finally, the Bettergasms stuff in the center of the catalog. After a dozen pages of adult toys, it made a similar transition back to a benign ending. “With tastefully chosen fashions, this would be something that women would keep around,” she adds with a self-assured grin.

  “I’m not so sure that Chadwick’s and Bettergasms are complementary brands,” I reply, not seeing an immediate fit. I’ve seen plenty of those types of catalogs lying around my parents’ place, but I’m pretty sure sex toys have never been part of the mix.

  “We could change the name of the catalog to something like Vibrant Lifestyle, and we could have a little more edge to our fashions, but I guarantee a catalog like this wouldn’t go in the garbage nearly as quickly,” she counters, immediately defending her idea.

  “Hey, it’s an interesting idea,” I tell her, always one to encourage people to think outside the box. “But honestly, ninety percent of our sales are generated online, and I got talked into doing that mailer by a printing company that targets women who enjoy catalogs. I was never really sold on the idea in the first place. Besides, Bettergasms says it all in one word.”

  “If it’s done right, I think a more diverse catalog could be really effective. Women like my mom always like to check out new catalogs, and I know she would never go online looking for sex toys,” she declares convincingly.

  “You might be surprised.” I raise my eyebrows and shoot her a grin. “I like your enthusiasm and the fact that you came to me with a new idea, but as a young company, I need an experienced marketing director.”

  “Maybe you could hire me as an intern or something and I could work on developing this,” she counters, pushing her prototype catalog toward me. “You wouldn’t have to pay me much.”

  My gut tells me that she won’t be a good fit for this business. She’s got that doe in the headlights look, and I’m sure that she has never had the slightest interest in sex toys. In fact, she seems like the uptight, prim and proper type who has never even experienced a decent orgasm. That’s when it hits—a sexy little glint in her eye that makes me want to throw her a bone.

  “I’m not sure you’re a match for selling adult novelties, but I’ll make you a deal.” I reach back into the drawer to retrieve the prototype and place it on the desk right in front of her. I expect her to recoil, but she handles it in stride. “Take this home tonight and come back tomorrow morning with a sales pitch.”

  “A sales pitch?” she asks, looking it over warily.

  “Yeah, a marketing blurb that we can use on the website and in the catalog,” I explain, enjoying the look of concern on her face. “I think it should be written by a woman since we are selling to women . . . for the most part, anyway.”

  There is a noticeable tremble in her hand as she reaches for it and lifts it from the desk. “Are you saying I have to try it out? I heard you teasing the other lady about that.” Her expression darkens and she scowls at me. “I would like to work with you, but I’m not going to sign up for that kind of harassment.”

  “Sally and I have become good friends while working together. She teases me as much as I tease her,” I reply, hoping to illustrate the relaxed nature of our relationship. “Besides, I never said you had to use it. All you have to do is write a convincing sales piece.”

  “Cool! That I can do,” she asserts, shooting to her feet. “I’ll have it for you in the morning,” she says, taking it in one hand while reaching out to shake my hand with the other. Her enthusiasm is definitely something we could use around here, but I have to chuckle at the sight of her gripping that nine-inch cock. “Do you have a bag or something?” she asks timidly, suddenly realizing that she has no way of concealing it.

  I glance around the room, not seeing anything that would work. “Why don’t you ask Barb at the front desk if she has anything? I know we have gift boxes.” I can’t help smiling as she tucks her portfolio under one arm and heads toward the receptionist desk, plopping it down right in front of our receptionist. Barb is a little brown-eyed brunette, maybe five foot one, who has the uncanny ability to ignore any vulgarities in my comments. She’s kind of a little ice queen, which makes her the perfect fit for the role of receptionist at a sex toy company.

  My phone buzzes and it’s a text from Sally.

  Sally: You’ve already replaced me as product tester?

  Me: You had your chance. ; )

  Sally: My husband was home. It wasn’t bowling night. : (

  Me: When the shipment comes in, I’ll give you a complimentary one.

  Sally: Will the perks of this job never cease?

  Me: Never discount a
guaranteed “O”.

  Sally: Promises, promises. ; )

  I look up just in time to see Felicia awkwardly cradling an overstuffed box as she exits the office. I laugh out loud at the thought of her walking around with that package tucked under her arm. “He can be such a devil,” I hear Sally telling Barb as she follows Felicia out the door.

  “We’re going to need some different gift boxes if you’re going to start giving those things away,” Barb quips, popping her head into my office. “Things like that don’t fit well in a square box. That poor girl had quite an expression on her face as she tried to figure out what to do with the bulging head.”

  “Hey, some things aren’t meant to be caged,” I reply, giving her a wink.

  “You know who that was, don’t you?” she asks, completely ignoring my comment.

  “Felicia Connors, why?” I fold my fingers behind my head and lean back in my chair, bracing for what I don’t know about her.

  “I’m pretty sure she’s engaged to that Kip guy who plays for the Seahawks,” she adds, raising her eyebrows as if I’m in some kind of trouble.

  “Kip Taylor?” I ask, referring to the all-pro middle linebacker. “I played with him my sophomore year of college. He was one of the assholes who was always jacked up on steroids.”

  “Well, if you Google him and Felicia, I’m pretty sure you’ll see for yourself,” she says, turning to answer the ringing phone.

  Kip Taylor’s fiancée. That sucks. A glimmer of hope trickles in right after the initial blow, because there hadn’t been a ring on her finger while she was sitting in my office. I know that for a fact because I checked. If she purposely removed it prior to our meeting, that’s still a good sign as she wanted to portray herself as available. My thoughts drift back to a time when Kip had too much to drink at a mutual friend’s party and slammed me up against the wall. It was all because I pointed out the fact that he was getting a little overly zealous. I may have added something about all the steroids shriveling his balls too. It’s hard to recall every minor detail. Anyway, he made my shit list that night and remains there to this day. I’ll never forget the asshole grin he had on his face the night I blew out my knee. His expression is permanently etched in my memory. Now I truly hope that she tries out that cock because it’s definitely going to be an upgrade.