The Love of Money II
Copyright© 2025 by MindSketch
Chapter 67
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 67 - Marcus and the others are no longer just surviving the world—they’re shaping it. Erin has always known what she wants. Now she’s orchestrating it. Helen is learning that submission isn’t surrender. Bobbi, stripped of her old identity, stands at a crossroads. New women cross his path. Old ones return. Some hand him their heart. Some, a leash. Some, a knife in the back. And then there are the ones waiting for him to stumble. It's hard to rest when you have a target painted on your back.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Coercion Consensual NonConsensual Reluctant Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Rags To Riches BDSM DomSub MaleDom FemaleDom Light Bond Rough Sadistic Spanking Group Sex Harem Orgy Interracial Black Female White Female Oriental Female Indian Female Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Exhibitionism Facial Massage Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy Sex Toys Squirting Voyeurism Big Breasts Small Breasts Slow Violence
Monday, October 21st, 10:40 am
“Crikey!”
The gym thundered as Tara’s body slammed into the wall, the side of her head planting into its padding, teeth gritted ... eyes screwed shut. I threw myself at her, slipping my fingers around a slender wrist as I tried to put her in a lock.
Tara knew what I was going to do and countered, performing a complicated twist that prevented me from finishing the lock and allowed her just enough maneuverability to spin so that her back was against the wall. She struck at my neck with her free hand, but I’d expected it and managed to close my fingers around her other wrist. Slamming both of them against the wall, I moved my body in close. My chest brushed hers as our faces were inches apart. I could smell the sweat beading along her forehead and sliding down her temples ... her rapid breathing washing over my face.
“Give up?” I panted.
She looked up at me through her lashes, and I was struck by that natural blue smolder in her eyes. A drop of sweat slipped down the tip of her nose and plummeted, drawing my attention to the deep cleavage of her turquoise sports bra. The glance was so fast that I barely even registered that I’d done it, but she did.
I looked back up and saw a ghost of a smile on her lips.
She lifted her feet off the floor, making herself heavy. My arms straightened as her weight dragged my shoulders forward and threw my balance off.
She had me.
I can’t explain exactly how she did it, but one moment I had her pinned against the wall, and the next, I found myself lying on my stomach with Tara sitting on my ass, facing away from me. She already had my ankles and yanked hard, pulling them as far back as she dared. My quads screamed in protest.
“Augh! Fuck!”
“Give up?” she asked, using my words against me.
I gritted my teeth and kept silent. She pulled a little harder.
“Fine! I give up!”
The tension in my legs vanished, and Tara rolled off my ass and onto her knees beside me. She sat on her heels, hands resting on her thighs as she sucked down oxygen.
Neither of us moved for a full minute.
It was the end of a long and grueling workout.
The gym had changed in the months since I’d first started with Tara. The state-of-the-art equipment I started with had become even more advanced, with computer screens that tracked movement speed, sets, repetitions, and weight in both standard and metric units. It hadn’t just gotten fancier, though. Extra exercises had been added—an assault bike, a sled straddling a strip of AstroTurf, a heavy punching bag, massive tires, bags filled with sand...
Tara appreciated precision machines, but she also maintained that there was a place for more rudimentary equipment, claiming there was just no substitute for flinging bags of sand over your shoulder or tossing a tractor tire. There wasn’t a thing in here that didn’t see use.
And today, she’d pushed me.
Hard.
Or maybe it would be more accurate to say I’d made her push me.
The meeting with Nicholas and Aurelia had done something to me. Similar to when I returned from Vegas, I’d come home from The Starlight with new resolve. Any complacency had been obliterated in the flames of my burning frustration with the Wyns, Hiro Tanaka, and the wealthy community at large. What was left was the determination that, if it ever came to some kind of war, I would be the last man standing.
Fuck Hiro. Fuck Amber. Fuck Nicholas, and fuck all those unnamed people who thought I was making a little too much noise. They could’ve talked to me... reasoned with me. Instead, every single goddamn one of them had thought they could simply swing their metaphorical dicks around and try to screw me.
Nick’s words ran circles in my head.
There’s people in New York. Well-connected people who don’t think too highly about you inserting yourself so firmly into areas of the city they consider theirs.
Well, tough shit ... I wasn’t going anywhere.
So, after spending a little time trying to process the conversation with Nick, I took my frustrations out on the girls Rose had brought with her. It had been a marathon fuck that had lasted till well after the last customer had left and the other dancers had gone home.
Then I’d needed most of Sunday to recover.
And now, here I was doing it all over again ... in the gym with Tara.
I rolled over onto my side and looked at her. The loose gray T-shirt she wore over her sports bra was nearly soaked through and hung limply on her body. The collar had been cut away so that it draped off one shoulder, leaving it bare, save for the strap of her sports bra. Almost half the bottom had been cut away, leaving her midriff completely bare so that I saw hints of turquoise teasing along the hem.
Strands of darkened brown hair clung to her, with more wisps framing her pretty heart-shaped face. She was staring at me, still drinking in oxygen.
“Did you say ‘crikey’?”
She snorted and looked away, trying her best to suppress an amused smile.
“You surprised me with that throw,” she said. “Bit more aggressive than I expected...” Her smoky eyes turned back to me. “Looked like you were working through some stuff.”
I rolled over onto my back, then winced as a tender spot pressed against the mat. I adjusted my position so that it hurt a little less.
“Just dealing with some assholes,” I sighed. “Seems like the one percent is full of them.”
“Does that make you an asshole?”
I stared at the ceiling. Part of me was still worried that I would eventually turn into one.
“Well, if you keep beating the asshole out of me like this, I won’t ever get the chance.”
She snickered and rose to her feet. “Just doing my job.” She held out a hand, offering to help me up. “How’s the back?”
I took it, and she hauled me to my feet.
“It’s fine ... getting better. Thanks for working around it.”
“You’re paying me for results,” Tara said, undoing the tape around her wrists. The subtle ripple of lean, glistening muscle gave her a feline quality—sleek and graceful. “Can’t let a little thing like having someone pull you through a window stop you from gettin’ your reps in.”
“That would be tragic,” I said, my eyes lingering a little bit longer on her while I thought she wouldn’t notice.
Then I turned and made my way to the recovery area. A fridge stood against the wall, full of energy drinks, electrolyte-infused water, sports drinks, and energy bars. I opened the door to retrieve one, calling out over my shoulder, “Want anything?”
“Water, please,” she said.
I grabbed one, shut the door, and turned around only to see her standing a few feet from me, watching me with a guarded expression. I met her gaze and cracked open her water, offering it to her and feeling like there was something she wasn’t saying.
She studied the bottle for a moment as if it held some deep, dark secret, then took it.
We stood in silence, sipping on our drinks for a couple of minutes.
“So when are we going to do this?” she asked.
I paused mid-sip and looked at her.
Tara leveled her gaze at me. “Don’t you dare ask me what I’m talking about.”
“We?”
She just stared up at me. I couldn’t tell whether she was mad or amused that I was playing dumb. It wasn’t immediately obvious, but I could tell she was nervous by the way she played with the lip of her bottle.
“You, me, and Erin,” she said.
The mere mention of the three of us together sent a thrill of arousal coursing through a body that barely felt strong enough to lift a drink to my lips. Tara and Erin—two of the most perfect women I’d ever seen, in my bed.
I leaned against the fridge, managed to set my drink on top of it, and crossed my arms over my chest as I stared at her. “Is that what you want?”
Tara worked her bottom lip between her teeth. She didn’t immediately answer ... just met my stare. I wanted an honest answer, so I wasn’t about to do her any favors and break the silence, no matter how uncomfortable it got.
“Yes,” she finally said.
“I need more than that.”
Her eyes flared with heat—not quite annoyance, but something close.
Before she could say anything, I continued. “Like I said, I’m not just some chore or obstacle in your way. If we’re going to do this, you have to actually want it.”
“You’re asking an awful lot of a girl like me.”
I shrugged. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, but Erin is mine. We’re a package deal.”
Tara quirked an eyebrow. “It feels very fifteen twenty-four in here.”
“Ask her yourself,” I said, unbothered by her accusation of misogyny. “She’ll say the same.”
“Look,” I continued, “I’m not asking you to get on your knees and beg me for anything. If you’re even a little into the idea, then let’s do it, but you’re not going to make me feel like a chore.”
Her eyes slid down my torso, flicked to my arms, then slowly traveled back up to meet my gaze. She took a deep breath.
“I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was at least curious,” she said. “I’ve thought about sleeping with a bloke a couple of times before.”
“And it never happened?”
She shrugged. “Never worked out.” She glanced back down to my chest again, unable to look me in the eye as she said, “I may have thought about it a time or two with you.”
She looked back up and must have seen the disbelief on my face.
“Oh, everyone’s at least a little on the sexual spectrum. I’m into girls, but I’ve noticed a pretty boy or two, and as much time as we spend together all hot and sweaty, is it really that hard to believe?”
“You’re talking an awful lot for someone who can’t just come out and say it.”
She gave me an exasperated little smile. “Fine, then. Marcus Upton, would you like to be the first man to get in my knickers?”
I hadn’t expected her to be that cavalier. It drew a laugh out of me.
She, however, didn’t seem as amused by her choice of words. Her gaze was steady ... and she was still fiddling with that bottle.
Yeah ... She was definitely nervous.
This confident, sexy goddess was standing before me... nervous.
I was torn. I wanted this woman. I wanted to strip her naked and lick the sweat off every inch of her body. I wanted to absolutely ravage her ... to make her scream and ruin her for women forever.
But I liked Tara, and I didn’t want to be with her if she truly hated it.
It was my turn to look away, and I suddenly found the drinks in the fridge much more interesting as I thought of what to say to her.
“Unless,” Tara said hesitantly, “you don’t want...”
“God, no!” I said, snapping my attention back to her. “That’s not it at all!”
She dipped her head, blushed, and smiled, looking absolutely pleased and possibly even a little shy.
“I like you, Tara ... I really do, and just like every other person attracted to women, of course, I think you’re stunning, and I’d be incredibly lucky to be your first. I just want to make sure I’m not putting you in a position you don’t want to be in.”
“Does it have to be just the two of us?”
I wasn’t sure what she meant.
“Our first time,” she said, reading my confusion. “You and me ... without Erin?”
“Oh,” I said. “No. That’s not necessary.”
That seemed to make her feel a little more comfortable.
A few more moments of silence stretched between us, where we lost ourselves in thought and rehydration.
She broke the silence again and said, “So I’ll ask again—when are we going to do this?”
Tara’s lips were slightly parted, and I was mesmerized by them—a pair of perfect pink lips in the shape of a beautiful Cupid’s bow. What would she do if I tried to kiss her right now? How would she react if I reached up and slid that turquoise strap down her shoulder? Would she like it if I pressed my lips to her exposed skin?
My gaze traveled back up to hers, and I seriously considered leaning in for a kiss...
“Mr. Upton?”
My name cut through the tension in the air like Moses parting the Red Sea.
Our eyes lingered on each other for a beat longer, and then I looked to my left to see Emiko standing near the entrance of the gym.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Miss Malik asked me to come get you. She and Miss Tanaka are waiting for you in the media room.”
“Sachiko’s here?” I asked, alarmed.
“Yes,” Emiko said. She glanced at Tara, then back at me. It was a subtle hint that she would have said more if Tara hadn’t been with me.
Assuming it wasn’t wise to ask more about why Sachiko was here, I stuck with a safe question. “Why are they in the media room?”
“A crew is here to install new security and data features in your office. It will be unavailable for the next three days.”
The house was always scheduled for some kind of upgrade—new fixtures in all the bathrooms, heated floors in the master bath, or an antique pool table worth a couple of hundred thousand. I’d recently requested that one of the unused lower floors be refitted as a medical facility and as a place for private research and development. I could have people fund research into cancer and other diseases and recruit some of the finest minds to work on cutting-edge technologies.
And, of course, find out what the hell kind of chemicals the Wyns were using on that island.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll be right out.”
Emiko inclined her head, then left.
I turned back to Tara. “Tonight.”
She was still watching Emiko, and my declaration seemed to have caught her off guard. “Tonight?”
“Yeah.”
She eyed me. “And Erin will be there? Do we need to check with her first?”
“No,” I said. “Erin will be there.”
Something about that must have aroused her; she licked her lips thoughtfully before tucking her bottom lip between her teeth. She glanced at the door again.
“I...”
“You started this conversation, Tara,” I said.
“I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.” She looked back at me. “Where? Your room?”
“Your apartment,” I said. “I think you’ll be more comfortable there.”
She seemed to warm to the idea faster now that I was making all the decisions—it was clear she was still nervous about being with a man. Hell, she was probably just as nervous about being with Erin. Tara had been lusting after my assistant since the moment she laid eyes on her. The idea of finally having sex with her had probably been hyped to the point that the bar was really high.
And I’d do everything in my power to make sure it lived up to her expectations.
Once again, my instinct was to close the distance between us and get close ... lower my voice to a husk and say something sexy about Erin. It’s something that would have worked on Helen or even Erin.
But now that we’d been interrupted, I became a little more cautious, and I realized that what worked with the other women might not work with Tara. She didn’t share the others’ proclivity toward men.
“What do you want her to wear?” I asked.
“She can wear whatever,” Tara said. “It’s not like it’ll stay on her.”
I shook my head. “Presentation isn’t everything, but don’t discount it. This is a big night. Erin should have something nice on when we undress her.”
The use of the word we was important. I wanted to make sure she understood that I was part of this.
“There are a lot of impractical outfits in her wardrobe,” I prodded. “Even I haven’t seen them all.”
“She have a schoolgirl outfit?” Tara said.
I blinked. “That was fast.”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think.”
“I’m sure she does,” I said.
She took a deep breath, and I could hear the nervous flutter in her exhale.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she said.
“Me either,” I said, suddenly a little nervous myself.
Sure, I could bring just about any woman home, but none of them would be Tara—the woman I’d harbored a deep lust for that burned a little brighter with every pushup and every lunge. I didn’t want her to come out of this experience unable to look me in the eye.
But displaying that nervousness wouldn’t help matters, so I tried my best to keep my cool as she looked up at me.
“I’d like you to wear something special too,” I said.
That surprised her. “Oh? What’s that?”
“That.” I nodded at her.
Her eyebrows rose as she looked at me in disbelief. She pointed at herself. “What? This?”
“It doesn’t have to be that exactly, but one of your trainer outfits,” I said.
Her confusion grew. “Of all the things you could see me in ... I have some really nice bra and panty sets...”
“Maybe some other time,” I said, “but that’s not what’s had me on edge every time I work out. It’s this.” I gestured at her. “The Lycra and the messy ponytails—that’s what’s been doing it for me. I want you.”
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