Amber stepped out of the Uber and onto the sidewalk in front of the towering skyscraper that housed the Washington Corporation. Her heels clicked on the pavement as she purposefully strode up to the revolving doors, head held high. She had received an unexpected email from her DNA match, Isaiah Washington, requesting a family meeting at the company headquarters.
Her mind raced back to that fateful day when she discovered he was her biological father. After a whirlwind of emotions and soul-searching, she decided to make contact and meet him. But now, walking into the lion's den, so to speak, her nerves were on edge.
Amber entered the atrium lobby, her eyes adjusting to the grandiose space. Sleek modern artwork adorned the walls. A massive floral arrangement centered the room, emitting the sweet scent of exotic blooms. She approached the reception desk, where a sleek brunette discreetly appraised her. Before she could open her mouth, Sandra appeared.
“Miss Amber, right this way, please.” She then directed her to the elevators.
Amber sat in the back corner of the conference room, furthest from the white marble table where Isaiah was to soon appear. Clad in a tight leopard outfit consisting of a bra and shorts to accentuate her curvy figure, her long curls flowed in a puff as usual, showing off her smooth skin. Her legs crossed, and she tapped her stiletto heel impatiently, waiting for whatever this was about.
As the room began to fill with more people, Amber heard a familiar voice enter the room. Her head slowly turned toward the sound, her eyes widening when she saw Damien, a former client, stroll in, all suave confidence. Her heart raced.
Her breath caught in her throat. He looked even more handsome than she remembered from their night together months ago.
"Well, well," Damien smirked when he spotted Amber. He made his way toward her, ignoring the other family members filing into seats. He plopped down in the chair right next to hers, his muscular thigh brushing against hers.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Amber hissed, trying to scoot away.
Damien leaned in real close, his warm breath tickling her ear. "I could ask you the same thing." His voice was low and deep. "This is a family meeting, and I work here. Plus, he's my father," he motioned his head toward Isaiah.”
Amber felt her stomach drop. No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. "No. No fucking way," she breathed.
Damien laughed. "Jeez, you didn't know?"
Amber swallowed hard. "I need to get the fuck out of here," she muttered, rising from her seat, heels clicking rapidly across the floor.
Just then, Isaiah walked into the room, looking regal in his tailored suit. He immediately approached Damien.
"What did you say to her?" Isaiah demanded, noticing her upset face. "She's a big part of this meeting."
Damien shrugged. "I told her you were my father. How do you know her?"
Isaiah's eyes flicked to Amber, then back to Damien. "She's your sister," he stated flatly.
Damien's eyes widened, his mind reeling. His soul seemed to exit his body, and he collapsed back onto the chair with a thud, nearly knocking it over, his mind reeling. Sister? His father had just dropped that bombshell without warning. All this time, Amber was his sister? He couldn't process it. The curvy beauty with the seductive smile, the one he couldn't get out of his head after their passionate encounter, was related to him. It felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs.
"What?" he croaked, looking like he might vomit. "No way."
Isaiah sighed and rubbed his temples. "Yes, way.”
Isaiah's voice echoed in his ears, snapping him out of his daze. "I know this is a lot to take in, son. But Amber is a part of our family. I'll explain later. Let's just focus on-"
But Damien wasn't hearing it. He jumped up and fled the room, looking ill.
- - - - -
Amber turned on her heel and fled, hand over her mouth to muffle a scream. She needed to get out of here, away from them both. Her mind was reeling, her stomach churning. What had she done? Dear God, what had she done...
She threw herself into a cab, directing the driver to the nearest dive bar. She needed to get drunk. Stat. Get far away. Forget this day, this revelation, this nightmare made reality.
Amber stumbled into the dimly lit bar, her Manolos clacking against the worn linoleum. The stench of stale beer and cheap perfume assaulted her nostrils. She made her way to the bar, hopped onto a rickety stool, and signaled the bartender for a double whiskey neat.
She downed whiskey after whiskey at the bar, going numb inside. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for her target. A white guy. Any white guy would do. She needed something to take her mind off Damien and Isaiah, even if it was just for a few hours.
Her gaze landed on a tall, broad-shouldered man sitting alone in the corner, nursing an empty beer bottle. He wasn't even her type with his thinning hair and beer gut, but she didn't care. She needed a dick in her, or she was going to lose her mind over Damien and Isaiah. Amber picked up her drink, slid off the stool, and sauntered over to him, her hips swaying.
"Hey there, handsome," she purred, running a manicured finger along his jawline. "Wanna fuck?"
The man stuttered, nearly spilling his drink. "Mmm... uh... okay," he managed, eyes wide with surprise and lust, looking her up and down hungrily. They hastily paid their tabs and stumbled out of the bar to the nearest hotel room.
As the door slammed shut behind them, Amber pounced on him like a feral cat, her fingers grasping at the collar of his shirt, tugging it open to reveal a chest that heaved with anticipation. Their mouths crashed together, her lips sealing over his, kissing him with a hunger that belied the relative strangers they were to each other. Her hands roamed his body, tugging at his shirt, pawing at his belt, seeking skin contact as if starved for it, fingers fumbling with zippers and buttons, desperate to divest him of his clothes. She shoved the fabric aside, running her palms over the defined muscles beneath. In a frenzy of adrenaline and lust, she barely noticed the glint of his wedding ring in the harsh neon glow of the hotel sign outside.
He stumbled back against the hotel room wall, allowing her to steer him towards the bed. Her lips never left his as she fumbled with his pants, finally managing to get them down around his ankles. "I want you," Amber breathed against his lips. Her hands dove into his boxers, wrapping around his thickening cock and squeezing. A groan escaped him as she stroked him to a full, pounding erection.
"Get these off," she growled, tugging at her own clothes with impatient hands. He helped her out of her top, shorts, and panties, all of which hit the floor in a crumpled heap. Now fully naked, she pounced again, pushing him down onto the bed and straddling him.
"You don't have any blacks in your family, do you?" she asked, her voice husky with need as her fingers traced the sweat-slicked lines of his torso.
He shook his head, already aching for her touch. "I don't think so."
Amber's gaze flicked down to his rigid cock as her fingers danced down his chest, curling around his thick erection, and a wicked smile played on her lips. "Have you ever fucked a black woman before?" She pumped him slowly, savoring the weight in her hand.
He flushed, his cheeks burning hot. "N-no," he stammered, his voice strained as she stroked him. "But I had a black girl sucked my dick in high school once."
Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and a wicked grin spread across her face with a hint of possessiveness. "Oh baby, I'm gonna rock your world."
Without warning, she sank down onto his length in one smooth motion, her sopping wet pussy enveloping his cock in a vice-like grip. He gasped at the sudden penetration, his hands flying to her hips as she began to ride him with reckless abandon.
"Fuck, yes!" she moaned, grinding her hips against his. "You like that, don't you? You like my tight pussy squeezing your dick?"
"Ah, fuck yea, baby," he groaned, lost in the sensation of her body writhing above him. "You feel so good..." Better than my wife, he thought.
She rode him harder, her breasts bouncing in his face, her moans and gasps filling the room. He plunged his fingers into her slick folds, feeling her clench around him as she neared her peak.
"Come on, baby, give it to me," she urged, her voice a husky command. "Fill me up with your cum. I want it all."
With a guttural cry, he obeyed, his cock spasming deep inside her as he unloaded a torrent of hot semen. The sensation seemed to trigger her own climax, and she collapsed on top of him, her pussy milking his cock for every last drop.
As they caught their breath, their bodies still intimately entwined, she leaned down to nuzzle his ear. "That was just the beginning," she whispered, a promise and a threat rolled into one. Amber laughed, a throaty, sexy sound, and continued to ride him with reckless abandon. And so they continued, lost in a sea of sweat and desire, fucking through the night.
They explored every position imaginable, each new angle of penetration sending shockwaves of pleasure through their sweat-slicked skin. Their moans and grunts echoed through the thin walls of the hotel room, a debauched serenade to the dark hour. They were two animals in heat, consumed by a primal need to claim and be claimed, to lose themselves in the moment and forget everything else.
As dawn began to peek through the grimy window, they collapsed together in a tangled heap, spent and sated. In the aftermath of their marathon, Amber nestled into his side, a contented sigh rumbling in her chest.
"You were amazing," he whispered, brushing a stray curl from her face.
"Thanks. You weren't so bad yourself," she murmured. "I think you can say I rocked your world," a lazy smile curved her lips.
He chuckled, his chest heaving with exertion. "I'd say that's an understatement."
And as he drifted off to sleep, the city stirring to life outside, she lay there in the dark, the married man snoring softly beside her, and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. This was her penance, her punishment for her wanton desires and reckless choices. Now, Damien was not just a forbidden sexual conquest but her actual sibling, the ultimate taboo.
She thought of his face in the meeting room, his shock and confusion mirroring her own. She knew her leaving abruptly had been selfish. He deserved an explanation. But she couldn't bear to see him, to look into his eyes and fight her own dark cravings. Because even after today, they hadn't faded.
Exhausted, emotionally and physically, she eventually drifted off to sleep. But her dreams were filled with Isaiah, his hands on her body, his lips trailing down her neck as he whispered her name in reverence. She woke with a start, aching and empty, knowing she had to face him eventually. Had to find some way to navigate this complicated web they found themselves entangled in. As father and daughter and secret lovers.
But as the sun began to creep in between the curtains, the man had to leave to return to his unsuspecting wife and kids. Amber barely noticed him go. Her pussy was still throbbing, her mind already planning her next move. She needed something more to erase the memory of Damien and Isaiah.
- - - - -
Days passed in an alcohol-soaked blur. She finally resurfaced, hollow-eyed and gaunt. She couldn't avoid the reality forever. Damien and Isaiah knew her now. And she knew them. The Washingtons. Her family. Goddammit.
When the email came from Isaiah, she wasn't surprised. He requested a meeting, just the three of them, to clear the air and figure out the next steps. She considered ignoring it, but something compelled her to agree. Maybe it was morbid curiosity; maybe it was a masochistic need for closure. Maybe it was the tiniest spark of familial obligation she didn't know she possessed.
They met at a neutral location, a posh French bistro. Damien and Isaiah were already seated when she arrived, looking like two peacocks displaying for the alpha hen.
"Amber," Isaiah greeted smoothly, rising to kiss her cheek. "Glad you could make it."
Damien just smirked, eyes dark with tumultuous emotion. He was gorgeous, as usual. Why did he have to be so damn hot, even now?
They ordered coffee and made small talk, sticking to bland pleasantries. The tension was thick, everyone tiptoeing around the elephant in the room.
Finally, Isaiah laid his napkin on the table. "Let's cut to it, shall we?" He cleared his throat. "Thanks for meeting with us, Amber. It was unfortunate when and how we met..."
"This situation is fucked," Damien interrupted, staring Amber down. "You're my sister, for Christ's sake. My sister and former whore."
Amber flinched at the crude term, but she deserved that, maybe. Probably. "I didn't know," she whispered. "About either of you. I swear."
"I know," Damien snapped. "Doesn't change a damn thing. You're still -"
"Enough," Isaiah barked. "No more. What's done is done. We need to figure out how to move forward."
"There is no forward," Amber said woodenly. "Not for me. I want nothing from you, Isaiah. Nothing. I'm out."
"Amber, please. Let me help. Give our family a chance. You have a place here, a legacy.”
"Speak for yourself. She was the best sex I've had," Damien whispered under his breath.
"DAMIEN," Isaiah yelled.
"What? She was..."
Amber couldn't help but smile. She agreed. They were both the best sex she'd ever had. Whether it was business or not. It was unfortunate that they were her brother and father now. Her pussy throbbed at the thought of their big cocks. She was getting wet. Her body betrayed her. Her mind drifted to the thought of fucking them both together. But Isaiah's voice brought her back to reality.
"Like all my children, I opened a trust in your name with multiple millions of dollars in it. It's a generous sum," Isaiah was saying. "I've also added you to the family heirloom. There is a position open at the company with your name on it. If you choose..."
"No, thank you. I'm done listening," she interrupted, standing abruptly. "I'm done with you, with him, with all of this. I'll send the lawyers my answer. Expect me to decline. Everything."
Amber wasn't interested in any of it, though. She didn't want his money or anything else from him. “I'll keep living my life the way I have been without you," she said haughtily, rising from the booth.
Amber laughed humorlessly. "I'm a whore, Isaiah. A call girl. And now you know I fucked your son. I'm not business material. I'm not anything you can use."
With that, she turned on her heel and walked out, her stilettos clicking on the tile, head held high as Damien glared daggers at her from across the street. She hailed a cab to the airport and never looked back.
Amber became a ghost. She had no intention of ever returning to their company or claiming any of Isaiah's supposed gifts. She was done with that whole family.
- - - - -
Years passed. Amber retired from her job as an escort and started a new life. She built an empire from the ashes of her old life. A woman to be reckoned with. A shark in the business world. Her reputation preceded her.
Until one day, it came time to diversify. To go big or go home. And when she did, only one company had the resources, the reach, the game-changing potential.
The Washington Corporation.
