Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“Wanna talk about it?”
“About what?” I said. “Andy? I don’t know what there is to say.”
“I think there’s a lot to say…” Her hands twisted in front of her, and it took me straight back to the night before, her riding his cock, then kissing his sopping wet mouth as I forced her face to his. I was horny and jealous again, all at the same time.
“You like him,” she smiled. “Like really like him. Not a crush thing like I have, I mean really really. But that bothers you, too, doesn’t it? Why?”
She’d nailed it. Nailed me. “What’s with the x-ray intuition today?” I spun my cocktail glass on the bar top, around and around in tiny little circles. “Yes, I like Andy. I always liked him, but that isn’t why I came back here. I came back for me, for my old life, for my share of the club. Andy was supposed to be a sweet little distraction, not a sweet little fuck-up.”
“And now you’re in deep.” She tipped her pretty little head from side to side. “Maybe he could still be the one who really means something… like you said in the book? Maybe it just wasn’t the right time back then?”
“It was a better time back then,” I said. “Before we got all messed up and angry. Before I got all messed up and angry. Before we both had a big point to prove. When we could just work together without the constant battle.”
“You used to work together without a battle? I can’t imagine that,” she smiled. “You’re both so… determined.”
“Bull-headed, you mean?”
“No,” her smile widened. “I didn’t mean bull-headed.”
“But if the hat fits?”
“He can be a little strong-willed,” she said. “You’re more, I dunno… passionate.”
“Highly strung,” I said. “That’s the term you’re looking for.”
“Maybe,” she laughed.
“Definitely.” I offered her a sample of my drink but she shook her head. “Andy would also add flighty and whimsical.”
“I’ve heard him use those words,” she admitted. “But he likes you. Like really likes you. I just don’t think someone like him knows how to handle someone like you. I don’t think he knows how to back down or kneel at your feet or whatever you want him to do. I’ve been here over two years, and I’ve never seen him come even close to giving way over something, not once, ever. He’s always had it all his own way, and that’s always been ok.”
“You’re making excuses for him. It’s sweet, but unnecessary.”
“Yeah, well, I like him, too.” She sucked her lip ring into her mouth and I wondered where her mind was at, if she was there, on his cock, with her cute little tits bouncing for him. “But I know my thing is a crush. He’s my boss, and I like him, even though he’s nasty to me at least eighty percent of the time,” she laughed. “He likes you, Faye. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. There’s no way you’d be here.”
“You do seem to be forgetting he doesn’t have a choice. I’m a legal director. We’re legally bound together fifty-fifty.”
She shook her head. “Your desk is in the same room as his, and he let you write on his chest in lipstick, he had a choice over those things.”
“You talk like they’re on the same scale of compromise.”
“Aren’t they? I’d never have imagined him letting you back in his office. That’s like the ogre’s domain.”
My cheeks burned at the memory. “I had to resort to physical warfare to get my desk in his office. I simply out-crazied him. As for the lipstick, technically he let me handcuff him to his chair, the rest was dubious consent at best.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” she said. “He looked like he was enjoying himself. I guess you’ll always just have to push him hard for what you want, and sometimes he’ll give in.”
“And that’s just it,” I said, “I don’t want to push him hard. I don’t want to out-crazy him, or fight him, or gag him so he can’t talk back. I want him to offer, I want him to give himself to me in the same spirit I give myself to him when he’s won the pissing coin toss. I want him to mean it. I want to be equals.” I was manic and unreasonable, I could see it in Topaz’s cute little button eyes. The twin terrors of rejection and frustration were snapping at my ankles, rearing up in the same way they’d done in Italy whenever Vincent poked me too pissing hard. But in Italy I’d subdued them, hidden them, learned to swallow them down under the threat of Vincent’s twisted lessons. Here was different. Here was so different. I didn’t want to back down, I wanted to stand tall, and I wanted to win. I just wanted to fucking win. Win something. Win him. I wanted him to be the one to bend for me. Fat fucking chance.