Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
“Yeah, a spell. More like you’re dick drunk on Theo Goldman’s cock.” My face flames red. The temperature heating up in her office and the summer clothes I am wearing are not cooling me off. “Wait, you didn’t tell me things went that far.”
“What? No. Nope. It didn’t.” I cover my face with my hands, fingers opening a little to get a look at Mallory. She’s not going to give up this conversation, so I may as well admit what did happen. “Okay, fine, I felt a very big impressionable presence after he finally let me down from his fireman hold. Remind me to never mouth off at Theo again.” I don’t elaborate on how he held me pressed up against him for more than a second. His thick dick notched at my center about had me dropping to my knees. Me, Danica Powers, on her knees voluntarily to beg for a look of a man’s cock? Who am I?
“Are you sure this is okay, you working for him? I told him it’s ultimately up to you.” I shrug my shoulders. Is working for Theo Goldman up close and personal a good idea? Probably not. Am I going to take the job for the sheer joy of watching him eat a dinner I prepared? Hell yes.
“I’m sure, and when or if I have my doubts, we’ll talk them out.”
“My door is always open. You’re also aware that there isn’t a fraternization policy in place. Your job is always safe here, no matter what. I’d take that man for a ride myself if I were about fifteen years younger.” We both laugh. She could absolutely go after Theo or any other man younger than her. Mallory may be hitting her mid-fifties, but she’s still a fox.
“We’ll see. Help me figure out what meal I can butcher for him, and then I’ll be on my way. Someone has to work around here,” I joke. She knows full well that while she might sit in an office these days, it was her who did the hard work for years before she made Clean and Gleam the smashing success it is today.
ELEVEN
Theo
“Honey, I’m home,” I announce, stepping off the elevator. My penthouse is usually well kept. Since Danica has been cleaning it, it’s spotless. There’s a noise coming from the kitchen, so I head that way. Mallory called earlier today telling me Danica accepted the job, but if I screwed up and did anything to hurt her employee in any way, she’d go after my money and my name. I’m glad Danica has Mallory in her corner. It didn’t seem like she has a whole lot of good from what I’m learning.
“Hello, dear. Did you have a good day at the office?” Danica’s voice is dripping with sarcasm when I walk into the kitchen. She’s putting some type of cheese on what looks like a pasta dish with red sauce.
“I did. Is that for me?” I unbutton the sleeve of my shirt. My jacket was already discarded when I walked through the door. Danica’s eyes track what I’m doing, and she licks her lip as I fold the sleeve back one fold at a time. I repeat the process with the other side, taking my time, liking how she can’t stop watching me. Her eyes only leave me when I pull a barstool out, sit down, and look at the woman in front of me. Dani is wearing another tank, this one not see-through compared to the one she wore yesterday. It still gives me the outline of her bra, of her tits that are too big for her tiny frame. I want to rip her shirt and bra down her arms, trapping them in place as my hands and mouth feast on them. My cock hardens and my mouth salivates at the thought of tasting Danica.
"It sure is." She clears her throat. My gaze moves from her body to the plate as she moves it across the kitchen island.
“A man could get used to coming home to a pretty woman, clean house, and dinner ready.” She places a fork and knife in front of me as well as a napkin but stays on the other side of the island, arms crossed beneath her chest, watching as I take my first bite.
“Good luck finding a woman who would do this willingly without being paid.” Sarcasm pours from her mouth, and now I’m thinking about how to put that saucy mouth of hers to good use. Soon, I’ll have her. She’ll be mine even if she’s reluctant at first. I’ve got no problem using my fingers, mouth, or tongue in order to get what we both want. I tuck into my food, forgoing the knife. No one I know cuts their pasta. Jesus, Italians would cuss me black and blue. I twirl the pasta around the fork, grab a piece of garlic bread she has set off to the side, and bring the bite to my mouth. The minute my tongue hits the pasta, I’m trying to choke down the food. There’s not a hint of tomato, garlic, or onion. In its place is nothing but salt. I cough in order not to choke. There’s no way I can look Danica in the face right now. She’ll know exactly what I think her version of spaghetti tastes like. It tastes like shit. I had no idea you could fuck something up that’s this easy to make. It can’t be that hard—brown some meat, add a jar of sauce to it once it’s done and you don’t want to make the marinara from scratch, but Jesus Christ, I’d bet my left nut she added a cup of fucking salt. I swallow the bite, using the garlic bread as a chaser since I was dumb and didn’t grab a drink before sitting down, and Danica sure as shit didn’t offer one.