I gesture at my window. The view overlooks the city. “You figure it out. That’s what I’m paying you for. Philly’s a big damn place.”
“Right, and you’ve banged your way through most of it.”
“Now you’re out of line.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t pretend like you’re insulted. It’s the truth, you really have slept with at least half the female population of this city.”
I look at her through my eyelids, fighting back a smile. “Is it my fault I’m good at what I do.”
“That’s not relevant.”
“Are you sure? You seem to remember me very fondly.” I kiss the tip of my index finger, remembering the taste of her pussy on my lips. Magnificent.
Her cheeks turn pink. “Okay fine. How about we stick to the most recent conquests? Just the girls you’ve banged in the last week? Maybe one of them will be desperate enough to play wifey.”
I check my nails. “There haven’t been any.”
She looks stunned for a brief moment before laughing. She picks up Stellan’s used glass and tucks it under her arm. “Hilarious. Seriously, give me names?”
“I’m not kidding. There haven’t been any.” I lock eyes with her, holding back the primal urge to storm around this desk and to slam my dick in her defiant, pretty mouth. She has no fucking clue how difficult it’s been, flogging my dick in the shower, dreaming about her taste every day and not feasting on any actual pussy. I feel like my head’s in a constant fog.
But ever since that night at my house when I found her spread-eagle and knuckle-deep in her lovely cunt, I haven’t been able to bring another woman home.
Like I’m fucking ruined.
“Are you… sick?” She sounds genuinely concerned. “Did you finally catch something?”
“Not fucking funny.”
“I’m not joking! I’ve been your assistant for years and I’ve never seen you go more than a few days without dragging some poor girl to your bed.”
“None of them are dragged unless that’s what they’re into, then I’m happy to oblige a little kink between consenting adults.”
“Great, noted, you’re open minded. Is it syphilis?”
“Fuck off, Deanna, I’m not sick.” I rip open my bottom drawer and pull out my date book. It’s crammed with names and numbers, mostly written by the girls themselves. I toss it over and she clumsily catches it, nearly dropping the glass she plans on cleaning when she leaves. “There, happy? Back pages are more recent, front pages are old. Goes back a year.”
“Uh… thanks.” She flips through it. “Wow, I recognize some of these names. Holy shit, you actually fucked?—“
“Deanna,” I say warningly. “Respect the privacy of my lady companions.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure, but this one is in anactual movieright now, and?—“
“Deanna, am I going to have to punish that mouth of yours? I have plenty of inventive and fun ways of shutting you the fuck up, most of which involve my dick and your throat.”
The book snaps shut. For a beat, I think I’ve gone too far. It’s just that I’m so god damn pent up and she’s pissing me off. I think playing matchmaker is giving her some sense of power over me and it’s making her even more insufferable and mouthy than usual. Most days I don’t mind, and sometimes I even like it when she pushes my buttons, but right now I’m too frustrated to do anything but get hard and picture flogging her bare ass while she sucks my dick and moans my name. It’s not helping my fragile state of mind.
“I don’t think any punishments will be necessary, Mr. Spadaro,” she whispers, breath coming quickly. She holds the book up. “Thanks for this. I’ll get started right away.”
“See that you do.” I sit back, feeling guilty, cock rock hard, pulse hammering straight into my shaft.
She goes to leave, but pauses before she gets to the door. I think she’s going to turn back and take me up on the face-fucking I want to subject her to, but instead she frowns at me curiously.
“You never said… exactly what am I supposed to tell these girls?”
“I don’t follow.”
“I mean, why do you want a wife? For what purpose?”