Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
I roll my eyes. “Because the only possible reason I could be in a good mood is if I met someone, right?”
“I think you should go through your messages. Vanessa has left several—she sounds frantic.”
“Okay.” I open my email and scan my inbox.
Jenny disappears and then walks in and puts my burner phone onto the desk in front of me. “Here, you can do it now.”
I pick it up, turn it off, and throw it in my top drawer.
“Who is she?” she asks.
Ugh . . .
“Not now, Jen.” I sigh. “Me and you aren’t dating. You do know that, right?”
“Of course I do,” she snaps angrily.
“So why do you care?”
“I don’t. I just think you should keep your options open, that’s all.”
“Okay.” I open an email. “I will.” I skim through my emails some more. “How’s Martin?”
“He’s good.”
“Why don’t you go and call him, organize his life?”
She exhales heavily. “I’ll be at my desk.”
I widen my eyes. Like you should be.
“Our new intern starts today,” she reminds me.
“Okay, thanks.”
She closes the door behind her, and I turn on my chair and wince.
Fuck, I’m sore. That damn tight pussy is like a cheese grater. I take out my phone from my pocket and text.
Good morning, Miss Drinkwater.
My cock is sore.
The dots start bouncing, and I smile as I wait for her reply.
Serves you right.
That thing is a lethal weapon.
At least you can walk.
I chuckle and type.
I’ve made you an appointment with the Department of Vital Records today at 3pm.
I see the dots bounce again.
Why?
I swivel on my chair and smile as I type my reply.
After last night I think it’s appropriate to legally change your name from Drinkwater to Drinkcome.
The dots bounce once more.
What can I say . . . there was a delicious drink on offer.
#thirsty
Knock, knock. The door bursts open. “Hey,” Antony says.
#thirsty
I smirk and put my phone screen down.
He flops onto the couch in the corner of my office.
My phone vibrates, and I turn it over to read.
Seriously though.
Your dick is perfect!
“I came to see how last night went,” he replies.
I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from smiling. “It was okay. I guess.”
“Just okay?”
I shrug. “Yeah.”
“So . . . did you go over there?” He frowns.
“Uh-huh. And lucky I did too. That fucker Mason showed up and asked her out.”
“I knew it.” He smiles. “I was onto him. He was trying to tune her all night.”
“Did you sort him out?”
“Not yet.”
I reread her text.
Seriously though.
Your dick is perfect!
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
“What?” I try to refocus. “Nothing, why?”
“You look all . . . creepy?”
Another knock sounds at the door.
“Come in,” I call.
The door opens, and a young woman comes into view. She has long dark hair and is dressed modestly in almost Amish clothing. She has the most beautiful big brown eyes. “Mr. James, I just wanted to come and meet you, sir. I’m May. I’m starting today as the new intern.”
She’s sweet and innocent, young and naive.
“Hello, May.” I stand and walk to her and hold out my hand. “We’re very excited to have you with us. Welcome aboard.”
“Thank you,” she replies softly. Her eyes flick to Antony. “Hello.” She smiles shyly.
Antony stands.
“This is Antony, one of my friends.”
“Hi.” He shakes her hand.
His tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he stares at her, and it looks like he wants to eat her whole.
Fuck.
“You come to me if anyone gives you any problems,” I tell her.
“Yes, sir,” she replies softly. “I will.” She nervously looks at Antony, and I can smell his erection from here.
“Nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” Antony murmurs.
She walks to the door, and we watch her leave. The door shuts behind her.
He turns to me.
“Don’t even fucking think about it,” I snap. “You keep away from my intern.”
He rolls his eyes and slumps onto the couch. I read Juliet’s message again.
Seriously though.
Your dick is perfect!
“We should go celebrate with coffee,” I tell him.
“What are we celebrating?”
“Juliet thinks my dick is perfect.” I smile.
“Ugh . . . fucking hell.” He rolls his eyes. “She must be desperate.”
It’s just now 8:30 p.m., and I flick through Netflix.
Owoooooooooooo. The coyote call sounds over the fence. And I roll my eyes.
That fucking mutt.
Juliet is on afternoon shift, and true to form, the dog is being a nightmare.
Owoooooooooooo.
He hates it when she’s at work too . . . I mean, not that I do. I couldn’t care less what she does.
He carries on some more, and I open my back door. “Shut up,” I yell.
He barks again.
“Shut. Up!”
He goes quiet.
“That’s more like it.” I go back to Netflix. I need a new series or something. I begin to scroll through. Yellowstone. I pause and read the blurb. Maybe this. I press play and settle in.
Ten minutes later, I see something from the corner of my eye in the reflection on the glass. Huh?