by Alex Wolf
If we all hang out as a group, I won’t be tempted to flirt with Dex. I’ll have at least one distraction I can turn to if he does that smoldering gaze thing at me or rolls up his sleeves and I see his tattoos. This is perfect. I mentally congratulate myself for coming up with it on the fly.
My brain might be cursing me right now, but my body didn’t get the memo.
I do know one thing, though.
I got my smile.
Dexter
Covington must’ve enjoyed himself the other night, judging by this afternoon’s phone conversation. Wish the same could be said for me. I went home alone and rubbed one out in my bed thinking about Abigail. Fuck, the way her tits bounced in my little fantasy as she rode my cock. I don’t know if I’ve ever come that hard in my life.
Then, my thoughts went rogue on me. I couldn’t stop wondering if she went home with that pussy friend of hers. I got so fucking mad thinking about it I had to go for a run along the lake at two in the morning. It was cold as tits, and I ended up even more pissed than I was before.
Covington drones on in my ear about the brunettes and the freaky shit he made them do. Fuck, this dude is into some crazy stuff. Something about spreader bars and nipple clamps.
His goddamn sex life sounds like he lives in a torture dungeon. Not my thing, but it’s whatever. As long as they were both into it, who gives a shit if they like to put on dog collars and hang from the ceiling while they fuck?
For some godforsaken reason, though, I can’t stop thinking about Abigail and that prick friend of hers. It’s stupid. It’s not my business if she takes some asshole home from the bar, but the thought of her with another man has me all twisted up. I grip the phone tight in my palm and let out a long, frustrated sigh, trying anything to get the tension to leave my body.
Eventually, the conversation comes full circle and returns to business at hand. I’m ready to get out of here. It’s been a long and frustrating day, but this is the conversation I’ve been waiting for, and I can’t let all my hard work warming him up go to waste.
“All right, Collins. Give me the fucking pitch. You’ve worked hard all weekend for this opportunity like a patient little boy.”
I laugh. Nothing gets past this guy, no matter how laid back he seems. I can practically hear him smirk on the other end, and I have to appreciate how fucking cocky he is. Some things never change. In fact, some things get worse over time, and Covington is the most arrogant motherfucker ever. I like that about him. “Look, bitch.”
He laughs loud enough it booms through the phone. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this. Fuck, I miss the shit out of you. We spend too much time in boardrooms these days and not enough time at the bar.”
“You gonna let me pitch or what, asshole?”
He’s dying now. “Please proceed.”
I’m like a goddamn sales magician. “I’ll cut to the chase and save both of us the time. I head up finance and tax. We specialize in dealings with the SEC and IRS.” I tuck my phone between my cheek and shoulder as I exit my office for the day. I told Abby I’d meet her for drinks at The Gage.
“I’m aware. But you know this, so carry on.”
Biggest pitch of my life and I can’t stop thinking about Abigail.
Fuck. Get out of my head for two minutes, woman!
“I think we should have a discussion about what we can offer you. I know what you’re about to say… Bennett Cooper, blah blah…”
He cuts me off. “Absolutely. Let’s get something on the books for you to swing by the new place on the lake. We can try out the golf course I have on the property. I’ll have my people get in touch and see what we can set up.”
My eyebrows raise. “That’s it, asshole? You don’t want any specifics right now?”
He laughs again. “No, I’m good. Would’ve set this up over the phone if you’d asked, but it was good drinking tequila straight from the bottle with you.”
“Yeah, it was fun.”
“Hey, Collins?”
“Yeah?”
“You know I’m not loyal to Cooper. I go where the numbers take me. Everyone else follows. Bring your A game when we set a meeting.”
Adrenaline floods my veins and I’m on top of the world. This will be huge.
“Oh, and Collins?”
“Yeah?”
“Full disclosure, I have a meeting already set with Cooper when I get back to Manhattan, to discuss expanding his representation of my new holdings. He’s fucking good and business is business. It’s not personal, so if you want me, make it worth my time.”
Fuck! Fuck Bennett Cooper.
Bennett Cooper is the most pompous prick of all time. He represents damn near every heavy hitter on Wall Street, including Wells right now, and everyone in the industry lives in the shadows of Cooper and Associates. Not for long, after I’m done pilfering his clients.
I need Wells on board, bad. He’ll double the firm’s revenue. It could mean raises and bonuses for a lot of people, not just the partners. It could be life-changing for a lot of employees around here.
I set my worries aside. Wells will sniff weakness through the phone. “No problem. I welcome the competition.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Fuck, my life is good.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Of course, best attorneys in the world fighting over me. I can’t wait to see what the future holds. Better start getting creative. Cooper doesn’t fuck around and everyone in New York is aware of you gunning for his clients. I’ve heard the grumblings.”
“They should be grumbling. Maybe he should get better.”
Covington laughs. “There ya go. Looking forward to our meeting. Thanks for the eventful weekend.”
“No problem. Talk soon, pussy.”
I end the call and walk straight toward the elevator.
Fuck. Tecker is in there.
I groan inwardly. I love my brother, but Tate is a tough pill to swallow sometimes, and sometimes she’s awesome. Just depends on the day. I probably get along with her better than any of my brothers, besides Decker, of course. It’s my job. I’m the goddamn peacekeeper in the family. Always have been.
My brothers argue and give each other shit better than anyone, but Decker and Donavan have been at it for months. Usually, these little family altercations regarding business resolve themselves within a day or two. I’m going to have to do something soon because they’re both acting like petty assholes.
“Just the two people I wanted to see.” I smile at Tate. Someone has to combat all the glares she gets from Deacon and Donavan.
“Can’t wait to hear this,” says Decker.
“Just got off the phone with Covington. Wants me to swing by his new pad and talk shop. Maybe play a round of golf on his new course.”
Decker grins his ass off. It’s a sly grin. The one that forms on his face when big money is involved.
“Maybe I should go so you don’t embarrass yourself off the tee.” Tate smiles like she got me. “I’m sure he’ll show you his one wood over a nice dinner.”
Decker laughs. He loves it when she talks shit to us. This is probably foreplay for the two of them.
I laugh because it was pretty funny, and I can appreciate a good joke. “Tate, for Wells Covington’s business, I would wash his balls personally and take the one wood in all eighteen holes.”
She grins her ass off. “Nicely-played with the self-deprecation. Always a good defense tactic.”
I give her a little nod. “Thank you.”
As the elevator makes its way down, Decker attempts to change the subject. “How’s the rest of the new client roster shaping up?”
Did he not hear me? I’m about to land Wells Covington. “Fuck the rest of those minnows. I’m doing minimum maintenance on them. Covington is my priority right now.”
He shakes his head. “You’re putting too much time and risk into one potential client.”
“Yep.” Tate pops the p when she says it.
Just like that, the lighth
earted mood of the elevator evaporates.
Fuck these two. I’m thinking about the firm and all the direct and indirect revenue Wells would bring in. That could be a lot of Christmas bonuses for a lot of employees who don’t live in a fucking mansion off Lake Michigan like these two. “Look, I don’t tell you how to do your jobs. Don’t tell me how to do mine.”
Decker’s eyes narrow. “I’m the managing partner. I tell everyone how to do their goddamn jobs.”
My hands ball into fists. I need to control this anger rising up in me, but I just can’t leave it alone. “Then leave your little echo chamber in her office when you discuss mine with me. I don’t need her sitting back there making snide remarks.”
Tate’s mouth drops open. I’m not usually so harsh with her, and I feel a little bad about it, but fuck, I can see why Donavan and Deacon get flustered around her sometimes. She doesn’t know where her authority lies.
She folds her arms over her chest. “I’m a partner too, dickhead.”
“Yeah, there are lots of partners, yet you’re the only one here commenting on things that don’t concern you. I run finance. You don’t know a damn thing about it. You can go back to leading Decker around by the balls as soon as I get off the elevator.”
Decker gets in my face and grits his teeth. “You’re talking about the overall wellbeing of the firm. We’re not discussing SEC and tax dealings, we’re discussing client relations, which all partners are privy to be in on those strategies. And I’m telling you, you’re putting all your eggs in one basket and it’s reckless. It would create a high concentration on our books from one source of revenue.”
“Jesus Christ, what a terrible problem to have. And once Covington brings in more clients, which he would, that risk would disappear. As long as we don’t take out idiotic loans against future revenue or buy another fucking building, we’d be fine. He can open up a lot of new avenues.”
“Look, I hear you, asshole. It’s just my job to be skeptical and protect what we have. Covington is a whale. Dedicate some time to him, sure, but do not neglect anyone else at his expense. Is that understood?”
I shrug. “Fine, Dad. Anything else?”
“Yes. Apologize to Tate.”
I laugh.
He looks serious.
“Decker, don’t…” Tate grabs him by the forearm. “I was talking shit first. I thought it was lighthearted and fun, but the conversation took a turn.”
I glance over at Tate. She looks sincere. I know she cares. I’m sure she’s dealt with assholes talking down to her ever since she became an attorney. “No, he’s right, Tate. Sorry. I shouldn’t have made things personal.”
“Apology accepted.”
Decker glares back and forth at Tate and me. “Fuck, I can’t with this place. Bunch of children.” The elevator dings and Decker scurries out like he wants far away from everyone.
Tate grins at me. “I think we just aged him five years. He’s gonna go gray up top before long.”
“Down below too. Ol’ silver crotch.”
We both die laughing.
“I can hear you assholes!” Decker shoots a middle finger up at us and doesn’t bother to turn around.
I drop by my place to change into something more casual and then head to The Gage.
When I arrive, I find Abigail at a table drinking whiskey. It’s weird and, at the same time, I have to smile. I’m surprised to see her sitting alone, and I wonder how many men she’s waved off since she got here. Judging by some of the dirty looks as I walk up, I’d say a few.
Eat shit, assholes. She’s mine.
She looks up from her drink and smirks. “You came.”
Her reaction makes me feel a little assholish. I was pretty short with her at work, but I had a lot going on, and I didn’t appreciate being kept up all night with thoughts of her fucking some other guy. It wasn’t her fault my mind was being a dick, but still.
“Said I’d be here. Getting started without me?”
“It was a long day, and I really needed this drink. Some guy was being a jerk at work.”
“Give me his name and I’ll write his ass up.”
She grins and takes another drink as I slide into the empty seat to her left. I order a Booker’s bourbon neat and an intense silence stretches between us.
“So, banana pudding? That’s your go to?”
“Hah!” She slaps her palm down on the table. “You were listening.”
“I was in a mood.”
“Because…”
I trace a finger along the rim of the rocks glass. “Not important. Back to this pudding phase. I’m sure butterscotch and banana are fantastic, but chocolate is king. Everyone knows this.”
“You ever had homemade banana pudding?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Then, it’s settled. I’ll make it for you, and it’ll blow your mind.”
I can think of another thing I’d like her to blow with those cherry-red lips. Wrap them around my cock while I make a fist in her hair.
“Dex?”
I snap out of my fantastic thoughts. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
“I’ll make some pudding and bring it to work for you.”
“Oh yeah. That’d be nice.” Why are we talking about pudding so much?
“Don’t doubt my pudding skills. I work magic with bananas.”
Fuck.
I’m going to need to adjust my dick if she keeps talking like this. I know she did it on purpose.
“Abigail!”
The high-pitched voice comes out of nowhere and the masculinity held within is questionable at best. What the fuck?
“Kyle!” Abigail waves at him, practically bouncing in her seat.
What. The. Fuck.
Is she trying to piss me off on purpose? Is this payback for earlier at work?
I glance over my shoulder and the bitch from the club the other night pulls up a chair along with two other guys, and the fact I refer to them as ‘guys’ is extremely polite.
“Hey, man.” He sticks his hand across the table.
I leave his hand hanging in the air because fuck him and fuck this.
Abigail’s brows knit together. “Dex, you remember Kyle, right? You met at PRYSM, before you left with your friend and a couple of women.”
So she was paying attention.
“Sorry.” I shake my head right at Kyle. “Wasn’t a very memorable night.”
Man, I need to get out of here. My heartbeat pounds in my ears every time Kyle and his friends so much as breathe in my direction.
And the hell it wasn’t a memorable night. I can’t stop thinking about her tight body and that clingy red dress riding up her damn thighs. How bad I wanted to bury my face between them and get a taste. I want to fuck her in that dress so bad my balls ache thinking about it.
Kyle interrupts our conversation. “This is Craig and Seth. Some of my work buddies.”
“You’re old enough to drink?” I take a sip of my one-hundred and twenty-five proof bourbon. It slides down my throat and heats up my chest.
“Dude, I’m like twenty-seven.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes.
I feel like a goddamn babysitter. I bet they still live at home with their parents. Why in the fuck do I even need to compete with these jerk offs? This is a total waste of my time. I’m better than this.
Abigail.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Abigail slides out of her seat and jerks on my arm.
“If you’ll excuse me, ladies.” I give them a head nod, coupled with a smile, and down the rest of my drink.
Abigail grabs my arm and tugs, leading me toward the bathrooms away from her little reverse harem I’ve been made a part of. I don’t compete for a woman’s attention and I’m not about to start now. She invited that fucker who was grinding all over her the other night. That’s some bullshit. I thought it would be the two of us. She never mentioned Kyle and his piss pot friends tagging along, or I’d have told her to kick rocks.
; “What the heck was that back there?”
I shrug. “What?”
She throws her hands up and gets all animated.
Fuck, she’s even cuter when she’s irritated. I stare at her lips, and it’s hard to concentrate on her words.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re being rude to my friends.” Her manicured nail pokes into my chest.
I glance at my watch like I’m late for a meeting. “You finished?” I don’t do dramatics and bullshit either. I’m not playing these games. That’s what I tell myself, even though I’m clearly entertaining them. It’s about to end soon, though. If she wants to have a bunch of pussies fawning all over her and hanging onto every word she says she can have it. I thought she was cool, but maybe I had her all wrong. I’m starting to think she gets off on male attention. Maybe she has self-esteem issues or something, and I hope she gets it worked out if she does, but I won’t be part of the solution.
“Somewhere else you’d rather be?”
“I gotta go.” I don’t wait for her to respond. I stop off at the bar and pay for our drinks.
Jimmy, the bartender says, “And theirs?” He gestures to the three ass clowns.
“They can buy their own. Here, this is extra for you because I’m sure they don’t tip for shit.” I slide a twenty across the bar.
“Thanks, Dex.”
“No prob. See you later.”
Sliding quickly through the crowd, I make my exit. Out on the sidewalk I scrub a hand over my face and let out a sigh. Fuck this fucking day.
“Hey!” Abigail comes out of the shadows, ninja-style, like she just teleported in front of me, and flies up in my face.
What the hell?
I stumble back for a second before I catch my balance. “You trying to give me a fucking heart attack? Christ!”
There’s a fire in her eyes that turns me on like no other. She’s practically seething, her arms flying around all animated as she lets me have it. “What the hell is your problem?”
My eyes widen and I just stare at her. She must be blind as a goddamn bat if she doesn’t know what’s going on here. “What’s my problem?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said, dickhead.” Both her hands go to her hips.