by Wolf, Alex
Dirty Playboy
Sloane Howell
Alex Wolf
Contents
1. Rick Lawrence
2. Mary Patrick
3. Rick Lawrence
4. Mary Patrick
5. Rick Lawrence
6. Mary Patrick
7. Rick Lawrence
8. Mary Patrick
9. Rick Lawrence
10. Mary Patrick
11. Rick Lawrence
12. Mary Patrick
13. Rick Lawrence
14. Mary Patrick
15. Mary Patrick
16. Rick Lawrence
17. Mary Patrick
18. Rick Lawrence
19. Mary Patrick
20. Rick Lawrence
21. Mary Patrick
22. Rick Lawrence
23. Mary Patrick
24. Rick Lawrence
25. Rick Lawrence
26. Mary Patrick
27. Mary Patrick
28. Rick Lawrence
29. Mary Patrick
30. Mary Patrick
31. Dominic Romano
32. Mary Patrick
33. Dominic Romano
34. Mary Patrick
35. Mary Patrick
Epilogue
Also by Sloane Howell
Also by Alex Wolf
About Alex Wolf
Rick Lawrence
I’ve been in love with Mary Patrick for one hundred and ninety-two days and I have no idea how it happened.
It still blows my mind.
Regardless, I’m obsessed with her, have been from the first time I saw her in her little conservative outfit, hiding her beauty behind layers and layers of clothing, with her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. I do the same shit I do every day—watch her from afar. Why the hell is she so hot? Is it the Christian thing? Yeah, she’s pretty religious, but not as much as people think. She appears super religious more than anything. That should’ve been an instant turn off.
Wasn’t.
Two smoking-hot transfers from the Dallas office walk by. One of them looks at me then looks away, damn near blushing, swaying her hips back and forth in her little skirt. It should make my dick hard.
Doesn’t.
Barely notice.
I want her the fuck out of my way so I can see Mary again. There’s nothing special about Mary either. She’s ordinary, volunteers at her church, dresses plainly. Maybe it’s because she’s so wholesome? Uncorrupted?
Innocent, perhaps?
I’ve been thinking about this shit for seven months and there is no rational explanation. I feel drawn to her, like the tide predictably coming in every night.
Go talk to her.
Great idea, brain. I believe I will.
My stomach knots up with the first step I take. That never happened until I met Mary. I don’t get nervous like this.
She’s dressed in a too-long, ankle-length skirt and a brown sweater that doesn’t hug her curves nearly enough. It does nothing for her figure. She looks like a fucking disgruntled librarian. She’s wearing glasses today.
Fuck me, those glasses. The dirty things I would do…
“Not today, Rick.” She doesn’t even look up from the file her eyes are glued to.
I didn’t even realize I was this close to her until she says the words.
I clutch at my chest, feigning like she just broke my heart.
She lets out a frustrated sigh, then stares up at me. Those eyes.
There’s nothing special about them. They’re ordinary, cow brown, but fuck, they’re mesmerizing at the same time. They’re soft, like her, even if she does get an attitude every now and again, annoyed with every breath I take.
I’ve talked her into four dates so far. Actually, I called them dates. She said they were not dates, just work colleagues hanging out together. She was adamant about that, made it very clear.
That’ll change.
“You’re killin’ me, Mary.” I still haven’t let go of my chest.
She rolls her eyes.
This is fun for me. Not so much for her.
“Do you need something?”
I hem and haw for a moment, thinking about my answer, so I can be near her longer. I start to say something when Decker Collins, the managing partner walks by.
He doesn’t even stop, just says, “In my office, shithead,” as he walks by.
Goddamn it.
“Thank you, Lord,” Mary mumbles.
“No need to bring our Father into this.” I give her a fake scold.
I swear she almost cracks a smile, or maybe I just hope she does. But she waves me away with a flippant hand and doesn’t even give me the pleasure of showing me those brown eyes again.
“I’ll be back.” I trail off behind Decker.
Mary’s gaze turns back down to her papers. “Oh, I know.”
Usually, when I see a woman I want, I go a hundred percent. Then, I usually fuck her and send her on her way the next day. Women complicate my life when they stick around after the orgasms. I’m not a fan of that.
I glance down at my dick as I follow behind Decker. Poor guy. I’ve been depriving him since the first time I saw Mary, when she transferred from Dallas last year and walked through the damn entrance to my floor, stealing my attention from everything I was doing.
Oh yeah, my dick.
This predicament is brutal for him. It’s pretty ridiculous, the more I think about it. Even when I jerk off, I only think about Mary.
Mary. Mary. Mary.
Fuck.
I tried to force myself to watch porn one day and it felt like I was cheating. I haven’t had to erase my browser history at work in seven months. The fuck is wrong with me?
I’ve got it bad.
My luck will change soon, though.
Mary is a Bible thumper, and I’ve become one too. Which brings us to my master plan. She mentioned at church a while back (yes, I go to church now because of her) about wanting to see Jesus of Nazareth, the play, at the Chicago Performing Arts Center. The way her eyes lit up when she said it… The memory is cemented in my mind.
This is my big moment. I already have the tickets, conned Donavan out of them to investigate his now fiancée, Paisley. It’ll be our fifth after-work outing, and first official date. All I have to do is stop being a pussy and ask her out, for real this time. No games, no bullshitting. I haven’t put in seven months of reading Jesus books and volunteering at her church to be denied. Oh no, my friends. Mary is going. I don’t care if I have to tie her up and haul her ass there myself.
“Close the door behind you,” Decker says as I follow him into his office.
I do as he instructs, walk to the chair opposite him, flop down, and kick my feet up on his desk.
He glares at my shoes, as if I just sullied his desk, but he manages not to say anything, despite the fact a blood vessel might burst on his forehead. Why, you ask? Because I’m the best goddamn private investigator on the planet and he knows it. The shit I do for these pricks around here, nobody else can do. So, I get to do whatever I wish, and I enjoy wearing Led Zeppelin tee shirts to work and propping my feet on their desks.
Decker swallows his pride, and his jaw sets. “I need a favor.”
I hold my arms out to the side like I haven’t a care in the world. “What does’t thou need?”
He shakes his head. “Fuck.”
I laugh my ass off. “Sorry, still in King James mode from being enraptured with the good book earlier.”
“First, I’m pretty sure you just butchered whatever language you were speaking, and second, you don’t know what I’m going to ask you yet.”
I grin. “Sure, I do. And it’s a yes.”
He shakes his head,
too stubborn to ask how I figured it all out.
Knowing what people want is simple, you just need to have Holmesian skills of observation. People will tell you everything, if you know what to look for.
Decker huffs out a sigh. “Go on with it. Get this shit out of the way.”
I drop my feet and lean in, like I’m seriously staring into his soul. It’s nothing but a performance. I bring my hands in front of me and steeple my fingers.
“Goddamn it, just spit it out, Lawrence. How do you know?”
I break into a laugh. “How about I just ask you the only question I have?”
He rolls a hand forward like get on with it.
“Is Dexter gonna lose his shit on me if he finds out?”
Decker sighs. “I don’t know how the fuck you do this.”
“The question, sir.”
“He can’t find out. I need it kept secret.”
I click my tongue a few times and stare off at the wall. “Gonna cost you.”
Decker’s face tightens. “I shouldn’t have to barter. We pay you a goddamn salary better than half the partners here.”
I hold up a finger. “As the Joker quipped in the masterpiece that is The Dark Knight, ‘If you’re good at something, never do it for free.’”
“We pay you a fucking salary for you to do the shit you’re good at. You aren’t working for free.” He’s about to explode.
Fuck, this is fun. I lean back and fold one leg above my knee, like we’re getting down to the negotiations. “Semantics, synergy, core competency, paradigm shifting…”
Decker cuts me off. “Those are just popular corporate buzz phrases. They don’t even make sense. Cut the shit.”
“Bears’ suite.” I grin at him.
He finally glances off at the wall then back at me. “Fine. We already secured a second one because of all the new hires anyway.”
“Consider it done then. Pleasure doing business.” I stand up.
“You don’t even know exactly what I want.”
I don’t look back. “Sure, I do. You want information about Wells Covington’s new holdings, specifically Pacific Imports.” I glance back to see the shocked look on his face.
“How the fu…”
“A magician never tells,” I say, as I stroll out of his office.
It’s not that difficult. Like I said, watch people and they’ll tell you everything you need to know. When I got to work, he came out of a meeting with Dexter. They both turned the opposite way with red faces, when they’d usually go to the break room and get coffee together per their usual morning routine. The seeds of dissent were sown. An hour later Decker’s new secretary walked by my desk carrying files on Wells Covington and Pacific Imports. I didn’t even admire her ass, because I don’t check-out-cheat on Mary with other women’s asses, as proven earlier with the interns. I have standards and a heart that beats for one woman.
An hour later, Decker calls me in for this assignment, after he’s stewed over what to do and worried anxiously over the situation; I noticed him turn away three people who tried to approach his office. Every time I’ve seen him today his face has looked one part pissed off, two parts worried.
I take a circuitous route back to my office so I can walk past Mary. The Jesus of Nazareth tickets burn a hole in my pocket. I keep them on me in case the perfect opportunity presents itself.
She doesn’t say anything as I walk by. As I round the corner, though, I catch her eye. Her lips are slightly upturned in an almost-smile.
That’s right, Mary. Keep fighting it.
She’s trying to rope-a-dope me, Ali-style. As if seven months hasn’t proven that I won’t tire of her. If she only realized the irony of the situation. In fact, I’m like one of those prize fishermen who catch big-ass marlins in Florida. I hooked her a long time ago, and now I’m the one wearing her down, little by little, slowly draining the fight out of her.
I pat the tickets in my pocket.
She’s about to get pulled onto the boat, but I’m not a catch-and-release kind of guy. Not when it comes to her. Nope, once she’s in the net, she belongs to me.
Mary Patrick will be mine. I just need to pick the right time to ask her. It has to be perfect. Anything less is unacceptable.
It’s going to happen this week. I keep the tickets on me at all times, just waiting for the moment to strike.
Mary Patrick
“I understand. I’ll have them ready for you as soon as I can. I promise.” Ugh. I hate talking to clients on the phone, but Decker is in the middle of replacing Quinn and I’m on phone duty while his temp secretary is off running an errand. He’s already been through four women and one man. Nobody has the heart to tell him Quinn can’t be replaced. She was a unicorn.
“They were supposed to be ready two days ago. You guys are supposed to be on top of this shit.”
I cringe. “Sir—”
He cuts me off. “I know. I know. You can’t do anything without Decker’s signature. I got it.”
I suppose it’s my job to let this guy take his day out on me. Customer is always right and all that, but it still stinks. He doesn’t have to be so rude about it. I swallow down the frustration building inside me. I refuse to let him ruin my day. “I promise. The second I have the signature I will have them to you ASAP.”
“Unacceptable. Do you know what I pay in fees to your firm?”
I try not to tune out, but it’s so hard. I want to help him, I just can’t. “I understand.”
“Yeah, everyone always understands. Nobody ever does shit!”
I’m not an angry person. I don’t enjoy being upset and this man is really upsetting me, and the worst part is he’s correct. He has every right to be frustrated. I look up. “Just great,” I mumble. Rick has me in his sights and he’s heading this way with a smile.
“What’s that?”
I cup a hand over my mouth. Did he just hear me say that while he’s about to explode? “I’m so sorry, that wasn’t meant for you. I’m so…”
“Fix the goddamn contracts and get them to me.” He slams the phone down so hard I hear it through the receiver, and I swear it echoes through my cubicle.
I scramble to look busy at my desk. Oh no, is he going to tell Decker what I just said? Am I going to get fired? This is not supposed to be how my day goes.
Rick strolls up as usual, without a care in the world.
He does that half-smirk half-grin at me. “Hey, Mary.”
He could be so cute if he would just stop pretending around me. It’s annoying. The man is a womanizer, and I have no idea why he is so infatuated. Not a day goes by where he’s not at my desk or pretending to read a Bible where I’ll see him. I want to ignore everything he does, but I just can’t. My parents didn’t raise me to be rude to people, no matter how irritating they are.
I try to give him a smile, but it’s so hard after that client just chewed me out on the phone. “Rick.” I give him a little nod and go back to the papers scattered across my desk. I don’t have time for whatever he’s up to right now, nor am I in the mood.
“Whatcha doin’?” He drags out the syllables in some weird sing song voice.
I glare at the unsigned contract on my desk. “Working.”
He shakes his head and tsks me. “Always working. You work too hard.”
I sigh, trying not to let my frustration get the best of me. “Is there something you need?”
His hands shoot up and he leans back. “Whoa, temper.”
Ugh. He knows how to make me feel so guilty. I didn’t even yell at him. I was trying to be nice. Did it really come off that rude? “Sorry, I just have a lot to do. So…” I let the word trail off, hoping he takes the hint.
“You should take a break. Let’s go grab some lunch.”
“It’s nine-thirty.” More anger bubbles inside.
Calm down. This is the phone call reacting to him. You’re not mad at Rick, this time anyway.
Rick shrugs, grinning. “Breakfast?”
“Already had breakfast,” I say through my teeth. I just want to be left alone. What is so hard about that?
Rick leans back a hair. “Brunch?”
I whip my head up, unable to control myself. “We are at work.” My jaw clenches. “I’m here to work, not to eat.” I inhale through my nose, trying to settle down. Exhaling, and in a softer tone, I say, “I already ate.”
“Why so upset?”
I smack a hand down on my desk, hard enough to make everyone around jolt, including Rick. “Because I just had a client rip me a new one on the phone about something out of my control, I’m behind on everything, and I don’t have time to talk to you right now.”
Rick shakes his head, mocking me. This is all some big game to him and he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Do not be anxious in anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” He stands there, clearly proud of himself for memorizing and recalling scripture.
My teeth grind. “Do not quote Philippians to me.” It is a little impressive that he came up with the verse that quick, but it’s equally annoying.
“Just turn your problems over to Him, Mary. Everything will be fine.” He smirks as he says it.
I sit there, halfway wanting to stab him with my pen, halfway wanting to laugh because this is all so absurd. He’s been following me around for over six months, reading Christian books, volunteering at my church. I don’t even want to know how he found out where I go, even though he pretended it was a huge coincidence. Why he does all this, I have no idea. Okay, I know why. He wants me to go on a date with him. I’ve tried to be nice. I even went to Decker’s wedding with him. I hung out with him three other times, all with work people around. At first, I thought he was serious about wanting to be involved at the church, know about my beliefs, but it’s really just some big con. I’m sure of it.