PAYBACK’S A BITCH

by Johnson, Missy

“How did you even get in here with that?” she asks suspiciously. “The guard should’ve taken it off you.”

  “I may have dropped a name or two …”

  She smiles knowingly. “Ah, so you’re Judge Hunter’s stepdaughter? That explains why the director was suddenly so eager to create a new role just for you.”

  “I’m not his stepdaughter yet, but I will be soon,” I say with a frown because I’m really not liking her tone.

  She nods. “Just so you know, you might be used to dropping names to get what you want, but it’s not going to work with me.”

  I groan inwardly.

  Great. Now she thinks I’m a leech.

  She stands there, eyebrows raised like she’s waiting for something. I raise mine back.

  “Your phone? So that you can save my pager number?” she prompts, a hint of irritation in her voice.

  “Right,” I mutter, shoving my hand in my pocket.

  As I’m pulling it out, my fingers get caught and press against the phone. Sound blasts through the speakers, startling me enough that I drop it, sending it tumbling under her desk. Not only is it on speaker, but I’ve somehow managed to call my voicemail.

  “Hey Arsy …” The voice chuckles.

  Shit.

  Fuck no, this isn’t happening.

  I snap myself out of whatever trance I’m in and drop to my knees. I crawl under her desk, desperate to stop it before he says anything else.

  Of course, my phone somehow managed to wedge itself between the filing cabinet and the table, where my fingers are just a little too big to squeeze into. I keep trying though, never mind that my knuckles are slowly being crushed with every tiny bit of ground I manage to gain, all the while the message continues to play.

  “Cute name, by the way. I hope your name means you’re into ass play. Nothing too heavy, just some light pegging and maybe the odd fist. I’ll even fulfill your fantasies and dress as a panda. Or whatever—”

  Yes.

  Got the little fucker. I turn it off, my heart racing.

  Thank God for that.

  I’m so relieved—until I remember that she heard every last fucking word of that voicemail. I’m still under the table, my ass up in the air and my eyes closed—which is ironically exactly how “Nolan” would want me.

  Why didn’t I just cough up my phone when I had the chance? Or better yet, realize that taking it to work might breach their requirements I should have just left the fucking thing at home.

  As much as I want to stay down here until I die, I know I’ll have to face her sooner or later. I only hope it's not so she can tell me the offer of employment has been reconsidered. Slowly I back up when I get to my feet. I can’t make eye contact with her because really, what do you say to someone after that?

  “I’m so sorry about that,” I begin. “I was—”

  “It’s fine,” she assures me, putting her hand on my arm.

  I gape at her. Well, I’m confused as fuck. Five minutes ago, she hated me for using Jim to get ahead—which is not to be confused with using him to get head, but she’s okay with this?

  She’s either really open-minded, or she’s into some weird shit herself. If it’s the latter, I hope she’s not expecting me to perform for her. I shift back slightly.

  Yeah, that’s definitely not happening.

  “It’s nothing to be ashamed about, Darcy.”

  God, now she sounds like my mother.

  “Desires and urges are natural and so long as you’re not doing anything illegal,” she continues. “You’re not hurting anyone, so what’s the problem?”

  “Thanks, I appreciate the support and everything, but I’m not really into chicks,” I say slowly.

  She starts laughing. “Me? Oh, God no. No way.” She pauses for a moment then looks me in the eye. “My brother enjoys ‘dressing up’, too, if you understand what I mean,” she murmurs, barely moving her mouth.

  It’s like she’s afraid of being overheard, even though it’s just her and I in the room. I stare at her, finally process what she’s saying. Is her brother a Furry? And she’s telling me this why?

  “I don’t judge him for doing something he enjoys,” she says with a shrug. “And I’m not going to judge you either.”

  I stare at her, speechless. Which is impressive because I always have something to say. She nods, satisfied with our chat, then pats me on the back.

  “Go fill out your forms. I’ll see you later,” she says, leading me out of her office. I watch her disappear around the corner, and then I glance down at the stack of forms that I need to sign. It’s only then I realize she never gave me her number. Or showed me to the staffroom.

  Fuck. What a shit start to the day.

  * * *

  Parking my car in the driveway at Jim and Mom’s place, then I get out and walk across the lawn to the front door. I’m glad to be home after what felt like an abnormally long day. I keep thinking about what happened and cringe. It sounds like an article I’d find in one of the trashy women’s magazines Sash is always reading.

  My new boss thinks I’m a sexual deviant and she’s okay with it.

  How did I walk away from that and still have a job? Not that I’m complaining. Two days a week, working there for a few hours is going to look great on my résumé. I’m almost at the steps when someone grabs my hand. I jump and spin around while snatching my hand back. My eyes widen at the random dude, who’s standing in front of me.

  “Yes?”

  “Hey,” he mutters, not making eye contact. “I … um, I wanted …” he mutters abuse under his breath. I’m not sure if it’s aimed at himself, or me.

  “What do you want?” I ask, frowning at him.

  I place more distance between us because this guy is creeping me the fuck out. How did he figure out where I live?

  “Are you … Arsy?” he asks in a low, gravelly voice.

  How the fuck did he get this address?

  “I’m sorry,” he quickly adds. “I don’t mean to scare you, but I really wanted you to know that your words really spoke to me—”

  “Okay. Thanks, and bye now,” I say, attempting to shoo him away like a pesky fly.

  He frowns at me like he’s wondering what the hell I’m doing. He’s the one tracking down a total stranger because their fake personal’s ad spoke to him. How come I get to be the weirdo?

  “Hang on, wait a minute,” he protests. “Just hear me out—”

  “No, I won’t be hearing you out. Not today or ever,” I say, glaring at him. “You’re going to leave me the hell alone or I’ll call the police.”

  “You heard her. Fuck off … NOW … before I make you.”

  I turn around. Cameron stands there with his fists clenched, a menacing look on his face as he steps forward. The creep cowers back, clearly intimidated by him. Given that Cameron towers over him, both in height and size, I’m not surprised.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I was just leaving.” He quickly scurries away.

  I step back and glare at Cameron. I’m so annoyed because I had that under control. He smirks back at me, the stupid little dimple popping up in his left cheek just enough to make me want to punch him in the guts. At least that would stop him smiling. Then I wouldn’t have to look at it. Or pretend I’m not thinking about how sexy he is, or how badly I want to touch his slightly curly chestnut colored mop of hair …

  What? No. No fucking way. He’s an arrogant, self-righteous prick. I’m annoyed at myself for letting that one tiny dimple turn me into such a … girl.

  Chapter Three

  Cameron

  “Scotch. Beer. Both are great.” I pause for a moment. “I’m not really a fan of wine, though.”

  “What?” she snaps. Her brow furrows as she stares at me, confused.

  “I’m telling you my drink preferences if you want to thank me for saving you,” I patiently explain

  “Are you serious?” She laughs.

  “Deadly. I’ve always thought it tasted a bit like armpits,�
� I muse, looking at her thoughtfully. “Wine, I mean. I assume that’s what has you so outraged?”

  “Or maybe I’m outraged because you couldn’t mind your own business and leave me alone?” she suggests. “Also, are you in the habit of licking armpits?”

  “Not since the restraining orders kicked in,” I quip.

  I smirk at her stony expression. Really? Not even a smile?

  “Are you really annoyed because I tried to help you?” I ask.

  “No. I’m annoyed because I had that under control. I’d have kicked the shit out of him if he tried anything,” she explains. “But instead, you swooped in like a fucking hero and now he’s probably hiding around the corner, waiting for you to leave.”

  “I think you’d struggle to kick the shit out of a penguin.” I chuckle. She blinks at me and I frown. “Not that I condone violence against—hey,” I gasp.

  Out of nowhere, she’s swept my feet from beneath me, tackled me to the ground bending one arm behind my back so hard that I’m doing my best not to squeal like a girl.

  “Seven years martial arts,” she whispers in my ear. I wince when she bites down on the lobe. “Now do you wanna tell me how much I need rescuing?” she taunts.

  I break out of her hold and roll over, so she’s straddling me. She narrows her eyes as I place my hands on her ass and smirk up at her.

  “There’s nothing sexier than a chick with balls,” I tease her.

  She rolls her eyes as she firmly removes my hands and stands up. I accept her hand when she extends it to me, then I get to my feet and brush myself off.

  “Okay. You’ve got skills,” I agree. “But what if he’d have followed you inside and caught you off guard?” I pause. “Or worse. What if he had a gun?”

  She frowns at me, a flicker of fear passing through her eyes.

  “Fine. Thank you so much for swooping in to save me.” She raises her eyebrows at me. “Did that satisfy your ego there, tiger?”

  “Not quite,” I call out after her.

  She laughs and walks inside, slamming the door behind her—just in case I had any ideas of following her. I shake my head and grin. Wow. I had no idea she was so tough. It’s kind of turning me on just thinking about how quickly she had me pinned like that.

  I knew the moment I met Darcy that she was one of those chicks. You know the type I’m talking about. The kind who think they can get themselves out of any situation because they’re independent and strong.

  Sure, being able to protect yourself is fine. The thing is, that’s not going to help if the guy, pinning you against the wall, has a hundred pounds on you. Especially when you’ve got it in your head that you’re invincible. I know she would’ve dropped that wiry little creep, in two seconds flat, but next time she might not be so lucky. And eventually, she’s going to find herself in a situation where there’s nobody around to rescue her. I turn around when I hear a noise, then I look a little closer at the bushes beneath the living room window.

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  I laugh, because, Darcy was right. He’s fucking hiding there, waiting for me to leave.

  “Hey,” I yell out.

  His eyes widen when I start to jog towards him. He stands up, losing his balance and toppling backward, straight back into the bushes. He falls on his ass, just in time for me to reach down to grab a handful of his shirt and haul him to his feet. I give him the nastiest glare I can muster up then I shove him backward.

  “Did I not tell you to get lost?” I growl, curling my lip.

  “Yes … I uh, I was ….”

  He stumbles through a few words, before giving up entirely.

  “You were what?” I repeat. “Crouching behind the bushes, waiting for me to leave so you could have another go?”

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I was, but I changed my mind. I promise.”

  “Because you saw her flatten me?” I hide my smirk. Maybe she can look after herself. “Just get the fuck out of here. Now.

  He nods and races off, taking cover in a car that’s parked a few houses down. I wait for him to drive off, but he doesn’t. He’s just sitting there, doing God knows what, other than pissing me the hell off. What do I have to do to get through to this dickhead?

  When I start walking toward his car, he finally speeds off. I frown, not convinced he’s really gotten the message. Which means I’m going to have to make him get it. Darcy might irritate the fuck out of me, but that doesn’t mean I want to see her get hurt.

  I jog over to my car, jump in and buckle up, then I reverse out of the driveway. I slam my foot down on the accelerator, just in time to see him turn left into traffic. I follow him, keeping back enough that he’s not going to figure out I’m behind him.

  After around twenty minutes of congested, stop-start LA traffic, he turns into a leafy suburban street on the outskirts of the city. I slow down and watch as he pulls into the driveway. I shake my head because this guy is an even bigger cock than I first thought.

  I might be jumping to conclusions, but the children’s shoes littering the front porch are making me strongly suspect this dude is married. That and also the heavily pregnant chick he’s now kissing at the front door.

  This is going to be fun.

  I get out of the car, lift my fingers to my mouth and whistle.

  “Hey,” I call out, waving at him. “Long time so see!”

  He spins around. His eyes widen when he sees me, the look on his face fucking hilarious. I chuckle because I’ve never seen a person move so fast.

  “What are you doing here,” he hisses when he reaches me, glancing back at his curious wife, girlfriend, or whatever the hell she is.

  “At your house, you mean?” I shrug and lean against my car. “I dunno. I just thought I’d say hi to your wife, and maybe let her know what a fuckhead you are?” I wink at him, my mouth lifting into a grin. “I’m guessing this isn’t baby number one?”

  “Look, I’m sorry but she placed the ad,” he says, his voice desperate. “All I did was answer it. Shouldn’t you be having this conversation with her?”

  “No, you sick fuck. You showed up unwanted, on my stepsister’s doorstep and then didn’t taking the hint to leave,” I remind him. “Twice, I might add. And now it turns out you’re married?” I laugh. “A real fucking class act.” I pause. “What ad are you talking about?”

  “You haven’t seen it?”

  He smirks, obviously enjoying that he knows something I don’t. I shift impatiently while he pulls his phone from his pocket. He glances over his shoulder to make sure his wife isn’t still standing there; then he hands me his phone.

  “This.”

  He shoves his phone into my hands. I stare at it in disbelief.

  No fucking way.

  “What in the ever-loving fuck?” I mutter, shaking my head.

  Did Darcy placed this ad? No, this has to be a joke. She’s more vanilla than a sugar cookie. There’s no way in hell she’s into any of this.

  “So, you said she’s your stepsister, huh?” I glare at him as he grins like we’re suddenly bros. “Have you two ever …”

  I toss the phone back to him and then do what I came here to do. I stare him down until he backs up a few steps.

  “What the fuck did you just ask me?” I snarl, getting so close to his face that his pupils expand in fear.

  “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “If I ever see you anywhere near anyone in my family again, I’ll come right over here and have a nice little chat with your wife,” I say, cutting him off. “Right before she drags me upstairs, so she can see what a real cock looks like.”

  I narrow my eyes at him then I step even closer to him. I clench my jaw, knowing full well when I do that the little vein in my neck pops out, making me look way angrier than I am. Not that I really need it, since I’m pretty fucking pissed.

  “Then after that? I’ll slice off your dick.” I grin at him. “Just to make sure you got the message.”

  “Messag
e received,” he mutters his face pale. “Trust me.”

  * * *

  I’m still laughing to myself when I pull into the parking lot of my apartment building half an hour later. Now I’m at least confident that creep won’t be bothering her again. My amusement quickly fades, along with my good mood, when I reach my parking spot.

  “Fuck,” I growl. “Again?”

  The chick, who owns the spot next to mine, has a habit of parking so close to the line we share, that I can’t fit because the other side of me is the wall. I’ve never met her, but I know it’s a chick from the extensive teddy bear display she has going on along her back window.

  Better not let Darcy know or she won’t be able to control herself.

  I chuckle and get out of the car, leaving it in neutral. What the fuck is Darcy doing placing ads like that? If she’s that desperate for some kink, all she has to do is ask me. I walk around to the rear of my car and lean my back against it when I push. It’s easier than I thought to roll it into my space, and I somehow manage to do it without hitting her car—not that she wouldn’t have deserved it.

  I survey my work, including the millimeter gap I’ve left between the two cars and nod, proud of myself for achieving what I thought was near impossible. With any luck, making her think twice about being such a selfish bitch.

  While I wait for the painfully slow elevator, I dig out my phone because I need to see that ad again, this time without some crazy idiot breathing down my neck. I grin because it’s just as amusing the second time around.

  I’m the girl who likes the cock in the back hole. In fact, I’ll take it anywhere you want to put it. I’m into BDSM, voyeurism, and I’ll try anything twice.

  There’s also nothing sexier than a guy channeling his inner animal and taking me up the ass while dressed as one. You choose which one—I’m easy ;)

  Call, text, or email me and remember… the dirtier the better.

  Pics are also welcome because I’m a very visual person.

  Fuck me. I shake my head, the smile not leaving my face. Imagine her face when she saw that—assuming she isn’t the one who posted it. Or when that first reply came in. God, what I would have paid to have seen that.