“Good.”
Running my fingers through his thick hair, I say, “I’m sorry about your dad situation.”
“Why? Balthazar fucking raised me. He fed me, clothed me, and gave me whatever kids need growing up. He taught me how to play sports, and he came to my boring school events. He was my father even if I was taller than him by fifth grade.”
“Still awkward.”
“You shut the door in your father’s face.”
“I know.”
“So why feel sorry for me?”
“I’m sweet on you, dumbass. It makes me soft and sentimental.”
“Oh,” he says and grins. “Did you ever feel like you were missing out when you were a kid by not having a father around?”
“No, but I think Honey did. I even think that might be one reason she stays with Douche. She thinks her kids are better off with a bad father rather than no father. Of course, even if they divorce Andrew isn’t going anywhere. He loves his kids. He’s just a shitty father because of his stupid parenting philosophy.”
“What’s that?”
“He believes, and this is something his family raised him to believe, that children are born with an understanding of the world. They only need to grow up to fully express who they are. So Andrew doesn’t discipline the kids because he figures they act the way they’re supposed to act.”
“He sounds like a hippie.”
“It’s some New Age follow your aura bullshit. That’s not how my mom raised us. She had rules. We followed them, or she grounded us. She’d feed us bread and water if regular grounding didn’t work. She’d make sure we were miserable, so we’d never want to be grounded again. It was impressive especially considering I liked to break rules.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Rules are for suckers,” I say, reaching for his cock and finding it already hard.
“That they fucking are.”
“Do you want to fuck again or are you okay with us spending the morning talking about our feelings?”
Hayes is on his feet in a shot. He pats the end of the bed.
“I’d like to get a good look of your pussy. Turn over and present it.”
“I’ve never met such a bossy man before.”
“Did you expect me to be tender in bed when I’m never tender any other time?”
Smiling at him, I ask, “Couldn’t you, at least, fake it a little?”
“Does that mean you’re not getting on all fours?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” I say, turning over and scooting down.
“I’d like to put something else in your mouth.”
“I changed my mind about ever giving you a blowjob. Your dick is too big.”
“I like when you talk about my big dick.”
“It’s so huge I feel it knocking against my ribcage.”
“Not a great visual.”
“It slams against my tonsils,” I say, laughing with my butt facing him. “I think it poked my brain once. Now I can’t spell colossal anymore.”
“Stop talking.”
Wiggling my butt, I glance back at him. “You’re very sexy, Angus Hayes. So manly in so many manly ways.”
“I really should have shoved this in your mouth,” he says, stroking his cock.
“Nope, I’m not kidding about it being too damn big.”
Hayes grins at my babble. “I like this pussy.”
My eyes close as he slides the head of his cock against my slit. He takes his time entering me this time. Slowly, almost patiently, he presses one inch after another into me until I’m unsure how I can stand so much of him.
Hayes’s rough fingers find my clit and work the delicate flesh until I’m pounding back against him wildly. My breasts swing rhythmically with his thrusts. Once I come loudly, Hayes leans forward and pinches my nipples to the same rhythm as he caressed my clit. I squeal in pleasure, and he makes a noise I’ve never heard before.
“You’re going to make me come,” he groans.
I smile at how much he enjoys my body. To see him so fucking desperate is sexy as hell. Having him own my body is even more irresistible. He pounds into me with abandon, pinching my nipples until I come uncontrollably. I’ve never had a man take from me what he wants and leave me so perfectly satisfied.
TWENTY SEVEN - CANDY
The twins are suspended from school for three days after getting into a fight with a few kids at recess. The principal has a no-tolerance policy for violence and sends the offenders home for the rest of the week. Yes, because nothing punishes children more than taking away their beloved school.
I punish the twins, but they don’t care. Losing Xbox means nothing to them if the alternative is taking shit from kids at school.
“So what were you suspended for?” Hayes asks when I bring the kids into the office on their first day off.
“This boy was making fun of Chipper,” Cricket explains casually. “I told the kid to stop being an asshole. He got mad and threw dirt at Chipper. I jumped on the kid and made him eat dirt. One of the kid’s friends tried to hit me, so Chipper knocked him to the ground. We did nothing wrong, but the principal had to make an example of us.”
“You got into a fight at school,” I say. “That’s something wrong.”
“I was defending Chipper, and he was defending me. We were loyal to our family. How can that be wrong?”
I look at Hayes and sigh. “See what I have to put up with? They’re too damn smug for their own good.”
Chipper smiles at Hayes. “When I knocked that kid down, he cried.”
“Good,” Hayes announces, surprising no one. “Punks need to be treated harshly, or they won’t learn. It’s in their DNA to keep messing with people until they hit a wall. You were that wall. Now you get a vacation from school. Everyone wins.”
“You’re not helping,” I mutter.
Hayes grins. “You didn’t expect me to.”
“No, I guess I didn’t,” I admit, grinning. “I swear I’d homeschool them if we didn’t do work here that no child should witness.”
Hayes knows what I’m talking about, and he also suddenly realizes the kids’ vacation will leave him sexless for the rest of the week.
“Get them a babysitter,” he says.
“Who?”
“Anyone,” he mutters, walking away.
“Would you leave Nightmare with just anyone?” I call out to him.
Hayes shuts his door without answering. He pretends to be pissed, but I know he’s only horny.
The twins go with us to the Waffle House for breakfast. They ride with me while I follow Hayes around to all of his sites. The four of us eat lunch together. It’s a weird arrangement, but no one complains. The kids are happy to be out of school. During the afternoon, they work quietly on their assignments in the meeting room while I finish up with things for Hayes.
On the second day, the boss man brings his dog. I suspect Nightmare is meant to entertain the kids. Whatever the reason, we order pizza into the office for lunch and skip running to the various sites.
“The backyard looks great with the sod,” I say, leaning against the doorway while watching the kids kick a soccer ball.
“I miss you,” he says, kissing my shoulder and then walking away. “Feels like we’re running a daycare.”
Watching him sulk, I laugh. “This is nothing like a daycare. There's no crying or tantrums. Well, except the one you’re throwing.”
Hayes frowns at me from his spot near my desk. I look outside to where Nightmare chases the ball. The kids laugh and run around the fenced area. They’re happy here, and I wish I could bring them every day.
“Don’t you miss me?” he finally asks in a grumpy voice.
“Of course. I could leave them at Honey’s house for a few hours tomorrow if you want.”
“Why not all day?”
“They hate it there.”
“Why?”
“Wouldn’t you hate hanging out with little kids and an unhappy housewife?”
Hayes shrugs. “Normal women get daycare when their kids stay home.”
Now I feel grumpy. “Besides missing out on the fucking, how exactly are you put out in this situation?”
“I paid for their food.”
“I'll pay then.”
Hayes waves off my offer. “This is a workplace, and they shouldn’t be here.”
“I’ll stay home with them tomorrow then,” I say, crossing my arms angrily. “On Monday, they’ll go back to school, and I’ll be back.”
Hayes grumbles under his breath, but I pretend to ignore his irritation.
“I drove by your house the other day,” I say, and he instantly glares at me.
“Why?”
“I was curious.”
“Are you stalking me?”
“Yeah, sure. Love the gnomes, by the way,” I tease and then flash him a grin. “So anyway, I noticed your house is really large, and that got me thinking.”
“About what?” he growls in a voice his enemies know well.
“This office is set up all wrong,” I say, pretending not to notice the death stare he’s giving me. “All of the space is in the front while you have a tiny office where you can barely stand without knocking over shit.”
“So?”
“So you ought to have one of your crews move that wall out and open up your office. I’ve cleared up all the mess and organized it into the cabinets. You could easily double your office, and I’d still have plenty of space out here.”
Hayes says nothing, and I finally look directly at him. “You’re a big man, and you live in a big house. You should have a big office.”
“Everything is so simple for you, isn’t it, Candy? You think something needs to happen so I should just open up my checkbook and do it.”
Nervous heat flows up my back, and I instantly sweat. I’ve seen Hayes go junkyard dog on people before, but he’s never focused all of his angry energy at me.
“It’s not like you’d be getting a bigger office for my benefit,” I say weakly.
“How long do you think I’ve fucking worked out of this fucking office?” Once I shrug, he continues, “Do you think I never fucking considered moving the fucking wall? Apparently you think I’m a fucking moron, and only Queen Candy is fucking smart enough to think of such a fucking thing.”
His voice is loud, and the kids stop playing outside. Feeling cornered, I cross my arms tighter and lift my jaw.
“Is there a brilliant fucking reason you haven’t moved the wall, boss?” I say, forcing my voice to remain steady.
“Because I didn’t fucking want to!” he yells loud enough to send Nightmare into a barking fit.
Hayes rolls his eyes and yells at the dog to calm down. Nightmare obeys yet remains confused. He wants to protect his master, and he isn't sure where the threat is coming from.
“Are you happy?” he growls at me.
“That you scared your dog? No, not really. I’m more upset that you scared my kids. I want you to apologize, so they know you’re not a monster.”
“Fuck you,” he mutters, walking to his office.
I hurry after him. “You better apologize to me in front of them.”
“Or fucking what?” he says, leaning back in his chair.
“Or I’ll quit.”
“Bullshit.”
“Apologize,” I say, shaking from the surge of anger-fueled adrenaline.
“Only if you apologize to me in front of them first.”
“Fuck you,” I say, stepping back. “I’m leaving, Hayes, if you don’t apologize.”
“Then go.” Hayes jumps up and follows me into the main office where I shove things into my purse. “You’ll be back once you’re done throwing your fit.”
“I won’t come back until you apologize.”
“Then don’t come back. You’re replaceable.”
“Ha! You went through how many assistants before me?” I say, laughing bitterly. “Good luck with the temps.”
“Good luck finding another job where you show up whenever you want and bring your kids to work and get to fuck the boss.”
I glare at him, and he glares right back at me. My hands ball into fists, and I want so badly to hit him. I want to pound his handsome fucking face for making me feel disposable. He’s the one throwing a damn fit. I dared to interrupt his strict schedule, and he’s freaking out.
The twins stand at the door with the dog. They’re scared, and I see their hands balled into fists too. They don’t believe in backing down either. I raised them to be tough enough to face trouble. Life offers them nothing. They’ll have to demand whatever happiness they find.
Hayes looks at my fists and then my face. He seems amused by my anger. Fuck, I think he expects me to hit him. I won’t because I can’t win that fight. With our stalemate, I will win, though.
I refuse to apologize. He’ll be the one to say the words. I’ll never do it. Even if I end up with a shitty job, I won’t bow down to Angus Hayes. My kids need to know they shouldn't take shit from people they care about. If they do it once, it’ll be easier the second time, and then they’ll get used to doing it. Eventually, they’ll wake up as someone’s bitch.
So I tell them to grab their school stuff and go to the car. Hayes watches us walk out. He and Nightmare stand at the front door as I pull out. The entire time, he thinks I’ll chicken out. Even after I speed away, he probably expects me to call him later and play nice.
Hayes might get what he wants normally, but this is one fight he’ll lose.
TWENTY EIGHT - HAYES
Jackknife Casino is one of the places Moot wants to visit now that he’s a free man. Enjoying rules, I rarely play games of chance. I only choose to go with Moot because the idea of sitting alone at my place isn’t appealing. The house feels too quiet.
I blame Candy and her need for noise. Or I ought to blame the twins and their need to create noise which led to Candy craving it even when they’re not around.
“We can eat dinner in the smoking lounge,” I tell Moot while he sits down to a game of Texas Hold ‘Em. “They serve steak.”
Moot frowns, having never heard of the smoking lounge. I’m not surprised since it’s a big rollers perk. I don’t shit much money at the casino, but I have meetings there.
“They serve great scotch too.”
This comment gets a smile out of Moot. All he wants since he’s been out is to eat and drink well, sleep on a big bed, and drive fast. Freedom looks good on the man, and I try to enjoy a few hours of gambling.
After a lucky streak, Moot surprises me by choosing to stop before he pisses away all of his winnings. We retire to the smoking lounge where only two other people are eating on a Sunday evening.
“Work is good?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t bitch about his construction crew. I’m not in the mood for anyone’s drama when I’m still smarting from Candy’s.
“It’s good, man. Feels great to get my hands dirty.”
I nod and fall silent. Over the lounge’s speakers, Toby Keith croons about lost love. I suspect Candy is a fan of the song. She likes country music and plays it rather loudly at her desk. I’ve yelled at her plenty of times to turn it down. She occasionally obeys but often doesn’t. Candy handled my yelling well until she just up and decided to be a sensitive bitch about everything.
“Heard your assistant quit,” Moot says, and I think he wants to laugh at me.
“They always do.”
“I thought she was a keeper.”
“Me too, but fucking her was probably a mistake.”
“Only probably?” he asks, giving me an amused look.
“She’s a great fuck.”
Moot nods and his eyes light up when the food arrives. After he digs into his steak and potatoes, he studies me.
“What do you want to happen with Candy?”
“Simple,” I say, puffing on my cigar. “I want her to apologize for throwing a fit. Then I want her on her knees.”
“Didn’t you say you acted like an assho
le?”
“Yeah, but she knows I’m an asshole.”
“Chicks have limits, man.”
I shrug. “She’ll break down and apologize.”
“Because she wants her job or she wants you?”
I frown at his question, and I’m shocked I hadn’t considered it. When she comes back, I’ll never really know the true reason. What if she does only apologize for the job rather than because she wants me back?
“In the end, what matters is what you’re willing to live without,” Moot says, going philosophical on me. “If you just want Candy to be your assistant, you’re right that she’ll come back. It’s a good job, and she puts up with your shit well. Now if you want her back as your woman, then you ought to rethink your plan.”
“I’m not apologizing.”
“Then you have your answer.”
“I shouldn’t have to apologize.”
“Sounds good to me,” he says, eating casually.
“She overreacted.”
“Yep.”
“Might have been on her period. That was how irrational she was.”
“Women are moody.”
“I’m right about this," I say too angrily.
“No doubt. You’re right about most things. Don’t see why this time would be any different.”
“Candy is replaceable.”
“Everyone is.”
Puffing on my cigar, I realize I’ve gone too far. While Candy did overreact, and she is a moody chick, and I shouldn’t have to apologize, she is in no way replaceable. There is no one else in the world like Candy. If another woman like Candy exists, I’ll never meet her. I’m not that damn lucky.
Candy isn’t replaceable, but maybe I am. Hell, she’d be fine without a man in her life. The chick went without sex for a decade. She can do it again.
Fuck! She can just show up to work one day and ask for her job back, and I’ll say yes, and she’ll be happy for the paycheck. I’ll never touch her again, and she’ll fucking skip through her life without a care in the world. What in the fuck about me?
“You bow to women a lot,” I say, and Moot grins at me with a full mouth. “How would you handle this situation if you wanted to get the bitchy part over with?”
“You’re going to have to apologize, big guy. No getting around that.”
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