The Playboy

by Alice Ward

  When we got back to my house, we showered and cuddled in together. I was a little sore from the ramrodding I’d just gotten inside my new sensible mobile.

  “I shall name him Rodney,” I said against KP’s chest.

  He laughed and kissed my hair. “Fitting.”

  I turned to look up at him and winced at my change of position. “Are you sure you didn’t have a construction crew in your pants back there?”

  “Sorry, love, I got a little carried away,” he said sincerely.

  “The other women you’ve been with must have leather vaginas the size of the Grand Canyon,” I teased.

  He wrinkled his brow. “Can we avoid the talk of other women and leather vaginas?” He kissed my hair again. “I’ll be more careful next time. In fact, I’ll make it up to you now.”

  He smiled and slithered down under the sheets, gently spreading my legs apart. I felt his soft, moist tongue lap at my sensitive, bruised folds and he quickly had me gripping the sheets with need again.

  Hurts so good.

  The song was playing in my mind as he brought me to the brink of pleasure with only his tongue.

  CHAPTER 14

  KP

  I lay awake with Caitlyn curled up by my side. It was early in the morning, nearly dawn, but Sunday, so we could sleep in. Hopefully, Caitlyn wouldn’t demand too much “me time,” because the party was pretty much a lot of her time.

  I don’t know why I felt so off about that. She accepted the car, which I frankly thought she would never do, and she was free with her body, even initiated a little car sex, and I appreciated the spontaneity. I was feeling off-kilter though. She wasn’t that much younger than me — less than ten years — but the diversity and utter coolness of her friends made me feel like a relic.

  I was rich as all fuck and incredibly famous, and none of them cared. Caitlyn had given them the heads up to steer clear of me, but even when they were drunk, they didn’t seem at all interested in me. What they cared about was music, weird cheap drinks, and Caitlyn. That made me crazy.

  After lying there awhile, I realized I was too wired, frustrated, and generally upset with myself to sleep, so I carefully slipped out of bed. I’d go to the kitchen to catch up on some work. I usually worked every day, and outside of sex, work was the best thing to calm me down.

  As I tucked the sheet around her tighter, guilt bubbled up. I’d hurt her tonight, taking her as hard as I did. I was so pent up and ravenous, I just pounded her like I would Rachel, who loved that kind of thing. Caitlyn was vanilla with a little bit of spice — very little — but willing to try more, which was sweet. Still, I’d taken advantage.

  After my laptop booted, I checked my emails. Rachel was begging to come back and Lucas was confirming for Tuesday. Well, those two were as predictable as always. As sad as it was, it felt more normal. I looked around the house and tried to discover what Caitlyn’s normal was. There were paintings on nearly every visible inch of wall space, which was a testimony to her late grandmother and her voracious love for Caitlyn. Then the graffiti piece made with poetry and art. But what else drove her?

  I found a stack of her notes near her laptop. Tucked in the pile was a drawing that intrigued me. It was a girl with a massive volume of twisted and curled hair. She had a beautiful mouth drawn into a kind of sexy pout. I loved the way the character looked. The name in an irreverent-looking print was Mathilda, and the name of the animated series — I assumed by the look of the drawings I flipped through — was “So Now it’s X.”

  I was so intrigued, I sat down and read Caitlyn’s entire pitch for the series. She had printed it out, so she must have intended to take it to school with her the following week. She hadn’t even officially begun school, I loved the eagerness. It took me an hour, but by the time I had read the whole pitch for the young adult animated series, I was hooked.

  So Now it’s X” is about a depressed teen on meds, who is seeing a shrink and trying to manage her depression. Unbeknownst to everyone, she is actually a superhero who has to face the world’s ills.

  The tone of the series was snarky, poignant, and cool. I could pitch something this timely in my sleep. It dealt with mental illness, music, sexuality, suicide, school… life. I wanted it, I wanted to make it. I’d finally found our common ground. Caitlyn and I had a crossroads where her world would meet mine.

  I was tempted to wake her with a kiss and share how impressed I was, but instead, I decided to have her pitch me her version of the series. If I had her spin on it, I could use it to work my magic.

  I felt better, having found little miss irreverent Mathilda, the depressed superhero teen, in Caitlyn’s kitchen. It was still dark when I inched back into bed, put my arms around her, and fell asleep. We both slept in and didn’t wake until our bodily needs could no longer be ignored.

  “I’m starving,” she said in a sleep-dazed state.

  “I have to pee,” I growled.

  We both reluctantly crawled out of bed. She started breakfast, and when I walked into the kitchen, I was surprised to see her only wearing panties and an apron as she sizzled up some bacon and eggs.

  “Um, think you forgot something,” I said as I snuck up on her and started kissing her neck as she cooked.

  I had learned that her neck, the tops of her inner thighs, and her belly button where her sweet spots. If I wanted her to play with me, I knew to go for those zones.

  “Did I?” She acted as if she had no idea what I was talking about.

  “You did.” I slipped my hand inside of her panties and let my fingers dance around her soft, lovely skin.

  “I don’t want to burn you,” she warned as she moved the bacon and eggs to a plate.

  “But you already have,” I teased, “with desire.”

  We both laughed at how corny I sounded, and it made me fall in love with her a little more. I wanted to make love to her again. Soon, it would be a week before I got the chance. After she plated the food, I was ready for her.

  “Just take it easy this time, okay,” she gave me a sweet warning.

  After we ate, I did take it easy. I also took my time. Kissing every inch of her skin, I lapped at her labia and clit, soft strokes that drove her crazy. As rough as last night was, this was gentle and loving. Still new territory for me, but I enjoyed it.

  Afterwards, I begged her to pitch me the show. She told me she and the students at the art center had created the show as a parting gift. They wanted her to develop it while she was at Parsons. I smiled; I had a better idea.

  I was reluctant to leave Sunday night, but I knew she would be moving nearby soon, so I tried not to make a big show of it. Robert picked me up around five o’clock, and I returned to Manhattan feeling incredibly lonely. It was only two more weeks before Caitlyn moved to school. We compromised on the dorm, and she agreed to rent a single apartment near campus. There was no doubt in my mind that she would make friends — cool, artsy friends. The thought terrified me for some reason.

  I’d made a big stink about having to wait for her to move in, and maybe that was why it all happened the way it did. Being honest had its disadvantages, as I soon discovered. After returning to the office, I went back to business as usual, calling Caitlyn twice a day as we had agreed was sensible. The only thing really powering me through that week was putting Caitlyn’s pitch on the agenda. I was excited about getting that project approved and started. I had a sparring match planned with Lucas the next day, so things were going back to normal.

  On Tuesday, I returned to my office after a quick lunch with a cinematographer I was trying to woo into working on a crap film to up its credentials. I was feeling pretty good because the lunch meeting went well, and I almost had him convinced that it would be a good move for him.

  I was feeling great until I walked into my office to find Rachel spread out on the couch wearing a pair of high heels and a set of pearls. Her long, bronzed legs were crossed, and she was reading a trade magazine. She looked just like the cover of a skin rag.

&
nbsp; I was speechless. I would have loved to say that she had zero effect on me whatsoever, but that would be a bold-faced lie. At least one part of me was really excited to see her, in fact too excited to hide.

  Fuck. My easily aroused state must have been some kind of condition I needed to have looked into at some point. She noticed, and once seen, it was hard to unsee.

  “Missed me?” she purred.

  In spite of my traitorous body’s arousal, my brain wasn’t impressed. “I made it exceedingly clear that we aren’t doing this anymore.” I was having trouble keeping my anger below the surface.

  She stood in all her naked glory. “I thought I’d surprise you.”

  “How did you get past Sandra? She’s pretty much Fort Knox.”

  “It was easy. I don’t think anyone told your prison warden that I was no longer coming.” She slunk over to me, her eyes blazing with lust. “If you really didn’t want to see me again, one would think that would have been the first thing you’d done.”

  “I told her to call me if you came to the office, so either someone wasn’t doing their job, or someone is lying.” I had a pretty solid bet which it was.

  She sighed dramatically. “Fine, I waited till she left her desk for the copy machine.”

  “I need you to leave, I have work to do.” I went to my desk and booted my laptop, trying to not even think about what Caitlyn would do if she ever learned about this.

  She followed me to the chair and leaned down to press her lips to my ear. “You don’t want to do your work; you want me. It’s been too long.”

  When her hand moved to my crotch, I batted it away. “I’m exclusive with Caitlyn, so I’m not interested in anything casual anymore.”

  “Great, you’ve conquered your conquest.” Her hand went back to my fly. “Now you can fuck me.”

  I stood up, ready to toss her out of my office when the phone rang. At first, I thought it might be Sandra before realizing my door was still open.

  I grabbed Rachel’s wrists, holding them both in front of me. “Stop, get dressed, and leave.” I was pissed.

  Instead of doing what I asked, Rachel sank to her knees. “Just a little lovin’ first. Let me make you feel good.”

  “Are you completely out of your mind? The fucking door is open and you’re totally fucking naked.” I tried to yank her up, but she went limp like a freaking toddler, and ended up staying where she was.

  “Oh, come on. You love a little PDA.” Since I was still holding her wrists, she surprised me by leaning forward and pressing her face to my zipper.

  As if I was in some nightmare, I heard the door in the outer office open. I expected to see Sandra, and that would have been bad enough. But — shit, shit, shit — it was Caitlyn. And I’d never seen anyone look more surprised. Or hurt.

  I knew what this looked like, I wasn’t a fool. But I also knew what this wasn’t, and from the look that was now taking over Caitlyn’s face, she wasn’t in the mood to believe me.

  “Fuck!” I yelled and tried to push Rachel away. The damn woman sprang back, her hands clutching at me again.

  “Come on, baby. Now that you’ve fucked your little waitress, it’s my turn again.”

  Caitlyn gasped, her hand coming up to her mouth, and Rachel’s head whipped around, seeing her in the outer office for the first time.

  Rising slowly from the floor, Rachel made a show of wiping off her mouth, an evil glint in her eyes. “Looks like I won that bet, baby. I owe you a dollar.”

  Time stopped, and all I could do was shake my head. No, it’s not true. No, this isn’t what it seems. No. No. No.

  Caitlyn whirled and stormed out. This couldn’t be happening.

  I went to race after her, but damn Rachel grabbed my leg, slowing my progress. “Get out,” I roared at her, shoving her hands off me. “And don’t you ever come back.”

  Bursting into the hallway, the damn elevator door closed before I could get inside. Fuck. That gave her a twenty-three-floor head start. A startled looking Sandra appeared around the corner, a coffee mug in hand.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I pointed at the office. “Get her out. Call security if necessary. And never let her back in.”

  Sandra began to cry. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  “It’s okay,” I said as I took off for the stairs. “Not your fault. Just get her out.”

  I was dripping sweat by the time I got to the bottom and burst outside. No Caitlyn. Her Volvo was there, a very confused looking valet holding the keys.

  “Mr. Preston, the lady left these with me to give you.”

  “Where is she?”

  He pointed to the cab pulling out onto the street. I took off. This was fucking New York. She’d be snarled in traffic. She wouldn’t get ten feet.

  But no.

  The one minute I craved a traffic jam, there was none. And even as I ran, the yellow car turned the corner and was gone.

  My world shattered and there wasn’t enough rage inside me to glue the pieces back together. I wanted to go back upstairs and rip Rachel apart, but I knew she was just doing what she did, what we did until a few weeks ago. How could she know how much I had tried to change? Had changed?

  Thank god Rachel was dressed when I walked back into my office. “So I take it that was the little waitress?”

  “Get out.” I looked at Sandra. “Call security.”

  Rachel huffed. “No need in that. I’m going.”

  But she didn’t fucking move. “Out. Now.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “You really like this girl, don’t you? I’ve never seen you have remorse for anything. It was just a blowjob, she’ll get over it. Take her some flowers and give her a few orgasms and she’ll be putty in your hands.” Rachel grabbed her bag and blew me a kiss as she passed by.

  “Get out!”

  Rachel opened the door, but stopped and turned back. “I’m gonna miss that dick of yours. It was the best fucker in town. Oh, well, maybe I’ll now find a real man without your cock to distract me. See you around.”

  Sandra looked like she was about to have a stroke, and I reminded myself to give her a fat bonus.

  “I’m sorry,” I told her and meant it.

  She relaxed fractionally. “I—”

  “Didn’t deserve to witness that,” I finished for her. “It won’t happen again.”

  She nodded. “Mr. Preston?”

  “Yes?”

  “Go after her.” When I just stared, she added, “Not that one.” She wrinkled her nose. “The other. Your girlfriend.”

  Yes, she was getting a huge bonus.

  I nodded. “I will.”

  Not that it did any good.

  I camped out on her front porch, but she didn’t come home, and Richard shut his door in my face when I knocked. Tammy gave me the most intense tongue-lashing I’d ever received in my life.

  Tail tucked between my legs, Robert drove me back to New York, me pressing the redial button every few minutes. Voicemail every time.

  The thing was, I knew I deserved all that nonsense. It’d never occurred to me that Rachel had real feelings for me, but a few days later, she sent an email apologizing and confessing her love.

  But she loved the me I was before — cold, ruthless, rich, and wild. Caitlyn had grown to love the man I was trying to become.

  I kept calling her, but she never answered. And the one time the call did go through, it was Tammy with a few choice words on where I could stick my dick.

  It was all pretty soul-crushing. I couldn’t call Wenton. These matters were over his head, and the news of Caitlyn leaving would surely kill him. Since I had a sparring match already on the books with Lucas, I decided to raise the white flag.

  “Can we cancel tonight’s workout?” I asked with my heart dragging behind me.

  “Wow, what happened to you?”

  “I need advice.”

  “Okay, let’s hit the pub and hash this out. I can kick your ass another day, seems like someone has already done a fair j
ob of it already.”

  We drank more scotch than we should have, and by the time Lucas was firing out his ideas to get Caitlyn back, we were both really drunk.

  “Okay, I think I got it. It’s really hard for women to turn down men when they come in riding on a white horse, professing their undying love and devotion,” Lucas slurred.

  “What? You want me to buy a white horse? That seems a little over the top.”

  “No, not a real horse, idiot!” he chided.

  “Well a fake one sounds more stupid,” I fought back.

  “Remember that scene in Say Anything where Andrew McCarthy shows up with a boom box and plays Peter Gabriel’s ‘In Your Eyes?’ It was the song they made-up fucked to, remember?”

  “Kind of, that’s a pretty old chick flick.” I was suddenly very discouraged. That was all he had for me?

  “But that scene, that’s a famous fucking scene, more famous than the movie,” he encouraged.

  “The movie was shit.” I hated that film, probably because I felt like the embezzling father on occasion.

  I never stole money, but I stole other stuff. Hearts mostly.

  “But you gotta pull a ‘Say Anything’ man.” He was bro’ing out on me, but I got his point, and it gave me an idea.

  “I think you might be onto something,” I conceded and Lucas thumped his chest.

  We finished our drinks and Robert took our drunk asses home.

  The next day, I had a raging hangover, but I was pumped. I would pitch Caitlyn’s animated series at the Friday pitch meeting then head out of work early to put “Project Prince Charming” into place.

  The pitch went well, most of the executives loved the idea, and a few had biases about the subject matter. Since I was the president of the company, I figured I would get my way as long as I had a majority, which I did. I would just whittle down the rest. By four o’clock, I was out of the office and had Project Prince Charming in play. I got Robert up to speed and he drove me to an antique car dealership where I bought an old model white Mustang convertible. I made sure the muffler made lots of noise.