Vote Then Read: Volume III

by Aleatha Romig

  “And seriously, don’t stress,” I say, forcing a smile. “This will be the easiest job I’ve pulled in months. I’ll get to spend the week hanging out with a friend, eat too much wedding food, and make a couple of assholes feel terrible about themselves. Sounds like my kind of vacation.”

  Her lips quirk. “Well, at least you won’t have to do any of the usual detective or hacker stuff. I don’t want to air my mom’s dirty laundry or get Phillip arrested. I just want to be able to keep my chin up during all the stupid festivities.”

  I meet her gaze and hold it as I promise, “And you will. By the time we head back to the city, every woman at that wedding will wish she was you.”

  Penny’s cheeks flush and her chest rises and falls and I’m forced to exert another Herculean amount of will power to keep my gaze from drifting to places it shouldn’t.

  But it’s worth it to see the look in her eyes as she says, “Thank you, Bash.”

  “You’re welcome, Penny.” I smile, a real one this time because I can see that I’ve made someone I care about very happy, and then I finally make my escape.

  I pound down the stairs and out into the cool spring evening and set off at a jog toward the subway, hoping that putting some distance between us will help me forget how right it felt to have Penny’s body pressed tight to mine.

  13

  From the e-mail archives of Sebastian “Bash” Prince and Penny Pickett

  From: MagnificentBastard1

  To: Penny4YourLobsterPot

  Re: This e-mail address

  Okay, I give,

  What’s with the lobster pot in the e-mail, buttercup? Are you from Maine? Did you grow up a lobster farmer’s daughter? Or do you just have an inordinately strong love for large saltwater crustaceans?

  Bash, who is bored and drinking alone because Aidan is working and you refuse to get out of your house and come enjoy the happiest of hours.

  From: Penny4YourLobsterPot

  To: Magnificent Bastard1

  Re: This e-mail address

  If I told you, I’d have to kill you.

  Sincerely, Penny

  p.s. Just say the word and I’ll share the new password for your LetsGoLove account. I’m sure there are some mildly psychotic women in Manhattan you haven’t been out on a date with yet.

  Text from Bash to Penny: :p :p :p :p

  14

  When I get home, I head straight to the shower even though I showered less than five hours ago and I certainly didn’t work up a sweat riding the train to and from Brooklyn.

  But I need something to take the edge off.

  Even after the walk to the subway station from Penny’s place, a twenty-minute train ride, and another ten-minute walk to my own apartment, I’m still hard. Every time my erection starts to subside, my glutton-for-punishment brain flashes back to the feel of Penny’s leg wrapped around my waist and her pussy rubbing against my cock and I’m right back where I started—hard, aching, frustrated, and desperate to come, preferably inside my assistant.

  It’s wrong.

  It’s so, so wrong, and the thoughts buzzing through my brain, the ones that wonder if Penny was as turned on as I was and if she laid down on her comfy blue couch and slipped her hand down the front of her panties after I left, are not helping me regain control.

  I should not be thinking about Penny getting herself off, one hand rolling her nipples while the other strokes the slick flesh between her legs. I should be thinking about something else, anything else.

  Or more accurately, anyone else.

  Even if I can’t help having sex on the brain, I could certainly shift the direction of my thoughts. I’ve got plenty of spank bank material stored up. I’ve even got a sex tape or two lurking in the depths of my hard drive. Betsy, the woman I dated last summer, had a thing for watching homemade porn. We made our first video on our second date and by the time we went our separate ways a few weeks later, I had close to three hours of high definition fucking shot from every angle in my bedroom.

  I could have some hot and filthy material pulled up on my laptop in a few minutes. But I don’t want to jerk off to the sight of Betsy’s ass rippling while she rides me reverse cowgirl.

  I want Penny’s dark eyes flashing as I spread her legs and settle between them. I want to imagine the way her pretty face would twist with desire as I go to work, driving my tongue deep into her pussy as I reach up to tease her nipples between my fingers. I want to hear her calling my name in her sweet and sexy voice as she comes on my mouth and feel her hands clawing at my shoulders as she begs me to fuck her.

  I want it so bad that as I step into the shower and take my cock in my hand, I swear I can almost see her standing in front of me, her chest rising and falling the way it was when I left her apartment.

  But this time, she isn’t wearing a dress. She’s naked, her full breasts bared to my gaze, her dusky nipples pulled tight, and the look in her eyes leaving no doubt how much she wants me.

  “Please, Bash,” she breathes, her fingers trailing down my chest. “I want you inside of me. I want it so much.”

  “How much?” I palm her breasts, rubbing my thumbs across her puckered tips. She gasps and arches into my touch as her hands continue their journey south.

  “It’s pretty much all I can think about.” She wraps her fingers around my shaft and strokes me up and down, drawing a groan from low in my throat. “I’m so wet for you. Feel.”

  Penny takes my hand and guides it between her legs before her attention returns to my cock.

  “Damn,” I curse, my breath hitching as I let my fingers glide through her slick flesh, teasing through her folds before I bring two fingers to her entrance and push inside.

  Her head falls back with a sigh as I finger fuck her, granting me a heart-stopping view of her nipples only inches away from my chest. “I can’t wait to be with you. I seriously can’t wait, Bash. If you make me, I’m going to go out of my mind.”

  “I won’t make you wait, sweetheart.” I’m panting now, breath rasping in and out and my dick leaking pre-come into her hand as she jerks me off, just as desperate to fuck as she is. “Come here.”

  A second later, I’ve picked her up, hitched her curvy legs around my waist, pressed her back against the slick wall of the shower and shoved my aching cock into where she is so hot and wet I’m pretty sure I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  “Fuck, Penny.” I groan against her mouth as I push deeper. “We should have been doing this months ago, years ago.”

  “Yes, fuck, yes,” she agrees as I begin to move, sliding in and out while she rocks against me, taking more of me with every thrust. “You’re so fucking good, you’re going to make me come so hard. So fucking hard!”

  Fantasy Penny drops the eff bomb way more often than Reality Penny, but it doesn’t matter. By the time my phone starts to ring, blaring like a foghorn from where it rests on the back of the toilet, I’m so turned on I’m seconds away from coming hard enough to drown a small country.

  There’s no way I’m stopping to answer the phone. Whoever’s calling is just going to have to leave a fucking message.

  I pump into my own hand, trying to recapture the feeling of being inside Penny’s slick, tight pussy, but I’ve lost her. I come staring down into one unblinking eye instead of Penny’s soulful brown ones.

  My cock jerks in my fist and my balls call out Hallelujah as the pressure that’s been building inside them for the past hour is finally released, but the orgasm isn’t what it would have been. It’s a release, a relief, but it isn’t the soul shattering, earth-shaking, come-a-geddon I was on my way to achieving before I was so rudely interrupted.

  “Fuck,” I grunt, gritting my teeth as I ride out the final waves. Breathing hard from a mixture of relief and frustration at having my fantasy ripped away seconds before the main event, I turn into the spray, letting the warm water wash away the evidence of my complete lack of professionalism.

  I just busted a nut while thinking of an employee. I�
�m ashamed of myself, but not so ashamed I don’t have plans to try to recapture that fantasy again later tonight while I’m in bed.

  But first, to track down something for dinner.

  Five minutes later, I’m clean, dry, and plucking my phone from the back of the john to see I’ve received a voice message.

  From Penny.

  My pulse picks up. I feel like I’ve been caught come-handed even though of course there’s no way Penny could have known she was calling while I was busy screwing my fantasy version of her against the wall of the shower. Still, I can’t deny that anxiety tickles along my nerve endings as I bring the phone to my ear.

  “Hey, Bash. Sorry to call,” she says, sounding a little out of breath. “I know you said you were beat, but I just wanted to tell you again how thankful I am for your help. You would have had every right to yell at me for lying and ruining your vacation and fire me on the spot. But instead, you’re helping me and I appreciate it so much. I promise I will make this as painless for you as possible, which includes not giving you any more crap about the clothing stuff.”

  She laughs uncomfortably, and my mind spits up a mental picture of her nose wrinkling and her mouth shifting to the side of her face. We’ve only spent a few hours together, but I’m already memorizing her expressions.

  I’m not sure what that means, but I’m guessing it isn’t good.

  “So anyway,” she continues. “Just wanted you to know that from here on out I’m going to be the most painless client ever. No more stressing or causing you stress or worrying about things that I shouldn’t be worrying about because obviously you know what you’re doing. And um…everything is cool.”

  The line is quiet for a moment and I expect to hear her hang up, but instead she suddenly blurts out in a rush—

  “And I’m so sorry about getting a little enthusiastic with the kissing practice. I’m mortified that I did the thing. With the leg. My leg.” She clears her throat. “And I’ve been sitting here thinking about it and wondering if you think I’m a crazy person who can’t follow the rules. But I am well aware of the rules and I am all about following them. It’s just been a while and the physical contact went to my head.”

  She sucks in a breath. “But my head is in the game now and it will stay there. I hope we’re good and nothing will be weird. Because even though we just met in person, you’re a big part of my life and I don’t want to lose your friendship. Or my job. But probably your friendship even more. Because I don’t have many friends and you’re a good one. The end.”

  She hangs up, leaving me standing holding the phone, feeling terrible for being a filthy minded fucker who barely put up a fight before giving in to the temptation to jerk off to fantasies of a fragile, vulnerable woman who is in no place to be fending off the inappropriate advances of her boss.

  Yes, Penny is funny and sharp and one of those high energy people who makes you feel a little bit more alive just by being around her. But she’s also been suffering through some seriously heartbreaking drama with her mom and her ex, been deprived the company of the little sisters she loves, and from the sound of it, been living like an agoraphobic spinster instead of a gorgeous young woman who should be taking the angsty hipster men of Brooklyn by storm.

  She needs friendship and support, not more drama. It doesn’t matter that she isn’t paying me. I’ve done pro bono work before and those women received the same high quality, professional treatment that the women who can afford to pay my retainer receive. Penny deserves no less.

  Feeling properly ashamed of myself, I type in a quick text—

  Just got your message. I was in the shower. Don’t worry about anything that happened tonight. We were both tired and weird things happen when you’re tired. Everything is going to be fine.

  Get some rest and I’ll see you at ten a.m. tomorrow.

  Oh, and bring some heels to try on with the dresses.

  And just so you know, my friendship and this job are yours for as long as you want them. No matter what.

  Sleep tight.

  I wait for a response, keeping my phone close as I change into my softest pair of pajama pants and make a BLT with a side of carrot sticks and call it dinner. But my phone remains silent.

  I finish my meal and settle down to watch Sports Center with a container of Salted Caramel Crack ice cream, but my team is already out of the playoffs, and as I watch the clock tick closer to ten, all I can think about is how much I want to hear Penny’s voice. But I don’t pick up the phone. I need to show her that I can honor her boundaries. And my own.

  So when I slip into bed a few hours later, I don’t let my hand anywhere near my dick or my thoughts anywhere near Penny.

  Both things are hard, way harder than they should be.

  15

  I arrive at the Chelsea Market's Good Bakery a few minutes after ten, but Penny is nowhere to be seen. I do a lap of the repurposed industrial complex, once home to bakeries churning out Oreo cookies, but now housing dozens of gourmet shops and restaurants. I’m concerned that Penny might be waiting at one of the other bakeries, which are also good, though not with a capital G, but she’s nowhere to be found.

  I’m about to text her and ask if she needs directions when my phone hums against my thigh. I glance down at the screen, expecting a message from Penny, saying she’s on her way, but see Sheila’s name instead.

  Just met your assistant!

  My brows snap together. What the fuck?

  Oh my God, Bash, she’s divine! So sweet and funny, with the most darling figure. And those eyes!

  Gah! I swear they could melt panties at fifty paces. Right?

  An emoji of a smiley face with hearts where its eyes should be pops up, making me frown harder even before the rest of Sheila’s message filters through.

  We got her all set up with four AMAZING outfits and I gave her your usual discount so no worries. She’s going to knock everyone’s socks off at that wedding.

  And just in case I totally misread her and she is actually into other women and not in a serious relationship could you please, please, please give her my number? I would never ask if she were one of your clients, but since she’s just a friend and employee you’re helping out as a favor…

  Tell me if I’m crossing a line because your business is always my number one priority but damn, Bash, that girl is something else.

  An emoji of another smiley face, this time with its tongue hanging out, pops up, inspiring a confusing mixture of irritation and…jealousy.

  Surprised, I take a closer look at the greenish tinged, sulfurous-smelling emotion swirling through my chest.

  Yep. It’s jealousy, an emotion that has no place in my relationship with Penny or Sheila, especially since I have no idea if Penny swings in that particular direction.

  Sure, she seemed pretty into kissing me last night, but that was just practice for deceiving her smarmy ex-boyfriend and she admitted in her message that her reaction was a result of being deprived of human contact, not meaningful attraction. And even if she does enjoy men in the bedroom, that doesn’t automatically mean she might not enjoy women, too. For a lot of women, sexuality can be a fluid thing and Penny might very well be among them, especially when a woman like Sheila is the potential partner in question.

  Sheila is five feet nine inches of elegant redhead, with alabaster skin, sky blue eyes and an infectious smile, who always smells like she’s been walking through an herb garden instead of shuffling around a filthy city. She also happens to be as lovely on the inside as she is on the outside, and until this very moment, I would have insisted it was impossible for her to inspire a negative emotion in anyone, especially me.

  But it takes a surprising amount of will power for me to thumb in a civil—

  No worries, no lines have been crossed. Thanks for helping her out.

  I’m not sure where she stands on other women, but if she asks for your number, I’ll make sure she gets it.

  I hit send with gritted teeth. My jaw is still cle
nched when my phone begins to ring. This time, it’s Penny.

  “So I hear you went shopping without me,” I say by way of greeting, not surprised that I sound grouchy.

  I feel grouchy. Sure, I was a little anxious about how a shopping trip with Penny would play out after the awkwardness of last night, but I still don’t enjoy being cut out of the loop.

  More than that, I just wanted to see her, damn it.

  “Don’t be mad,” she says. “I knew if you went with me you would try to pay the way you did for the last pro bono case and I didn’t want to get into an argument. I promised I was going to be the easiest client ever, remember?”

  I step into an alcove beneath a brick archway, staying out of the way as the traffic through the market increases. “I don’t consider it easy to be heading into this having no idea what you’re going to be wearing. I understand that you find the concept of armor silly, but it’s an important part of what I do.”

  “I don’t find it silly. I know it’s important. But I know you trust Sheila, so I made sure she approved every outfit. I was in there for over an hour.”

  I grunt. “I would have made you try on skirts for an hour. We wouldn’t have even gotten to the dresses, not to mention shoes and accessories.”

  “Oh, well,” she says, falling silent for a moment. “Well, I wasn’t quite that thorough, but I tried on everything in the store that was in my size. And Sheila picked out the accessories and shoes. She was so sweet and helpful.”

  “I bet she was,” I grumble beneath my breath, imagining Sheila gushing over Penny’s “darling figure” and not enjoying the fantasy one little bit. “Did you, at least, take pictures? So I can see what color palette I need to work with when I pack?”

  She laughs. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I’m serious,” I say, bristling. “It’s important that we match, but not match too much. There’s a science to this, Penelope.”