CHAPTER ELEVEN
COLT
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“Do you have a pen pal, or are we just boring?” Mason complains as I send a message back to Riley.
Sexy, untouchable Riley.
God, I’ve wanked off to her more times than I did the posters on my wall as a kid.
“Are you sexting?” Zander asks, leaning over his shoulder and squinting.
“Dude.” I slam the screen against his chest. “Confidential matters.”
No way am I letting the bozos know about Riley. They’ll have strong opinions that I’m not interested in hearing. They’ll tell me to leave her alone and not play around with her.
That’s exactly what I want to do. Play all night long. And listen to the sounds she makes when I suck on her clit, pressing my cock deep inside her, and as she chokes on my dick.
Little by little I’m wearing her down and opening her up. Does she know her nipples harden when I call and she’s in the kitchen cooking? Are her panties getting wet?
If I were there in the flesh, I’d fucking find out.
She’d be stirring her chicken whatever while my tongue was plunged into her dripping wet cunt.
And yes, I’ve jerked off to that fantasy too.
Sebastian snorts.
“What?” I snap at Seb.
“How confidential can the IP in a sex club be?”
“AI sex rooms?” Drew grins, then shovels food into his mouth. “Gotta happen eventually.”
“Jesus, that terrifies my dick.” Mason shakes his head and takes a large sip of coffee.
“Actually, there’s a lot of things going on in the AI space for the industry. But I don’t want to offend Mason’s delicate cock, so I’ll keep the IP—thank you very much, Sebastian—to myself.”
I slide my phone into my pocket to get them off my scent. They are all like a dog with a bone about me messaging recently.
Like they know something is up.
Which is usually my cock when Riley sends me a picture of her in the garden. Those little boots and her socks make her slim, golden-tanned legs so damn sexy.
Like a highway to heaven.
Right up to her pussy.
“Nothing at your club offends my cock. But if you install robots who want to suck me off, I might be washing my hair on Friday nights from now on.” Zander chomps down on a piece of bacon.
Friday night at the Obsidian Club has been quiet when it comes to the guys showing up. It used to be like a religion for us. Sebastian is engaged and expecting a baby. Mason hasn’t been in for a while. So only Zander and Drew are regular patrons.
I pull out my phone, unable to wait any longer, and smirk at Riley’s reply.
I love my friends, but if I could push a button and make everyone on earth disappear so I could Facetime Riley and see her beautiful face, then I would.
Zander and Mason are staring at me again when I glance up.
Shit.
“Hey, were you joking about firing Lexi?” Sebastian asks.
What? Why was he considering firing Lexi?
“Ah,” Mason replies, looking sheepish.
“I saw you drag her outside at the party. Because she was talking to that guy Craig?” Zander asks.
“No. It was a work thing—”
“He fucked her,” Sebastian says, and we all nod.
“Inevitable.”
“Saw that coming.” Drew sips his water.
I start chuckling.
“Excuse me. I don’t go around fucking my employees. It was not inevitable. These are extenuating circumstances.” Mason slams his coffee cup down as Zander starts laughing.
“What circumstances? Her tits?” I lift an amused brow.
“I shouldn’t have hired her. I wanted to fuck her the moment we shook hands. But I needed her specific set of skills—”
“I bet you did,” Zander nods slowly.
Mason looks ready to explode, and I’m trying not to have a laughing fit.
He’s Mr. Always In Control.
Not anymore, apparently.
From what I’ve ascertained here, Mason hired Lexi, who is Emily, Seb’s fiancée, best friend. And he slept with her. Never a good thing to do with your secretary. History tells us that.
I half tune out as Mason defends himself, explaining that he isn’t falling in love with Lexi, but we all know that when you over explain you are... guilty.
Guess another friend is getting fucking married.
I keep my thoughts to myself and make a note to reply to Todd. He’s sent me contracts to look over—unprompted, I might add—and I can’t fault the guy for being persistent.
The clock is ticking on their deadline.
Glancing around the table, I see mature faces. We’re all thirty-four, and while I know we have a lot of life in front of us, this is when people start settling down.
Sebastian is.
Mason could...although Lexi is a firecracker.
Fate brought those two women into their lives. I spend my days flying around in my private jet, in my office and at a goddamn sex club. Hardly going to bump into my future wife in those places.
Maybe The Final Rose is the right path for me. Sure, it’s not usual, but nothing about me ever has been.
I make a note to look through the paperwork tonight.
Meanwhile, I’m keen to get my little gardener to move that camera of hers south and part her legs so we can do some sexy playing.
God, the number of hours I’ve spent imagining her soaking cunt, her fingers circling her clit while I stare at the screen.
I catch myself staring across the restaurant. Sebastian watches me, so I dive into the conversation to avoid any more interrogation.
“Why did you step between Lexi and Craig Templeton? I know he’s a playboy, but that’s what condoms are for.”
“Oh, nice. So I should let her get gonorrhea?” Mason snaps at me.
“It’s none of our business who she sleeps with.” Drew challenged. “Unless...”
“Unless nothing. She’s my employee. If she catches crabs, she’ll take time off. I am clearly watching my bottom line.”
Zander snorts.
Mason lifts his fork at us. “Puzzle me this. Why did she come to the interview with Emily? Who brings a friend to a job interview? Don’t you think they might have manufactured this whole thing?”
I glance around.
We’re all somewhat untrusting of women after what Sandy did to Jack. Marrying him for his money then killing him.
Allegedly and all that.
She was never found guilty.
Except she is.
I wipe my mouth on a napkin and wonder if Riley has had thoughts about becoming Mrs. Winters.
I need to be careful.
It’s another argument for doing The Final Rose. The production company does all the background checks, so I know who they are going in.
While the guys and I promised one another that we’d marry for love, not money, I also promised my mother I would choose a good wife. More importantly, someone who won’t steal my hard-earned fortune.
Someone I like sucking my dick.
Love? I don’t know about that. Not everyone is lucky enough to find that. Maybe I’m just a realist.
I do want someone who fits into my family and will give me kids. Mom plans to retire soon, and I know she wants to be a grandmother. It’s no secret—she tells me every month when I go to dinner.
I’m thirty-four. I know I have time, but why wait?
This reality show is handing me everything I need on a silver platter.
I don’t want to be in my forties or fifties when I have kids or settle down. I want to homeschool them, show them the world and things our education system doesn’t cover.
Then they can go to an Ivy League college.
So why am I messing about with Riley?
Why aren’t I losing interest and sleeping with anyone else at the moment?
Why am I keeping her a secret?
And when am I going to sign the contract and tell Todd yes?