6. Maverick #2
It’s too easy. A few words, a half-smile, and they’re falling over themselves to please me. It used to feel like power. Now it just feels…empty .
She thinks she’s the first to offer everything for nothing. She’s not. And I’m not proud of what I do with girls like her. But pride doesn’t matter when you’re starving for something real and know damn well it’s not her.
I turn to walk away from her, but she reaches out and snags my hand, halting me.
“I can be good at other things,” she says, pushing her tits together and leaning forward as if I was supposed to be excited by a B cup. “Please, I’ll do anything. Let me show you how good I can be for you.”
“Fine,” I say, rolling my eyes.
My cock has been hard since the second Con had suggested this little game, and maybe she could ease some of the pressure.
“Really?” Her eyes light up as if I had said I was taking her to Disney World.
“Get on your knees,” I say, already bored as I unzip my fly and pull out my cock.
To the girl’s credit, she gets straight to work, and her eagerness is appealing. If only she was good at it. She doesn’t know to hollow her cheeks or use her tongue to massage the underside of my cock, but maybe she just needs to warm up.
I grab my phone and don’t even bother texting. I just call Atticus. He’s always the Titan to call when it comes to schemes.
“Hey, I don’t think she agreed to the deal, man.”
“Really? How do you know that?” Atticus asks. I can hear a woman in the background, mad that he answered the phone. At least the girl on her knees in front of me doesn’t seem to mind that I’m multitasking.
I reach down and wrap a hand in her hair and guide her to take me deeper. My God, it’s like she’s never actually sucked a big cock before. She struggles for a moment, but at least she’s trying. I’ll give her a few more minutes to see if she can adjust. I should at least pretend to be a gentleman.
“Because I had this Sally girl, another maid, try to talk to Phoenix to see if she could get some information from her,” I answer.
The girl stops sucking. “It’s Sar?—”
“I don’t care.” Grabbing the back of her head, I push her back down on my cock .
“What did Phoenix say?”
“Not a goddamn thing. But I heard Con’s dad tell his secretary to let him know the second the girl called back, and if not, then he was going to up the amount.”
“At least he knows we won’t tolerate anyone else but Phoenix.”
“True that. God, I can’t wait to win this fucking bet. That girl should’ve spent the last several years learning every single ridge and vein in my cock.”
Atticus huffs. “You know she has to actually beg for your cock, right? You can’t just fuck her and win.”
“Bitches beg for my cock all the time,” I argue. “This maid, Sandra, begged to blow me right here in the fucking hallway. So like a gentleman—or whatever passes for one—I’m letting her suck my dick.”
I can practically hear Atticus roll his eyes.
“Despite Con’s parents insisting she’s some money-grabbing idiot, Phoenix has never been the kind of dumb bitch who thinks she can suck her way to our wallets or our parents’ influence,” Atticus points out.
“If that were the case, then this wouldn’t even be a bet—she would’ve been bouncing between the four of us for years.
This is going to take something that I don’t think you know how to do, brother. ”
“Oh, and what the fuck is that?”
“This is going to take work…finesse. I don’t think you have it in you.”
I tilt back my head and laugh. “Fuck off, man,” I say good-naturedly. It’s the best part about being a Titan—the amount of shit that we’re able to give each other even when no one else would dare. We kept each other grounded…humble…sort of.
“So what are we going to do if Phoenix doesn’t take the bait?”
Atticus doesn’t answer me for a few moments. At first I think his attention might be back on the girl that he had over there, but then I hear a sigh of frustration.
“We’re going to give her twenty-four hours. Let her make up her own mind. If she doesn’t do what we need her to by then, then we’re going to force her hand.”
“How? ”
“Oh, don’t worry. I have my ways.” The way he says the statement is made more ominous by the smacking sound that follows it and a muffled scream.
“All right,” I agree. “Twenty-four hours. Then we force her hand.”
I hang up the line as another cry sounds from the other end and look down at the girl who’s still trying to suck my cock.
I grab a fistful of her hair again and pull her off. Her lips are swollen, messy with her saliva, and her eyes are a little glassy. If only she were my little Firebird, then maybe my dick would be more interested. I push her away, sending her sprawling on her ass, and tuck my dick away.
Pulling my wallet from my pocket, I pull a few hundred dollars out and fling them at her.
“Sorry, Sam. I don’t have time to teach you how to suck a cock. Take some lessons or something, then come find me again,” I say, turning my back on her and walking away.
Was it a dick move? Yes.
Did I feel bad about treating her like shit? No .
Since I was sixteen, I found out the hard way that the only way to keep the thirsty girls who worked at the resort in line was to be a dick.
They all thought that they could suck their way to my heart, or my wallet, or whatever.
Unless I am a dick and piss them off. If I piss them off, they leave me the fuck alone.
Maybe that’s what I wanted, once. Not the sucking—the staying. The loyalty. But somewhere along the way, I figured out it wasn’t going to happen. So I shut it down. Push them away before they get too close. Before they start thinking they matter.
The problem is, it works too well. Now there’s no one left I’d want to let in.
And that’s the way I like it, because I certainly don’t need or want another stalker situation.
The only one I want is my little firebird, and I can be patient. She’ll be mine soon enough.