The Baddest Bad Boy

“Ready to get home?” I ask, like nothing’s wrong.

Sharon looks confused.

“But I haven’t finished my salad yet. And dessert. Don’t you want dessert?”

Her salad is untouched, save for a few ruffled lettuce leaves.

“Let’s get that packed up,” I say smoothly. “And no, I never eat dessert because it’s unhealthy. I’m sure you understand, seeing that you seem to have an in-depth knowledge of nutrition.”

Sharon looks stunned but the only thing she can do is nod slightly.

“Of course. I understand.”

With that, everything’s wrapped up and I usher the blonde model into my car. Pulling up in front of her apartment building, she hesitates, her hand on the door handle.

“Troy?” she asks tentatively.

I merely smile like nothing’s wrong.

“Goodnight Sharon,” I say. “I’ll see you around.”

As soon as her high heel hits the pavement, I’m off. She’s staring at me in the rearview mirror, clutching her purse with a look of bewilderment on her face, but I’m done. I’ve moved onto greener pastures, and they’re a lot more fertile by the looks of it because Cammie is luscious, gorgeous, and a very bad girl. Clearly, I pegged the curvy woman completely wrong. I thought she was an innocent but as we left the restaurant, five more photos came in, each raunchier than the last. I almost exploded in my pants, and Sharon didn’t have a chance after that.

Holy shit. What do I do? I’m flying back to the US tomorrow, and I have some time in Minnesota before my next job. Maybe I should stop by my brother Travis’s house. Or maybe, I should head straight to Cammie’s apartment. After all, I already know she’s a woman in need; the question is will she be raunchy and needy with me?

Once back at my hotel, I strip down and lie on the bed. The sheets are crisp white and the comforter a luxurious satin, but I hardly notice. Instead, my hand brings up the photos on my phone once more, and my chest begins to tighten. Cammie’s gorgeous with that sassy smile and twist to her hips. My lips ache to taste her creamy flesh, and to lick that hard nub between her thighs. She’s using multiple angles to show off the best parts of her body and my favorites are the ones where she’s clearly coming. Her beautiful face is contorted, lashes closed as the little death wracks her frame. Hot juices trail down her thighs, and I’d give anything for the opportunity to lap them up.

As my hand works up and down my stiff shaft, eyes still glued to the phone, any hesitation I had about confronting Cammie is gone. I need to know what she feels like, and not just what she looks like. With a roar, I explode, hot seed pouring into my palm. But still, my eyes remain glued to the screen because this beautiful woman just gave me everything, and now, I need her more than ever.

3

Cammie

* * *

Today has been a long day. One of my biggest clients decided they wanted to revamp their entire brand, and not only that, but they want it done within a month. That’s a lot of work to get done in a short space of time. After all, my company’s just me, so re-designing everything is going to take morning, noon and night. It might be time to consider hiring an intern or an assistant to help this business get to the next level.

I sigh. But that’s a problem for tomorrow because tonight, I’m exhausted and I’m going to enjoy my usual dose of reality TV. It’s nice because I’ve lived in this apartment for three days now and it feels like a home finally. I found a couch online for free and my dad and brothers managed to angle it into the apartment for me. Plus, Caitlin surprised me with a TV in addition to the beautiful curtains she made me. She swears it didn’t cost her much money, but it’s one of those fancy TVs that lets you watch all the streaming services without any extra devices, so I’m sure it was a pretty penny.

Tonight, I’m looking forward to watching my favorite reality show on Netflix. It’s a new one where couples don’t get to see what the other looks like. Instead, they’re supposed to fall in love via words and actions alone. It’s a totally ridiculous idea, but I’m fascinated by the premise.

I’m just settling into my new couch with an afghan on my lap when a banging on my door causes me to jump. Oh darn. It’s probably my super, Barney. I didn’t meet him until yesterday and he’s absolutely gross. The dude is in his fifties, with a big belly and unshaven face. He wears wifebeaters that have yellow stains under the armpits, but somehow, Barney seems to think that he’s the equivalent of an A-list movie star. Not only that, but in these past three days, he’s hit on me relentlessly. Just earlier when I left to go grocery shopping, he was ‘fixing’ something outside my door with his enormous plumber’s crack on display. I don’t think he’ll do anything crazy, but who knows? You can never be too sure.