I rolled my eyes when I heard my best friend’s high-pitched mocking tone of a woman.
“Oh my god, Mr. Stoneridge. You are the biggest strongest man. Last night was the best night of my life—”
“Shut up, Haden. What do you want?”
He snickered, and the childish antic made me grin. He was the playful one between us. I was serious, a bit rough around the edges, while Haden liked to joke.
“Oh, I’m just reminding you of all the women in your life. That’s all.”
I had a bit of a reputation when it came to women. I liked to fuck.
And women liked to fuck me.
I didn’t fall in love. I didn’t do relationships.
I did orgasms. I gave them repeatedly until my partner was beyond satisfied, and then I gave in to my own pleasure. One fuck never felt better than the other. Sex was just sex, and sometimes the women became a little too attached to my ‘god-like’ fucking as they called it, and Haden loved to remind me of it all the time.
“You don’t need to remind me. I remember.” Kind of. I had never had a memorable lay. It sounded shallow and conceited, and for a while, I wondered if I was incapable of feeling love or anything more than what I did. It bothered me to a certain extent. I wasn’t heartless, but I didn’t care enough to remember the endless string of women.
Maybe I was a cold-hearted bastard like a lot of them said I was.
A knock at the door sounded, and I tossed the stress ball in the air as I leaned back in my leather desk chair to see Barbara holding a stack of papers and a coffee in the other hand. “There’s my favorite girl.”
“Who?” Haden asked from the other end of the phone.
“That sly tongue of yours will get you in trouble one day, Mr. Stoneridge.” Barbara sat the papers in front of me along with the aromatic coffee. It wasn’t steaming, and it made me smile.
“Thank you, Barbara.”
“Mmmhmm, Mr. Stoneridge. I’m going to lunch. An old lady needs her food.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I chuckled as she shut the door behind her. Sometimes, I thought she was the boss of me with how she told me what she was going to do.
“That Barbara,” Haden clicked his tongue. “If she were forty—no—twenty years younger, I’d go for it.”
I gave him a look of disgust even though he couldn’t see me. “She’d be sixty.”
“Sixty is the new thirty these days.”
“And they call me the dog.” I picked up the papers in front of me and sighed in disappointment when I flip through the resumes on my desk. “God, does anyone have experience anymore?” I tossed one after the other in the trash, very unimpressed with everyone.
“Still no luck with the personal assistant? How hard could it be? I could do it,” he said.
“I don’t want to see your ugly mug more than I have to.”
“Better looking than you.”
I snorted and flipped another page. “You wish.” I paused when I reached the next resume, and the breath left my lungs, the world around me stopped, and Haden’s voice rambling on and on about something faded into the background. The resume in front of me was amazing, but that wasn’t what caught my eye; it was the headshot photograph in the left corner. My god, she was fucking gorgeous.
My cock went hard as a rock, and my balls ached, pressuring me for release. I never reacted like this. Sweat beaded across my forehead, and I reached a finger out to touch her face. Her smile was bright, but it didn’t reach her eyes. I didn’t like that. All of her smiles should reach her eyes.
And fuck, those eyes made my cock leak. They were the color of pine, and her fire-red hair only made them look brighter. I never had a thing for redheads, but she was different. The long blazing locks curled down her shoulders in simple waves, and she had these small freckles dotting her nose and cheeks. My tongue twitched with the urge to trace and connect the pale copper flecks.
“Helllooo, Rick?” Haden called for me, but my attention was elsewhere. I squeezed my cock, swallowing a groan as I stared at her picture. “Godrick!” he shouted.
Hearing my full name snapped me out of my trance. I hated my name. “What?” I barked, never taking my eyes off the beauty in front of me.
“Where did you go?”