My 3 Rockstar Bosses

I nod as we soar over Central Park. She’s right. It was kind of an oversight on my part to begin the painting process without meeting the artist. I just trusted Edwin to make an informed decision.

“Is he a well-known painter?” I ask curiously. Not that I really know anything about art. All those gallery parties I’ve been to throughout my last decade were pretty boring. But then again, it wasn’t their fault. It was me. I was a shell-shocked mess after the war, and nothing could touch my soul.

Until now. I take Lacy’s left hand in mine. I feel her ring finger and the space I want my ring to go. I lean over and kiss her neck. That’s one of her favorite spots. She starts to melt in her chair. My little girl is horny. I should have known. It’s been hours since I last suckled her pink clit. We’ll be heading straight to the Jungle Room once we land … and I’ll make my favorite girl scream with the best of them.

CHAPTER 13

LACY

Oh my god! I’m freaking out but I can’t show Howie how scared I am because I don’t want him to worry. Because as soon as we circled the United States coastline in the private jet, I started to get the text messages

. The texts were pretty harmless, but they were from Charlie. I deleted his number from my phone years ago, but it doesn’t matter because Charlie sent me pictures of his sketches.

I can see that he hasn’t deleted my phone number yet. This is wildly inappropriate. But at the same time, wouldn’t this happen in a professional painter-subject relationship? I just don’t know. That’s why I asked Howie to come with me to the next session. As I enter the penthouse, I see Edwin and give him a hug. I give Albie her present and she is happy. She’s been a little mean to me ever since I got promoted from maid to mistress. Well, not mistress. Sometimes I feel like a dirty slut on the side of this rich man’s life, but from the way he told me he loves me in the barn on the villa, I just know it. Howie is the one.

“Lacy, Howie, welcome home.” Edwin is beaming. “Look, I know you’ve just arrived, but the painter is scheduled for today. For right now in fact. He’s waiting in the studio.”

Before I can speak, words jump out of Howie’s mouth.

“Bring him up. We need to meet each other.”

I’m so sick to my stomach. I don’t know if Edwin can see my fear, so I try to play it cool. I slide down the hallway of oil paintings and towards the bedroom. I lay down my satchel and walk to the bathroom before splashing water on my face. I have no desire to hurt Howie. In fact, it’s the last thing I want. All I really desire is to make sure Charlie gets some money so he can start his new life, without me.

Oh god. All of this worrying is going to make me break out, so I slather bee pollen cream on my face when Howie pops his head in. He’s smiling because he doesn’t suspect a thing.

“Baby, I wanted to get you right into the Jungle Room, but I guess our homecoming celebration is going to have to wait. But I crave you Princess. Your juicy cunt on my lips.” He licks his lips and a shiver of pleasure runs down my spine. If only I could be in my lacey negligee right now, spread eagle on the circle bed while pushing my gushing cunt in my man’s mouth and then pulsing up and down on his massive shaft. God, what I wouldn’t give to have all of this melt away! But the painter is here. He’s in the living room waiting.

I slip off my flight outfit and into something more comfortable. I need to breathe. I put on simple leggings and an oversized sweatshirt that comes off one shoulders. I let my blond hair fall down from its bun. Here we go. I can do it.

I enter the living room and Charlie and Howie are already chatting.

“Hey hon,” Howie says, turning my way. “This is Charlie Baker from my tour in Afghanistan. We were in the same squad together! What a coincidence because I haven’t seen this guy for almost a decade.”

Howie wraps his arm around Charlie, who sort of fake smiles in his painter smock. His beard has grown out since we went away. He looks like a total bohemian from 1920’s Paris. This can’t be happening.

“Wow, what a coincidence,” I say with fake enthusiasm, but inside, my soul is curdling because I can’t believe I’m deceiving my man. I need to tell him that Charlie was once my boyfriend, and that we even lived together.

“You look nice, Lacy,” says Charlie formally, assessing my body. I hope Howie takes it as an artistic once-over, and not the male / female kind of once-over.

Howard just laughs.

“Now Charlie. You wouldn’t be making eyes at my Lacy now, would you?” he says. I shoot Charlie a nervous look. Doesn’t he remember our agreement?

“Of course not. It’s just that-”

“What?” asks Howie.

“It’s just that I’ve never seen her look so pretty as she does right now.”

Fuck Charlie! I feel my cheeks go hot. Howie cocks his head to the right and looks confused.

“You mean, from the last time you saw her? During the first painting session?”

I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. The tension between the two men is mounting.

Charlie is falling over himself trying to make amends.

“Yes,” he speaks quickly. “Since the first painting session. I’ve never seen her look so pretty. Because we’ve never met before.”