Beg Me (Mess with Me 1)

“Fucking hell,” I mutter in disbelief.

“It’s okay,” she assures me. Which is a nice thing to do since in her position I’d be pissed off. Then again she seems like a nice lady. What was her name again? Justine? Jasmine? Jessica?

“It happens to the best of us sometimes,” she continues. “You’re so fucking hot, I figured I’d take my shot before you left. I heard your co-workers mention you’d be leaving soon.”

Under any other circumstances, the mention of my co-workers would be the ultimate buzzkill but not today. Because dirty thoughts about one of my co-workers in particular is to blame for why I’m standing in the middle of the women’s bathroom at a bar.

Mya Taylor. Rival ad executive, leading scorer in my wet dreams and titanium ball buster extraordinaire. A. K. A. the hottest woman I’ve ever met.

And she hates me.

My cock stirs at the thought of her which should give me hope but instead is just maddening. With dawning horror I realize that my suspicions are true. The same thing happened last weekend. I couldn’t get him up when I was with Brittany but as soon as I went home and saw a work related email from Mya, instant party in my pants. Clearly it’s not that my rooster won’t crow, but he’s suddenly developed a preference. For women with the ability to derail my career and also make me feel completely inadequate at the same time.

For Mya.

Oh no, I think down at the offending appendage. You do not get to react to the thought of that she-devil.

Not that he listens to me. When it comes to thoughts of Mya Taylor, my cock rarely listens to me. He’s violated the no-imagining-Mya rule everywhere from my shower to my dreams at night. Apparently this traitor doesn’t care about my future, my career or my sanity.

The door to the bathroom rattles and then crashes open. As if thoughts of her have summoned her directly to the source, Mya fills the doorway. Her eyes widen slightly when she takes in my naked ass pressed against the bathroom counter and the scantily clad brunette who still has my limp Judas in her hand.

Except he’s not limp anymore.

As my eyes take her in, every synapse in my brain fires in delight. Mya’s parents are from the Bahamas and she has the whole “I’m a radiant and sun-kissed goddess every fucking day” thing going on. She tos

ses her long braid over her shoulder before glaring at me. It’s as thick as rope and jet black. The millions of bangles she always wears clack mockingly as she moves.

God damn the woman drives me insane.

But she also turns me on which is evidenced by the instant steel injection that takes me from limp noodle to solid baseball bat in less than 2.5 seconds.

“Look, it’s working!” Justine-Jasmine-Jessica squeals and punctuates the statement by bouncing up and down.

Mya looks between the D cups threatening to punch me in the face and my solid ten inches. Then she glances up at me.

“Seems I’m interrupting,” she murmurs. “Wouldn’t want to do that.”

Her words echo even after the door swings shut behind her. And my dick deflates like all the wind beneath his wings just followed her out of the room. Because that’s the way he’s been operating lately. He only gets hard for the one woman who wounds my ego as if it’s second nature. And takes pleasure in doing it.

I know she seems nice but don’t let the sweet smile fool you. She’s evil and no doubt already thinking up some way to use this situation against me.

Then the door swings open and Mya pokes her head back in. “Miss? I’m sorry to interrupt again. What’s your name?”

“Jessica,” the brunette squeaks timidly.

Mya inclines her head to the woman still holding my dick as formally as if they were meeting at a business conference. “I thought so. Your boss is looking for you. But I can stall him another few minutes or so.” Her lips curl up into a wicked grin as her eyes slide over to mine. “I’m sure it won’t take much longer than that.”

Then she lets the door close again leaving the two of us alone with my rapidly softening dick and a whole hell of a lot of awkwardness.

Do you see what I mean now?

Pure. Evil.

Despite the interruption, Jessica was still game to continue if you can believe that. But Mya’s parting words struck the final death blow to the dick engine that couldn’t. I stuffed him back in my jeans and vowed to get the hell out of there before I did something really stupid.

Well, more stupid than banging the bartender in the bathroom during a company sponsored Happy Hour.

I follow Jessica back out into the dark hallway and luckily we’re saved from any awkward post-not-quite-sex talk by the appearance of a big burly guy.