ONE
Wasted My Time
I could have been at a lunch with my girls, sipping cocktails and eating steak that cost more than this sad hotel room. Instead, I was flat on my back beneath a man who was struggling harder than my Wi-Fi when I visited Fiji. Pedro squinted, brows high as if sheer focus might fix anything. His dick was clearly broken.
It wasn't me!
Staring at the ceiling, I wondered if the water damage above us was shaped like Spain or if it was only my patience cracking in real time. Fed up, I rolled my eyes and shoved him off me.
I had better things to do.
"Listen, man, I don't have all day. You've had more than enough time to impress me. Get your ass some Viagra or something."
"Wait, just give me a few more minutes," he begged.
"Minutes?" I asked, unsure I'd heard him right. "Time is money. Do you know how much a minute is worth?"
Pedro sat in bed with a confused expression. Of course, he didn't.
As I put my arm through my shirt, I explained, "Do you know what the average person in my field makes? One thousand twohundred one dollars and ninety-two cents an hour. Instead of earning that, I've wasted my time with you, only to be sent away without what you promised."
Money down the fucking drain.
"And now you want another damn minute? I could earn twenty dollars and three fucking cents in that time, but you expect me to stay here letting it pass with you? I don't have another damn one to waste. Your limp dick isn't worth my time," I said, then reached for my pants.
Pedro's cock must have loved a good scolding because suddenly that thick, once-useless bulge was hard and tempting. I bit my lip and grinned. It was clearly ready for action. Once I ran the numbers again, I had to admit I could afford it.
Shit, I was a damn heiress at the end of the day. Fuck it!
Now that he was finally hard enough to be of some use, I slid down on his cock, pressed my palms flat against his chest to keep Pedro exactly where I wanted, and began to fuck the living daylights out of him.
"Damn," he said in a strangled voice, while I sought an orgasm without apology or theatrics. I wanted to come right now, and this thick dick owed me a good ride. Pedro tried to caress me as I drove up and down, but I grabbed his wrists, pinned them to the mattress, and took what I wanted. This shouldn't have come as a surprise. I was always in charge in every aspect of my life. Why did I think I could lie here and depend on a man? With Pedro panting and praising me underneath, I set the rhythm and pace. If anyone was going to make the lunch worth remembering, it was never going to be a man.
As soon as we both came, I was back on my feet. "You made up for wasting part of my lunch break. I might let you have some more pussy another time."
In record time, I scrambled to get dressed, snatching my underwear from the ground and yanking it and my pants on. While I tugged my blouse over my head, I scanned the room for my shoes and spotted them next to my purse and phone.
I figured a broke part-time server-slash-wannabe author hadn't eaten, so out of pity I tossed him a few bucks. When I dropped it on the bed near him, Pedro's face tightened with a painful expression that left me confused. "What?"
"You act like I'm a sex worker."
"Trust me, with your little problem, you couldn't make that a full-time occupation either."
Clearly offended, he asked, "What does that mean?"
"Forget it. I've wasted enough time," I said, then headed toward the hotel door. "Eat or don't, makes no difference to me."
I refused to give him another second.
With that, I slammed the door and hurried through the hall to the elevator. When I arrived at the lobby, I opened my phone, then the Amoré Nights dating app. I found Pedro's profile and blocked him. Something about the way he spoke earlier didn't sit right with me. There he was, broke and living with six roommates, with an unreliable dick, no matter how thick it was, and yet he acted wounded when I was charitable enough to help him get a meal. I didn't fuck stupid men. In fact, even if it was just about sex, I wasn't the Red Cross. I needed my developers to update the app so women could filter for men in their preferred price range. Mine had to be above six figures.
Yes, that was what I planned to do once I reached the office, and I needed to get there quickly.
Once I walked out a hotel revolving door, the wind slapped my face, bringing me back into focus. Pedro was done, blocked, forgotten. I had bigger things to do, like launch an empire.
My jaw tightened as snowflakes landed on my black hair. They dusted my designer suede coat, and I glared up at thesky. This wasn't in the forecast. Not according to that damn weatherman, who I'd watched this morning before taking out my curling iron. This should have come as no surprise to me.
He was a man, after all.
