mermaidav: Miss me with your low-balling. I’m not getting out of bed for less than 1K.
Images flash before my eyes. My mind conjures dark sheets twisted around a soft body. I have no idea what she looks like, but my brain conjures smooth, bare legs and an oversized band shirt. Is she tall? Short? Pale? Tan? Thick, like I like? I don’t care ultimately—it’s her mind and personality I’m attracted to—but I’m still burning to know.
And I desperately want to ask what she wears to bed. I bet I’m right about the band shirt.
SpyderMan: Who said you had to get out of bed?
mermaidav: I can think of much more pleasurable things to do here than data mine.
My blood surges in my ears, a mixture of anticipation and sudden, intense arousal. Is she like so many women, with a bedside table in easy reach, stocked with naughty toys? Fuck, I hope so.
Don’t go there, Wesley.
It’s not about the money—I’ve got more than enough that the difference she wants is a drop in the ocean—and part of me would give her whatever she wanted or asked for. But it’s about respect, and a well-established power dynamic.Imake the rules. I don’t let anyone dictate terms to me, and I know for a fact that my offer is more than fair. And for her, she needs the money, but that’s not why she pushes back. She delights in getting a rise out of people—me—and eliciting reactions from an unaffected distance.
Such a fucking brat.
The back and forth is stirring my blood. It’s a special kind of rush, and I know she gets off on it, too. My heart pounds hard in my chest, and my cock is starting to feel the results of that increased circulation. My extremities are tingling, muscles filling with an antsy need to move. I clench my hands a few times, watching the veins pop beneath the ink before I reply.
SpyderMan: Your prerogative, as always.
mermaidav: You are so lucky I’m bored. I hope you realize you just created a situation in which I have no motivation to give you anything before my time is up. You’ll have what you want in 23 hours and 59 minutes,Sir.
The winking face she sends after brings a dark smile to my lips.
I’m not sure what I like better about her response—her flippancy or the transparency about it. As always, the confidence is fucking hot, and the bratty tone of her malicious compliance is right up my street.
She logs off, and I’m left ignoring the return of the empty feeling in my chest that always seems to disappear when I talk to her.
3
Madison
Good thing I’m totally comfortable with shades of morally gray.
“Yeah, of course, sir. I can have that in your inbox by EOD. Of course. Not a problem. Yes, I’ll do it myself—gotta make sure it’s done right, right, ya know? Heh, heh. Listen, not sure if you’re back this weekend, but I’ve got a 10 AM tee time, and I thought we—”
I blow out a breath and check my watch as my boss—and I use that term in the loosest sense—Fred cuts himself short and lets the receiver fall from his ear. His chair creaks as he leans forward to hang it up, the movement causing a concerning amount of strain on the single button holding his suit jacket together.
He clears his throat. “That was Craig. Pinsley, obviously. He’s at the Safer Cities Through Tech conference. Had to run to lunch with Congressman Adams.”
I nod like I bought his attempt to save face, even though we all know what it sounds like when someone hangs up on you halfway through your sentence. But I don’t care that Fred’s attempt at kissing his boss’s ass fell flat, just like I don’t really care about the man who’s been signing my checks, or the award he’s receiving for a bleeding edge cybersecurity prototype AI.
Well, I kind of care about that last one, since this company’s products protect me, too. And as a gal with plenty to hide, I love redundant safety measures.
“Right. I read about that in the email blast.”
“Yup,” he mumbles distractedly as he jiggles the mouse to wake his screen back up.
I’ve only been in here for 15 minutes, but when he hasn’t been taking a call in the middle of our meeting, he’s had one of those watery blue eyes glued to ourwork chat. And, I mean, I know he’s got a big job at this company as the project lead for that cybersecurity prototype they’re so sure is going to launch them into the Fortune 100—infuriatingly dubbedSafe-T Keeper—but… come on, man. It’s supposed to bemyone-on-one.
I can really feel the employee appreciation in the air.
I sigh, loud enough for him to hear, which draws his attention back to me. Instead of any sort of apologetic look or acknowledgment of his disrespect, he looks at me with censure. LikeI’mthe one being rude by expecting his full consideration in the meeting he invited me to.
No one thinks Fred Harvey is more important than Fred Harvey.
Men are theworst.
