Page 23 of A Dangerous Game
Duke’s getting out of his car, and I can’t help but look him over. He’s a delicious fucking man who’s tall and has a big dick. We fuck a lot for video but we’ve never actually had sex without a camera in our faces. Duke is about six feet and he looks Middle- Eastern. I think he said something about him being a first generation here or something. His parents don’t agree with his job choice, but they are accepting of it as they can be.
Mine stopped talking to me.
“Hey, baby. How are you?” Duke asks as he saddles himself up with me and puts his arm around my shoulder.
I wrap my arm around his waist and squeeze. We walk like this into the studio. “Oh you know, taking the kids to school and all of that fun stuff.”
He kisses my cheek as we get into the doors, “One of these days, are you going to let me take you out?”
He’s always asking this and I always answer the same way. “You already got into my pants, it’s not as if you need to buy me dinner.” I wink at him and then strut off to my dressing room.
CALEB
Being a lawyer is actually more boring than I thought. Maybe I should have done something more entertaining… like be a pilot. No, I’m holed up in my office trying to get briefs together for court.
I’m a fourth generation family law attorney at Bilson McAdams Bilson (BMB for short) and I specialize in custody disputes. I’m that asshole that rips kids away and places them with different people. Yes, I do have a soul, it’s just not very deep.
I hate my job but I spent too much money in school to do anything else but this. At least I make decent money. Not as much money as my best bud, Duke, does. He’s a porn star and loves his job. Isn’t that funny? The lawyer and the porn star as friends. Hey, it works and we take care of each other.
“Mr. Bilson, your two o’clock is here,” Janet announces and I look out my window to see a slutty woman dressed as if she’s about to hit a strip club.
After racking my brain, I can’t remember having a meeting with someone at this time. “What is this regarding?” I ask and flip through my book.
“She’s here to discuss the custody of her children. Your dad set it up.”
Of course he did. “Send her in.”
I arrange my desk so it is decently organized and set the alarm on my computer to make my phone ring in ten minutes. I button up my suit coat and pop a mint in my mouth. Smelling like the coffee I just chugged isn’t good for business.
The woman walks into my office wearing a tight dress and her tits hanging out. Her hair is horribly dyed (I know this because my sister is a hair stylist and she would flip out) and its long. There’s not one thing appealing about this woman, but she deserves to be helped.
Or so they say.
“Hello, I’m Caleb Bilson. What’s your name?” I hold my hand out and she completely ignores it. I’m shocked as hell as she leans in and gives me a kiss on my cheek.
“I’m Charlotte Bright. I’m here to discuss the custody of my twin daughters.”
She doesn’t let me go and I awkwardly move her hands so they are off of my shoulders. “Yes, please take a seat.”
Unlike most women who wear dresses or short skirts and cross their ankles, her knees are about a foot apart. Gross. I’m not proud of it, but I could see up her skirt and the lack of underwear that she’s wearing is making me want to gag.
I’m sick and fucking tired of these women with no morals or standards. I would want a woman who doesn’t act like a slut and will be someone that I can settle down with. Clearly, this is not the woman and I want to kick her out of my office.
“What can I do for you, Charlotte?” It’s a loaded question but I’m actually being a professional right now. I want nothing to do with this woman.
Charlotte shakes out her tight as sin top and then pouts. “My twin daughters have been given to their father’s sister. She’s a fucking whore.”
Wow, that’s blunt.
“What makes you say that? First, shall we discuss my fees?”
Right at the end of my sentence, she gets up and starts doing what is supposed to be a sexy dance. There was nothing sexy about it. “What the hell are you doing?” I demand and push my chair into its holder with me on it.
“Working on your fees,” she says simply almost as if I’m some dumb ass that doesn’t understand something so simple.
I shake my head and swallow the burning bile down. “No. That’s not how I do business. I think we are done here.”
She starts to argue but I shake my head and point towards the door. With frustration, she stomps out of my office and slams the door. Right when I hear her yell: “You asshole!” I notice that she left a folder on my desk.
