Page 27 of Left of the Slash
“Oh shit,” says Rob.
“Be more specific, man,” Marcus snips. “How am I supposed to know what scratching the damn itch means?”
“Choking,” I blurt out, glaring at Marcus before realizing a few too many people heard me. I glare at them—because, what the fuck are they looking at—then lower my voice and add, “My hands were close to her neck because, well … there's this side of me that likes that kind of shit. But I didn't know if she would be into it. I was just losing myself in the moment, my body was going with the flow. But then, she grabbed my hand and placed it on her throat. I was like, what the fuck? But then, she goes, ‘Do it,’ and I nearly lost my mind. I had to double check to make sure it wasn't a setup, and not only did she tell me to go for it, she literally showed me how to choke her. I guess I was pressing on her windpipe or something, and she told me exactly where to squeeze like she has been into it for much longer than me. So,what was I suppose to do except fucking do exactly the way she said to? She gave me this little invite into her world, and I did a swan dive into it. And that’s how she scratched the itch.”
“Oh, Miss Lucero is a freak,” Rob says.
“If she is, then so am I,” I reply, shrugging as I sip my cocktail. “Fuck it, we’ll be freaks together.”
“Uh-oh. Our boy is about to fall in love. You know those freaks end up having boys wrapped around their finger,” Marcus says, looking past me to joke with Rob.
I raise my hands. “Whoa, we’re not going there. In fact, the first thing she told me after it was over was that she wasn't looking for love. She said all she wanted from me was relief.”
“What?” Marcus nearly screams. “All she wants you for isrelief? How is it possible that you havethatmuch luck? So your CEO, who’s fine as shit, wants you to be her sex slave to relieve the stress of being a boss all day?”
“She doesn't want me to be her sex slave,” I reply, shaking my head. “In fact, I got the feeling that she wanted to be mine.”
“Oh my fucking god, that's even better,” Marcus blares, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “My dream date. Cute.”
Rob leans forward to add his two cents. “So this wasn't a one time thing? You're going to keep hooking up with her?”
“Of course I am.”
“Can you blame him?” Marcus says, the volume of his voice growing louder the more dumbfounded he becomes.
Rob shakes his head as his eyebrows raise. “Bro, do you even know how good you have it right now? You get to hook up with the CEO, you're probably in line for a promotion after the Jon fiasco, she wants you to choke her and god knows what else, and she doesn't even want to fall in love or complicate the situation. Just go over, give her what she wants, get what you want, then leave with no questions asked.”
“He's living the dream,” Marcus chimes in.
“Like a motherfucker,” I reply with a bar-wide smile.
“Alright, it’s time for a toast,” Rob says before turning to the bartender. “Excuse me. I need three shots of Crown Apple, please. We’re celebrating over here.”
The man behind the bar grabs three shot glasses and fills them with the dark liquid before handing them over. Rob puts it on his tab, then angles his body toward Marcus and me.
“Here we go. Raise those glasses,” he says. Marcus and I follow his lead. “This is for our boy, Q. Here’s to breaking the law, solving crimes, earning promotions, great sex with the baddie CEO, and no fucking strings attached. To living the dream!”
Marcus and I shout without regard to anybody around us. “To living the dream!”
We knock our shots back and let them burn all the way down, and I don't even try to wipe the smile from my face. My boys are right. This is what every unmarried man wants—a steamy situationship that’s one hundred percent sex and zero percent drama. It’s perfect.
What more could I possibly ask for?
SEVENTEEN - Quinn
“Hey.”
I look up from my computer and find Olivia standing in my doorway holding a stack of red folders against her chest. Her hair is pulled into a curly ponytail, and the cleavage on display via her white button-up top is so distracting I have to force myself to look somewhere else. Nobody wants to be the guy getting caught staring at cleavage, but fuck. She's draped in all-white today—a little devil wearing an angel costume—and it looks so good on her. I even find myself glancing down at my own white pants and beige Polo shirt from Alessandro Veneti to see if I measure up. I smirk as a thought enters my mind. Yeah, we look good together.
“Hey,” I answer with a smile, because I've been thinking about the last time I was in her office since the moment I left it. “How you doin’?”
“Fine,” Olivia says as she steps into the room like she's in a rush and certainly in no mood for small talk. “I need you to look all of these over and provide me with a summation report in the morning.”
She drops all of the red folders on my desk with a loudsmack, then turns on her heel like she is going to walk out without looking back. I quickly glance at the folders then speak up.
“Hold on,” I say with a furrowed bro. I know we said we’d keep it light and never involve our emotions, but damn. This isn't exactly how I expected our first day to start after I just made her come. “What is all this?”
Olivia stops at the threshold, and when she turns around, I can see that she's already in the middle of rolling her eyes. She clearly wasn't lying when she said she wasn't interested in love, because I feel like simply asking a question is already annoying her to the core.
