Page 50 of The Bad Girl
Oh fuck yeah!
Maxwell:I want to hear you come.
My phone lights up; it’s Maxwell calling.
Uh-oh…
My chest tightens, and to my horror, my passion surges at the thought of coming for Maxwell.
It’s Tom you want. Tom and all his tattoos, riding on that motorcycle, not giving two fucks to the world.
After what seems to take forever, my phone stops buzzing, and I’m left confused because I don’t know what I want. Of course, I want Tom, or at least I should, but for some reason, it’s not him I’m craving.
It’s Maxwell.
I receive a text, and my heart drops straight to my feet.
Maxwell:I’m sorry if things got a little carried away. I thought it was what you wanted.
Nadine:It’s fine, I’m just not good at this.
Maxwell:I would say you were doing rather well.
Nadine:Thank you. It’s really going to be awkward tomorrow.
Maxwell:Only if you want it to be. This shouldn’t embarrass you. Consider it a lesson with a friend.
Nadine:Thanks.
Maxwell:Rest well, Nadine.
?
Maxwell
The clock reads 11:40, and I’m not any closer to sleep than I was two hours ago, after sexting with Nadine.
It’s been years since I’ve last sexted. With a Little Black Book like mine, there’s always some lovely lady a short distance away that will jump at another opportunity to visit my penthouse. Nadine’s text came out of nowhere. Initially, I thought they were actually for me, and I was one part elated, one part conflicted, but when she assured me that it was to sharpen her skills, I couldn’t think of a good reason not to go through with it. Or rather, I didn’t want to.
No, that’s not right. She wanted you—you know it.
And now, I’m going back over the texts, reliving the sensations imprinted on me. The short conversation with Nadine was better than any of my recent sexual encounters, partially because of the taboo aspect of screwing an employee, but also, there’s more to this.
It didn’t start with the sexting, or even the strip club. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head for days. I went so far as to make some bullshit excuse not to be at the office all day, just so I didn’t have to see her.
It makes no sense, as I’m afforded the luxury of beautiful women vying to get my attention. I’ve never thought this hard on a woman, why her?
It’s not that Nadine isn’t pretty to look at, that was never a question. But now, she’s my every waking thought. I want to write poems about the curve of her hip, breathe in her flowery scent, trace the lines of her Cupid’s bow lips. At this late hour, it feels like she is everything to me, but the reality is, all I am to her is a teacher. Someone she’s using to get her to the person she really wants—Tom.
Or, perhaps it’s you she wants.
It matters not as I won’t have to see her much longer. I’ll bring her boating tomorrow, and I’ll get to see her in the tiny bikinis I have picked out for her. It’s a business excursion, so it won’t go anywhere. Then, next week, we’ll meet for lunch, and I’ll lay out my plans for her. She’ll be thankful, accepting the position and the significant pay bump. Maybe she’ll hug me, pressing her round tits against my chest.
Fuck!
I know I should push all thoughts of her as far from my brain as possible, but my cock doesn’t agree with me, and if I don’t take matters into my own hand, chances are I’ll not be getting much sleep tonight.
I grab my member, pulling up the pictures of Nadine in her pink lace bra and panty set. I close my eyes and picture her legs opening for me, inviting me in. I’m pressing against her, my hand a poor replica to her perfection, and a dozen strokes later, I release with a whimper.
After cleaning up, I roll onto my side, pulling the blanket up over my head, trying to take my mind as far away from Ms. Nadine Winters as I possibly can.
But as soon as I close my eyes, it’s her smile that greets me, and I know I’m in big trouble.
