I’m her dream guy.

How is that possible?

I spent four years laughing at Phoebe Pink because that’s what everyone did. That whole time, she somehow found it in herself to look at me with love instead of hate. Ten years later and that hasn’t changed.

But I have.

Now, I look back at those years and I pity myself. That kid was a loser. That kid never looked twice at the girl who looked a thousand times at him. Would it have killed me to smile at her just once?

Still, I’m her dream guy.

I won’t make the same mistakes again.

“Max!”

I look across the table at my father. “Oh… uh,” I murmur at the papers in front of me as I avoid the eyes of our colleagues scattered around. “No.”

“No?” he repeats.

“Argento is looking at life in prison,” I say. “He’s also extremely competent and no jury will ever buy an insanity plea. He’s done.”

My father sits up with a look of disappointment on his face. Obviously, this was not the assessment he wanted. He wants plea bargains and deals and, most likely, he wants dirt on the witnesses. Intimidation 101. He wants me to fight tooth and nail to put this guy back on the streets so he can shower in the publicity. Bad press is still press and Keith Monahan thrives in it. As does his checkbook.

“I guess that’s it for today, gentlemen,” he says to the room. “Let’s pick this up tomorrow.”

We all rise from our chairs and I move fast to make it to the hallway before he does.

“Max.”

I pretend I didn’t hear it. Won’t last, of course, but at least I tried.

He catches up to me, feet stomping on the carpet. “I’m getting a little tired of you embarrassing me, Max,” he seethes in my ear.

“I’m not trying to embarrass you, Dad. You asked for my opinion. I gave it.”

He stops me and I turn to face him, catching sight of David lingering behind him to listen in. “That wasn’t an opinion. That was garbage.”

“If my opinion is garbage then why do you even keep me around?” I spit.

My pulse slows for a moment, only to instantly kick-start again. A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have said something like that. Not to his face. Judging by his look of angry shock right now, he’s just as surprised.

“Is that what you want?” he asks. “You want me to go through the humiliation of canning my only son?”

I blink. “It’s actually amazing to me how you can make my life all about you.”

“You listen to me, Max…” He takes a step closer. “Your life isn’t about you. Your life is just one part of a legacy, one that I fully expect you to respect and carry on. Do I make that clear?”

“Mr. Monahan—” Erica waves in my direction. “You’ve got a call on line two. It’s Thad.”

My father scoffs. “And grow up. Stop hanging out with your loser high school buddies.”

I ignore him. “I’ll take it in my office, Erica. Thank you.”

He points at her. “No, he won’t. Max, we’re not done talking.”

“About what exactly?” I ask. “This ridiculous idea of our family’s legacy that you’ve shoved down my throat since birth?”

Erica waves at me again. “Mr. Monahan, you have another call on one from a Ms. Pink. She says she’s your girlfriend.”

I deflate, closing my eyes as David’s go wide.

Dad shakes his head. “Girlfriend? Since when do you have a girlfriend?”

I ignore David’s growing smirk. “I don’t live on the clock, Dad.”

“Well, you should,” he snaps. “If you think I stopped what I was doing every time your mother cried out for attention, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“Oh, I know, Dad. I remember. I was actually there.”

He frowns. “Don’t pretend like you know what it takes to support a family, kid.”

“So, which exactly do you want me to do, then? Work for you twenty-four hours a day or start a family to continue your legacy? Either way, it’d be nice to know when my life actually becomes mine.” I look to Erica again. “I’ll take her call first. Send it over now.”

Dad grits his teeth. “Max…”

“I’m on a break.”

I close the door behind me, exhaling the frustration from my system as I stomp toward the ringing phone. If I could, I’d smash something. There are a few fine candidates on the path to my desk, like this lamp or that coffee mug, but I’m in no mood to pick up after myself either.

I sit back and grab the phone, hoping a little exposure to Phoebe’s voice calms me down.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“About damn time.”

Her voice spikes with breathy pleasure.

“Sorry…” I pause, listening closer to the light sounds of movement behind sharp moans in her throat. “It’s been a busy day.”

“Got a little time for a distraction?”

She giggles with delight as my cock twitches in my briefs. The sound is undeniable and so utterly recognizable at this point.

She’s getting fucked.

“Phoebe…” I smile. “What’s he doing to you?”

Her voice fades a little. “He wants to know what you’re doing to me,” she says.

The phone shuffles hands.

Thad chuckles. “Oh, I’m just getting a little payback for last night,” he says, grunting between words.

I lean back and laugh as I reach for my zipper. “When did you get back?”

“About an hour ago.”

“And she went along with it?”

“I didn’t give her much choice,” he says. “Isn’t that right, milady?”

She yelps as his palm connects with her skin, the sound echoing through the phone and firing blood toward my groin.

“I called her home… bent her over… and now she’s moaning on my dick,” Thad says. “Payback, motherfucker.”

I wrap my fingers around my hard shaft and stroke. “Put her back on.”

The phone passes hands again.

“Max?”

I smile at the moans on her lips. “Having fun?”

“Hope you don’t mind.” She laughs.

“I don’t.” I stroke myself faster. “Tell me where you are.”

“Our bed.”

I bite my lip, loving the way she said our. “My side or his?”

“Yours. He made us use yours.” She whimpers. “Oh, god…”

My tip moistens. I squeeze myself tighter. “Tell him to spank you again,” I say, holding my groans in the back of my throat.

“He wants you to spank me again.”

The slap echoes loudly and she cries out in delicious pain.

“Good girl,” I say. “Are you going to come for him?”

“Yes.”

I move my fist faster to catch up as she lets out a painful grunt and Thad laughs.

“What did he do?” I ask.

She breathes harder. “He’s pulling my hair back…”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” she sighs, “but I like it.”

I balance the phone between my ear and shoulder while I reach into my desk drawer for a packet of tissues shoved in the back. “You like what he does to you?” I ask, near the edge.

“Yes.”

“Do you like hearing my voice while he’s fucking you?”

“Yes!”

“When you come for him… say my name.”

Phoebe moans with her mouth pressed against the phone. The sound distorts but the sheer intensity of it pushes me over.

“Max!” she shouts. “Oh, fuck me. Max! Oh, god…”

I point my tip at the tissue, catching my cum as it shoots out. We come together and I groan softly, hoping it’s not loud enough to give the secretaries some gossip.

Thad grunts, likely climaxing along with us. I imagine him pulling out and marking her dripping pussy with his stream, letting it coat her slit and round ass cheeks. It nearly makes me hard again just thinking about it but I don’t exactly have all day to sit around my office and jerk off.

“Give me that,” Thad barks.

“Bye, Max,” Phoebe says, sweet as honey. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” I tell her. “I’ll see you tonight.”

She gives up the phone and Thad growls at me.

“What the hell, dude? You made her call out your name? I did all the work!”

I smirk. “That’s what you get for trying to fuck with me.”

“Dammit.”

I stuff my flaccid cock back into my briefs. “You sticking around?”

He exhales, spent and satisfied. “Yeah. I’m off ‘til the weekend.”

“Cool. I should be done here around six. Keep her warm until I get there.”

“Oh, I will.”

He obviously spanks her again and she chuckles in the background.

“Hey, Max, hold on a second…”

“Holding…” I say.

I hear him move and a door closes.

“About tonight,” he says. “I want to do something nice for Phoebe.”

“Like what?”

“Fancy dinner? A quiet night here afterward with massages and champagne?” he suggests. “Try and chill her out a bit before tomorrow.”

I nod. “You noticed, too, eh?”

“Yeah. She’s stressed and I don’t like it. A relaxed Pheebs is a happy Pheebs.”

“I agree.” I sit up in my chair. “I should be able to get us a table at Kitano’s. Doesn’t get fancier than that.”

“Perfect. She’ll love that.”

“For the lady,” I say.

“For the lady,” he repeats.

We hang up. I zip my pants, pausing a moment to tuck in my shirt, before walking across my office to the door.

“Hey, Erica,” I say, sticking my head out.

“Yes, sir?” she asks, glancing up at me.

I pause as I make eye contact with Sally Sweet. She slows her pace as she passes by, her lips curling, but I give her no attention other than that. Knowing her, she’s probably raging on the inside. Not that I care, obviously.

I lower my voice. “Give Yoko a call for me, would you?” I ask Erica. “See if I can get a table for three at eight.”

“For three?”

“Yeah, three.”

She nods and reaches for the phone. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks.”

I turn to glance over my shoulder as Sally disappears behind David’s door.