Chapter Seven

Noah

Sitting at my desk, the files are open all over it. I tap the desk when I hear the sound of Austin’s ringtone.

“Yeah,” I say after finding it under a file that’s now littered all over the floor. “Shit.”

“What the fuck was that text you sent me?” he asks, making me wonder what he’s talking about.

I take the phone from my ear, turning the speaker on while I go through my text messages. There it is, the text I sent this morning.

What should I cook for someone who eats cock?

I laugh at the vagueness of it. “I think the question is pretty spot-on. I have a date tonight. When I asked her what she likes to eat she said cock. Obviously I’ve got enough cock to feed her, but should I put out an appetizer before the cock dish?” I smile, putting my feet on my desk.

“Where do you find these girls?” he asks, sighing loudly.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Swollen Nuts?” I laugh at him. “So what do you think I should put out? Should it be something that could be eaten off my dick?” I tap my chin with my finger, thinking.

“Like what, a fucking sushi roll? Buy the wrap and wrap your dick. You know other people actually have bigger problems.”

“Oh, shit, did Lauren fuck you up like Donkey Kong?” I sit up, wondering how much more he can take before he snaps.

“No, we called a truce. It’s all good,” he whispers now. “So seriously, where do you meet these girls?”

“It’s for me to know and you to find out. So whipped cream? Chocolate? What do you think?”

“I have to go,” he says, hanging up the phone.

I toss it back on my desk and pick up the papers that have fallen on the floor. When I finally have them in order I get up, walking to my assistant’s desk.

“Alfred, can you order me a platter of fruit, with chocolate and whipped cream? I’ll swing by and pick them up at six.” I watch him write it on the paper, his hand shaking. “Oh, and you can have tomorrow off. I’m in court all day.” I walk toward HR where I knock on Cassandra’s door before walking in.

“Hey, I’m not interrupting you, am I?” I ask her, pretending I care. I don’t. I sit down in the chair in front of her desk.

“What can I do for you, Noah?” she asks, leaning forward on her desk.

“I need a new assistant,” I say while she rolls her eyes. “I’m serious, Cassie, he just took a message I think Mickey Mouse called, because I can’t read it. It looks like chicken feet.”

She leans back, picks up the stack of papers in front of her, and taps it on the desk. “Noah, we have gone over this. You can’t be trusted with female assistants. You slept with the last four out of five.”

I laugh at her. “Actually, it was five out of five, but who is counting? And I didn’t sleep with them here.”

Her eyebrows shoot up.

“Okay, fine, I didn’t sleep with them all here, while we were working, she was punched out.”

“Noah, it was noon. And her husband came to have lunch with her.”

I shake my head, thinking about it. “It wasn’t my fault he showed up unannounced and she told me they were separated. She cried on my shoulder. What was I supposed to do?” I ask her. I make it a rule to not fuck with anyone who’s married. I honestly thought she was getting divorced. She told me for a month that she was feeling down about the separation. “She lied to me and broke my trust also.” I put my hand to my heart. “Now how am I to trust anyone else who tells me they’re getting divorced? Should I ask for the filed papers? Should I look them up while in the bathroom?”

“This is serious, Noah. She could have come back and sued you. If you want, I can give you Norma. Leonard is going on vacation for a month. You can have her.”

I throw my head back and blow out a huge breath. “Okay, fine, but can we start looking for a replacement? Someone who can take notes fast and be on the balls.”

Her eyes go big.

“I meant ball. Sorry, on the ball.”

“One more chance, Noah. After this I will no longer take your call or even answer your emails. Now go.”

I slap my hands together in celebration.

“Don’t make me regret it!”

She eyes me up and down as I get up.

“See, I didn’t even try to check out the color of the bra you’re wearing today. How is that for turning a new leaf?” I smile at her like a kid in kindergarten who just found out how to color inside the line. “See”—I point to myself—“I can do this.” I salute her walking out the door, closing it behind me.

The next thing I do is go online. It’s amazing how much shit comes out when you type what to eat with a side of dick. Some of those pictures have permanently scarred me.

By the time five-thirty rolls up, I close everything down for the night. Walking out, I ask Alfred, “What name is the fruit under?”

He peers up from his newspaper; I shake my head, thinking do they still print newspapers? “Name for what fruit?” His bushy eyebrows fold together.

“The fruit I asked you to order me for tonight?”

He shakes his head, taking off his glasses. “I must have forgotten to order them.” He goes to pick up the phone, then looks up at me. “What did you want again?”

My jaw seals shut. “Nothing, absolutely nothing. I’m going to go now.” I nod down to him. “Have a great night.”

I walk away while he tells me the same. Dialing Austin, he answers after one ring.

“What do you want? Did you get your dick stuck in seaweed?” He laughs by himself.

“Very funny.” I unlock the car, getting in. “Is Lauren still at the office?” I ask, starting the car while he is transferred to Bluetooth.

“Why the fuck would you ask me that?” he hisses out. “Is she the one you are feeding your dick to tonight?” The vein in his head must be ready to pop. “I swear to fucking Christ, you touch her and I’ll cut off your fucking dick. I will make sure they won’t even be able to attach it. I swear to fuck,” he continues.

“Are you foaming at the mouth yet?” I ask him, smiling to myself. “You think I’d sleep with someone I know has you tied up in knots? I mean, honestly, how many times have you rubbed one off with Lauren’s face?” I pull into a supermarket, hoping they have fucking platters and shit.

“I just don’t want you to fuck my assistant and then she quits on me.” He blows out a relieved breath. “And to answer your other question, what about Becca Sullivan, seventh grade? You knew I was going to ask her out, and I found you guys making out in the closet.”

“That was a mistake.” I stop the car. “I didn’t actually think she’d suck my dick if I guessed her favorite number. Which, by the way, who chooses one as their favorite number?”

“Fuck you,” he says. “What did you call for?”

“Where can I get fruit already cut up? With chocolate and whipped cream?”

“Edible Arrangements have those basket thingies that you can buy and they look like flowers and stuff.”

I hit the steering wheel. “You’re a genius. I gotta go find the closest one to me,” I say, hanging up. I press the button for Siri to come on. Once she gives me the closest address, I make it there right before they are about to close.

Walking in, I head to the counter.

“Hello, how may I help you?” the woman who is named Tracy asks me.

“I’m looking for cut up fruit.” I start out, checking out the different arrangements. “Like that one.” I point to the biggest bouquet they have, with pineapple, cantaloupe, melon dew and most of all chocolate covered strawberries. “I’m going to take three like that, and do you have just chocolate covered strawberries in one basket?”

“You want three baskets?” she asks me, writing down the order. “And we have boxes of the strawberries in the fridge over there.” She points to the fridge behind me. “Your total will be five hundred and seventy three.”

“For fruit?” I ask. “It’s fruit.”

“Yes, but it’s cut up into a beautiful flower and shapes.” She smiles at me, shaking her head.

“What if I just want it cut up, is that cheaper?” I ask, smiling at her.

“Sir, if price is an issue, perhaps you would like to downsize and get a more affordable basket.”

I grab my wallet out of my jacket pocket. “That’s fine,” I say, pulling out my card. “How long will it take?”

“It should be ready in fifteen minutes,” she says, going back into what I’m sure is the fruit dungeon.

I pull my phone out, seeing a text from Kaleigh.

We still on for tonight?

I smile as I answer her back.

You want me to serve my favorite dish, damn straight we are still on for tonight.

Perfect, she answers right away.

I should be home in about thirty minutes, so why don’t you come by in an hour? Oh, and come with an appetite.

Oh, I plan on it. I’m famished.

My cock springs up to a semi attention, thinking about her lips on me.

“Here you go, sir,” Tracy says, coming out with a bouquet that is so big I can’t see her face.

“Holy shit,” I say, taking it in. “Did you put all three in one?” I ask, grabbing it from her while she laughs.

“No. The other two are coming right up.” She turns to go into the back. “Would you like to come back in and get the other two?” She points to the door.

I walk out, putting the basket in the back of the car, but it doesn’t fit on the floor.

“No wonder it cost the price of a small island. I took all their fruit,” I say as I set it on the backseat, placing the seat belt around it. The thought of me having to brake suddenly and then the fruit flying everywhere is much more than I care to clean up. By the time I pull out of the parking lot, I have three baskets all buckled up in the back. “Thank fuck I didn’t buy a two-seater,” I say to myself while I make my way home. It takes four trips to get everything into the house. “Fuck, the bag.” I smack my head, thinking about the bag of chocolate sauce and whipped cream I picked up on the way home.

I walk into the living room. It’s a total bachelor pad. The walls are painted white, with the big brown leather couches dressing up the room. A huge screen television is hanging on the wall right above the fireplace that I had installed after I bought the place. I place it on the table in the living room. “This looks like a place to serve dick, right?” I talk to the walls. I move the couches away from each other. I slap my hand and run to the closet in my office, grabbing a big black bag. “I knew there was a reason I bought this,” I tell myself. Walking back into the living room, I make space in front of the fireplace where I take out a white fur rug. “Oh, yeah, I’d serve cock on this thing,” I say, walking into the kitchen to the cupboard where I have the sex candles stored.

I’m a guy. I don’t need candles in my house, at any time. So I take them out when I’m having sex. I have no idea why women love this shit, but I’m not one to ask questions.

I place the candles strategically around the room, then close the shades around the house. “No reason to give my neighbors another view of my dick,” I say, checking my watch. Twenty minutes to spare.

I run upstairs, undressing and throwing my shit in the laundry basket in my walk-in closet. I fix my bed in my room, just in case we end up in here. The room is in a light gray, making the dark royal blue covers pop, or at least that is what my decorator said when she handed me the bill. She fucked me that day, figuratively. The dark brown oak bed frame is almost fit for a king. I smile at myself. Fuck that, I am a king.

Walking into my white marble bathroom, I turn the knob on the shower that is always set on the same temperature. The rain shower starts right away. I wash and make sure the cock is well groomed. I run my hand through my hair as soon as I walk out of the shower and towel dry myself off.

I grab my satin purple robe that’s hanging behind the door. “No reason to dress up more than I need to be.”

Making my way downstairs, I see she should be here any minute, so I light all the candles. Now everything fucking glows. I’m about to pick up the remote to put on some music when I hear the doorbell ring. I smile to myself, opening my robe and looking down at my dick. “Show time, buddy.” I cup myself while I tie the sash again.

Opening the door, I take her in. Fuck, she’s beautiful. She has nothing on her face, except lip gloss. No fake eyelashes, no caked on makeup, nothing but her natural glow. Her blue eyes shine bright.

“I didn’t know I was having dinner with Hugh Hefner,” she jokes as she steps in, her blue sundress swaying around her legs. “Had I known, I might have put my bunny outfit on!” She leans in and kisses my cheek. Natural, effortless, perfect. The scent of citrus hits me. I wrap my hand around her waist, bringing her closer to me, chest to chest. “Next time I expect nothing less,” I tell her right before I bend to kiss her lips.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says while I release my hold on her and reach out to hold her hand as I close the door. It’s a simple thing I’ve done a million times before, but it’s like I have this electric current that has just run through me.

“I brought wine,” she says, grabbing her bag and pulling out a bottle of white wine. “I mean, I went with fruity. I could have asked the girl what she recommended to go with dick, but”—she shrugs her shoulders—“I winged it.”

“Fuck me,” slips out of me. “I think I’m in love.”

She throws her head back and laughs, her lean neck bare, nothing stopping me from leaning in and marking it.