Rex

After satisfying our deepest carnal desires for two and a half days straight, we check into the Luxe. It’s the closest hotel to the convention center and it’s a pretty cool place to stay. Today has been a good test to see if we could spend eight hours together without getting naked. I’m proud to say that we failed to achieve mile-high status on the way here.

Even though this week has been a bit of a sex-fest, it’s also been fairly productive. After posting Felicia’s experience with the RH Signature dildo combined with the Demonizer on the main website, we sold one hundred and twenty-nine combo sets in the first twenty-four hours. We were so inspired that we finished the piece on the magic wand and two other dildos that we experimented with. I couldn’t get her to try any of the double penetration ones though. She insists that I have to try that damn prostate massager before she tries any of those, which isn’t going to happen anytime soon. I’ve always been a little afraid of messing around with my prostate. That little thing can cause a guy lots of misery if it starts acting up.

“This hotel is gorgeous.” She checks out both the bar and the restaurant as we pass through the lobby to the elevator. “I wasn’t expecting it to be so nice.”

“Yeah, it’s a four-star. But it’s only a five-minute walk to the entrance of the convention center, so that’s pretty hard to beat.” He smiles and punches the elevator button. “I’ll do anything to avoid the traffic in this city.”

“I hate the traffic back home, so I can imagine. From the air, I could see cars backed up for miles.” She shakes her head with wide eyes. “I couldn’t imagine.”

“I think people just get used to returning phone calls and stuff from the cars.” The elevator doors close and we are ushered to the top floor. “The Ferrari would be a complete waste around here. It’s bad enough in Seattle.”

“I liked the drive out to Camano Island. That’s what that was made for,” she says with a grin. “We have to take another road trip whenever we get another nice day.”

“Yeah, next time we get one of those odd sunny days.” I chuckle, having been in a blanket of thick clouds all week. “That’s one great thing about LA. Other than the smog, you get a lot of nice days.”

“Did you take that thing out of my bag?” she asks, coming into my bedroom after unpacking her main bag.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think that thing would make it past security.” I wink, making up some bullshit.

“Yeah, that’s what you were worried about,” she scoffs. “I planned on getting you liquored up tomorrow night so I could take advantage of you.”

“Hey, I already know how that mind of yours works,” I inform her with a glare. “Which is exactly why it’s hidden away at home.” She slaps my arm, but my attention is drawn to my phone after it makes a sound that I’m not familiar with. “Oh, fuck . . .” I know it’s not good when I see that JessicaCon_93 has tagged me in an Instagram post.

“What now?” Felicia closes her eyes and shakes her head slowly from side to side, bracing for the latest piece of bad news.

“She posted three of the pictures with the caption Look what my baby daddy is doing,” I tell her while nervously skimming the story. “But she blurred out your face and it doesn’t mention your name. Although she does refer to you as random skank. Definite grounds for libel.”

“At least my nipples are blurred out too,” she says, seeming a bit relieved by the fact that no one can really tell who it is.

“Instagram doesn’t allow nudity, so she had to. Otherwise, you can bet my schlong would be hanging out there too.” I scan to the bottom of the article. “Shit. She tells them that they can see my dick in its full glory by visiting booth twenty-seven at Sexapalooza starting tomorrow afternoon at four o’clock. She’s offering a hundred-dollar gift card to anyone who gets a picture of me getting slapped by one of them.”

“That chick is either seriously warped or she was really whipped over you,” she says with a tentative look. “Becca always said that women are only psycho because a guy made them that way. Usually their daddy or the last guy they dated.”

“She was a very consistent client, so I did the best I could to make her happy.” I shrug, not sure I should even go down this path. “She makes a good living, so I just assumed she was using me to fill a void. She’s a total ballbuster, so it’s not like she can keep a man unless maybe he’s shackled to her bed. She had those problems long before meeting me.”

“It just makes you wonder what the hell happened to her,” she replies, actually seeming empathetic toward her.

“She never said.” I click to my contacts. “I’m going to give the PI a call and see if he has anything that I can use to defend myself. Otherwise, I’m going to be on high alert all weekend.”

“Me too,” she says with a rise in her voice. “Seriously, everyone is going to immediately know that I’m the girl in the pictures.”

“Like I said, I’m going to see what we can do to counter this thing.” I punch his contact info to call him. “Otherwise, you and I might as well go home and just leave everything to Sally.”

“Yeah, Sally would really appreciate that,” she says, going back to the other room to finish unpacking.

Felicia

I breathed a sigh of relief after seeing that she obstructed my face and private parts in those pictures. Not that this is a great situation, but it could’ve been so much worse. I finish hanging up my clothes and unpacking my makeup and things, wondering if we will actually be staying. I’m sure he’ll still want to be here on Saturday and Sunday, but he could skip tomorrow afternoon and evening. Then again, who knows? I’ve never been the subject of an angry mob, so I have no idea how to deal with it.

“Yes!” I hear him cry out from the other room as I tuck my suitcase away in the closet. “I’m going to nail her to the cross!” he declares, coming into the second bedroom with a look of victory in his eyes.

“What is it?” I ask, wanting to share in the excitement after a worrisome four days.

“The other day, he asked about the brand of condoms I used, and both brands have spermicide built in. He started thinking that it would be unlikely that a sample would remain viable after spending even ten minutes in that environment,” he says with a huge sense of relief. “That’s why she needed so many samples. I had a deep-seated fear that she was sharing with her friends, which would’ve been an even bigger nightmare.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking. You would have no idea how many kids you could possibly be responsible for.” I cringe. “So what’s does all of this mean?”

“He figured that since she finally got pregnant, she had eventually resorted to going somewhere for professional help.”

“Like a fertility clinic or something?” I ask, immediately knowing where this is headed.

“Exactly. The only problem was all the privacy laws, so he requested a court order which just came through this morning,” he says, repeating what he had been told. “Since the wait gave him some time to think about it, he decided to start with the clinic that had done the paternity test. And we got lucky.”

“Seriously? Wow, if that’s the case, you would have a valid lawsuit against her,” I tell him, knowing that consent is a huge issue in any case involving insemination. “Both her and the clinic would be liable since she used your semen without your consent.”

“I honestly don’t give a shit about that,” he says, practically jumping out of his skin. “I need to get ahold of my blogger friend who does freelance writing for TMZ, The Huffington Post, and Perez Hilton. With her help, we’ll blow Jessica’s story right out of the water and will get a ton of free publicity at the same time.”

“Jesus, if that story breaks on all three platforms, you’ll crush her credibility in one blow,” I add, feeling grateful that I’m not in her shoes. “Lying to over eleven million followers? She’s going to have a really shitty weekend.”

“Yeah, and if I play this right, we’ll be crushed with business. I’m going to tell the whole story, how she forced me to switch businesses, and I’m going to mention the website as many times as they let me. I’d better login to my AWS account and boost my server capacity,” he says with light literally dancing in his eyes. “I’ve never been so excited.”

“Me either,” I reply, suddenly realizing what this will mean for him. Instead of being washed up like Jessica intended, he’ll end up with a ton of free exposure. Hell, that can be worth a fortune in this social media-driven world. “We need to sit down and talk this through before you call your friend. You want to cover all the angles and get the story as tight as possible. I’m so excited for you.”

“Seriously?” he scoffs. “I want you to be excited for us. You and I are an incredible team, so regardless of what happens, you’ll always have a place in the company. In fact, if you keep writing blurbs like you have been, I’ll give you the Director of Marketing position. You’re at least as good as anyone else I’ve interviewed.”

“Really? Thank you.” I’m completely stunned right now. “That’s very generous of you.”

“Don’t think that I’m doing you a favor or that it’s because we’re hittin’ it,” he replies with a stern look. “You’re really talented and you deserve it.” I can’t help giggling. “What’s so funny?”

“The fact that you used the phrase hittin’ it with such a serious expression on your face.” I can’t help giggling. “You kill me sometimes.”

“Knocking boots. Beatin’ the sheets. Whatever you want to call it,” he says, causing me to actually snort for the third time in under a week.

“Oh, yeah, ‘beatin’ the sheets’ is much more romantic,” I reply, giving him a well-deserved poke in the ribs. “Okay, let’s make some serious money. We’ll lay out the story between Jessica and you starting from the first time you met. Do you remember why she came to see you in the first place?”

“She was having intimacy issues,” he says with a chuckle. “She thought it had something to do with the physical aspects of her relationships. After a couple of sessions, I quickly discovered the problems were purely psychological. I tried to talk to Cindy about it, but since she’s her aunt, she wasn’t the most objective.”

“Cindy? The psychologist?”

“Yeah, I saw her as a favor to Cindy, which is why I put up with more shit than I normally would have. Cindy had sent me so many good clients over the years. I felt like I owed her,” he explains, his eyes revealing the suppressed pain.

“So that’s why you kept seeing her?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” His mood begins to turn more somber, so I move forward, trying to piece together a timeline of how things progressed. Within the hour, I had a complete timeline of how it slowly became an unhealthy relationship and then turned toxic once she began threatening him. The fact that she used a fertility clinic cemented the entire case against her. I’m sure she was becoming desperate after repeated failures, but that was really a stupid move.

I know Rex doesn’t want to go after the fertility clinic, but this is clear-cut negligence. She must’ve had connections or something to even get it done. He shouldn’t completely let them off the hook. “Would you ever consider raising the kid?” I ask, tossing out a thought as it crosses my mind.

“I haven’t even thought of it,” he blurts out, looking like he was just hit with a jolt of electricity. “I don’t even know if it’s going to be a boy or a girl.”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really, I guess.” He looks up at the ceiling for a moment. I’m sure a myriad of thoughts is swirling through his head. Nothing scares a single guy more than talking about babies. “I really don’t know.”

“I didn’t really expect you to know,” I reassure him. “I just know you are uncomfortable with her raising your child, so I was just wondering if the thought had crossed your mind.”

“It probably tried to cross my mind,” he admits with a pained smirk. “But I pretty much squashed it.”

“I totally understand. You have plenty of time to consider your options,” I reply, running my fingers along the top of his arm. “When is she due?”

“Four months or so, I assume.” He gets up from the chair and begins pacing the room. “Dammit, now you’re making me feel guilty.”

“Hey, you didn’t do anything that you should feel guilty about,” I tell him, getting up and wrapping my arms around him. “Just forget I asked.”

“Yeah, right. That’s one of those things you can’t unhear,” he says, shaking his head and giving me a reluctant hug. “But, like you said, there’s time to figure it out.”

Rex’s blogger friend, Liz, squealed with delight when he began telling her what Jessica had done to him. It turns out that she has made more than a few enemies in the blogging and social media world, so she assured him that after she submitted the story overnight, it would spread like wildfire. “I’m sorry she did this to you,” she said before hanging up. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to have such a permanent connection with her.”

“I can’t either,” he replied before hanging up the phone. His left eye begins to twitch so violently that it’s actually noticeable. “I think I’m having a stroke or something,” he adds jokingly. “Let’s just order room service. Pick out a couple things you like and I’ll share them with you.”

“Okay. Just lie down and relax for a bit. You’ve been under a lot of pressure,” I tell him, patting the bed. He gives me a sigh but doesn’t hesitate to take my advice.

I pick up the menu and immediately gravitate to the baby spinach salad with peaches, raspberries, and a raspberry vinaigrette. I also order the Nixon burger, which features imported wagyu beef, short ribs, crispy onions, pepper jack cheese, and chipotle barbecue sauce. Judging by the way his eye continues to twitch, I figure he can use something savory to take his mind off things. I also order a couple of double shots of Tomatin scotch, since that’s the one he introduced me to the first night we were together. Hopefully, the combination of the two will ease his mind.