CHAPTER TWO
ZAYNE
I ROLL OFF MY LATEST conquest. Sweat drips down my forehead, soaking into my hair. I turn to look at the woman—a curvaceous red head, with a dirty mouth and even dirtier mind. I zero in on her face. Her eyes are still closed…what’s her name? It starts with an “L.” Maybe Leah? Lily? Leann? Yes, that’s it.
The disgust I feel for not remembering her name, doesn’t even compare to the detachment growing inside. I get up from the bed, unabashed by my nudity, and quietly walk to the bathroom and shut the door.
Inside, I grasp the condom. “Ow, ow, son of a bitch.” I howl and jump on the balls of my feet as the condom snaps off from my flaccid cock. I wrap it in tissue and discard it before I move to the mirror. Russet red hair spiked every which way and tired blue eyes stare back. I rub my day-old stubble; it’s time for a shave. The scent of the sleeping woman ascends into my nose, causing nausea to build. After quickly turning on the faucet to the hottest setting I can tolerate, I reach for the soap in the shower stall and furiously scrub my face. I scour every inch until it’s angry red and the smell is gone. Again, I return my eyes to my reflection, and sadly, I don’t recognize the person staring back.
A knock startles me, and I glance to the door. Shit, Leann is awake.
I groan, “Yeah, just a minute.” I grab my toothbrush and Colgate and scrub my teeth, probably harder than is needed, but the obsessive need to cleanse myself is in control of my limbs. I lean over the sink and spit the tooth paste and grime from my actions. The minty taste abates the foul taste on my tongue.
“Hurry up, Z. I need to feel you inside of me again. I’ll pay double for it,” she purrs. I quickly cough into my fist, suppressing the gagging. My heart races, and my palms sweat. A ghosting of her face shimmers in my mind, calming my nerves and yet deepening the shame inside. I take a deep breath, exit the bathroom, and immediately crash into Leann.
She runs her hands up my chest and entwines her fingers into my hair. I stiffen as she scratches the back of my neck. I unhook her claws and place her hands at her sides.
“Sorry, babe, time’s up.” I gently push her out of my way, avoiding her narrowed eyes. I walk over to the desk and phone my driver. It rings twice before Frank answers.
“Mr. Thompson, what can I do for you?” Frank offers his services in a jovial tone.
“I need the car to return my guest to the drop-off site.”
“Yes, sir.” Frank hangs up. I should pay the man more. He’s ex-military and an asset to my team. He’s always at my beck and call and never questions my orders.
Leann huffs and puffs behind me, but I don’t spare her a look. I glance up to the clock and see I have two hours before my meeting with the board of directors. I need to shower, but I’m not happy about putting on my dirty boxers and tux from last night. Speaking of which…where are my boxers? I glance around the room and spot them next to the couch. I run over and grab them.
“Z,” Leann yells while stomping her foot. “Aren’t you listening to me at all? I said I would pay double.”
I turn to the angry woman, my boxers in my hands. “Sweetie, begging is never attractive.” I take a moment to glory in the “O” her mouth forms.
I gather up her dress and stalk over to the still-stunned, naked woman. I hold out her belongings and wait for her take them from me.
Finally, her mouth starts moving as she hastily yanks on her clothes, “I have never been this insulted in my life, especially from a man-whore.”
I continue to stare at the harpy, who is still flinging insults at me. “Small dick…” “Worst sex of my life.” I roll my eyes at her and move around her to get to the bathroom.
“I expect to see you gone by the time I get out of the shower,” I command her, and a hint of lust flutters across her eyes. “And no, you can’t join me.” I slam the door in her enraged face.
A few seconds later, a door slams outside, and I crank on the hot water. Breathing a sigh of relief knowing she’s gone, I step into the spray. “Ow, shit, that’s hot.” I yelp as the scalding-like-lava water beats down my stomach. Hopping from foot to foot, I quickly reach out and adjust the handle to a more tolerable temperature.
I bend my head into the rushing water, letting it soak my hair and run down my back. Resting my forehead on the cool tile allows the spray to hit the tired muscles of my lower back. Defeat seeps in as I realize I can’t keep doing this anymore. It took visualizing every dirty porn I’ve ever viewed and every Playboy magazine I have seen to obtain and sustain an erection.
“Fuck,” I whisper, lifting my head into the spray. I’m a thirty-year-old successful man, and I can’t keep a boner to save my life. I finish with my shower rather quickly and dry off. After wrapping the towel low around my waist, I head to the bed.
I sit at the edge, elbows on my thighs, head resting in my hands, and my thoughts drift back to my thirtieth birthday, or what I can remember of it. All I can see is that picture of Marnie and me. Her look of adoration toward me causes acid to fill the back of my throat. Shame weighs heavily on my already tense shoulders, ‘cause I know Marnie would hate me if she knew me now. That kills me more than anything.
Knowing I can’t do anything about my problem, I get up and change back into my tux. When I’m ready, I open the door, turn around, and survey the room, making sure everything is in proper order, before I step out and shut the door behind me.
Pressing the accelerator, pushing the Audi to the max, I open the sunroof to let the wind blow. The roar of the engine soothes me and clears my mind of unwanted thoughts. The flashing lights of the city and the interstate passing have a hypnotic effect on me. Before I even realize it, I’m pulling into my townhouse in Lincoln Park.
I turn off the engine and sit for a minute, gazing out the window and into the back of my garage. “I need to talk to Jason,” I tell the empty car.
I stroll up to Jason’s office, let out a slow breath, and raise my hand to the door. I give the wood two quick raps and wait for him to answer. I’ve always looked up to my cousin Jason. Growing up, he and his brother Jax were like brothers to me. Our mothers are sisters.
After working in New York for several years after college, Jason moved back into town to take over his grandfather’s butcher shop when he died.
When I graduated with a degree in marketing, I had wanted to branch away from my father’s PR company to make a name of my own, but that never happened. Six months after graduation, my father suffered a massive heart attack and passed away. I inherited his company and rapidly learned it was closing in on filing for bankruptcy and destroying the reputation my grandfather had cultivated.
Then one night, we were hanging out at The Brown Bottle, and I told him the struggles I was having cleaning up the company. Jason shocked the hell out of me by telling me he used to sell himself for money in college. It was never a secret he was a man-whore; but what floored me was that he got paid for it and that he was able to pay for some of his college debt. After my initial shock wore off, he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. That was just over two years ago, and it’s something I now regret.
Jason’s answering, “Come in,” is audible through the door. I step in, shut the door behind me, and then lean against it. Jason motions for me to sit in a folding chair. I assess the chair in question; it won’t hold my large frame. I’ll break the damn thing. I glance around the room, noting the picture of him and our grandfather, and I chuckle at the plants that I know my aunt gave him.
Jason raises an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with my plants, Zayne?”
“Nothing…nothing at all.”
He leans back in his black, leather chair. “Is there a reason why you’re here, or is it just to be a pain my ass?”
“I…um.” Words escape me. I mean, how do you tell your cousin and boss that you can’t get a fucking erection to save your life? I blow out a long breath, steeling my resolve. “I’m having problems with my…” I rub my hand over my face, “performance,” I quickly spit out.
Jason tilts his head with a look of bewilderment. “Like, what do you mean ‘performance’?” He air quotes.
I scratch my fingers through my hair. “I’m having trouble with…you know…” I wave my hand down at my crotch.
Jason leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers under his chin. “No, Zayne, I don’t know what you’re talking about, please explain.”
“Jesus, you’re not gonna make this easy on me.” I cover my face, and Jason snickers.
“Just spit it out, I don’t have all day,” he goads.
I suck in a long, deep breath and exhale. “I can’t keep it up anymore.” There, I said it, I’m a thirty-year-old, healthy male in my prime, suffering from impotence.
I glance up to see Jason’s beet red face, with tears pooling in his eyes. “Motherfucker, I’m serious about this.”
Jason’s guffawed laughter echoes off the walls. I sit on the questionable chair and stare him down, waiting for him to calm his fit.
“Man, am I getting punked?” he asks between his chuckles, swiping a tear that escaped.
I push out of the chair, seething that this fuck-face thinks he’s getting punked. I grasp the doorknob. “I knew this was a waste of time.” I yank the door open—
“Wait, hold on.” Jason stands and plants both hands on his desk. “You’re serious?” It was more of an exclamation than a question.
I close the door with a slam and wince, I didn’t mean to shut it that hard. After returning to my previous position leaning against the door, I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out an exasperated sigh.
“Holy shit! You are serious, like this is a problem?”
I meet his surprised face with my sullen one. “Yeah, I’m serious. Two nights ago, I was with a customer and barely finished by the skin of my teeth.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“For about a year, it started after my thirtieth birthday. I’ve done everything I can to fix the situation, outside of seeing a doctor. Nothing has worked.” My eyes start to burn from lack of sleep.
“Can you think of something that happened back then that changed?” He sits back down in his chair and picks up a pen and twirls it in his fingers.
I shake my head, but secretly, deep in my marrow, I know the reason why. Marnie. The one name that excites me and weakens me. The guys know who she is, but they don’t know the extent of the obsession I’ve had for her for over a decade.
“Is it a woman?” I wince at the question because it was too close to home. “So, it is. Maybe the one that you told us about a while ago.” He raises his brows and tilts his chair back.
I rub the back of my neck. Fuck him and his perceptiveness. “Okay, yeah it’s about her. After my thirtieth birthday, I went and crashed at my office.”
“Okay, I remember that you were so shit-faced, Jax and I carried you to it and had to strip you out of your suit.” I roll my eyes at him, but he continues, “If memory serves me right, we even offered a nightcap, to which you puked all over yourself.”
Jason continues to snicker as I stare and wish him his untimely death. “So, after you guys left, I went sifting through my desk—”
“Drunk as a skunk?” he interrupts.
“Yes, just shut up and let me finish! Christ! So yes, I was sifting through my desk and a photo I had forgotten was in it slipped out. It was of her and me about twelve years ago. She was so beautiful, so perfect for me. I just sat there, the world spinning from the vodka, and all I could think about was if we stayed together, would my life be different? Then, out of some sick compulsion, or the whiskey I started into after the vodka, I may have stalked her on Facebook.”
“May have, or did you?”
“I did, and she’s back here, in Chicago.”
Jason snaps his chair upright and pulls in closer to his desk. “And…”
“That’s it, I didn’t message her. I know she’ll despise me for what I do to make extra money. Marnie was a very naïve girl back then, believed in sex after marriage.”
“Because of this, you can’t get a hard-on?”
“Yup, pretty much.”
“You’re fucked in the head.”
I place my head in my hands and mumble, “Don’t I know it!” while Jason hums “Another One Bites the Dust.”