“What are you doing here, Maria?” I ask, as soon as I’m in the lobby. “Part of our agreement was that you stay away.”
“That’s exactly what I’m here to talk to you about,” she says, her eyes boring into me.
Damn. Those chocolate brown eyes shining off her olive reflection are part of what made me have to have her so bad that I would risk what I had built to sleep with her.
But we were supposed to have an understanding. She’d approached me with the idea. Even though we’d worked together for a long time and I was her superior, we’d just be together once, and it would all be fine after that. She told she was moving away soon anyway, to be with her mother in St. Louis, to help take care of her because she was ill. So, then I wouldn’t be her boss anymore. It would just be for one night of passion.
Of course, I upheld my end of the bargain. But I guess I’d given her such a good night that she wanted to extend it into many more. That’s the problem— I’ve never found anyone worth connecting to for good and doubt I ever will. A lot of these women are gold diggers who don’t say that up front but instead show their true colors after the deed’s been done. My mom died when I was young, and my dad met a gold digger like that, who took him for half of everything in the divorce, after she ran away with some pretty-boy actor.
I’m not going to let that happen to me. I try to make a deal with these women and they seem to be all into it at first. But after once or twice everything changes. Once they get a whiff of how much money I have, they think that’s what they want, but then they get my cock— I’m not trying to brag but a lot of women have said it’s the best they’ve had— and they’re hooked.
It’s like I’m a drug they can’t quit. And it’s turned me into a liability.
“I’m here to discuss our agreement,” Maria continues, reminding me just how much of a liability she’s turned into. “I don’t really know if it’s fair.”
“Well, you already signed it,” I tell her, for what must be at least the third time.
I look around and see that the only patient still waiting in the lobby is my 4:45 appointment, Mr. Jefferson, and he’s over ninety years old and nearly deaf as a doorknob. Still, I lower my voice, just to be safe.
“That money is already in your bank account,” I tell her. “And in case you’ve forgotten, it’s quite a lot.”
She bats her eyelashes and shakes her tits at me, but those tricks don’t work on me anymore. Especially since I paid her to go away and she’s still here.
“Perhaps I want more,” she says, with a wink.
“Too bad,” I tell her, getting frustrated now. “I’ve already given you way more than you were entitled to, which was a big fat nothing. You signed a relationship disclosure form, remember?”
It was true. Part of her allegedly brilliant plan to sleep with me without either of us risking anything was a disclosure form she’d signed agreeing that she and I were in a sexual relationship and that she wouldn’t sue me for any damages should the relationship end. Therefore, I didn’t owe her any money. At least not technically.
After she went back on her word, asked me to move to fucking Arizona with her and started threatening to sue me when I said no— correction, I said, “Hell no, are you out of your fucking mind? Arizona is 2,000 miles away and an average of ten degrees hotter, not to mention this was supposed to be a wa’am ba’am thank you ma’am kind of deal, not a ‘let’s move to suburban desert Utopia for the rest of our lives together kind of deal”— my partners stressed that we were on shaky legal ground and reminded me of one of the important rules of business: avoid lawsuits, if possible. Plus, I felt kind of bad for her because obviously, she got a little too fucking attached and felt like I was breaking her heart when I had only ever meant to bang her and move on.
So, I paid her to go away— quite handsomely I might add— although it’s chump change compared to being stuck with someone so gaga over me that she’d extort money out of me, for the rest of my fucking life. Yet here she is, still wanting more.
“Maybe I don’t mean more money,” she says, curving an eyebrow at me in what I know is her attempt to be sexy. But she really just looks desperate at this point. “Maybe I mean I want more of your big, hard…”
“Ahem,” someone says, clearing his throat, and I look at the open door between the doctor’s office portion of the building and the reception area to see Niles Stanton, one of my business partners and fellow doctors here at the practice, glaring at me. “Derek, do you need me to take Mr. Jefferson, since you are obviously pre-occupied?”
I turn back to Maria.
“No,” I tell him. “Maria and I were just finishing up.”
Although that’s the same thing I’d said a couple weeks ago after I’d shot my cum over her back. I felt I was marking my temporary territory and moving on. But apparently, she took it as some kind of declaration of love and or some age old ceremony wherein I supposedly claimed eternal ownership of her. This is the drawback of having a huge cock and knowing what to do with it.