I didn’t get a chance to answer him. He buried his head between my legs and sucked my clit between his lips, making me scream out in pleasure. I grabbed his hair, to try to get him to slow down, but it was no use. He held my legs down and took his time devouring my pussy with his mouth.

I shut my eyes as I surrendered complete control, as I realized that I was going to let this man do whatever he wanted to do to me for the rest of the night...

THE PUBLICIST

PENELOPE

The next morning...

I rolled over in bed, groaning as every single muscle in my body ached in pleasurable pain. My legs felt as if they were too weak to stand on, as if they had yet to recover from Ryan fucking me against my dresser, my wall, and the edge of my mattress. My lips were sensitive and sore from the way he’d bit them—when he made me beg him to fuck me harder. And my nipples were numb from the way he’d sucked them while I rode his cock during our final round.

I wasn’t sure when he’d left or when he’d dressed me in a T-shirt and tucked me into my bed, but a part of me was wishing I’d broken my second rule and given him my phone number so we could do that all over again.

Unable to sit up, I dozed off to memories of him fucking me—smiling each time he buried his head between my legs and teased me with his mouth.

After replaying our wall sex for the fifth time, I rolled over to the other side of my bed and grabbed my phone from the nightstand. I was still confused about the client who was coming in at four o’clock and I was hoping someone on my team would have some answers so we would be somewhat prepared whenever he came in.

I should definitely pick up some breakfast before going in today...

I unlocked my phone’s screen and saw that my inbox was full of similar subject lines: “Where are you?” “Are you okay?” “What’s going on?” “The concierge is going to call the police if you don’t let us know where you are by three...”

Confused, I opened the first message and started to type back. Then I noticed the time.

It’s one o’clock?

“What the fuck!” I stumbled out of bed and damn near fell to the floor. There was no way it was one in the afternoon. The sky outside my window was still dark, the usual ‘it’s five o’clock and I’m super early for work’ dark.

I pulled the curtains open and noticed the ominous clouds in the sky above. Traffic was at a mid-day standstill and the rain was falling over the city in sheets.

Shit. Shit. Shit...

I sent Tina a quick “I’m on my way. Bad morning. Sorry,” text message. Then I texted our town car driver and told him I’d need a ride to work in thirty minutes.

Tossing off my T-shirt, I wrapped myself in a towel and headed to the bathroom. I tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Sarah?” I knocked. “Sarah, are you in there?”

“I’m actually right here.” She stepped in front of the door, swinging a key.

“You had a new lock installed on our bathroom?” I really needed to replace her with another roommate. Fast.

“Yes, I did have a new key made for our bathroom. This is our bathroom, isn’t it?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Just me and you.”

“What are you trying to say?” I crossed my arms. “Actually, can you hold that thought and just unlock the door, please? Surely we can discuss whatever the issue is after I get off work later today.”

“Nope.” She continued swinging the key. “Your guy friend doesn’t need to use our bathroom when he comes over anymore. That goes for your other friends and work buddies as well. We just completed a new study in my lab about the danger of visitor germs.”

You have got to be kidding me right now...

“Who knows what type of mutated germs they carry, you know? They all travel somewhere new every month and I never hear them talk about fully cleaning their possessions upon their return. I mean, I’m not paying twenty-five hundred a month to deal with your guests’ germs. Also, speaking of your guests, I couldn’t help but notice that you brought someone home with you last night.”

I tried my best to keep a straight face, to look like I was taking her foolishness seriously.

“My music was on its highest volume, but I still overheard you having sexual relations in our living room,” she said. “You had them on the couch, the wall, and the carpet, so I’ve called a deep cleaning service to come here this evening. I expect to be fully repaid by the end of the week for the four hundred dollars this will cost, and from the way things sounded with that guy last night, I hope you plan on getting your mattress steamed. Do you?”

I didn’t answer her. I snatched the key from her hand and unlocked the bathroom door, quickly shutting myself inside. I heard her continuing her pointless speech through the door, so I stepped into the shower and turned up the water pressure as high as it could go.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my nerves as I washed my hair.

All hope is not lost, Penelope...The new client meeting isn’t until four and you can definitely get to work by two to prepare...

I stepped out of the shower minutes later and headed into the laundry room to get my lucky “signing day” suit. I’d never failed to secure a deal while wearing it, and I always kept it dry cleaned and tucked away for special days like today.

Hitting the lights, I expected to see it hanging high on the clothing rack as usual, but it wasn’t there. It couldn’t have been there because in its place was a similar suit that bore discolored, ugly blotches of white and pink. A suit that looked as if it’d lost a long and hard battle with a bottle of bleach.

“Sarah!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “Sarah!”

“Yeah?” She called back. “What?”

“What the hell happened to my grey suit?”

“I don’t really know,” she said. “I saw it a few hours ago and realized I must have accidentally bleached it. Sorry.”

I shut the door and headed toward her voice, straight to the kitchen. I silently counted backwards from ten before speaking to prevent myself from completely losing it.

“Sarah, that was my lucky suit and I only wear it on signing days,” I said. “Today is a signing day.”

“Oh. Well, that sounds somewhat exciting,” she said dryly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I need you to kindly tell me how you accidentally bleached a ‘dry-clean’ only suit.” My blood was boiling. “It’s always in a plastic bag, and there is always—always, a bright red ‘DRY CLEAN ONLY’ tag hanging from it.”

“I guess I don’t really know.” She shrugged, smiling. “How do you bring someone home and accidentally forget to clean up when you know damn well that your roommate is a germaphobe?”

I resisted the instant urge to lean over the counter and strangle her, but only because I didn’t have any more time to waste.

I can totally do it later...

I rushed to my room and flipped through the other suits in my closet, settling on a black dress and blazer combination. Searching for my lint brush, I pulled my dresser drawer open and noticed there was a folded paper tucked into the side of my mirror.

This definitely wasn’t here yesterday...

Confused, I opened it and saw a handwritten note in bright, blue cursive:

Rachel,

I think you were lying to me about being “experienced” last night. You orgasmed three times, and that was before we ever made it to your bedroom. I also find it hard to believe you “usually wear silk or lingerie.” Your drawers are full of cotton, granny panties.

—The best man you’ve ever fucked (Thank you for that compliment afterward, even though I already knew that...)

PS—For the record, your pussy is quite phenomenal.

UGH!

I rolled my eyes and tucked his smart-ass note at the bottom of my drawer, realizing he was right about my nonexistent panty collection.

I slipped into my dress and heels, and pulled my hair into a low ponytail. I put on a light layer of concealer and lip gloss, then I grabbed my briefcase and umbrella.

Leaving the condo, I walked halfway down the block to my favorite coffee shop. It was the one place that never failed to instantly turn my dreariest days into my best days with its custom caramel drizzle latte.