Tempt The Playboy
Page 5
“I was trying to get Josh to imagine that you’re a woman with a hairy bush so he doesn’t ask you out again!” I drink from the wine glass I’m holding in my hand. “You’re welcome.” I smirk.
“What the hell are we going to do with all those penis balloons?”
She looks around. “Asshole,” she grumbles under her breath.
“What’s the story with Noah?” I try to ask casually, thinking back to the conversation we had. I would have let him plow my lawn.
“No idea. He’s Austin’s best friend from what I gathered,” she tells me while looking at Rachel, who is running in circles with, unfortunately, a penis balloon in her hand. “Ten minutes to bath time!” she calls out, hoping she acknowledges her, but she just continues her one-girl—with a penis balloon—parade.
“Mom,” we hear Gabe call from behind us. “Can I go to Jesse’s house to kick the ball around?”
She checks her watch before answering. “Only for thirty minutes, okay?”
“So, what are you going to do to Austin for all of this?” I ask, pointing to the balloons.
“Nothing.” She smirks. “We called a truce.”
I sit up and put my glass down. “I know that smirk. I’ve been on the receiving end of that smirk!”
“I mean, we called truce today, right? We didn’t call truce on Wednesday when he made me run back out for a fucking crisp kosher pickle, because the one that came with his sandwich was limp, right?” she asks me with a perplexed smile on her face. It’s almost like you’re looking into evil.
“What did you do now? From the pictures, his balls were almost the size of Gabe’s soccer ball.” I think back on Noah’s phone that he took out when he got a text from someone. His lock screen was of swollen balls.
She slaps the table. “You saw pictures?” Her mouth is hanging open.
I nod. “I did. Not the actual frank, though, just the beans. But they were ginormous.” I motion with my hands, forming them into huge round objects in the air. “Now, what did you do?”
“Nothing that will make any part of him swell. I will never, ever do something like that again.” She shakes her head. “I may have shredded one of his parking tickets that had to be paid by yesterday so he could avoid his car getting booted,” she confesses quietly, looking into the glass she picked up from the table.
“Holy shit. I hope you kept the photocopies, because you can’t not pay that. He is going to know it was you,” I warn her.
“I know, I know. I kept them, so just relax.” She puts her hands on her hips and states defensively, “I’m going to pay them.”
“When?” I ask her again, earning an eye roll from her.
“Next week,” she replies. “Rach, bath time.” She walks to the back door. “Don’t you dare sit there and judge me, missy.” She points at me. “By the way, the potatoes had butter in them. That’s for the bikini wax,” she says before she turns her back to me and walks inside with the sound of her curses filling my ears.
“Are you fucking insane? I’m vegan. That’s fucking wrong.” I shake my head, picking up a penis straw and throwing it at her, where it nose dives on the table.
I sit down, finishing the rest of my wine while the cleanup crew comes and starts taking down everything.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” one of the men calls me. “Where do you want all the balloons?” he asks me.
I smile at him.
“In my sister’s car.” I point to the gate door. “The minibus in the front, just pile them in there.” He smiles at me and nods, the balloons following him as he walks to the car, shoving most of them in there.
“Take that, Donkey Kong Bitch.” I smile into the wine glass, finishing off the last drop.
I walk inside, closing the door, then walk upstairs right as Lauren comes out of the bathroom. “Are the guys still cleaning up?”
“Yeah, they are almost done.” I smile at her, walking to my room and closing the door. I turn on one soft light in the room, undressing, tossing my dress into the basket. My phone buzzes and I pick it up as I lie on the bed and see I missed out on quite a bit.
There are messages from the studio about a change in the times. Then there is another one from an unknown number.
Hey, I hope I have the right person. Do you have a manicured lawn?
I throw my head back, laughing at the message.
It depends on who is asking. How did you get my number?
I jump onto Facebook while I wait to see if he’ll answer right away.
It’s called stalking 101. I went on Lauren’s Facebook, went to her friends list, found you. Clicked your page, and on your about section I saw your studio name. Clicked the studio and then boom, I got my prize.
I shake my head.
Wow, you put a lot of thought into this process. Well, I should make it worthwhile. I take a picture of my bare legs.
Holy shit, are we exchanging pictures already? This is fantastic news.
The picture is of him lying down, wearing a pair of basketball shorts, on the bed. The elastic rides very low, showing you he’s a landscaper also. His chest perfect, his abs defined. He’s not a muscle man, but it’s the side abs that get me. Cut and lean. That is the best way I can describe him.
Thanks for that. It made it into my spank bank.
I got a lot more where that came from, but I don’t give it away on the first night. Have dinner with me?
When?
Tomorrow.
I shrug my shoulders, thinking what the worse that can happen is.
Sure, where?
My place, your place, the fucking park. I don’t care as long as you’re sitting in front of me.
I giggle.
That’s a good one. How about I meet you at your place say 6 p.m.
Perfect. What’s your favorite thing to eat?
I smirk at myself while I answer him.
Cock. Lots and lots of cock. See you tomorrow, Noah. Send me your address.
974 Sherville Rd. Oh and that answer made this happen.
The picture that comes through is his shorts, hiding a very erect cock.
See you tomorrow, beautiful.
I turn on my side, watching the stars twinkle outside. Closing off my light, the lights from outside stream in. I yawn and slowly close my eyes and drift off to sleep, dreaming of blue oceans and eyes that make me get lost.
My night dreams are of the beach, chasing the waves, running, doing cartwheels in the sand. Sitting in the middle of the sand, taking in the beauty of the sun going down. My alarm wakes me with charm bells. Slowly at first, soft, going higher and higher till it’s like a siren.
“Aunt Kay.” I hear Rachel outside my door. “Mom said to get your bony hind downstairs and get the willy balloons out of the car.”
I turn over, laughing while I throw the covers off, grabbing my robe and going to the door. I open the door and Rachel is still standing there. “You’re in big trouble, missy.”
She leans in, whispering as I pick her up, bringing her close to me, “She used her mom inside voice.”
I lean back, my eyes going wide. “Oh, dear.”
“Yes,” she says, nodding, “she talks like this.” She imitates Lauren talking with her teeth clenched.
“Oh, well, I better go get dressed and bring my behind downstairs.” I kiss her neck. “Go brush your teeth while I get dressed.” I put her down, watching her run into her bathroom.
I walk to my drawer, taking out my pink yoga capris with the matching bra. I head downstairs while Lauren gives the ten-minute warning.
I smile as I step into the kitchen. “Good morning, sunshine.” I stop at the coffee machine.
“Did you put the penis balloons in my car?” She turns to ask me, stuffing papers into Rachel’s backpack.
I bring the cup of coffee to my lips. “No.” I shake my head, hiding my smile while I take a sip. “I didn’t put them in your car.” I’m not lying either. I myself didn’t put them in her car.
“My whole ca
r is filled with penis balloons.”
I put the cup down as Lauren yells bus up the stairs. Rachel comes hopping into the room, grabbing her backpack, with Gabe right behind her. He grabs his bag from Lauren, kisses her cheek, then comes over to me and does the same.
“Have a kick-ass day,” I tell him.
“I’m going to kick ass today,” Rachel says, walking out the door.
“Watch your mouth,” Lauren says and follows them outside to the bus.
I pick up my cup and watch them walk to the bus stop. The bus arrives right on time. I wave goodbye to them as Lauren returns.
“You okay to work today?” I ask her, knowing that somehow things between Austin and her aren’t quite what they seem to be.
“I’m more than okay. I’ll be fine now that we have all”—she waves her hand in the air—“that animosity out of the way.”
I laugh at her. “Is that what you’re calling it?” I hold the cup with both hands, taking another gulp.
She glares at me, opening her car door, one helium penis balloon floating up into the sky. We both watch the balloon float off. She opens the back door and the rest slowly float out. “Let them go, Lauren,” I say loudly as Mrs. Flounder comes outside, her hair still in curlers, with a scarf around her head. “It’s raining penises, Mrs. Flounder. They are raining down on us.”
I raise my hand to the sky. She claps her hands together. “I would like to be rained down on.” She winks at Lauren. “For a whole five minutes. That would be my dream.”
I raise my cup to her. “Here’s hoping.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Lauren says, closing the back door, then climbing into the front seat. “Don’t forget the kids.”
“Aye aye, captain,” I say, saluting her. “I have a date tonight.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “A date I hope to become the pretzel.”
She laughs as she pulls out of the driveway.
By the time I make it to the studio doing my routine and making it back home where I get the kids ready and settled, I have just enough time to throw on a dark blue summer dress. I pick up my purse from the bed, tossing the bra and panties that I am happily going without.
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.”