Well Hung Over in Vegas: A Standalone Romantic Comedy

by Kimberly Fox

  Dahlia looks at my mother now that my dad is silent as he eats the evil strawberries. “Yes, I would like to have kids.”

  My mother smiles for the first time today.

  So do I. I would love to see Dahlia pregnant with a child. Preferably mine.

  “Just don’t raise your kid in that uptight community you live in,” Essence says, crinkling her nose up. “When are you returning to Winterland anyway?”

  “Summerland,” Dahlia corrects, glaring at her. “And I’m not sure. That’s up to my new boss.”

  Her eyes dart over to mine, and my heart speeds up when I realize that I get to spend all week with her. I’m her boss and can order her to be where I want, when I want.

  “You’ll be able to return to Summerland soon,” I say, swallowing hard as I stare back at her. “I was planning on keeping you at the McMillan Worldwide corporate office this week to introduce you to everyone and to how we do things at the company. What do you say?”

  “Really?” she says, perking up. “I’d love to.”

  Good. Because I want to show off my hot new wife and her ass that’s now all mine.

  14

  Dahlia

  “Are you Mr. McMillan’s new wife?” a woman asks as she shuffles over, clutching her coffee mug to her chest. The mug says, A Fun Thing to do in the Morning is Not Talk to Me, but the way she’s staring at me with lit-up, excited eyes tells me we’re about to do a lot of talking.

  I take a step back as she rushes toward me, waving two other ladies over along the way. “This is Tyler’s new wife,” she says, already introducing me to the two women flanking her sides even though we haven’t even been introduced. “The surprise wife from Hospitech in Summerland. I’m Susan, and this is Ashley and Beth.”

  Susan the office gossip. Every office has one, and lucky for me she found me as soon as I walked through the doors of the McMillan Worldwide Inc. head office.

  “I’m Dahlia,” I say, nodding uncomfortably as they stare at me like I’m some kind of abstract art exhibit that they can’t quite figure out.

  “Tell us how you locked down Tyler,” Beth (or was it Ashley?) asks.

  “He’s so hot!” Ashley (or no, that one is definitely Beth) says.

  I just shrug. “He’s okay.”

  “Okay?!?” Susan says, staring at me in shock. “He’s definitely the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”

  “Me too,” Ashley and Beth say at the same time, nodding like chickens.

  “Is that the ring?” Susan asks, grabbing the wedding ring that’s hanging from my necklace and nearly ripping my head off as she yanks it toward her. “It’s beautiful! Two karats?”

  “I don’t know,” I say with a shrug.

  “Why are you wearing it around your neck?” Beth asks, leaning over Susan’s shoulder to see.

  “It’s too big,” I say, forcing out a smile. “We still haven’t gotten it resized.”

  Susan finally lets it go and I take it in my hand, twirling it in my fingers. It is too big, and I’m glad that it is, because it provides me with the perfect excuse not to wear it on my finger. But in a messed-up way, I do like having it on me.

  Susan shows me around for the next twenty minutes, giving me the dirty lowdown on all of the employees, including Carl who has an open relationship with his wife and is trying to get with the new receptionist Mandy, but she is only into black guys, and Malcolm whose teenage son just got his girlfriend knocked up. By the time we get to the executive offices on the top floor, my head is dizzy with office gossip, and all I want to do is get the hell away from Susan.

  “That’s your husband’s office,” she says, pointing to a huge corner office with insanely high ceilings and a gorgeous oak door that’s open just a crack.

  My heart speeds up as I stare at it. I’ve seen Tyler naked, in his pajamas, in his childhood treehouse, but this is a side to him I haven’t fully seen: Big powerful boss. His name is stenciled in white block letters on the window in front of the closed blinds.

  The McMillan Worldwide Inc. skyscraper is a big one. It’s packed full of employees of all sorts, but nothing is like the top floor where Tyler and the rest of the executives have their huge luxurious offices. Tyler’s cousins Nick and Jason have offices up here too, as well as Mack, whose office seems to be the biggest.

  I look around as excitement surges through my veins. I wonder which office will be mine someday. Someday real soon.

  Susan straightens her top as she stares at Tyler’s closed door. “Should we go in and say hi?”

  “I better go in alone,” I say, trying to get rid of her. I don’t need someone as gossipy as her snooping around my fake marriage. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Right,” she says as her smile turns into a frown. “I’ll just see you around.”

  She looks upset as she walks back to the elevators with her shoulders slumped down now that I took away her face-to-face with the sexy boss.

  My stomach starts fluttering as I walk over to his office. This floor is absolutely spectacular, with dark wood beams running across the high ceilings, studded leather couches, and beautiful artwork hanging on the walls that should be in a museum. It looks like men in fancy suits are going to walk out any minute for cigars and brandy. It’s much different than our offices in Hospitech. The fanciest part of our office is the little cactus in the break room named Spike.

  I take a deep breath as I stand in front of the door, listening in. Tyler is having a heated conversation with someone on the phone. “I don’t know who you people are or why the hell you keep calling me…”

  His voice has a deep sexy growl to it that is making the flapping butterflies in my stomach move that much faster. For some reason I can’t explain, I undo the top button of my shirt before pushing the door open.

  “Tell you a prophecy?” he says to the person on the phone. I quietly walk in and look around. Tyler is at his desk, but his chair is turned and he’s facing the huge wall of windows behind him with the breathtaking view of the Vegas strip in the background. He doesn’t see me as I walk in, so I take the opportunity to look around.

  It’s a beautiful office with a nice Persian rug on the floor, healthy plants, a monstrous desk in the middle of the room, shelves of books along the walls, and of course, a hot guy in a tailored suit screaming into the phone.

  “Here’s a fucking prophecy, you weirdo!” he shouts. “You’ll never get laid. You’re going to die a virgin… Why are you thanking me? You’re an even bigger nutjob than I thought. Now stop calling me!”

  He shakes his head as he turns around with a frown on his face that instantly disappears when he sees me standing in front of his desk.

  “Good morning,” he says, smiling as he quickly hangs up the phone and stands up. “Welcome to McMillan Worldwide Inc.”

  I run my hand over the smooth leather of the chair in front of me. “Very nice, Mr. McMillan,” I say, nodding as I look around his office. “You’ve done well for yourself, it seems.”

  He looks me up and down slowly with a smoldering heat in his eyes. “Yes, I did very well for myself, Mrs. McMillan.”

  Warm shivers spread through me, and I hold onto the back of the chair as my legs go a little weak. He’s wearing a light gray suit with a white shirt and thin black tie; a suit whose main purpose in life is to make my knees stop functioning.

  “Nice office,” I say, avoiding the compliment. “However, I was hoping for more N’Sync posters on the walls.”

  He smiles. “I tried, but my father made me take them down after I lost too many clients because of them.”

  I shrug. “They must have been fans of the Backstreet Boys.”

  He laughs and then points at the chair. “Sit, please.”

  “So, are you going to be moving out and giving me this office for the week?” I ask, grinning as we both sit down. “I think I saw an open seat beside Susan.”

  He shivers. “Susan the gossiper? I’d rather work in the cafeteria.”

  “I’ll get you a h
airnet.”

  “So,” he says, smiling as he opens a drawer of his desk. “You forgot a few things at my hotel room during our one-night honeymoon.”

  “And why exactly did you have a hotel room if you live in Vegas?” I ask. It’s something I’ve been wondering for days.

  “I have no idea,” he says with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “I don’t remember anything from that night. We probably went back to your hotel room and I rented another one when you couldn’t remember what room number you were in.”

  That sounds about right.

  “What did I forget?” Besides my dignity and self-respect.

  He gives me a sexy smirk as he pulls out the whip and tosses it on the desk between us.

  “That’s not mine,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  “But this is,” he says, grinning as he pulls out my panties from the inside pocket of his suit jacket—the pair I left on the lamp.

  My heart starts pounding as he drags them across the bottom of his nose, inhaling deep as he stares at me. “They’re mine now.”

  My nerve endings start tingling as I watch him, holding them like an enemy holding a conquered flag.

  “Is this how you treat all of your new hires?” I ask, glaring at him.

  “Just the ones I fucked.”

  “And how many is that?” Actually, I don’t want to know. I’m not going to like any answer more than zero. “Glad to know my husband is sexually harassing all of his coworkers.”

  “Not all of my coworkers,” he says, sniffing my underwear again. My nipples harden inside of my bra as I watch him. “Just my hot new wife.”

  He’s getting me breathless as dirty thoughts creep into my mind. I take a deep breath, trying to swallow them down as I try to take the focus off me. It’s the first morning of my first day at McMillan Worldwide Inc., and I want to make a good impression. I want to be focused and alert, not wet and horny.

  “Do you have your underwear from that night in your drawer?” I ask, grinning back at him. “Who the hell wears red underwear anyway? It’s so impractical.”

  “Girls love it.”

  I laugh as I shake my head. “No, we don’t. We really don’t.”

  Maybe just a little bit.

  He smirks as he plays with my panties in his big hands. My unwashed panties.

  “You still remember the color,” he says, “so they definitely were memorable. You can still picture them covering my big cock, can’t you?”

  Yes.

  “No.”

  He gives a frustrating smirk that I can’t stop staring at. “I bet you can’t stop thinking about it.”

  I cross my arms and let out a huff of air. “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, really,” he says as he slowly gets up. My breathing stops as he walks around the desk still holding my panties in his hands. My back is rigid, and I’m staring forward as he comes up beside me and sits on his desk. His delicious cologne hits my nose, and I nearly let out a moan.

  “I think you liked my red underwear,” he whispers in a low raspy voice.

  I gulp as I try to get him out from under my skin. He’s trying to get to me, and I hate that it’s working.

  He’s playing with me. That’s all this is. He’s the boss here, and he’s trying to use his position and sexy suit to throw me off my game.

  I take a deep breath as I look up at him with an angry glare. “You’re frustrating, and arrogant, and full of yourself, and you’re a bigger prick than what you have hiding in your ridiculously unpractical red underwear.”

  My body tenses as he leans in close, stopping his lips only an inch from mine. The heat from his breath is tickling my lips, but I hold my ground and don’t move. “At least I don’t have this arrogant prick’s name tattooed on my ass,” he whispers with a grin.

  If I had a hot coffee in my hand, he’d be screaming in pain right now. And deservedly so.

  I grit my teeth as he leans back with a smug look on his frustratingly handsome face.

  “I wanted to keep my asshole company with another one,” I say, glaring at him.

  He chuckles. “You can never have too many assholes back there.”

  I grab his soft tie and yank him down until his face is back to being only an inch away from mine. “That’s not funny!” I snap. I release my Kung Fu grip on his tie and try to regain some of my composure. I try but my composure seems to have taken a one-way trip to Madagascar.

  “And why the hell did you not get a tattoo of my name?” I ask, furious that I’m the only one stuck with an unwanted tattoo.

  He smooths out his tie as he smiles. “Probably because I know that getting a tattoo of the name of someone you just met is a ridiculously horrible idea.”

  I spring to my feet and grab his tie again with one hand. My other hand is squeezed into a fist. He’s a dead man.

  Luckily for him, Mack walks into the office at that exact moment. He frowns when he sees Tyler sitting on his desk and me holding his ties like I’m about to knock his head off, which I am.

  I swallow my anger and quickly drop the tie. I give the billionaire my back as I redo my top button before turning to him with a smile on my face. Tyler tosses a folder over the whip that’s still lying on the desk as he hops off it.

  Mack doesn’t look amused. He may be a nice guy who is all hugs and smiles at home, but he’s all business here. He’s like a different person when he has his billionaire face on.

  “Good morning, sir,” I say, pissed at myself for letting Tyler make me look so unprofessional.

  Mack nods sharply at me before turning to his son. “The auto parts factory in Wellington,” he says with a sharpness to his tone. “What were the total liabilities for that division last year?”

  “Let me check that for you,” Tyler says, hurrying around his desk to his computer.

  I swallow my smile as I stand up straight. “Eleven million, three hundred thousand, six hundred, and seven dollars,” I say confidently.

  They both turn to me slowly, staring at me with their jaws hanging open in shock.

  I hide my grin. I’m just getting started, boys.

  Tyler searches for it on his computer and looks up at me with an incredulous look when he finds it. “She’s right!”

  I have Mack’s attention now, and I’m not about to waste it. “And you can save seventeen percent in annual costs if you combine the auto parts legal office with your electrical components legal office in Alabama. They pretty much use the same laws, and the time saved could be used to set up the legal department for your new acquisition in Seattle. The motor factory is going to need a legal department now that they’re under the McMillan Worldwide Inc. umbrella. But I would suggest moving everything to Alabama because there are fewer taxes on an operating litigation company.”

  Mack looks impressed. Tyler looks like I just took his king in a surprise checkmate.

  “Well done, young lady,” Mack says, nodding. “I’ll be keeping my eye on you.”

  “I’ll be keeping my eye on you too,” Tyler says, looking me up and down with a smirk.

  “Tyler,” Mack says, letting out a frustrated breath as he turns to his son. “What are you doing?”

  Tyler raises his eyes, looking confused.

  “What is wrong with you?” he asks, pointing from Tyler to me and back again. “What is this?”

  Tyler tilts his head to the side. “Lingering effects from your marijuana usage yesterday?”

  Mack frowns. “I know what you’re doing.”

  Tyler shrugs. “I’m just keeping it groovy, Dad.”

  I give him my ‘I hate you’ face.

  Mack sighs. “How about you keep it a little less groovy and a little more professional? This flirting and sexual tension in the office—there is no place for that. I don’t want any hanky panky in my building.”

  My new boss and father-in-law just said hanky panky. I want to die.

  “If you want to be the head of this company someday,” Mack says, looking exasperated, “you better s
tart acting like it. Getting married was a huge step in the right direction, but don’t let your marital relationship get in the way of your work relationship. When you two are in this building, you are coworkers above anything else. Got that?”

  My back is as straight as a marine addressing his commanding officer. “Sir, you can count on me,” I say firmly. “I’ll whip your son into shape.”

  Mack frowns as he walks over to Tyler’s desk. He grabs the folder that’s covering the whip, tosses it off, and holds up the leather whip with two fingers. “That’s what I’m afraid of, young lady.”

  He releases it like a mic drop and it lands with a slap on the table.

  “I don’t want any more foolishness,” he says.

  “Foolishness like getting stoned before breakfast?” Tyler asks with a raised eyebrow.

  Mack frowns, grunts, and then leaves. Tyler laughs as I break out into nervous giggles.

  I grab the whip and toss it at him. “Put that away. We don’t know where it’s been or how we got it.”

  “Or how we used it,” Tyler says with his eyebrow back up.

  I cringe. Good thing we’ll never know that…

  15

  Linda

  The night…

  I’m already handling three cocks when a fourth guy comes over and starts rubbing his dick on my tit. I haven’t seen him around here, but the way he’s slapping his half-hardened cock on my nipple, it doesn’t seem like he’s going to add much to this dull orgy.

  I sigh as I turn from one cock to the other, sucking it as I bounce up and down on the cock that’s sliding in and out of my bored pussy.

  It’s always the same orgy, always the same twenty or thirty boring old cocks.

  We need some new orgy friends.

  Some different cocks would be nice for a change.

  My mind starts drifting as the new guy grabs my head and shoves his soft cock into my mouth. Come on, dude. Get hard and then come over. I don’t have time for soft dicks.

  I give him a few lazy sucks and then turn back to one of the other three dicks that are pointing at my face like arrows. I stroke the shaft and suck on the head as the guy lets out deep groans like he’s about to come. He yanks his cock away from me and jerks himself off, howling like a madman as he dribbles half a teaspoon of cum on my unimpressed tits.