by Liv Morris
You can’t half tell I have abandonment issues, can you?
***
After a few hours drinking with my old buddy, we finally parted ways. By that I mean he left while I ordered another scotch, eyeing the blonde at the bar. I cocked my head, signaling her to come over. She got to her feet, her tipsiness noticeable by the way she stumbled slightly as she took a step. She reached my table and sat down, smiling at me.
“Hello sexy,” I murmured. She was a pretty little thing, which made me wonder what she was doing sitting in a bar all alone dressed up to the nines. With her messed-up hair, her streaking mascara and glassy eyes, the few drinks she’d consumed had clearly taken their toll on her.
“Hello,” she said, a sudden burst of shyness consuming her. Where was the confident beauty who had been shooting me sexy glances all night?
“So I’m about to leave, and the question is, are you going to be leaving with me?” I downed the last of my drink and stood up, as if I didn’t care either way. This was easy to do because I really couldn’t care less whether she came with me or not. She opened her mouth, both shocked and aroused by my forwardness.
“You better shut that pretty little mouth, honey, or I’ll give you something to stick in there,” I grinned. I put out my hand, half expecting her to right hook me in the face. “Coming?” I asked. She took it uncertainly, allowing me to help her up. I suppressed a laugh, not wanting to be rude, but I couldn’t believe that line had actually worked!
“Do I get to know your name?” she asked breathlessly. I smirked at her, not believing for a second she didn’t know who I was. Everyone knew who Jack Falcon was. Pretending not to recognize me was like pretending not to know who the Queen was.
“Does it matter?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
“I guess not,” she stammered, following me out the door. It always amazed me how easily they followed.
Chapter Two
My arm slipped around her waist as I led her inside the flat. She giggled, smiling at me coyly, swaying on her feet. I threw my jacket toward the sofa, missing it by a good distance.
“Can I get you a drink?” I asked my new friend. She shook her head, mumbling something about behaving. Smirking, I shook my head. Now she decided she should behave, after going home with someone she’d just met after drinking all night in a bar? Eyeing the selection of scotch on the top shelf of my bar, I chose a bottle of aged double malt. I dropped a few cubes of ice into a glass and poured myself what would be considered a quadruple in bar terms.
“You like your scotch,” she smiled, her left arm twisted around her back, clutching her right elbow. The maneuver stuck her chest out a little more and gave me a better look at her cleavage. She’d definitely more than do for the night.
“I love my scotch. There is nothing better than the feeling of that smooth, velvety liquid gold scorching the back of your throat as it slips down.” By the end of the sentence I was whispering softly in her ear. Her eyes widened, and she looked almost ready to orgasm then and there. I led her into my bedroom. With one finger, I undid the buttons on the top of her dress, exposing her black-and-white bra. She had an exceptional rack, and I fought hard to resist the urge to motorboat her. (Long story involving a set of twins with huge tits and way too much alcohol).
“This,” I said, tugging at her dress, “needs to go.” She giggled again, her nerves evident. I was sure somewhere in the back of her mind she was screaming ‘I’m about to sleep with Jack Falcon!’ I was happy to give her something to brag to her friends about.
She unzipped the back of her dress, letting it slide down her arms until it fell in a heap at her feet. Caught by surprise, she yelped as I grabbed her hand and spun her around until she lay flat on my bed. Unbuckling my pants, I kept my eyes locked to hers, knowing that girls love it when you make eye contact. It makes them feel like this whole thing is so much more than just sex.
“You’re beautiful,” I muttered, kicking my pants aside. My fingers trailed up her bare legs until they rested on the lacy edge of her panties. She smiled as I gently eased them down her thighs, continuing until they slipped past her ankles. Tossing them over my shoulder, I began kissing her, starting with her ankle, then slowly working my way up her leg. My eyes didn’t stray from hers, which made everything feel more erotic. She giggled, and just like that, the moment was broken.
What was up with all the fucking giggling? I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. She sounded like a fucking chihuahua, and it was starting to give me a headache.
As my mouth reached her knees, I spread them apart, and she breathed in as my lips worked their way along the soft skin of her inner thigh. Curling my hands around her hips, I reeled her in to where I knelt. My mouth was less than an inch from her wet pussy, so close that when I breathed, she jumped. I hooked her leg over my shoulder, my tongue teasing her and working her up. This girl was so hot for me she was almost sizzling.
Honestly, I avoid giving head wherever possible, but sometimes I’m just in a generous mood, like tonight. Spreading her legs even further apart, I gently licked along the thin strip of pubic hair that had been neatly waxed into place. I felt her hand latch onto the back of my head as she kindly fought the urge to shove my face into her cunt.
“Fuck,” she whispered, her free hand repeatedly banging on the empty bed beside her. I dipped my tongue inside her, sucking hard on her inner lips, loving the way they hardened against my tongue.
Though I don’t like to give head, it has nothing to do with me not enjoying it. Quite the opposite actually, because I love the feeling of my tongue roaming the most sensitive areas of a woman’s body. Most of the time it’s just pure laziness as to why I don’t reciprocate.
After a long day working, having a chick drop to her knees to suck my cock without having to so much as wink…why pay for a meal when they’re handing out samples for free? Anyway back to…hell, I didn’t even know her name.
She screamed as I roughly plunged my tongue inside of her, her legs wrapping themselves around my shoulders. Her hand, still locked in my hair, began to pull. The sudden pain only encouraged me because I knew she was close to climaxing, and the sooner she climaxed the sooner we could get back to me. I released my tongue so that only the tip was inside of her now, circling the spot that made her toes curl and her muscles stretch to the point of tearing,
“Oh fuck me!” she screamed. Her back arched as her body began to spasm, all while she tried to push my face away. “Stop, stop, stop!” she cried as I continued to tease her. I laughed, finally standing up. My cock was hard, as it had been since I’d started on her. Nothing quite like eating pussy to get the blood pumping.
I climbed onto the bed and rolled on a condom. Lying on my back, I grabbed her hips and lifted her on top of me. She gasped as she lowered herself onto my length. I smirked as she moaned, knowing instantly I’d hit the spot. There was a reason I was so popular with the ladies, and it had plenty to do with what I packed below the belt.
“Take your bra off,” I panted, rocking myself in rhythm with the beat of her hips. I watched as she reached behind her back and unclipped the bra, throwing it onto the bed. Her rounded breasts fell out, jiggling as she moved. One thing was for sure: she had a nice set of tits.
Pushing my feet onto the bed, I curved my arm around her back, flipping her beneath me. I contorted her body, bending her legs so far back they were almost behind her head. She made a noise that sounded like a cross between a cry and a laugh.
“You okay there?” I smirked, thrusting myself inside of her. She grunted in response, her expression suggesting she was on the verge of another orgasm. Without trying to sound cocky, it wasn’t unusual for women to orgasm three of four times when with me. Maybe I had the perfect shaped dick. Or maybe I just knew what to do with it.
My grip on her calf tightened as I felt the pressure build up inside of me. I closed my eyes and thought about Sally. Fuck she was hot, with her toned body and an ass that I just wanted to dive into.
&nbs
p; “Fuck yeah!” I panted, picturing her bent over and sucking my cock as my load spurted out in a rush. As soon as the job was done, I rolled off the bed, peeled the condom off my now limp dick and dropped it in the trash can. I glanced at her lying on my bed, all smiles, and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Any minute now…
My phone rang. Right on time—they didn’t lie when they said they were efficient.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hello. This is your wake-up call. Thank you for using our service…”
“Uh huh. Sure, I will be there soon.” I said, feigning concern as I pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt. “Sorry baby, family emergency,” I said. I forced myself to sound apologetic when all I really wanted to do was get home, take a shower, and go to sleep. Her face fell as I gathered my things.
“You’re welcome to stay the night,” I added. “I’ll call you.” I was out the door before she could reply, and before it could click for her I didn’t even have her number.
Chapter Three
Carly raised her eyebrows at me as I sauntered past her desk outside my office. As per usual I was hungover and I probably looked like shit. I made a face, warning her that all snide remarks today would be taken personally.
“Coffee?” she asked sweetly. Too sweetly. She was passively giving me shit and she knew that I knew it. I let it slide, and nodded, the call of caffeine too strong to resist.
“Extra strong, please. And maybe you could take that hot little ass of yours down to Clegil’s and get me some breakfast?”
She rolled her eyes at me and muttered something under her breath. Ignoring her, I strolled into my office and slammed the door.
Fuck. No more door slamming today, my fragile head chastised me. I opened the top drawer of my desk and pulled out a strip of painkillers. I took two, along with a gulp of water, praying it would do the trick and dull the pain quickly. I’d forgotten about my lunch meeting with my father. If there was one thing he had drilled into me, it was appearances meant everything to him.
Carly knocked on the door, then walked in carrying a bacon and egg wrap and a tall coffee. She sat them in front of me, parking her ass on the edge of my desk.
“Big night then?” she asked dryly. “Daddy won’t like that, will he?” she asked. I shot her a look. Carly was getting bolder by the day, like she thought our ‘relationship’ let her get away with the occasional dig at my lifestyle.
“Daddy won’t care so long as I’m closing the deals,” I shot back, unwrapping my breakfast. I took a bite, cursing as the gooey egg yolk oozed onto my shirt.
“Fuck!” I said, wiping it with a napkin, which only achieved in making the stain bigger. Carly jumped off my desk and dashed out of my office, returning a few seconds later with a fresh shirt. “Really?” I asked, my body relaxing. She had spare clothes on hand? I piled the wrap into my mouth as my stomach demanded more food, and loosened my tie.
“I’ve worked here long enough to know that it’s a good idea to keep a change of clothes here,” she laughed. “Of course, a food mishap wasn’t even on my radar.”
I downed the last of my coffee and stood up. “Am I going to have to smack some manners into you, Carly? Are you even aware that I’m your boss?” I asked, throwing the shirt at her. She rolled her eyes and handed me the clean one. I slipped it over my shoulders.
“What are you going to do, fire me?” she retorted. “You know I’d have a field day with a sexual harassment claim,” she laughed.
“It’s not harassment if you like it, Carly,” I said dryly.
“Yeah? Well here’s a tip for you. If you want an assistant who doesn’t talk back, then don’t fuck her.” She winked at me and walked out. I smiled in spite of myself, knowing I couldn’t argue with that.
***
Even through the insulated walls of my office I could hear Carly’s syrupy sweet voice singing out, followed by a giggle. My father must have arrived. It wasn’t by chance I acted the way I did: I was a product of my father. The perfect example of what poor parenting could do to a child. Opening the door, I greeted my father. He was right on time.
“Dad, come in,” I said. He followed me into the office, shutting the door behind him. He sat down, throwing a stack of papers on the desk. “What’s this?” I asked, flipping through them.
“I need you to close the casino deal. They’ve looked over the property a few times now and I think they just need a little push to sign.”
Closing the folder, I nodded. It was perfect timing, actually, because I was finalizing the Cemotto takeover this week. The old hotel was the perfect location for the new casino.
“Leave it with me. How have you been? Drink?” I asked.
“A bit early, isn’t it? Even for you,” Dad commented dryly.
“I meant a coffee,” I replied, narrowing my eyes. He shook his head, glancing at his watch. Like every other time we met, he had somewhere else to be. Everything was more important than spending time with me.
“No, I have to get going. How are you?” he added, almost as an afterthought. It was laughable just how bad he was at being a parent, and it was embarrassing how much I cared. When I was a teenager I went through a stage of acting out in order to get his attention, which landed me in hot water with the law. In order to avoid a criminal record I had agreed to therapy. My court-appointed shrink had plenty to work on when it came to my issues. Abandonment, hostility and anger toward my father, depression, and a fear of intimacy…And that was all from our first session.
My mum left when I’d just hit puberty, and my dad treated me with as much respect as something on the bottom of his shoe. He said it was no wonder I behaved the way I did. Therapy didn’t extend past the ten mandatory sessions and I’d never had any since. Unless you counted Alex’s multiple attempts to ‘shrink’ me. He did that a lot.
“I’m fine. Alex says hi, by the way,” I said. I hadn’t even spoken to my brother, but I couldn’t resist opportunity of making Dad feel uncomfortable—and nothing did that quite like the mention of Alex. He stiffened, my words cutting through him like a knife. He took a deep breath then left without as much as a goodbye.
***
“Hey you.” At least there was someone to meet me at the door when I got home from work.
Kneeling down, I ran my hand over Mr. Jefferies thick black coat as little strands of fur floated through the air, drifting downwards before landing on my pants. This was why I spent so much on dry-cleaning. That and my inability to eat an egg and bacon wrap without soiling myself. He purred anxiously and rubbed himself against my arm, angry at being left alone all day but happy to see me. The complexities of being a house cat.
I scooped him into my arms, tickling his chin as I carried him over to the sofa. His annoyance gave way to his craving for attention as he madly rubbed himself up against me, begging for more pats. He was good; it was like he knew I felt bad leaving him alone all the time, so he played that against me. Flicking on the television, I checked my messages.
Luke had called again to remind me of next week’s dinner. Fuck, he was persistent. The more he went on about this dinner, the more nervous I got. I had a feeling I knew what this was about, and if I was right, this dinner was going to suck big time.
I thought back to my meeting with Dad. What was supposed to have been a lunch meeting had lasted four-and-a-half minutes before he bailed. I should’ve been used to it by now, but no matter how often he disappointed me, it still hurt. Maybe Alex had the right idea: cutting all ties with him and leaving the country. He seemed happy, living it up with his girlfriend in Los Angeles.
Happier than me anyway.
I was big on pretending everything was great, but the truth was, more often than not I hated my life. I drank too much because it dulled the pain I felt when I thought about my parents, and I treated women like shit because it made me feel in control of something. Even my career was not something I had achieved—not according to Dad, anyway. He never let an opportunity slip by to remind me it was be
cause of him I had this lustrous lifestyle and amazing job, as if he could take it all away at any moment.
My life was a mess and I saw no way out of the hole I felt trapped in. I kept living my life the only way I knew how. Every day felt like the same never-ending downward spiral. I even resented Alex for leaving me alone to deal with my father—that’s how fucked up this shit was. Why was he able to get out, yet I was stuck here in this soul-destroying life?
Dialing Alex’s number, I waited impatiently as it rang. Finally, he answered.
“Jack. How are you?” he said, sounding pleased to hear from me. I always called in the evenings because it was the only time I could be sure he’d be awake.
“Not bad, how are you?” I asked, pushing the cat out of the way so I could sit back down. No sooner than my ass had touched the leather fabric of the couch he was purring in my lap. I stroked his chin gently.
“Yeah I’m good. Work keeps me busy, but it pays the bills,” he chuckled. “So what’s happening back there? Has my older brother got himself a girl yet?”
“You know me, I’ve got many girls. None of them special though,” I laughed. Alex was obsessed with me finding a woman. Every time we spoke he asked me the same question, even though the answer never changed. Younger than me by two years, you’d be forgiven for thinking he was the older of us. Levelheaded and focused, he’d done whatever he needed to achieve his goals. Sure, I was great at getting what I wanted, but Alex did it with poise and respect. People liked my brother, whereas they were intimidated by me.
It scared me sometimes how alike my father and I were.
