The Panty Whisperer: The Complete Series

by Sloane Howell

  My elbow drops and I quickly recover from the awkwardness as I lean my arm toward a non-existent armrest.

  Damn it.

  It's like he ordered these chairs for the sole purpose of making me uncomfortable. His hair is lined with a few silver streaks, but he appears much younger than someone in their mid-forties. I spot a few trophies on a little table to my right up against the window. They're advertising awards our company has won. They have their own table so he's definitely proud of them.

  "Don't be nervous. You're not in trouble."

  Thank god.

  The coffee cup warms my hand as I grab it and take a sip. "What's going on?"

  He looks me up and down again. Everyone knows he's very religious so I'm not too worried that he's checking me out, or wants to fuck me on his desk.

  "I need someone to travel a little. Do some speaking for the company. Would you be interested in something like that?"

  My heart leaps through my chest. It's a great opportunity, and the timing couldn't be more perfect. I have to stop myself from jumping up and hugging him.

  Play it cool.

  "What type of speaking?" First rule in negotiations, never show your hand. Always ask questions and know the terms.

  "Just presenting a few companies with our services. Telling them what we're all about. Also, giving presentations at corporate headquarters. I think you'd be good at that. You're likeable."

  "Thank you, Sir. I mean, it sounds like a great opportunity. I'm definitely interested."

  "Perfect. I'll get the wheels in motion then."

  I get up and start to leave.

  "Quinn?"

  "Yes, Sir?"

  "Everything okay? With work? Life?"

  I lose my breath for a brief moment. I'm not sure what to say. He's always so distant and rarely leaves the office unless there's a problem or he's meeting with clients.

  "Yeah. Everything is great." It's a lie, and I know he can practically sense my troubles.

  "Sorry. I'm just. I like to let people do their thing. Let their creativity shine. But I've been working on relating to people in a personal way. I apologize if that was awkward for you."

  I smile to set him at ease. "No, it's fine. I love working here, Sir. Thank you for the opportunity."

  "Great. I'll have Sylvia get with you on the details then."

  "Sounds good."

  I want to start dancing, but I maintain my composure. I can't wait to tell Megan. This is perfect. It's a way to take my mind off of things. A way to take my mind off of him.

  JOEL

  PAIN RIPS THROUGH me as I stare at Mom. Tommy's arm wraps around me. The chapel is silent as I kiss her on the forehead and say goodbye. I honestly thought it'd be more difficult. I'm numb to everything when I stare at her. My brain refuses to process she's gone, forever.

  I look to Tommy and nod. Tears stream down his cheeks onto his suit. I'm regretting not having Quinn there. I loosen my tie, and my hands ball into fists, heat rushes into my face. I see Megan's hand on Tommy's back, and I lose it. I look to Mom one last time and put my hand on hers. When I touch her, I realize it isn't really her. It's just an empty shell of what was once the most vibrant thing in my life.

  I turn and storm down the aisle and into the lobby. I want to be anywhere but here. I'm not religious, but I curse god just in case his sorry ass is real. All the stupid, horrible motherfuckers in the world, and he takes the gem out of the cesspool that surrounds me. I hate him. I hate everything. I have to take my mind off things.

  Tommy walks out and wraps his arms around me. He's shaking, as am I. "I'm sorry, man."

  I can barely make out his voice muffled against my shoulder, and I slap him on the back a couple of times, harder than I normally would.

  He looks up at me, and I nod, wiping the tears from my face. We walk out to the car, and Megan follows. She insists on driving us. I don't mind one bit. I want to bury my mother and put it all behind me.

  Megan gets in to drive us to the cemetery. Tommy climbs in the front with her. In the backseat, I break out a bottle of scotch and take a huge swig. It should burn going down, but it doesn't. A train could smack into me, and I wouldn't feel a goddamn thing. I hand the bottle to Tommy, and he reluctantly takes a pull off of it.

  "You should take it easy man."

  I glare at him, and he knows to back off. I'd do anything to take my mind off Mom right now. Tommy shifts around in the front seat. Megan does too. I don't normally get angry, ever really.

  "Are you going to be okay with everyone coming over after?" I catch Megan's eyes staring at me in the rear-view mirror. Tommy looks at her like she's insane for asking me questions. Her gaze cuts right through the hate in my heart and tears blur my vision.

  "I don't know." I break down and lose my shit right there. Tears rush into my eyes, and I begin to weep, so hard that I struggle to breathe. I hear Megan open the driver's side door, and she comes around to my side, rips the door open, and crushes me with a hug.

  "It gets easier. I promise." I try to look at her but everything looks like a funhouse mirror.

  "How do you know?"

  She sighs. "I lost my parents too. A long time ago."

  I wipe my eyes and see Tommy holding back tears. Megan is focused on me, Tommy on her. Apparently, this is news to him.

  "You never said anything."

  "Yeah. I didn't know that either." Tommy stares at her, and she glances to him and looks back to me.

  She grips me by the shoulders. "It is and always will be hard to talk about. Okay? But you learn to manage it. It just takes time. I promise. That dagger in your stomach gets less painful every day. You start to remember the good times and you focus less on the end."

  "Okay." I nod.

  "Okay." She runs her hand up Tommy's cheek and wipes a tear from his eye. "Your mom isn't in that body anymore, but she's watching you. It breaks her heart when she sees you two in pain. The same as if she was still here and you were hurting. Just think of one of the thousands of good moments you had with her while you say goodbye. It will still hurt worse than anything you've ever felt. But it will help."

  She reaches down and takes the bottle from my hand and sets it in the front seat. "That won't give you peace. I tried. It doesn't work."

  "Okay." I nod at her again.

  "Good."

  She shuts the door and walks back around to the driver's side. Tommy leans over the seat and stares at me. His hand squeezes my forearm. His eyes tell me everything he wants to say. When Megan gets in the car, he turns his face to her. "I love you." He looks back to me. "Both of you."

  "I love you too," says Megan.

  "I love you too, baby girl." I grin at him through the tears.

  "Come here you." He leans over the back seat and gives me a big bear hug. "We'll get through this." His words are a whisper in my ear.

  I nod once more. "Okay."

  People are everywhere in Mom's house—staring at pictures, telling old stories about her. It still hurts, but Megan's words resonate and give me some hope of comfort. I wish Quinn was here. I'm such a goddamn idiot sometimes.

  Tommy walks up and hands me a beer. Mom would never approve, but it's our last act of rebellion in her house. I can practically hear her voice in my head. "Herbert and Thomas, I will pepper your asses if you take one more sip of that devil juice in my house."

  Tommy must be having a similar thought, because I see a wry smile spread across his face. He looks down to his beer. "She would fuck us up good for this."

  I clank my bottle into his. "Yeah, she certainly would. Wouldn't she?"

  Megan keeps looking over at us. I don't think she's too excited about us drinking, but at least it's not whiskey.

  "Mom sure made an impact on a lot of people, didn't she?" I stare around at the sea of people crammed in the tiny house.

  "How could she not, man? She was larger than life. That lady was a fucking saint. I'm going to miss her so much."

  The waterworks are about to start u
p again. I can see his eyes misting. Fuck. It's so goddamn hard. I down my beer and head for another. My face tingles, and I feel a buzz coming on. I'm certain it's the whiskey I pounded in the car.

  I walk to the fridge and lean over to pull another beer from it. A pair of tan legs pass in front of my face in a black skirt. I don't recognize them and I never forget a pair of legs that reach for the sky like these.

  I lift my head to see the rest of what she's working with, and I'm not disappointed at all. I just hope she isn't a family member. A pair of nice-sized tits wrapped up tight in black fabric meet my gaze. She has curled, blonde hair that drapes down her shoulder line.

  "Hi." Her blue eyes lock onto me.

  The cold beer is numbing my hand as I stand up to properly introduce myself. "Hi. Don't think we've met."

  We shake hands.

  "Bridget. Your mom helped me through some difficult times once. My condolences to you and your family. She talked about you all the time." She flips her hair back, and my cock springs into action against my zipper. She grins. An evil grin. I know this grin well. It's an "I want to fuck you" grin.

  "Hopefully she said good things."

  What is wrong with you, Joel? Getting a hard-on in your mother's house when you just buried her?

  It has to be the fucking booze. It's playing tricks with my inhibitions.

  "Mostly good." She giggles, and my dick grows harder at the sound.

  She's gorgeous, but as usual Quinn is on my mind again. I take another drink and try to erase her from my thoughts. I can tell this girl isn't the usual churchgoer. I'm a bit flustered at Mom hiding her from me, but I can understand why. I'm sure she was vulnerable whenever she helped her through whatever problems she had.

  Bridget nibbles on a fingernail. "She certainly didn't lie when she said her son was handsome."

  She licks her lips and twirls her hair. Goddamn this girl. Maybe she's what I need to take my mind off of Mom and Quinn. I see Tommy and Megan eyeing me from across the room. Tommy cracks half a smile that disappears the second Megan looks up at him. She says something in his ear. He nods and starts toward me.

  I appreciate everything Megan said in the car. She's a good person and great for Tommy. But I don't forget that she's Quinn's best friend. She has a vested interest in stopping me from fucking some strange, and it has nothing to do with what's best for me.

  I turn to Bridget. "I need to take my mind off of things. You wanna get out of here?" I turn to Bridget and her "fuck me" eyes are already undressing me.

  "You really should stay, but I'll give you my number. Call me later and we can hang out."

  She's right. I need to stay and make sure to thank everyone for coming, even though we've been here for four hours already. "I definitely will."

  She finds a pen and scribbles her number on a napkin, then walks off through the front door. Megan stares lasers that I'm worried might incinerate Bridget like Scorpion's finishing move.

  Toasty!

  Tommy strolls up to give me a rehearsed speech, in order to appease Megan.

  "No, no, Whisperer, just no. Bad fucking idea, bro."

  I'm still watching Bridget avoid Scorpion's attempt at a fatality. "I don't know what you're talking about. She just wants to hang out."

  "Is that what the kids call it these days?" He stares at me and moves in closer, bugging his eyes out, before stepping back and nodding. "Yep. You gonna fuck her. You're going to fuck that poor girl. That poor, poor innocent girl gonna get fucked tonight. She sure is."

  "Poor? There's nothing poor about what I'll do to Bridget later." I slap him on the shoulder, and he feigns a look of irritation in Megan's direction. He shrugs and walks back over to her. I see him mouth "I tried" at her.

  Anxiety riddles my stomach. This has probably already gotten back to Quinn. Fucking gossip queens. I have frustrations that need to be relieved though. Bridget looks like she can comfort me perfectly. Quinn still sits at the front of my mind, and I plan to remedy that.

  Soon.

  I pull up in front of Bridget's house. The fastback is roaring under the hood, and I can feel her vibrations in the whites of my knuckles. It's a quiet street so I'm sure Bridget heard me pull up. I can practically feel her panties getting wet, staring out the window and looking at the Mustang.

  My buzz has worn off considerably after all the heartfelt goodbyes. Guilt is taking over my body, but the image of Bridget in that black dress keeps me from abandoning our little hang out session.

  A fresh knife plunges into my stomach as I near her porch. When I hit the last step of her stairs, the door opens and she's standing there in a black lacy teddy. My dick nearly explodes in my fucking pants. Bridget takes notice.

  "Well, we can't be wasting that out here."

  When I near the door she grabs me by my tie and yanks me into the house, slamming the door shut behind us.

  JOEL

  TOMMY IS SHAKING his head too much for comfort as I walk up to him at the bar top.

  "What?" I ask.

  "Nothing, man. Didn't say a damn thing, bro."

  "Megan tell Quinn?"

  He stares at me like I'm an idiot. "Herbert, I just wanna shake the ever-loving shit out of you sometimes. Quinn knew the second she walked by you and you poked your little head, yes I mean both of them, up like a turtle coming out of his shell. Megan tell Quinn? Fucking Michelangelo over here. You didn't learn shit from Splinter, did you? Fucking honorary Foot Clan member."

  "It wasn't like that."

  His eyes are about to pop out of his head. "Just save it, bitch. You're making my life oh so complicated. You're lucky you're a hot piece of man meat."

  "But—"

  "Don't!" He bugs his eyes at me again.

  "I—"

  "I said don't." He talks so damn fast I can't get out a word and his puffed out cheeks are trying not to laugh. His eyes open wider.

  "Look—"

  "You are terrible at this game, Sir. I said don't!" He's on the verge of an aneurysm.

  "Fine. You are such a persistent prick. You know that? What the fuck is new?"

  He looks away. So smart to have such an obvious tell. He's withholding information.

  "What is it?"

  "Nothing." He won't look at me, and now I have to know.

  His voice gets all high pitched. He's nervous. "You see the new Force Awakens trailer? If Abrams doesn't bury that goddamned Binks clown I will murder him, Herbert. I will fuck his Facebook page with the fury of 1,000 angry porn dicks, by god!"

  "Tell me what you're going to tell me." I inch closer to him.

  He shakes his head. "Didn't work. Did it? Changing the subject. You can't be persuaded to the dark side?"

  "Tell me. I know you want to. Join me, Thomas."

  He looks away.

  "Thomas, look at me." I'm the one bugging my eyes now.

  He turns back to me and cackles. "Your Jedi mind tricks won't work on me, Sir. I am enslaved by the pussy of one Megan, much like Leia tied to the likes of a forty-ton gila monster. I am a Jedi, like my father before me."

  I crouch down in his face. "So be it, Jedi. And now young Skywalker, you will die."

  "Fine, man goddamn!"

  I grin huge.

  He glares back at me. "Quinn's leaving town. She's going to speak at some bullshit conference for their company. And it could be permanent if she does well." He gasps like he's been holding his breath for hours.

  My heart drops into my stomach. Pain rips through my bones at his words, but I compose myself. "Good for her. I'm sure it'll be good for her career." I look around and want to rip the walls off this building and burn it to the ground.

  "I'm sorry, man."

  "For what?"

  He looks up at the bartender and orders two scotches, then tosses me a look like I'm clueless and want to copy his calculus homework. "I'm sorry."

  I give in and stare down at the ground. "It's okay, buddy. It's not like it's a hundred percent sure thing she's leaving forever, right?"
/>
  "Yeah, well. I don't know. I wish you two would stop being idiots. Everyone can see it but the two of you." He stares out the window.

  I want to change the subject, but my thoughts are flying back and forth like a Blue Angels air show. "It's too late, man. Yeah, I love her. But I fucked it up. Can we all please move on?"

  His face tightens and his jaw clenches, grinding his teeth together.

  Guilt pummels my abs with a right cross.

  "You didn't fuck it up, man. You could still have her. You're just too much of a pussy to do anything about it." He slams his fist on the counter, rattling all the glasses down the bar, then turns and walks toward the door.

  "Dude, what the fuck? What do you care anyway? Sorry I'm not making things convenient for you and Megan." I squeeze my glass of scotch so hard I'm worried it might break.

  He pauses for a second, then turns back around and walks over to me. His hands are clenched into fists. I don't know that either one of us has ever been in a fight, so I don't know what the fuck to do. He gets up in my face. "Don't pull your little mind fuck bullshit on me. Trying to make it seem like I'm looking out for me. I want you to be happy." He sighs and puts a hand on my shoulder.

  Thank god. Us fighting would've been embarrassing. Our technique, not the actual action.

  "That girl you're letting get away is the one. And this is the only fucking shot you got at her."

  His words hit me in the chest, but I'm too proud to admit he's right, as usual. Naturally, I make light of the situation. It's just what we do. "Five hundred fights, that's the number I figured when I was a kid."

  "Knockaround Guys, nice. Very obscure, Sir. I bet Vin Diesel slays more ass than ol' Herbert even."

  "You're high as fuck."

  We both laugh.

  Tommy puts a hand on my shoulder. "I always got your back, man. Before my own."

  "I know." I look away.

  "Look at me, man."