Zane

by Liv Bennett

  That and her loud moans. I’d consider taking her as my lover if I hadn’t been already dealing with a couple of dozen.

  The tightness of her ass around my shaft makes it hard for me to prolong my erection, but I owe her at least an orgasm for offering her ass to me, not to mention that Teresa got two. Moving my hand down, I press my fingers against Beverly’s clit and rub it first gently then intensify the pressure. In a matter seconds, she climaxes in my hand, her even louder moans echoing against the four walls of the large suite.

  I hear Teresa chuckling while my eyes close, my own climax only a few pumps away. Holding Beverly’s hips with both hands, I thrust harder into her and explode inside the condom, feeling my heart beating against my ears.

  As soon as the last drip of sperm is out, my attraction to the two girls hits bottom, and a feeling of disgust surfaces. I slip out of Beverly and walk to the trash can, get the condom off and throw it into the can.

  I consider hopping into the bathtub for a quick shower, but the girls look eager not to leave it with only one round, and I’d rather not fuck someone whose name I’ll forget in an hour, for a second time, so I only wash my hands and hurry to put on my clothes.

  “Enjoy the suite for the day and order whatever you want. It’s on me,” I say as I walk toward the door without even looking back to see what they’re up to. I hear them saying goodbye and close the door.

  Twenty minutes of fun with two beautiful girls without any strings attached. That’s exactly how a satisfying sexual encounter should be, except for the feeling of disgust that’s ruining my good mood. I didn’t have it before Lindsay. Gone are the days I used to just feel good and carry on with my daily life after a good round of sex.

  I guess it’s the curse of falling in love with the wrong woman…or falling in love altogether.

  CH 2 - On the Market

  ~

  Julie stands as I enter her office. She’s not just my secretary but also my long-time accomplice in my successful effort to rid myself of my father and take over the reins of Hawkins Media Group. Clad in a long, black skirt-suit, she holds her black cup of coffee in her hand, her eyebrows tightly pulled together into an angry furrow.

  I don’t remember the last time she had a different color on, perhaps before my mother’s death more than a decade ago? But at that time, I didn’t care enough about her to even notice what she was wearing. Over the years she’s become such a big part of my professional and private life, she’s practically irreplaceable. Hawkins Media Group could survive without me running it, but without Julie, it wouldn’t even make it a full year.

  “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t decline my calls,” she says in her usual feverish way. “Brad had an urgent matter to discuss with you about the next episode’s scenario. Apparently, one of the writers went into labor last night, and we need to find a replacement for her very quickly.” She doesn’t sound pleased by my rudely declining her calls; obviously, but there’s something else, something out of the ordinary beneath her anger.

  My eyes traveling over her face up to the tight bun on the top of her head, I slip my hands into the pockets of my pants. “What about the other writers on the team? Ask them to work overtime to compensate for the lost hours. They won’t be the first team to work a few extra hours in the entertainment industry.” The only reason I’m yelling at her, rather than speaking softly is because she’s one of the few women I know, who won’t collapse on their desk in tears, but rather push my buttons for a heated discussion.

  And, as expected, she narrows her eyes at me in an angrier fashion, sizing me up and down, although clearly, I’m her boss, and my power is absolute. “You’re probably not aware of the tiny little fact that they’re already working a hundred hours a week and not getting paid for their extra work.”

  “Well, then pay them for the extra hours so they’ll shut up and do their work properly.”

  “Sir, with all due respect, I seriously think we need to hire one or two more writers. With their workload, the current writers will burn out very soon, and we’ll lose the momentum of the series. I have already identified three candidates and can schedule an interview with them for this afternoon.” She grabs a file from her desk and extends it to me.

  Smiling, I shake my head, ignoring the file she’s holding before my face. “Since when do you call me sir?”

  Her cheeks blush, perhaps for the first time in the seventeen years that I’ve known her, making my grin grow wider. “Zane,” she corrects her mistake and adds, “You should really take a look at the profiles of the candidates and interview them as soon as possible.”

  “Nah. I’ll pass. You interview them.”

  Her eyebrows raise in excitement; her lips part in surprise. “Really?”

  “Come on! You’ve been my right arm through thick and thin against my father. You can manage a dull interview now, can’t you?”

  “Of course, I can. I just didn’t think you’d trust me with those issues.”

  I smirk and walk toward my office door. “You clearly don’t know how much I trust you. I could practically leave the entire corporation to you, and I have no doubt you’d run it as well as I do.” Perhaps even better, but she doesn’t need to know that.

  Looking over my shoulder as I open the door to my office, I see her smile in confidence. “Can you get me a cup of coffee?”

  Her good mood sours visibly as she looks at me with a disappointed expression.

  I laugh. “Just kidding. I’ll drink scotch. Want to join me?”

  “Zane, please don’t do that. With the amount of alcohol you’re consuming, you’re going to end up becoming an alcoholic. Don’t do it to yourself.” She plops into her chair when I walk into my office without responding to her worry-filled warning.

  Of course, she’s right, but I have yet to figure out any other way to get over the pain. So I drink to make it go away…even if it works only for a moment.

  Confused about how I’ll pass the morning without liqueur clouding my mind, I settle on my chair and notice the pile of magazines I’m sure Julie set out for me. Picking up one, I study the cover featuring a picture of Penelope and me on it.

  “Zane Hawkins, the CEO and the owner of Hawkins Media Group, is officially dating to marry,” says the title of the LA Celebrity News magazine.

  Rolling my eyes at the utter craziness of the possibility of me marrying, I flip through the pages and find the article to read it to see what bullshit the creative journalist came up with about me this time.

  After two years of on-again-off-again romance with the actress Penelope Davis, Zane Hawkins is now ready to settle down. Multiple sources confirm that it’s the recent death of his father, Michael Hawkins, that made him re-think his bachelor lifestyle and consider starting a family of his own.

  I chuckle, despite the irritation I get every time I’m reminded of my father, and call out for Julie.

  “Have you read this bullshit?” I ask although I have no doubt she has not only read and memorized each line written about me in the media, but also carefully reviewed the piece for its appropriateness before its publication. She’s a perfectionist when it comes to her job, but one of her best qualities is she never leaves a misbehaving journalist or blogger unpunished. I think she gets extra satisfaction from having the company attorney send out cease-and-desist orders almost as much as she enjoys bothering me.

  Still holding her cup of coffee, she steps into my office and slides elegantly into the chair before my desk, her face brightly lit with a sly smile “Bullshit? You’re breaking my heart. What’s bullshit about it?”

  “Everything. None of it is true.”

  “Oh. Would you have rather it said ‘after his recent failure to win the heart of the girl he loved and consequently losing her to his brother, Zane is fucking everything with a hole to mend his broken heart?’”

  I chuckle to keep my cool and also to show her I’m not affected by her words, although they’re nothing but the truth. “I should have
never told you anything about Lindsay.” Even voicing her name tightens my chest in pain, and the thought of the loving looks she gives to Ace floods through my mind.

  Julie’s smile gives way to a warm, yet sad, expression. “You didn’t need to tell me—I knew it before you even realized you were falling for her.”

  “Really?” Can’t a man have a few secrets to himself?

  She nods and sips her coffee.

  I pick another random magazine from among the pile of nonsense and read the title on the cover. “Five Things Zane Hawkins is Looking for in a Wife.” I read it out loud and lift my gaze to her, trying my best not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the title. “Do you know the five things I’m looking for in a wife, too?”

  She covers her mouth with a hand while chuckling. “That was just to increase the ratings of Frat House, and I admit, it was a lot of fun coming up with the bullet points.”

  I scan the article before me, shaking my head at the complete absurdity of each point that supposedly represents my requirements for a woman who would carry my name. “She should be able to cook and bake. Really? That’s the number one requirement? Not fantastic oral skills or possession of a great booty?”

  She rolls her eyes at me disapprovingly. “Great oral skills or some fat ass won’t feed your children. And please don’t tell me you have the iron chef cooking your meals for you. Nothing beats food cooked with love. Would you want your future kids to eat food cooked by their mom or by some restaurant chef?”

  Without commenting on her valid argument, I proceed to the second point in the article. “She should believe in God. That can’t be real. I don’t even remember the last time I went to church.”

  “During your mother’s funeral,” she reminds me and adds. “I didn’t come up with this one, I promise. It was your mom’s idea.”

  “My mom’s? My dead mom’s idea?”

  “Yeah, well. She made me promise her a variety of things before…you know…she took her own life. And one of the promises was that I’d help you find a truly God-fearing woman for a wife.”

  “What else did she make you promise?”

  She bites her lower lip. “I’d rather not say.”

  Any conversation regarding my mother and her death by suicide is off limits, which is why I continue with the article rather than pushing Julie to spill her secrets. “Unselfish, undemanding and independent. Finally something I’d value in a woman.”

  “I’m glad I could get you to agree on at least one point.”

  “She should be one hundred percent loyal to me. This one is absolutely true, but it should actually be the number one requirement. She should be loyal to me as a man and as a partner in life.”

  Julie’s lips curl up and part in a broad smile, contentment and pride apparent in her face. “Gosh, I so knew you’d say that.” She stands, walking around my desk, and stops next to me, glancing down at the magazine in my hands.

  I freeze for a moment as the scent of her perfume hits me. Honeysuckle.

  Her perfume is the only feminine quality she has, and each time I get to smell it, my body stills momentarily and I’m reminded of the fact that she’s not just some employee or a good friend, but also a woman with breasts and a vagina beneath her unflattering clothes.

  “Why don’t you for once wear something sexy?” I ask, completely forgetting about the context of my relationship with her.

  Her face turns sad in an instant, and her eyes fall on the desk. “You wouldn’t ask me that question if you knew about the things your father forced me to do.”

  My whole body tenses, my hands ball into fists, and I want to hit myself for reminding her of the evil things my father did to her. I’m well aware of the things she had to go through as my father’s assistant for all those years, but I have no idea why she’s stayed for so long. Was that also a part of her promise to my mother?

  “I’m very sorry.” I turn my head down to the magazine to change the subject and hopefully to make her forget about the painful past. “Be sexually open-minded,” I read the last item and laugh. “That’s my girl!” I shout with an extra note of cheerfulness to distract her. “You indeed know me well.”

  “You work as a gigolo at Pleasure Extraordinaire. I figured you’d be a total waste of time for a virgin or a prude.”

  Ah yes, my part-time work at the brothel that caters to sweet, sexual and extremely horny women from all around the country. The place that widens my horizons about women. Not just fashion models or movie actresses, but I get to enjoy a large variety of women, anything from bored housewives and CEO’s to cougars, Latinas…you name it.

  Prostitutes can get me only so far, and I’ve always been suspicious of the random women who throw themselves at me. They aren’t that different from prostitutes, at least most of them. Who knows if it’s me and my body that get their panties wet or the inheritance I received from my father, or the doors they hope I might open for them—the doors to the big screen, perhaps?

  That paranoia of mine dissolves into thin air the moment I step into the magical world of Pleasure Extraordinaire which is filled with delightful surprises. The women I get to know there never disappoint, neither with their intentions to go under me, nor with their high performance. I can’t wait to indulge myself in one soon.

  Julie draws in a long breath of air and lands her eyes on me, still looking bothered. “Now that you know you’re officially looking for a wife to marry, I’ll set up a list of appropriate women for you to date, but feel free to let me know if you have someone special in mind that you want to get to know.” She pauses and locks her eyes on mine, looking as if she’s expecting me to come up with a name this instant.

  “Ahhh,” I mumble, still trying to soak in the idea of marriage. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Realistically speaking, I won’t marry, and even if I do by some miracle, I’m not born to be a monogamous man. I love women as in plural.”

  “No man is born to be monogamous. It’s what you choose to become for the woman you love and the family you will form. Look, you’re pushing thirty-three. The quality of your sperm is diminishing each passing day, and you’re wasting your good sperm on flings and one-night stands, rather than making babies and continuing your legacy.”

  “Excuse me! My sperm is in perfect shape,” I correct her, rather insulted by her insinuation. No one has the right to offend my manhood, not even Julie.

  She exhales loudly as if trying to keep herself from arguing with my statement. “I promised your mother I’d take care of Chloe, Ace, and you. Both Chloe and Ace have found their partners and neither need my help anymore. You’re the only burden on my shoulders. You have to find a wife and start a family so I can complete my mission and start my own life. I’m tired of babysitting you.”

  “I don’t need you taking care of me. I’m a grown man in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “I don’t care.” She takes a step closer to me, her eyebrows pulled together, her eyes narrowed. “Irene was one of the very few people who positively impacted my life and I won’t turn my back on her by breaking my promise. You’ll find an appropriate woman and marry her by the end of the year, even better if you can knock her up within the first few months of your marriage…” She lifts her hand and points her index finger at me “…or so help me I’ll ruin your reputation so badly no woman will ever want to so much as touch you.”

  “Spare your energy. Nothing you can say or do will convince me.” I push my chair back with my feet to keep a safe distance between us.

  “Oh, yeah? How about this? Thirty years from now. You will be sixty-two and won’t be in the best shape to run a billion-dollar company. Who do you think will take over control? Who will be the next owner and CEO of Hawkins Media Group? Let me answer it for you. One of Ace’s children. Is that what you what? You lost the woman you loved to Ace. Do you really want to lose the legacy of HMG to his offspring as well? Think about it for a moment.”

  She might be right. I never wanted him to be part of my
family, and I’ll do everything I can to keep his children from taking over the company my own father founded. I might have hated Michael for a variety of reasons, but I won’t deny his hard work and the sacrifices he made to make the company what it is today.

  I let out a long breath of defeat and shrug my acceptance. Julie is right. I need a beautiful, sexy and honorable woman to bear and raise my children, and I need her now!

  Julie’s angry face turns into a scary kind of happy in a heartbeat. “Good! I’ll email you the list.”

  CH 3 - On the Edge

  ~

  The smile of disbelief remains on my lips long after Julie returns to her desk.

  Me, married?

  Taking care of a family and tiny human beings?

  I snort. It doesn’t sound like something a man with my money and killer looks should take upon himself. I’d rather have one of my previous lovers show up with a child of mine and claim child support than have to go through the ordeal of being a husband. That would seriously be a last-ditch attempt to secure the future of my company.

  However, in all honesty, the women I’ve slept with aren’t exactly mother-quality and would raise a child in less than stellar conditions. I don’t claim to have the potential to become a great father, but I have the resources, a.k.a. money, to have them raised in qualified hands and send them to the best schools.

  I find myself agreeing with the qualities Julie came up with for the woman who’d mother my child, or perhaps children, mentally adding the requirement that the passion continue. But she’s a fool if she thinks I’ll seriously consider personally putting myself in the prison of monogamy and exclusivity. I might as well move into federal prison.

  Longingly, I eye the bottles of liquor lined up neatly on the coffee table in the seating area in the corner. If I’ll indeed be a father, alcohol shouldn’t have a place in my life, or at least not as much of one as it’s had these past months.