And I wanted it a lot. We’d been going at it day in, day out, and most nights too. I’d looked forward to her visit last night but when she didn’t show, I didn’t call either. I figured the little girl was tired, I’d pounded her for hours the night before and she needed a bit of rest, needed to let that curvy body relax and recuperate before our next hot session.
But when I walked into my office not twelve hours later, the woman flew at me like a banshee, accusing me of all sorts of shit. Now I admit, I’m no angel. I’ve banged a lot of women, I’m familiar with females and don’t hesitate to take the prettiest of the bunch, avail myself of a big heap of tasty twat and ass. But I hadn’t been with anyone since Tammy, in fact I hadn’t even thought of anyone since the brunette came into my life.
Because Tammy was astonishingly receptive, curvaceous, curious and intelligent. She was everything I needed. Everything, and I had the ring in my pocket to make it permanent. Oh yeah, it was a whopper, seven carats bought with seven figures, and I wanted to look into her eyes as I slid it onto her finger on bended knee, kiss her as a smile lit up her face.
Except the opposite had happened. Instead, the brunette had launched herself at me like a crazed hyena, screaming, crying, accusing me of all sorts of shit. And yeah, there was the underwear on the floor but I swear, I have no idea where it came from. Honestly, I thought it was hers, she was the only one I’d touched recently, the only woman whose panties I’d want to smell, wrap around my pole, spurt my jizz into. So I’d genuinely thought they belonged to my beautiful girl.
But as I picked them up from the floor of my office, everything became clear. Instead of the clean, musky scent of Tammy’s pussy, a cloying island tropical odor emanated from the lace, making me choke and cough, it was so disgustingly sugary.
“Jeanette!” I roared, anger mottling my face, my big frame tense with repressed rage.
And when the blonde waltzed in, I didn’t hold back.
“Get out and take your shit with you,” I raged, throwing the underwear at her. It landed on her head, perched crazily on her updo, making her look like an inmate from an insane asylum.
“You can’t fire me,” she smiled lazily. “I still have my insurance, remember? The lace bodystocking with your saliva on it.”
But I’d had enough.
“Try it, bitch,” I growled, my hands opening and closing into fists at my side, I wanted to throttle her so badly. “Try it.”
“Are you threatening me?” she replied, mock scared, her face a caricature of fear. “Oh, the big man is threatening me, this is grounds for a lawsuit too.”
And I didn’t even say anything. Instead, I physically picked her up and dumped her outside my office, not caring who saw, leaving the blonde in a jumble on the floor, slamming my door in her face. I could hear her still even through the thick wood, chanting “Lawsuit, lawsuit, sexual harassment!”
But it was time to stick to my guns. Because I’d spent the last year gathering evidence of her conniving ways, my lawyers talking with past victims, slowly building a case painting Jeanette as the amoral, scheming slut she was. And finally we were done, we had enough to make it open and shut, no way no how was any jury going to believe that blonde bitch.
So still shaking with rage, I got on the phone.
“Harris?” I growled. “Sue the bitch.”
Because we weren’t fucking around. No way were we going to sit on our asses trembling with fear as Jeanette took the reins. Instead, we were striking pre-emptively and lodging our own complaint first. That’s right, Nick Martin and Luxor Corp. were suing Jeanette Crawford for blackmail, extortion, as well as a host of other shit. My attorney was walking to the courthouse even now, the papers in his briefcase. Shock and awe tactics is what I call it, strike first and scare them so bad that they become rabbits, scurrying back into their tunnel, begging for mercy. Because who do you think’s going to win? Nick Martin and Luxor, with billions at our fingertips and an iron-clad case, that’s who.
So I smiled grimly, my work done for the moment.
Except that still left the question of my best girl and the ring burning a hole in my pocket. I hurt, I really did from the false accusations. Tammy hadn’t given me a chance to explain anything, to clear things up, to even talk. So slowly, I got out the diamond and put it on my desk. I needed to think about things more, process the incredible events of the day before I went after my little girl … for keeps.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tammy
I huddled in the cold of my apartment. Despite the fact that it was only fall in New York, the Bronx apartment had no heating or hot water and I wasn’t surprised that the hovel was freezing inside.