Lyra Parish - Weak for Him

"Don't say I never fucking gave you anything. Now get out."

"You are such an asshole."

"That's Mr. Asshole to you."

I pulled up my big-girl-who-just-had-an-orgasm-in-her-boss's-office panties and swooshed my messy curls to the side as I buttoned my pants. The room was suffocating and I couldn't breathe.

When I made it to the elevator all I could do was call him an asshole repeatedly. Fucking asshole, asshole, asshole!

On the fifth floor, Jesse stepped into the elevator, and when the door shut, she laughed. Not a genuine one, but rather an evil bitch laugh. The type of laugh that only she could conjure from the pits of hell.

"What?" I asked smugly.

"You're wearing a J.B.F face."

"J.B.F?"

"Seriously? Just been fucked , dumbass, and you smell like sex."

I crossed my legs and could feel the wetness in my panties.

When the glass elevator doors opened, all I wanted to do was burst through the lobby and never look back. But wait, people actually smelled like sex? And she could smell it? Either way, I was convinced that everyone in that building were nothing more than giant assholes.

Anger coated me as realization set in. I had given that womanizing dickhead the pleasure of giving me my first orgasm.

Damn it!

I should have slapped that asshole's pretty face when I had the chance.

Warm air hit my face. All I wanted to do was get rid of the electric current that ran through my bones. Forget about the ache between my legs and jumbled thoughts in my mind. I've never been looked at the way Mr. Felton looked at me. Or touched, or spoken to in a manner that made me feel… what? Sexy? Dirty?

Now get out. The words were short and simple, but held so much within them. The vengeance in his voice, the hate in his eyes, made me want to punch him in the throat. But his throat led up to his chiseled jaw and pouty lips, and those eyes and cheekbones. Oh fuck, those eyes.

Mr. Felton seemed so proper in his pressed black suit and blue tie with his hands in my panties.

But would I do it again? In a fucking heartbeat.

I went to the hotel and tried to forget the whole situation although I knew that was impossible. I watched stupid girl movies and ordered from room service! Hello Friday night!

All night long, my mind spun until eventually the time blurred. Hours and seconds melted into one long-lived experience, one that I hoped I didn't look back at in ten years and regret.

What had happened? I had agreed to be a call girl. Agreed to sell my virginity. Mr. Felton placed his hands down my pants. I had smelled like sex. Jesse hated me. I watched stupid girl movies that didn't make me feel any better about myself. All facts.

The soft hotel sheets covered my almost-naked body. I stretched and threw the covers off and opened the curtains in the room.

"Well hello, Lady Luck. Don't be a bitch today," I whispered to the busy city streets. The unknown thrilled me and scared the crap out of me; a wicked mix of conflicting emotions whirled within.

Every move I made always required detailed planning, calculations of possible outcomes, with the worst scenario having its own backup plan. I never imagined becoming a call girl, never in my sexiest dreams.

Before I completely lost track of my emotions, I decided to call Abbie. I didn't care what time it was there, I needed to talk to her, confide in her, and tell someone what I was up to just in case something bad happened. I watched way too much CSI .

After I clicked her name from my favorites, I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for her to answer.

Nothing.

As soon as I hung up, I had a call.

"Mornin'." I tried to put as much cheeriness in my voice as I could muster.

"This better be important. You know how much I hate mornings." And boy did I. She hated them like I hated the taste of coconut, or being alone, or even how I hated getting my feet wet when it rained. If the sun never shined again in the morning, I think Abbie would have been perfectly okay with that. She was such a grump before 10:00 a.m.

"I love how you hate mornings. Anyway. I'm sorry, Ab. I. I needed to talk to you."

When she responded, her voice was raspy and full of annoyance, but then softened.

"You took the job, didn't you?"

"Yes."

Silence.

Complete and utter silence filled the other line. I actually thought I heard the phone drop.

"Wait, what? Have you lost your damn mind?"

"You said to keep my options open."

"I didn't mean that , Jennifer."

I somewhat expected this reaction from her. I really did and I needed it. I needed to know that someone cared. That someone could pull me from the darkness if I ever got lost.

"Abbie."

"Jennifer Antoinette."

Usually, I wanted people to call me Jennifer Ann, but no, everyone had to say the full name. What the hell was my mother thinking?

"You've got to be shitting me. You're a virgin. Virgins can't be call girls unless…" She trailed off and stopped talking mid-sentence. We both knew there were plenty of sexual acts a person could perform without compromising their virginity.

"You don't have to do this, you know. You're smart. Pretty. You graduated in the top of your class at the University of Houston. You were always the one to make the best decisions. And you don't really need the money. I just… I don't know what to say."

"I'm getting paid thirty thousand."

"That's it?"

"A month."

Silence, once again.

"…and my boss' office has the best view of the city."

"Did you have sex with him?"

"No. No. It isn't like that."

"Are you lying? Something is up I can tell by your tone change."

That's the only thing that sucked about Abbie. She knew me. She knew me so well that she could tell if I was lying even with hundreds of miles between us. Even if I wasn't telling the whole truth, she knew. Abbie could read me like an open book.

"Are you sure you didn't have sex with him?"

The question made me flush.

"What? No!"

"Would you?"

"No! I would never do that, Ab. I can't. He's my boss and… I've agreed to sell my virginity."

"You are a dirty, little slut ."

Yesterday I would have let him throw me across the floor and make me his rug. He could have slammed me against the window and fucked me crazy in front of the city. I would have let him. I was so turned on, he could have done whatever he wanted with me. But the rules stated: immediate termination if one fell in love with another employee or client. It never specifically stated anything about having sex with another employee. But is sex ever really just sex? The stupid girl movies didn't think so. As long as I was an Elite, we were both equally unavailable because he was my fucking boss.

Critical thinking skills kicked into overdrive, and I had to stop before I drove myself off the crazy cliff. It was all a bit complicated.

More silence passed, and Abbie spoke up. "I'm just messing with you. Chill out."

We laughed about the rumors floating around Mid-County and Abbie's last semester of school.

"Hey, after graduation, you should move up here. I should have a place of my own by then."

I smiled at the thought of her being here. If Vegas could suck the wild out of me in less than a week, when Abbie arrived, I would completely lose all straight-edged inhibitions.

Between the two of us, she was the beauty, and I was the brain. Mischief was her middle name, or should have been. Abbie would do anything to get a rise out of people or to steal the spotlight. Trouble to her was like a flame to a moth. Being drawn to that type of behavior, while being surrounded by Sin City, was a slush pile of madness waiting to happen.