“Did you sleep well?” I ask, because I know she’ll blush.
I’m right. And the color in her cheeks raises my cock against my zipper with a new vigor.
“Very,” she says. “How long have you been up?”
I glance at the stone-cold cup of coffee I brewed hours before sunrise. “A while.”
She nods toward my phone. “That sounded like a demanding client.”
I shrug.
“Was it Da?”
I shake my head. “Believe it or not, your father isn’t the most difficult of my clients.”
“Idon’tbelieve that.”
As if on cue, a text comes in. I start to make a glib comment, but the words freeze on my lips when I see the number. My blackmailer. And today is the first of the month, their deadline for one hundred million dollars.
“I need to take care of this,” I say.
Her eyes turn sly. She’s thinking about crossing the room. Maybe climbing onto my lap or kneeling between my feet. She wants to lure me upstairs, to start the day a second time, slow and lazy.
I wonder when I learned to read Kate’s mind.
“Go,” I say gently, picking up my phone. Her pout is pretty, but she turns away. I long to call her back. Instead, I pull up a venomous text.
The press will have a field day
They’ve attached a copy of my signed confession, admitting to all the crimes that will devastate Lone Wolf Enterprises.
Cole Wolf
I need more time
You’re a fucking billionaire
One hundred mill has to come from somewhere
You’ve had two weeks
I need four more
One
You’re bleeding me dry
You don’t know what dry is
I can’t do this in less than a month
There’s a pause, while triplets of bubbles boil on my screen. I learned my lesson last month. If I pay this shark, they’ll only come back for more. The longer I can string them along, the greater the chance I can figure out who has the connections to get hold of my juvie record and the know-how to hide their identity.
The bubbles finally disappear.
Two weeks
But the vig is twenty percent
