Page 33 of The Man I Hate

Amused by her apparent jealousy—and her feisty mood—I rang the doorbell. Following a lengthy wait, it opened.

Eager to determine if the twitch was a fluke, I decided to start with an apology and go from there. After a few more sexually suggestive comments, I’d know for sure if I was broken or merely subconsciously uninterested in Mica.

“Listen,” I began. “I’m sorry I started off like that. It’s just…I was trying to—”

“Take off your pants.” She gestured toward my crotch with a freshly filled glass of wine. “Get your big cock out.”

Like a rocket, my dick shot from its flaccid state. Thrilled that everything seemed to be in working order—but unwilling to disrobe at her command—I met her drunken gaze with a stern glare. “I’m not whipping out my—”

The door swung closed with a thump!

Slightly irritated—but thoroughly amused—I knocked on the door.

It opened.

Clutching the doorknob in one hand and her wine glass in the other, Anna took a drink. She lowered the glass, sloshing wine at her feet in the process. “I’ve got little use for you other than sex.” She stepped to the side and gestured toward the living room. “You can either come in and get busy or go back to your teenage bikini model.”

“I can’t—”

“Can’t come in, or can’t go back to the twenty-two-year-old?”

I pressed my palm against the door to prevent her from slamming it shut in my face. “Can’t come in.”

“Why?”

“I’m not going to leave her over there by herself.”

“Afraid she needs help posting selfies to Instagram?” she asked in a sarcastic tone.

“She’s a client,” I said. “And she’s alone in my home.”

“Why’d you come here?” she asked.

I wasn’t willing to admit I had an erectile disfunction, even if it appeared to only be applicable to Mica. Explaining the “I want you to suck my cock” declaration I’d made wasn’t going to be easy.

“I wanted to antagonize you,” I said, although it wasn’t true. “I’m sorry. It was uncalled for.”

“You’re a prick.”

“Actually, I’m not as bad as it might—”

“You weren’t that good, anyway,” she said under her breath. She pushed against the door. “Forget it.”

She was much stronger than I expected. I braced the edge of the door with my foot and then looked right at her. “Excuse me!?”

She gave me a flippant look. “Forget it.” She gulped her wine. “I’ll finger myself. It’ll be just as satisfying.”

“Just as satisfying as what?”

“As satisfying as sex.” She gave me a quick once-over. “With you, at least.”

“Drunk or not,” I warned. “You need to watch your tone.”

She peered down her nose at me. “Or what?”

I edged my way inside. I faced her and crossed my arms over my chest. “Or else.”

As if thoroughly entertained by my remark, she chuckled. “Now that you’re in here, I’m going to fuck you.” She stepped around me and kicked her bare foot against the door. “My way.”