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“Yeah?” she asks hopefully, turning so we’re face-to-face.
“Absolutely. My nipples are getting all tingly just thinking about it.”
A snort leaves her lips as she laughs, and I congratulate myself internally for making her smile.Mission accomplished.
“You have problems, Penelope,” Charlotte teases.
“I know, but I’m not lying. Sometimes my nipples will tingle when I have a good feeling about something.”
Funny thing is, though, they werenottingling when I saw Maddox a few days ago at my office. My vagina was throbbing, but there werenotingling nipples. No indication that having him as a client was a good thing at all. Just my needy pussy remembering how his pierced dick rocked my world and wondering when it is gonna happen again.
It’s not. It can’t.
But you know how you tell someone they can’t have something, and it just makes them want it even more? Well, nowI’min that fucking situation, and it’s not one I’m used to being in.
I always get what I want. And what I want is Maddox’s dick again.
“Is there anything we can do to make you feel better?” Amelia asks Noelle, pulling me back to the conversation.
“No, I’m okay. I’ve made my peace with it. It will happen when it’s supposed to.”
“How about a little retail therapy?” Charlotte suggests. “Every girl needs a little retail therapy now and then.”
“That and vibrator therapy,” I add.
“You go shopping for vibrators when you’re sad?” Noelle shifts to me again, her eyebrows lifting to her hairline.
“No. I lay all of mine out on my bed and go to town for a few hours on and off until I can’t stand up straight or I pass out, whichever happens first.”
“Hours? How does your clit not burn off?” Charlotte practically shrieks.
“Lots of training, ladies. Lots of training.”
Charlotte leans back in her chair and shakes her head at me while smiling. “I just can’t with you today.”
Batting my eyelashes, I say, “You love me.”
“How’s work going, Penelope?” Amelia asks as we all take drinks from our glasses.
“Oh... it’s... going.”
“That doesn’t sound very convincing.”
I’ve been struggling with what to tell my friends for the past two days about my little work situation, but I know that if I express how detrimental it is to have Maddox as a client, then I have to explain what happened between us.
And I don’t feel ready to admit it, which should be a red flag all on its own.
In any other instance, I would have no problem telling my girls about my phenomenal sexual experience. But this one is laced with emotional baggage and unethical work relationships that together form one big clusterfuck of problems I’m choosing to ignore right now.
I can’t tell them what happened, not yet—well, at least not in great detail. Vague details should be okay to give, though, right?
“Uh, well? This week, I kind of got thrown off by a surprise client my boss assigned to me who I wasn’t exactly thrilled about.”
Charlotte leans forward, always the one down for some gossip. “Who is it?”
I sigh. “The Los Angeles Bolts.”
Her eyes go wide. “The football team?” And then it dawns on her. “Oh, God! You can’t tell Damien, Ethan, Jeffrey, or Nick. The four of them won’t leave you alone.”
