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Percy takes a menacing step forward, and I startle slightly. So much for not showing him any fear.
“You know that’s all bullshit. I’m not on fucking drugs.” He snaps at me.
“I don’t think you are, but that video will run on all the blogs, it’ll run on TMZ, and it’ll run on local news. Pretty much everyone who might buy your paper will see you handing money to a known drug pusher.” I keep my chin up and he scoffs lightly.
“I don’t think you have the balls to do something like that. You’re a fucking amateur. Go for it. I promise you, you’ll never work in this town or for any other newspaper again.”
“That threat means nothing to me, without your interview or handing this video in I’m not going to be working anyway. I have nothing to lose.” I take a step closer to him trying to soothe the beast that I see in front of me. Right now I’m the enemy and as much as I don’t mind playing this role, he’s right when he says I don’t want to do something like this. “Percy, I’m not trying to ruin you. I don’t want any money or accolades, I just want to keep my job. An interview with you would set me up for years to come. Journalism is more than a way for me to keep a roof over my head, it’s all that I’m passionate about. What harm would it do to let people in, even a little bit?”
“You don’t know anything about me or what harm something like that will do. I say again, if you want to get laughed out of town for submitting some garbage like this, do it. You’re not getting shit from me.” Percy glares at me for a second before he turns on his heels and walks away.
7
percy
The driveback to the office is quick, probably because I’m on autopilot. That little slip of a woman is trying to blackmail me for an interview. In all my years I’ve never heard of something like this. Sure newspapers offer to pay, others will send in spies—women trying to loosen my tongue. However, I’ve never had a reporter come up with threatening to blackmail me all on their own.
I walk into my large office and turn on the lights, illuminating the large area. I’m pent up. Frustrated that Ian has inadvertently gotten me into a situation where I have to give up my privacy or let my business take a hit.
I’m sure that those close to me would know that I’m not on drugs or funding some local drug dealer, but if that video did get out those that don’t know me well may get the wrong impression. In my line of business impression is everything. Sponsors would pull out and contracts would fall through the cracks, this could be a fucking catastrophe.
“God dammit!” I slam my hand down on my desk and try to take a few deep breaths. I can’t give in to her demands, but it feels like I don’t really have a choice in the matter. I’d rather her run a fucking biography than associate me with drugs.
How the hell did someone like her get the upper hand on me? My mind wanders back to the night's events and I can’t help but smile slightly. When I saw her walking into Keg Gardens I was drawn to her body. She’s small, but her curves are in all the right places. Her hips sway slightly and have a bit of a bounce to them. Her top wasn’t very revealing but from the way her breasts were pressed against the fabric I can tell she’s a nice size. She wears glasses and her brown doe eyes give away everything she’s thinking.
She can’t be much more than 5’3” and against my 6’2” it’s comical when she’d tried to intimidate me. I could just toss her over my shoulder and walk away. When she crossed her arms over her chest and tried to stare me down I nearly laughed in her face. If I pluck her hard enough she’d go flying.
Even if she’s a bit skittish there’s one thing that I can tell by just looking at her. That girl isn’t going to back down just because I tell her to. She’s going to be a pain in my fucking ass until I could figure out a way to get rid of her.
I’ve spent so long trying to make sure the public doesn’t see my family's dirty laundry and here this little brown eyed annoying woman is going to blow it all up. I can’t stand it. I won’t let it happen on my watch.
My eyes scan over my perfectly decorated office. The full wall bookshelf, the floor to ceiling windows, even the artwork that my father curated—all of it on the verge of being lost.
It would be fine.
Everything is fine.
“Fuck! Fucking bitch!” I swipe everything off my desk in an explosion of fury. And dig my hands into my hair tugging on the strands trying to get my anger under control. I push away from my desk and stalk over to the bathroom.
It’s pristine just like the rest of my office and my life. This woman is going to fuck everything up. I turn the water on and splash a bit on my face, but it does nothing to disperse the tension. I close my eyes and all I can see is that small woman staring up at me. Her smart mouth and that attitude. How fucking dare she stand up to me?
I slam my hand against the mirror, but this tension, this borderline fear, isn’t going away. I squeeze my eyes shut and try everything to get back to my state of zen.
… That video would run on all the blogs …
… it’s all that I’m passionate about …
… I’m not trying to ruin you …
… Percy …
I open my eyes and look into the mirror only to see the outline of my hard cock against my suit pants. This is what I need. My hand rushes down to my zipper and I waste no time tugging myself out of my pants.
My eyes close again as I jerk myself hard and images of that woman pop up in my head over and over. The way she had looked when she was walking towards me. How fucking adorable she was looking up at me over her glasses.
My arm pumps faster when I focus in on the way she’d smirked at me. That mouth, what I’d to that mouth, “Fuck!” I groan as I shoot my cum all over the sink and a wave of euphoria washes over me.
The second the euphoria recedes, shame takes its place. Am I that hard up to get a woman that I’m getting off on thinking about the same woman that is probably going to destroy my entire career?
