Page 41 of Mr. Bentley


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I contemplate that as get out of the shower, after coming hard, then I down another scotch. It’s useless; there is nothing on earth that is going to satisfy me of this ridiculous thing that I’ve started. And make no mistake, she may have seduced me unknowingly with her see-through bikini, and her pert littlemouth that I want to devour, but I was the one who acted on it.I kissed her back.

I walked her right back into the door and made her feel my raging cock, and plunged my tongue into her mouth. I’m just as much to blame.

But one of us has to be the voice of reason.

I pace the entire floorspace of my suite as I think about what to do.

I’m not apologizing.

That would mean I was sorry, and I’m only sorry that it ended.

Not even the guise that she’s James’s ex can deter me. Imagining them together only makes me angry, not put off.

It’s settled:I have a serious problem.As in, psychological.

Since my jerking off didn’t dispel my hormones, I decide I’m going to go down to the gym and take my frustration out on the punching bag. Maybe while I’m down there, I’ll get some sense knocked into me. Who knows, maybe if I look hard enough, I might find someone to actually punch me in the face and wake me up from this nightmare that I’ve found myself in.

It’ll be fine.

I’ll have a punch out.

I’ll change resorts in the morning or book a flight home.

I’ve had about as much vacation as I can handle.

“I don’t fucking care, Eloise, get it done,” I bark down the phone.

So much for enjoying my last morning in paradise. I’m arguing with my second in charge over a minor detail, and I know I’m being an ass. She doesn’t care, though, she’s used to me.

While I love what I do, the stresses have been weighing on my mind for some time, mainly because my doctor has told me I need to slow down. I know that’s probably true, since I’m no spring chicken anymore, but this is what I do. I submerge myself in the business, I always have. It’s what I know.I don’t know how to not be this.

I love going in for the kill; it’s in my blood.

My father taught me everything he knew about how to run a profit; how to buy smaller companies and build them up or break them down and sell them for a profit. By doing that, I was able to expand the media giant I have today. I have him to thank for it, God rest his soul.

But what I don’t take too kindly to, is other people in my company not giving a hundred and ten percent. There is no room for tardiness and laziness in my employ.

Eloise is none of these things, but the people beneath her leave little to be desired.

“You’re very grumpy today, Lukas,” she says in a smooth voice. She’s more than used to my daily tantrums by now and is one of the few people who don’t cower in my presence. “Aren’t you supposed to be lying on a sunbed somewhere, soaking up the sun?”

Her attempt at making light of the situation only fuels my annoyance.

I should be there. Doing what I do best.

“You know, Icouldbe doing that, if I didn’t have to micromanage from my hotel suite because the ridiculous sum of money I pay my staff doesn’t seem to be enough to get them to do what I expect.”

“Keep your pants on,” she sighs. “I’ve got it covered. I’ll update you later when the merger has been signed.”

“No need, I’m on the four o’clock flight.”

There’s a pause. “Aren’t you supposed to be lying low of this wholesituationuntil the charges are dropped?”

“No,” I snap. “And running away to Mexico only looks like I’ve hightailed it and ran.”

“It’s an assault charge, it’s not like you killed somebody.”

“I fucking felt like it,” I mutter.

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