Ego Maniac

I’d have to send Roman a bottle of Gran Patrón Platinum for his brilliant idea tonight. We’d met for drinks at our usual bar, but then he insisted we go next door to Maya to try their empanadas—the guy had an obsession with Mexican food. Emily DeLuca and her friend Allison were already there, enjoying margaritas at the bar. Emily was an attorney at a firm across town where I often referred estate planning work. We’d flirted a few times, and there was a spark, but for me, spark never trumped sparkle on a certain finger on the left hand. And the huge rock she wore was pretty hard to miss.

It was also hard to notice it was missing tonight, especially since she’d wiggled the fingers on her left hand at me right before asking if she could buy me a drink. Even with that obvious gesture, I still confirmed her breakup before we left together. No matter how hot or ready a woman was, I didn’t touch cheaters.

Emily ground down on my growing cock, and I reached around under her bunched-up skirt to grab a handful of ass. Then I pulled on the lacy fabric running up the crack to increase the friction on the front. She moaned, so I pulled harder.

Christ, I love G-strings.

She reached for my shirt and started to work the buttons while I sucked on her neck. “I knew the first time I met you that we’d be good together. I hope you have a full box of condoms. Because after I ride you, I want to be on all fours while you take me from behind.”

The thought of Emily ass-up was exactly what I needed. Especially since I’d spent the last week fantasizing about another woman’s ass—one I should not be thinking about. Although, the repeated visual of Emerie’s creamy, round ass with my pink handprint on it as I hammered into her from behind was a new go-to favorite fantasy of mine. I dreamed of finishing inside of her and then cupping my cum as it dripped out to rub into my handprint on her skin like a salve.

My eyes were shut, and I had to press them tighter to ward off the visual of another woman. Because thinking of one woman while another rides you is a complete dick thing to do, even for me.

Emily lifted enough to slide her hand between us and cupped my cock, giving it a good squeeze. “I want you now.” She began to frantically unbuckle my pants, which had me reaching for my wallet. And then remembering there was no condom in there. Fuck.

“Any chance you have a condom?” I asked, biting on her earlobe.

Her voice was strained. “No. And I screwed up my birth control this month, so please tell me you have one somewhere in this apartment.”

Shit. I didn’t. I’d finished off the big box in my nightstand last month and never got around to replacing it. Then I’d used the emergency one I kept in the back of my wallet in Hawaii.

But…I had a few down in my office in the top right-hand drawer. At least I didn’t have to go outside and freeze my balls off. I groaned as I pulled back. Cupping Emily’s face, I said, “I need two minutes. I’m sorry. Condoms are in my office downstairs.”

“Want me to come with you? I wouldn’t object to a little desk sex. Plus, it will save time.”

Smart girl. But…probably not a good idea to bring her to a place where we’d be surrounded by shit that reminded me of the woman I was trying to keep out of my head.

I gave her a chaste kiss and lifted her off of me. “Stay put. My office is on the first floor. There’s twenty-four-hour security down there. I don’t want to have to cover your mouth when you scream my name.”

The damn elevator took forever to make its way up to my floor, so I took the opportunity to at least buckle my pants before running into Ted, the night doorman. What I should have done was put on shoes. The marble-tiled floor was like an ice cube, and I didn’t want my body temperature cooling down.

Inside my office, I made a point of not looking at Emerie’s closed door as I walked up the hallway. I didn’t need anything else to remind me of her. Definitely not the whiteboard where she wrote sappy relationship crap and then stormed into my office looking all sexy and angry. Nope. Not going to look. Like a two year old, I held my hand up to block my peripheral view of the office across from mine as I opened my door.

Rummaging through my desk, I found three loose condoms in the drawer. Thank fuck. I shoved them in my pocket and started back down the hall toward the lobby. I’d almost cleared the hallway when I heard a sound.

I should look.

Fuck that. Let someone break in and steal whatever they want. I’d deal with it tomorrow. I had more important things waiting for me upstairs.

Then I heard it again. It almost…sounded like a sniffle.

Was Emerie still here? I tried to keep going, but I knew I’d never be able to focus if I thought she could be hurt or something. What if she fell on her way out and was bleeding all over the floor in her closed office? I jogged back to her door and opened it.

“Drew! You scared the shit out of me.” Emerie jumped in her seat and clutched her chest.

“What are you still doing here? I thought you had a hot date with Mr. Escargot?”

“So did I.”

Upon closer inspection, I could see that she’d been crying. She had a tissue wadded up in her hand, and her pale skin was blotchy. “What did he do?” I had the sudden urge to choke the little dweeb with his own bowtie.

She sniffled. “Nothing, really. He just canceled our dinner plans.”

“What happened?”

“Today’s my birthday, and—”