I should fuck her and be done with it. That’s what my problem is, and I know how to fix it. Give my dick what it wants so I can fucking think straight.
If I fuck her, she’ll think we’re an item. Women always think that shit five seconds after a man fucks them. Only a whore is safe to fuck without worrying about strings attached.
Candy might be capable of remaining rational after I fuck her. Or she might want something from me. Or she might quit, and I’ll end up with those crying temps. I’m sick of listening to women cry. Candy never cries. When I yelled at her yesterday for misplacing a file, she only smiled and said she would do better. I realized later I put the file in the wrong place. I also realized she fucking knew it was me who fucked up. Candy shrugged it off. No doubt she’s smart and tough enough to let me fuck her and then go back to work.
What if I fuck her, and she remains a good employee but decides to date a guy? An asshole sharing my pussy isn’t acceptable.
Does she already have a man in White Horse?
Who is he?
I’ll find out and scare him off.
And if he doesn’t scare?
I’ll beat him with a bat.
I’ll take an ax and chop him into tiny pieces.
No, drag him behind my truck until he’s mush.
If any man in White Horse touches Candy besides me, I’ll beat him until he’s half dead. Then I’ll let him get medical treatment and heal up, so I can beat him to death for real.
By the time I walk out to where Candy plays a computer game, I’m ready to hunt someone down and kill them.
“What are you doing?”
Candy doesn’t even look at me. “My kids like Minecraft. I’m trying to care about the game.”
“You’re at work.”
“Yes, but I have nothing to do,” Candy says and then glances over her shoulder at me. “Too bad you don’t have boxes full of crap I could clean up and organize.”
My hand reaches out to touch her hair before I regain control of myself. Candy notices but only turns back to the computer screen.
“How long would it take you?” I ask, walking around the desk, so she’s forced to look at me.
“For what?”
“To clean up all this shit,” I say, waving my hand at the stacks.
Candy stands up and surveys the mess. “Depends on what’s in the boxes.”
“Business records. Tax shit.”
Candy’s sexy mouth drops open. “Shouldn’t they be at your accountant’s office or something?”
“They have their copies. I have mine.”
Candy walks to a pile of boxes and shakes her head. “Is there anything sensitive in these boxes?”
“Probably, but my enemies would have to dig through a lot of boxes to find them. I don’t even know which ones have anything important in them.”
Candy frowns at me, and I feel small under her disapproving scowl. Fuck her for having such power.
“What did you fucking think was in the boxes?”
“MREs and other prepper stuff,” she says and then adds when I frown at her. “Your office looks like a bunker, and you have a small arsenal in the coat closet. I assumed this other crap was you preparing for the end of the world.”
“For your information, I keep my end of the world shit at my fucking house. I can survive for five to ten years easily. It’ll only depend on if I save anyone with me.”
Candy holds my gaze, and I wait for her to catch the hint that I’d be willing to save her under the right circumstances.
“I’m glad you mentioned that,” she says, turning away and looking inside a box. “If the bombs fly or zombies rise, I’ll bring my kids to your place. Might bring my sister and her kids too. I’ll leave the douche husband at home.”
“You can show up, but I make no promises about whether I’ll let you inside.”
Still checking the box, Candy grins. “If the world is coming to the end, you could do worse than having two hot blondes at your beck and call.”
I shrug, but there’s no denying I’d be a lucky fucker to sit out the end of the world with this woman. Her kids, sister, and even more kids don’t interest me as much.
“You keep bitching about cleaning all this up, so have at it.”
Candy looks at me suddenly, and I can feel her thinking. Devious thoughts too. She’s up to something, and I cross my arms in anticipation for whatever bullshit she’ll pull.
“How do you feel about paying someone under the table?”
“Who?” I growl, sounding scarier than I plan, but Candy doesn’t react to my tone.
“My sister could use extra cash, but nothing that can be traced.”
“First, you bring your kids here. Now you want me to hire your sister. I’m not running the Candy Wilburn charity house here.”
She hears how I stumble over my words. Her eyes narrow and she sizes me up. I don’t need her knowing she turns me into a dog in heat. I want to shift my stance and let my hard dick breathe. Knowing Candy, I have no doubt she’ll notice.
“Her husband is a douche, and I want her to leave him. Any cash she can hide would help.”
“Why in the fuck do you think I care?”