Page 12 of Good Boy

He nearly choked once the words left my lips.

"I get to the office at nine. I expect you there thirty minutes before me and I like my coffee black. Understand?"

He licked the melted chocolate off his middle finger slowly, and I made the mistake of meeting his gaze. My insides melted, and I forced myself to look away.

"Understand?" I asked once more, my tone short.

He nodded, and then paused as he raised a brow. "But you didn't tell me what size rod?"

"What?"

"You know, the rod? That long stick that you shove up your ass every day. I'm certain you need a longer one? I can pick one up for you if you like"

A grin peeked behind his pink lips, and he reached for the bottle of milk.

"Are you done?"

He ignored my question, his eyes on mine as he gulped down the last of the milk. "Yeah. I finished about an hour ago." He winked and slid his thumb between his lips.

Fucking hell.

"Goodnight, Darius."

Those were my last words before storming off toward my bedroom. Sleep definitely wasn't in the cards tonight.

* * *

"Hey, can you take a client call for me real quick? I have a mini emergency," Cole said as he popped his head into my office.

He took one look at the scowl on my face and didn't even both asking what the fuck was wrong. After he turned on his heel without saying a word, I returned my attention back to the phone. The time read 9:07 a.m. and Darius was nowhere in sight. I had things to do, calls to make, but I refused to miss ripping him a new asshole when he finally showed up. I sipped my coffee, the one cup my assistant would usually have waiting for me. My phone buzzed, and Cynthia's name popped up on the screen. I took the call, but kept my eyes glued to the elevators.

"I was thinking we could have a little ‘us’ time tonight?"

"Us time?" I asked, her words jolting me out of my office chair.

She let out a breath. "Yes, Weston. Us time. I have needs too."

I found a corner at the window, and switch my phone to the other ear. "What? Where is this coming from?" My words strained into the microphone.

A heavy, electric tension filled the air between us, and I averted my gaze to the floor. Any other man would be palming a hard-on if their wife called asking them to bang their pussy when they got home, but all I wanted to do was stroke my cock to the asshole who was almost an hour late for work.

"I know what you've been doing every morning in the shower, and—"

"Okay, fine. But can we please continue this when I get home?" I asked, cutting her off.

She finished the conversation with some useless, mundane shit that didn't concern me and then ended the call. I slipped the phone into my pocket and then combed my hands down my face.

"Trouble at home?"

I whirled around to find Darius. A smug grin crept across his face as he leaned back in the luxurious leather chair in the corner of my office, stretching out one arm across its back. His legs spread wide, expressing a certain cocky confidence that boiled my blood.

"It's your first day and you're fucking up already. This should be easy." I shook my head and rounded my desk, my gaze on the patterned carpet as I walked over to him.

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and slipped it between his lips. "At least I showed up. That’s the deal, right?"

I invaded his space, stepping right into the split of his legs as I towered over him. God, I wish the hate I had for him reached my cock. He strolled in wearing tight-ass jeans with tears at the knees, a cutoff cropped top t-shirt with a washed-out image of Aaliyah on it, and that fucking blue jean jacket. I raised a brow as he lit the smoke and let it drag between his lips nonchalantly. He had no idea he was walking the plank to his own downfall, and I couldn't wait for the little shit to fall.

"We have court this afternoon, and you won't be showing up dressed like that.”