Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“I assume that’s a rhetorical question.”
“Yes, that’s a fucking rhetorical question, Wade. Come on. Just follow me here. We changed their round jars to square jars, completely redid the label. Hell, we fucking had an old lady to dress up like a farmer, slapped those on the new jars. You wouldn’t fucking recognize it from the original.”
“Where the fuck did you get the old lady idea from?”
“That’s what was taking off last year with jam for some reason. I don’t fucking know why. I’m not a psychic. We can’t decide what people like. We can just figure it out as fast as we can and kick our asses to give it to them.”
“The sort of rebranding you’re talking about is a pretty big investment.”
“No. The investment has already been made. What we’re talking about here is not just recouping your losses, but making a substantial profit off it as well. I’m telling you, it’s worth every penny. Sit down with your client, tell them what I just said with the same confidence, and they’ll make the right decision.”
“Okay, okay, so I’ll pitch this to them and see what they say,” Wade said, submitting. Wade was always one to be eager to submit…in and out of the bedroom.
“Chat it over with your logistics department. See what you can get done. Feel free to email me to bounce off ideas, but you know I’m never wrong about this stuff.”
But sometimes I was. I was wrong about Ethan Fucking Harris. So much for Straighty. I’d always been pretty confident with my gaydar, pretty sure I could spot a guy who wanted to suck my dick from a mile away, but he certainly shook my delusions of grandeur…and then made my body tremble with how he worked my cock. Not to mention how hot it was to come together. It wasn’t even anal, but it was one of the hottest experiences I’d ever had in my life. Since then, I hadn’t been able to get Ethan out of my head.
God knew I’d fucking tried. I’d had enough tricks in my life to be able to just walk the fuck away, but damned if every fucking five minutes I wasn’t thinking of his drive and ambition as he tried to deep throat my dick.
Even as I thought about it briefly at the bar, I got a semi. And I couldn’t help but imagine Ethan sliding it in, working it, trying to get better, trying to please me…and then me wanting to please him.
I took a big gulp of my cocktail, hoping a stiff drink would help me push Ethan out of my thoughts, but if it hadn’t happened the past few days, I figured it wasn’t going to happen because of a martini.
Wade leaned toward me. “So what do you say we get out of here?”
“Where you want to go? I’m not going to another karaoke bar with you, that’s for sure.”
“Fuck no to karaoke—and that was one time. I was thinking maybe we could go back to your place.”
He set his hand on my leg and glanced at what was clearly one hell of a boner in my pants, which shifted because of his touch.
He couldn’t know it hadn’t popped up because of him. He didn’t have those full lips like Ethan…or that fucking cocky expression that—arrogant as it was—couldn’t have been hotter on a guy.
I set my hand on his. “Was this entire meeting just so you could get a little dick tonight? Or were you actually interested in talking shop?”
“A little bit of both?” he said, a mischievous look in his eyes.
I chuckled. “You really fucking wasted my time with that talk about organic chocolate bars.”
“Oh, no. I needed that advice, and I’ll use it for sure. I was just hoping that wouldn’t be the only thing you bossed me around about.”
Being that I had a boner and was hard as fuck, thanks to a not-so-straight guy who left the ball in my court, I felt like fucking around with Wade would be the perfect opportunity to get Ethan Harris out of my head. And I needed to get off since Straighty had left me blue-balling all week.
Of course, if I’d wanted to get with him again, I had my chance. Ethan had cleverly left behind a business card at my place. I’d wondered at first what he’d meant about us getting together again since I didn’t have his number, but when I found the card, I knew he was expecting me to reach out, but I’d resisted.
What if he fucking regretted messing around with me? What if the moment he’d gotten home, he’d wigged about messing around with a guy? Although the way he talked about the guy in college made me think he was comfortable with the idea. But obviously there were things he was confused about. He asked some questions, but not nearly enough considering everything that must have been going through his head in that moment. And I had to admit I was a little freaked out since I wasn’t sure I wanted to be the one who helped him come to any bizarre realizations about his sexuality.