5

Ambrosia

Oh. My. God.

First things first—I’m on the pill. I absolutely would’ve preferred the Dick use a condom, but after everything he’s put me through in my life, I’m not going to feel bad if he gets a few nights of lost sleep over the idea of me having his demon spawn. I’ll tell him in a day or two. When I’m over the fact that his cooties are currently leaking out my vagina and that tonight could’ve turned into the title of a romance novel. Having My Dickhead Billionaire Boss’s Baby.

Thank god for the pill.

Second—

“When I said distract the guards, I didn’t mean have sex with Chase Jett,” Parker whisper-shrieks when I meet back up with her and Eloise in an all-night coffee shop two blocks behind the office.

“What? It’s not like I enjoyed it,” I lie. Oh my holy god, I suddenly don’t know why Hogzilla over my apartment even bothers with the squeaky bedsprings. She could be having elevator sex. With a billionaire whose crooked dick grew three inches since the last time I saw it. Are penis extensions a real thing? Because if I were a dude with a billion dollars, and it didn’t hurt, I’d totally go for that. And I swear to god, if he ever gets that curve in it straightened out, I’ll kill him, because the things that curve did to my—

Ah, because it’s obviously a serious issue, and I like knowing Chase Jett’s penis is malformed. My nipples aren’t still hard and turned on. Your nipples are hard. Shut up.

Parker snaps her fingers in front of my face. “You didn’t enjoy it?”

Yeah, I don’t believe me either. “Not on purpose.”

“If you have to have sex, might as well be good sex,” Eloise says.

Word. I’m never taking off my pants for anything less than a double-orgasm event again.

“Did you get into his office?” I ask.

That’s the important part. And it shouldn’t be this difficult to concentrate on remembering why I was in the building in the first place.

Parker’s right. I was supposed to be the distraction. And I did a damn good job, didn’t I?

Eloise smiles. She has a truly terrifying smile. “In and out and completely unspotted. He’ll be cleaning glitter out of his butt crack and fingernails for the next year.” She gives me a fist bump, which I return despite the regrets seeping in.

I hadn’t been sober enough to object to Eloise’s idea of leaving Chase a present in his office when we left band practice, but I also wasn’t drunk enough to blame the elevator on the alcohol.

Who knew we’d hit a double header? Not the orgasms—which should be illegal and horrifying and not so explosive that I can still feel my vagina trembling and asking for more please because Chase Jett is a dickhead. A dickhead with a magic bent penis and fingers that can—

Double header.

Right.

The vengeance double header. Parker and Eloise set up glitter bombs in Chase’s office while I had exhibitionist revenge elevator sex with him while the security guards watched. And to think, I thought I’d be keeping their attention by sneaking around the employee snack bar.

“Do your security cameras record footage, or just run a live stream?” Eloise asks.

My heart stops.

Like, literally stops. Because I don’t know the answer to that, but I do know—

“Benny,” Parker whispers. She’s gone even paler than me, and I’m from Minnesota. She shakes my shoulders. “Sia, he’s sleeping with Tisha in accounting.”

Eloise gives the universal Go on, say something that makes sense gesture.

I grab the canvas sack Parker was using to carry her and Eloise’s disguises and wish it was a brown paper sack, because breathing into organic, fair trade cotton isn’t helping. And it’s not because I have a weird thing about the lion mask staring up at me with empty black eyes.

“Benny’s one of the night guards.” Parker’s voice is barely audible over my heaving. “Tisha’s the reason Crunchy had to issue a gossip policy. The whole company’s going to know about this by morning.”

Enter Chase Jett.

Exit my normal life.

Again.