His Nasty Little Pussy

I tried to stifle my excitement. Meredith had never asked a question in any of my proposals before. “I’m glad you asked,” I said. “Forty-eight hours. Once in the morning, once in the evening. Four applications are all that is necessary to begin showing obvious signs of skin renewal. The potential is massive. Women, men, teenagers-for a variety of skin issues.

Acne, to wrinkles, to softer skin. The possibilities are limitless.”

I turned around and pressed the remote for a final time. The first and second images of Tess both appeared side by side on the screen. Her acneridden teenage face and the smooth skin of the face I’d kissed the night before.

I looked back at my audience. “I should add that Tess Perkins has signed on to become my business partner with the marketing of her product. And she has given permission for total involvement in the process.” My eyes landed on Meredith. “There’s no better person to market a cream than the person who created it to fix their own skin issues. Her mere presence will sell it on its own.”

I studied the ripple effect of my words around the room, and before anyone had even spoken, I knew Tess’s product had landed a slam dunk.

Brooke stood up. “Well, Mr. Wyler. You’ll have my business. I must be getting to another meeting. We’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you, Ms. Warren,” I said, calling her the fake name I’d come up with. As she left, the rest of the room stood, muttering amongst themselves. Each of the men shook my hand, nodding in acknowledgment of my proposal. Finally, Meredith approached me. She had a reputation for never shaking anyone’s hand, so I didn’t attempt to reach out.

However, rumor had it that there was a cue that she gave if she was going to say yes. I held my breath as she paused. “Thank you, Mr. Wyler.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Her gaze hesitated on mine, and then there it was-the hint of a smile, her lips turning up just for half a second.

Goosebumps coursed over my entire body.

Holy fuck.

I reached into my pocket for my phone, hoping that Tess had texted or called. My heart dropped when I saw that there were no missed calls from her, no texts either. She must be really sick to not even check in. She knew this was a make or break it type of scenario.

I went to press her name to call her when I suddenly got a call from Rich. I debated answering and figured I’d call him back after I talked to Tess but then decided what the hell, and I picked up.

“Hey,” I said, closing the door so no one would hear me. “I think we fucking got it,” I hissed, unable to hide my excitement. “We fucking got

Meredith!”

“That’s good.”

I heard his tone. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s easier to explain in person,” Rich said. “Can you come to my office?”

“Right now?”

“Ideally,” Rich said.

“Okay,” I sighed. “I’ll be there.”

I called Tess on the way to Rich’s and got her voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me. Are you okay? I’m guessing you’re still sick. So I just wanted to check in. And tell you…Tess, I think we fucking did this,” I whispered into her answering machine. “Call me when you get this.”

I shot her a text anyway, just for good measure. Hope you’re feeling better. Call me.

I was light and smiling as I stepped into my office an hour later. I hadn’t given much thought to what he wanted to talk about. Rich was always in a mood about something, and few things could really ruin my present mood.

How wrong I had been to suspect that.

“Hey,” Rich said as I entered. “How are you doing?”

“Fucking great,” I answered, closing the door behind me. “I think this one is it, Rich. I think I finally found the golden product I’ve always been searching for.”

He didn’t look impressed. “Is it true that you’re going to make Tess the face of the marketing campaign?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Why?”

“You might want to take a seat.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “Just tell me, Rich.”

Rich’s hands pressed together. “I got an email today from a journalist at the Quilton Times.”

I snorted. “That shit gossip magazine doesn’t hire journalists. Call them what they are. Scam artists.”This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

“Fine,” Rich said. “Whatever you want to call them. But they got wind of you working with Tess. As far as I know, they don’t yet know that she’s going to be the face of the campaign, but I guess they did some digging… and found these.”

Rich slid a photo across his desk. My stomach plummeted. The photos were taken at a beach, presumably in Florida, probably during Spring Break. In the corner of a dense crowd, I spotted Tess.

She was dressed in a two-piece bathing suit and was straddling a man’s lap. One of his hands was gripping her ass, the other one hidden beneath her bathing suit top, cupping the curve of her right breast. Her left tit had slipped from the suit, her hard nipple evident.

It wasn’t the nudity or the partying that stuck with me. It was the sparkling rock on the ring finger of her left hand.

Tess had been engaged.

I breathed through a rush of feelings.

“They have to know she’s going to be the face of the company. Why else would they send this?”

Rich slid a second photo across the desk. It was taken with a long lens and looked in the sliding glass door of the mansion in the Hamptons I had rented.

The photo showed both me and Tess, completely naked-the moment I’d carried her from the kitchen into the master bedroom. My face and body were hidden, but Tess’s was visible, as well as her body. Her breasts were front and center.

“Looks like they followed you to the house.” “Jesus! Fuck,” I whispered, collapsing into a chair.

“I thought you said it was a one-time thing,” Rich said.

“It was…until it wasn’t.”

“He’s asking for one million,” Rich said. “Or he’s publishing them next week.”

The answer was effortless. “Pay him.”

Rich blinked. “W-what?”

I glared at him. “I said pay him.”

“Brady, your face isn’t even clear. And it’s not your house. That could be anyone.”

“I said pay him!” I screamed. I swallowed back my anger. “We landed this deal today because I advertised her as the face of the product. We’ll lose the investors if these photos come out.”

“Fuck me,” Rich whispered. “It’s more than that, though, isn’t it?” “What do you mean?” I asked.

“You’re protecting her,” Rich said. “You have feelings for her…don’t you?”

I sighed. “Just send him the money from my account, Rich,” I whispered. “And do it before tonight…before it gets leaked that she will be the face of the company. If that gets out, I guarantee you that he’ll ask for more money, or he’ll publish them anyway. Make sure those are the only photos.”

“I will.”

I slunk toward the door, my demeanor the exact opposite of how I had walked inside.

“Brady,” Rich called after me.

I paused, turning my head around to listen to what Rich had to add. “You’re the one who made the rule ‘Don’t mix personal and business.’

Maybe try to keep an eye out for paparazzi next time you’re with her.” “I know what I’m doing,” I said. “I hope you’re right.”