Review: Play Boy

Play Boy by Cassie-Ann L. Miller
My rating: 0 of 5 stars

DNF

Sharon and I are definitely not at risk of bumping uglies at any point in the future. We immediately got that mess out of our systems when she started working for me three years ago. We were upfront with each other about our mutual attraction and handled it like adults—with a vigorous doggie-style session bent over the fax machine.

She's standing so close that she has to tip her head back to look at me. "You smell like sex." Her nose twitches. I run my hand over my short hair. "Just got in," I say with a sheepish grin.

And besides, I'm young, I'm attractive, I'm successful in my trade. What’s the point in depriving myself?

As I’m pulling my tank top over my head, I hear Giselle whisper loudly, “Duh! For a guy like Charlie Hartley, you’ve got to bring your A-game!”  My movements stutter as the words land right in my gut. She continues. “He said I have the best gag reflex northeast of Chicago.” The pride and accomplishment in the girl’s voice is absolutely pathetic.

“Have a good evening, Nova.”  I throw her a withering glance. “Same to you. Have fun perfecting that gag reflex.” Her jaw drops as I stomp out the door.

I shouldn’t have fucked Helena and that decision, like so many others, is coming back to haunt me.

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