His face doesn’t change, but I didn’t exactly expect the man to walk in and ask for an autograph, although I wouldn’t be opposed to a little help either. His mouth on my dick would go a long way in making my day be a little brighter.
“And as I said, I’m Brooks Morgan from Blackbridge Security. We have an appointment.”
“And I have an erection,” I say, squeezing the base of my cock.
Brooks’s eyes dart down to my cock, and the damn thing leaks for him in response.
“We can talk after you get dressed,” he says as he starts to turn away.
“A good boyfriend would at least stay and watch.”
Brooks’s face remains a hundred percent stoic as he reaches for the bedroom door. It closes behind him quietly.
My hand is frozen on my dick.
When was the last time anyone, male or female, walked away from me while my dick was out?
The short answer is never.
Chapter 3
Brooks
“Fucking celebrities,” I mutter.
The dog barking behind a door down the hall drowns out my words. The thing sounds miserable, but I’m not here to tend to animals.
I’m not here to tend to Archer Bremen the way he seems to expect, either.
Didn’t stop your gut from tightening when he said “I have an erection” in that accent of his.
I think I handled myself very professionally, and if things were different, I’d probably clap myself on the back for that. But Archer Bremen just proved that what he’s requested and what he expects don’t fully line up.
As I walk through the house, I decide to give him one last chance. If it ends up that he’s one of the #BlackbridgeSpecial chasers and somehow managed to slip through Wren’s vetting process, then I’ll be out of this house and on another job by lunchtime. I hope that’s exactly what happens. If anything, Wren needs to be knocked down a peg or two.
Although the house is enormous, no expense spared when building or furnishing, my perusal has everything to do with security measures. The opulence of the place doesn’t affect me the way I imagine it would other people. Blackbridge Security services aren’t cheap, and places like this are a dime a dozen in my field of work.
The security system looks top notch, cameras scattered throughout the common areas. Looking around Bremen’s bedroom, I noticed there weren’t cameras in there, unless they’re hidden.
I make a mental note to get with Wren to ensure that the technology can’t be hacked before walking into the kitchen.
“Jesus, fuck,” I mutter as I walk into the room.
The trash is overflowing, the sink is filled with dishes, and takeout containers litter nearly every available surface.
Don’t get me wrong. The place isn’t completely trashed, but for a man with a net worth in the hundreds of millions, this place should be spotless.
I fire off a text to Pam, the office manager, letting her know we’re going to need household staff hired if Bremen doesn’t already have someone on his payroll. I normally wouldn’t get involved in such domestic issues, but I’m also not going to spend time in a place that looks like it has been overrun by frat boys either.
She responds back that his last house manager quit, and she’ll have someone there by the end of the day.
I don’t know how long it’s going to take Archer to get dressed, but I’m also pretty certain he isn’t going to get his release very quickly, especially if he’s been using cocaine and alcohol like he claims.
I set to making an espresso, my mouth watering for caffeine since the man mistook me for coffee delivery.
I wash the cup sitting under the spout on the espresso machine because I wouldn’t put it past Archer to simply rinse his cups rather than washing them, going by the state of the kitchen. I set about making a double espresso.
I feel the man enter the room before I actually see him, but I don’t pull my eyes from the slow drip of the machine. I can all but taste the richness of the stuff just from the smell. I fucking love rich people, especially the ones that spare no expense where caffeine is concerned. I would say I’ve been spoiled by it, but Deacon keeps me grounded by buying store brand coffee regularly back at the office.
Just as the machine spits out the last few drops of heaven, I take a deep breath, preparing to face Archer Bremen and explain that having his dick out like it was earlier will never happen again. If it does, Blackbridge Security will no longer retain him as a client.
Picking up the tiny cup, I turn to do just that when the cup is snatched from my fingers.
I watch, my professionalism taking a nosedive, my mouth hanging open when Archer lifts the cup to his mouth and downs the nearly boiling hot liquid in one go.