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“Bold move,” Jack muttered.
“And you didn’t think while you were making those calls one of them should’ve been to me?”
“Not when I was fighting off Martin’s wandering hands, while sitting on his lap while his micro penis was hard under my ass. Let’s just say I now understand why he pays for sex. No woman would put up with a pinkie-toe-sized dick.”
I could’ve gone the rest of my life not knowing the size of Martin’s cock and lived happily.
“You know it’s not always the size that matters,” Jack objected, looking down at his phone. “What some men lack in size they make up for with their tongues and fingers.”
Before I could stop further discussion about dick size Cat jumped on Jack’s comment.
“Oh, it sounds like you’re speaking from experience. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
I heard Atlee snort beside me.
“I swear to God, if you offer up your cock, I’m gonna cut it off,” I groused.
Still tapping on the screen of his phone Jack shrugged.
“A man who has a big dick doesn’t need to swing it around. I was merely trying to educate Cat here that women are typically hung up on size when really they should focus on the pleasure. And a man worth taking to bed.” Jack glanced up from his phone and pinned his glare on Cat. “Should know how to pleasure his woman with all the tools he has at his disposal.”
Atlee’s hand flexed twice.
“He’s not wrong,” she murmured.
“Please don’t encourage him,” I begged.
“Thanks for the sex ed talk. Will you be taking questions after class?” Cat quipped.
“Sure. But I’m more a shower than a teller,” he shot back.
“Can we get back to work?” I suggested.
Apparently not.
Cat stared at Jack.
Jack held her stare in a challenge that wouldn’t bode well for Catarina.
Cat broke first and glanced at me. I watched Jack smile and go back to his phone.
“Martin’s got three buyers coming in this afternoon,” Cat told me.
“Did he mention names?”
“No, but only because Martin’s friend, Dale, stopped Martin from discussing too much in front of me.”
“Dale?” Jack asked before I could.
“Cagey as fuck,” she answered. “Didn’t get a last name and he wasn’t happy Martin was talking in front of me.”
“What did he look like?” I took over.
“Square jaw, clean shaven, brown hair with some threads of silver, expensive suit, expensive watch, expensive taste in scotch. I couldn’t get an exact eye color—it was dark—but I’d say they’re brown or hazel.”
I looked over at Atlee.
“Is that the man who was with Martin this morning?”
