Page 3 of Scoring Chance

“Silq Cosmetics is looking for a new ad agency,” she says while putting on her pearl necklace.

“Oh?” My ears immediately perk up, which makes her smile. People love the power that comes with knowing something others don’t.

“I might’ve whispered your name in their ear.” She slides bracelets down her hands onto her wrists. We learned from trial and error not to fuck while wearing jewelry. They have sharp edges where you least expect them.

“You’re not going after this?”

“We work with a competitor, so we can’t.”

Maya and I met at an advertising conference where our companies each had a booth. Over the course of networking mixers and cocktails, we discovered that we both had a love of modernist art and no-strings-attached sex. When our schedules align, we treat ourselves to a midday fuck.

“You look stunned,” she says.

“Silq is one of the fastest growing companies in the country.”

“And they could be yours.” She shoots me a wink, aware that the only thing that gets me turned on besides sex is work.

“Sex and business opportunities. What an afternoon.” I pour her a glass of sparkling water. I sit on the couch arm and flash her a winning smile. She openly checks me out. Will there be a round two?

“Don’t you need to check on your friend?” she asks.

“I’ve already interrupted our time together once. I’ll call him in a few. Thanks for understanding.”

“Hey, I’m impressed that you managed to stay hard while texting.” Maya hands me her business card. "I think my company might be hiring. Your friend is welcome to get in touch with me."

I lean down and kiss her lips.

"We had a great time this afternoon. I love when you work from home, Des," she tells me, nibbling my ear. "We should do it again soon."

She puts her hand into my boxers, gives my cock a stroke. Her hand sinks lower and pauses. I can feel the slight tensing in her touch, the signals she’s sending to her brain about why this guy’s sack feels off.

I pull her hand back gently.

"Sorry," she says. “I still forget sometimes. You fuck better than guys with two balls.”

I take a pretend bow from my sitting position.

“Does it feel any different for you?” she asks.

“Nope.” I don’t like to talk about having one testicle. It’s a memory that doesn’t need to be resurfaced. “It’s better to be down one nut than to have cancer all over my body.”

“That’s true.” Maya gazes into my eyes for a beat longer than we usually do. “Maybe next time, we’ll have a meal together and then have sex."

I wag my finger. "That would be a date, Maya. And we know what dating leads to..."

"Oh yes, it'd be horrible. Love. Wedding. Marriage. Sounds brutal." She's being sarcastic, but I nod my head in agreement.

We walk through my beautifully appointed apartment as I escort her to the door. I paid an interior decorator a fortune to help me design this place. It’s beautiful—upholstered couches, vibrant art on the walls, a sculpture in the corner. One of the benefits of being a wealthy bachelor is having a very nice bachelor pad.

I tip her chin up. "Thanks for understanding about..." I hold up my phone. "Next time, I’m locking my phone away in my safe.”

Maya nods, not falling for my bullshit. "Yeah. Well, tell your friend to call me if he's still single."

"Will do," I say.

I give her a peck on the cheek, and she leaves.

I stroll back to my martini waiting patiently on the coffee table. I grab my phone from my bed, put it on speaker, and pace in front of the gorgeous view.