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And I meant it about the vegan thing.
Look elsewhere for your fix.
Another of my old regulars sent me a nude of her using a particularly hardcore toy on herself.
I sent her a gif of a bible whacking someone over the head with blinking text across it that read, ‘Begone, Satan.’
That didn’t seem to faze her at all going by the fact that she sent me a video immediately following that. I didn’t even look at it.
The two girls from the counter incident were sending a steady chain of filth my way, as well. I ignored them for quite a while before finally responding.
Me: I’m taking my priest vows.
Repent and stop texting me those.
They are the devil’s work.
It didn’t even slow them down. I stopped so much as opening most of my texts, and I wondered what was wrong with me for multiple reasons: Why had I indulged so many meaningless flings with such vigor? Followed shortly by: Why was I so unmoved, so wholly un-tempted by them now?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MY DAD SHOWED up out of the blue, which was never a welcome development. I saw him about once a year for two to three days, and it was always a wonder that I was still speaking to him at the end of it.
Ro answered the door, as she usually did, and led him back to my office. She looked a little shell-shocked and I glared at him, wondering if he’d already managed to say or do something awful in the short trip from the front to the back of the house.
“Hello, Carson,” I said to my father, already feeling hostile.
He smiled at Ro and winked at her.
I felt my hands curl into fists.
“Get me a cup of coffee, doll,” he told her.
“She’s got a great rack under those conservative clothes,” were the first words out of his mouth, before she was even out of fucking earshot.
“Don’t even think about it,” I told him, voice low and outright mean. “That one is so off-limits, you don’t even want to know.
He looked intrigued. “I beg to differ. No one’s off-limits.”
He was still effortlessly bagging anything with legs and a vagina from the ages of eighteen to twenty-six, and showed no signs of slowing down. My shameless, womanizing genetics were stellar.
For some bizarre reason women rarely turned him down, and that included the one woman I had ever foolishly committed to.
“I’ll rearrange your face if you so much as look at her wrong,” I said, and I absolutely meant it.
He was in his late fifties, but the bastard just seemed to be getting more handsome and distinguished with age, and he’d always liked his face, so it was a good threat.
Still, he just looked even more intrigued. “So you’re bagging her, and it’s serious.”
I cut my hand through the air. “Knock it off.”
“Where is that sexy secretary with my coffee? She’s taking her sweet time. Maybe I’ll go find her myself.”
“Is your wife with you?” I asked him.
That put him in his place a little. He suddenly looked disgusted and annoyed. He waved behind him, and I could not begin to guess what he was indicating. “She’s somewhere close by. You know she never lets me get far.”
We continued to catch up in our antagonistic way and when a full half-hour had passed, and I realized that Ro had completely ignored his request for coffee I was as tickled by her as I’d ever been.
