Page 20 of The Himbo and the Lord
But is it wrong that I take advantage of that privilege without hurting anyone?
Before the defiant anger can blaze within me, I focus on the task at hand and get to fucking work.
The hour goes by fast, and I shift a few things around after reading some articles about a new chip manufacturer. It’s a risk, but I’m willing to risk losing the money I put in because I have a good feeling about it.
Dad has always told me to trust my gut once I have all the information available, and that’s the best way to go about it—while still being safe.
It’s not like I invested even ten percent of what I could, so yeah, being safe while taking risks is the way to go. And it gives me a kind of exhilaration that I haven’t found anywhere else.
It’s a terrifying kind of excitement.
It never gets old, but I’m glad Shirley warned me about it a few years ago.
I make sure never to chase that feeling, because that’s when people start making mistakes and losing money.
I appreciate that I can have that feeling maybe once a week and then let it go. I go on with my life and do my very best to enjoy my “out-of-office” time to the fullest.
Speaking of...
I change quickly and I’m out the door only a couple of minutes late to meet the guys for dinner.
When I look up from my phone in the elevator and the gold mirrored doors show me my reflection I get a flashback of that first night when I met Ru. When he called me a himbo and acted all high and mighty.
I remember his soft skin last night, so creamy, and so easy to make it go red.
He’s a beautiful man, no question about it, and regret hits me hard and swift in the chest.
I wish I’d gotten his number.
I wish I could see him again.
Maybe I could? I fly to England... sometimes.
Icould.
Maybe he comes to New York for business?
The ding of the elevator and the widening view of the bustling lobby burst my bubble.
I’m probably never going to see him again, so I need to get over it.
It was a great couple of nights fucking—a lot of fun, which is my specialty—and now it’s time to move on to the next guy.
I bet I can find one tonight.
* * *
And I do... kinda.
Okay, no I don’t.
There are plenty of beautiful men parading in front of us that night at the club, and the next and the next.
But even dancing with a couple of them feels fucking wrong.
I can’t shake the picture of Ru looking down at me as I was sucking him off. I can’t forget the sound of his moans, of his pleading for me to fuck him harder.
It comes to the point where I can’t stop thinking about what he’s doingduring the day.
