Those Three Words: A Single Dad, Billionaire Boss Romance(18)

“Gentlemen, I’d prefer to leave my private life private. Looks like our table is ready.” I motion toward the hostess who is approaching us.

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you on the menu?” Jerry asks the young woman as she gestures toward our table.

I can tell by the look on her face she’s used to this kind of bullshit from drunken assholes.

“My apologies,” I say to her as I flash a sympathetic smile. “I’ll tighten his leash.”

By the time I’ve left the restaurant, I’ve had three drinks and it’s just after ten p.m., which means it’s nine p.m. at home and I’ve missed my chance to call Eleanor. I pour myself a little more bourbon when I get back to my room. I loosen my tie and pull it over my head, tossing it and my vest onto the chair and kicking off my shoes.

I’m not quite drunk but I’m certainly tipsy. The normal care I take with my clothes seems less important as I open the balcony door and take a seat on one of the lounge chairs. The city lights flicker like diamonds against the night sky. From this height, it feels eerily quiet in Manhattan. There are just a few dull sirens and a horn honking in the distance.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and flick through my contacts till I pull up Margot’s number. I hit dial and wait for her to pick up.

“Hello?” She sounds confused.

“Miss Silver.” My voice sounds deeper than usual, the effect of the alcohol and talking all night I assume.

“Everything okay, sir?”

Sir. Such an innocent little word that when spoken by her sends all sorts of thoughts racing through my brain.

“No. I fucked up.” The bourbon has clearly lowered my inhibitions.

“Oh?”

“I meant to call Eleanor, but time got away from me.”

“I understand. Did you want me to wake her up?”

“No, that’s not necessary,” I say, unsure where this conversation is going or why I even called this late when I damn well knew my daughter was already asleep. From her questioning tone, it’s clear Margot is wondering the same thing.

“Did she have a good day?”

“She did. She drew you another picture for your office and we went to the children’s museum which she loved. It really wore her out though.” She giggles and I can picture her plump pink lips curling up into that beautiful smile.

“That’s good. Did you have a good day?” The other end of the line is silent. “Miss Silver?”

“Yes, yes, I did. Thank you for asking. Did you?”

“It was fine.”

I know we’re both thinking the same thing right now—why the fuck are we on this call? But I can’t bring myself to hang up just yet.

“How’d your meetings go?” I picture her lying back in her bed, one hand behind her head as she stares at the ceiling and talks to me. I adjust myself in my chair, leaning back and kicking my feet up on the other chair on the balcony as I take another sip of my liquor.

“They went well. It’s a proposal for an acquisition that’s been in the works for the better part of a year. Seems like things are moving forward and contracts will be ready soon.”

“Wow, a year? Sounds so official and—honestly, a bit frustrating.”

I can’t help but laugh. “You’re not wrong. These kinds of deals can take years. This one is actually moving quite quickly. It just requires a lot of ego stroking and hand-holding with these men so they feel special and comfortable.”

I don’t know why I’m sharing so much with her. Maybe I’m lonelier than I realize or perhaps it’s the fact that nobody asks me how my day or meetings go… ever. At least not since Meredith. It feels good to share, even if it’s just out of obligation since I’m keeping her on the phone.

“Sounds like you need a woman involved. We’re good at getting things done pretty quickly and efficiently.”

“Maybe next time I have a negotiation I’ll bring you along. You can be my liaison. Whip these men in shape.”

“Well, now that sounds like fun, whipping a man.” She laughs.

I’m tempted, very tempted to make a comment about whipping or spanking or hell, even asking her what she’s wearing and completely throwing her off guard. It’s on the tip of my tongue but I swallow it down instead.

“On that note, I should be getting to bed. Have an early flight.”

“Of course. I’m glad your meetings went well, Mr. Hayes. Sleep well.”

“Good night, Miss Silver,” I say and disconnect the call. I drop the phone onto the table beside me, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.

Images of Margot lying in her bed permeate my thoughts. I imagine her bare legs on the white sheets, her braless tits beneath the thin material of a t-shirt, her hard nipples poking through. I feel myself growing stiff beneath my pants and I slide my hand down to undo my belt and zipper.

I know I shouldn’t, but the temptation is too great. I slip my hand beneath my boxer briefs and fist my now rigid cock in my hand. I pump my hand up and down my shaft, my lips parting as I imagine sliding her panties down her creamy thighs.

I hear my breathing grow ragged as I continue to pleasure myself. My chest burns as I pump harder, faster, my impending orgasm growing so fast I can barely hold off. I reach down and lift my shirt just in time as I spill myself directly onto my stomach.