Page 11 of Love Bank
For now.
4
Bain
I wasn’t surprised to see the lady in my office. I’d seen her trot her way over in her heels, one hand on the end of her skirt at all times to make sure an errant gust of wind didn’t give us all a view of her granny panties. Now that I got a close-up look at her, she was actually quite pretty. In a stuffed-up, never-experienced-joy-or-exhilaration kind of way. She probably faked her weekly orgasms with the husband.
She froze in my doorway like she’d seen a ghost. She pursed her lips as she stared at me and I had a sense her asshole was similarly puckered up, tighter than any of the men I’d had to strip search over the years for interesting drug storage choices.
She finally unfroze and sat down on the other side of my desk. Her face was perfectly smooth like she had a skilled plastic surgeon. Then again, she didn’t have the duck lips or the frozen forehead, so maybe the unlined skin was all natural. Maybe she was much younger than the way she dressed. I think my grandma had that same skirt.
“Your inmates are whacking off at my place.”
Her voice raised the hairs on the back of my neck. She spoke softly, but firmly, like her words were the finest velvet overlaying steel. I was getting a sexy librarian vibe all of a sudden and I was shocked to discover I liked it. I mean, the woman was buttoned up tight, yet she had a way with words.
Then those words penetrated and I felt a frisson of unease. Did she know about my sample too? I swear, if I was already being gossiped about in this small town because of my brother’s stupid dare, I’d kill him. I forced my face into a bored stare.
“Oh, you must be from next door?”
Denial was always the best defense.
“Um, yes. So we seem to be experiencing a problem.” She sat up taller, which thrust her breasts forward. “Your former inmates are frequenting the clinic on their way back to town. It’s unacceptable.”
I smirked, irritated she might know I’d left a sample at her clinic, though I hadn’t seen her there. Doubly irritated my eyes wanted to drift south and take in those breasts to size them up.
I shrugged. “Where they go after they leave here is none of my business.”
Her eyelid fluttered, her only tell. She sat primly, not moving a muscle. “I know they aren’t under your watch at that point, but I’d appreciate if you could inform them they’re to go straight home or something once released.”
That voice was doing weird things to my chest. And that composure? Admirable. But I was determined to ruffle her feathers.
I stood up and came around the desk. She shrank back as I leaned against the desk, my legs just inches from hers. Bingo. I made her uncomfortable.
“Miss Eureka, is it?” At her nod, I kept going. “It’s a free country. As soon as the inmates are free to go, they’re free to do anything they want. Including providing samples at your fine establishment.”
She sniffed. “My fine establishment does not want their samples.”
I leaned forward, watching the way her cheeks turned pink the closer I got. “Are you saying inmate sperm isn’t good sperm?”
“I am saying, Mr. Sutter, that inmates are not the kind of people emotionally distraught women are looking for when trying to conceive a child.”
She hopped out of the chair, nearly clipping me in the jaw with her industrial bun of mousy brown hair. I would have inspected it further to determine how many cans of hairspray she killed to produce such a hard rock of hair, but my eyes finally won the battle, drifting down to take in the rapid rise and fall of a set of breasts worthy of staring.
“That’s very judgmental of you.”
“Wha—” Her hands flew to her hips. Definitely didn’t have a plastic surgeon. She was making all kinds of expressions now. My inner eight-year-old boy clapped his hands and whistled.
“How dare you? I had a man just this morning, barely clothed, wanting to make some cash to get out of town.”
I smiled. “Oh yeah, that must have been Johnny. He’s harmless. Just tried to steal the gold nugget on the Welcome to Auburn Hill sign.”
“He wasn’t wearing a shirt.” She nearly spat the words.
“So?” I pushed off the desk and stood tall, looking down at her. “Last I checked, that isn’t illegal.”
She cocked her head back to gaze up at me, narrowed her eyes, and then climbed up onto the chair to tower over me in some twisted game of one-upping.
“That is not the sort of reputation I want at my clinic, Mr. Sutter.”
