Page 8 of Last Minion Standing
He’d have to compete. And win.
Then claim…
Chapter Seven
When I finally dragged my ass out of bed at the indecent hour of two p.m., it was to discover Jezzie had turned our living room into a war zone. I rubbed bleary eyes and looked again. Nope, still a fucking war zone.
“What’s with all this?” I asked Jezzie as she bustled from the laptop to the large whiteboards propped all over the place and covered in arcane scrawls.
“This board is name suggestions,” she said, pointing. “And this one is for sidekick applications.”
I rubbed my eyes, but the scene didn’t change. The scrolling amount of names applying for the job of my minion was staggering. “I can’t screen all those guys. They are guys, right? I don’t want any girls trying to steal my limelight.”
Jezzie snapped her fingers, and a quarter of the names on the board disappeared. “Done. I’ll adjust the online application. As for the rest, I’ve got the first round of eliminations scheduled for this afternoon.”
“So soon?” I squeaked. My innocent statement of needing a minion had taken on a life of its own and was now barreling like a giant snowball down a steep hill. Weeee! Other people might fear chaos and the limelight. I embraced it.
“Don’t worry. All you need to do is show up. I’ve got everything else under control.”
“Exactly what I’m afraid of,” I muttered as I went in search of caffeine. After having slept on it, I wasn’t so sure I wanted a minion anymore. Actually, I found myself in the mood for one shirtless and shoeless man instead. He had a pair of low-hipped pants just begging for a pair scissors so I could see if he wore boxers, briefs, or, even better, nothing at all.
While a happy Jezzie went completely overboard in her quest to help me, I showered and dressed for a visit to Hell. First stop, the HOE’s offices and Medusa—my fist really wanted to chat with her mouth.
Two hours later, and only because I rushed to get ready, I strutted into the HOE office building like I owned it, my indecently high heels clacking loudly on the polished floor. I knew I looked hot, having dressed in a red leather mini with a jet-colored blouse tied off just underneath my boobs while an elastic held my hair up in a high ponytail, the strands long enough to tickle my waist. I called that hairstyle the Tomb Raider, for it was just like the one Angelina Jolie wore in the movie. I just wished I had her perfectly plump lips—and Brad Pitt. Sigh.
Back to business. I made my way up to the dispatch office to have a few friendly words with my nemesis, Medusa. I wouldn’t tolerate the crap she’d pulled on me the day before. I intended to make very clear the future consequences should she decide to repeat her unprofessional behavior.
What I hadn’t expected to find was Drake already perched on Medusa’s desk, his head bent low as he whispered something to her, a certain something that made her blush and laugh.
My irritation rose, and I scowled, not because I was jealous, or because he wore a shirt over his magnificent bod, but because I could see my threats about to fall on deaf ears. I’d take bodily harm over pleasing the hot guy any day, and I figured Medusa, who didn’t get many chances at a hottie of his caliber, wouldn’t even bat an eye. I restrained myself from kicking things in frustration.
Medusa chose that moment to notice me, and she did so with a smirk. “If it isn’t the Big Hoe herself.”
“Jealous?” I smiled and added an extra wiggle to my walk when I noticed Drake’s eyes raking me from head to toe. “Oh, and Big Hoe is copyrighted to the president of the succubus union. Do your homework.”
The cap of snakes on Medusa’s head danced and hissed in agitation. “Let me guess, you’re here to bitch about the mishap with last night’s takedown?” Now, some girls might have smacked the smirk off her face, but I was much more devious than that.
I threw a sultry look at Drake. “Why would I bitch when that little booboo meant me getting to meet this great big hunk of man? On the contrary, I actually want to thank you for making my evening so pleasurable.”
Medusa’s lips tightened, so much they almost welded completely shut. With a wink at Drake, I sashayed back to the elevators. I should have known he’d follow me. Actually, I’d hoped he would.
Ignoring him wasn’t easy in the close confines of the elevator. Especially when he hit the stop button and I found myself pressed up against the mirrored wall. Thick arms bracketed me, and I angled my chin so I could peek at him through thick lashes.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Saying hello,” was his reply before his scorching lips found mine in a kiss that made me swoon. I clutched his broad shoulders for a moment, allowing the pleasure his touch ignited to sweep through me.
But I had no intention of making this too easy for him, good phone sex or not. My sharp teeth nipped at his lip and drew blood. He pulled his head back and regarded me with glowing eyes. Why his eyes kept glowing around me was a mystery, but the fact that his did almost made me grab his head to drag him back in for another smooch. However, I had places to be, minions to judge, and millions of viewers waiting to watch my awesome self.
“Now that you’ve said hello, we need to say goodbye. I’ve got an appointment.”
“Meet with me later.” His husky voice tickled my skin with awareness.
A part of me wanted to dive back on him for another kiss, maybe more. But no. I had to stay strong. And I meant strong, seeing as how it was an effort to say, “Sorry, sweetcheeks, but I’ll have to pass.” I patted him on the side of his smooth-shaven jaw. “While you are a hot piece of ass, my schedule is quite busy for the next little bit.”
He moved back and leaned against the opposite wall, and his lips tilted in a half-smile. “Ah yes, the contest for sidekick.”
“I’m glad you understand. Maybe in a few weeks, when things calm down, you can give me a call.” The brushoff, a classic. This was where I’d find out just how interested he was in me. I loved being chased—and getting fucked, um, I mean caught.