EroticReverie

Soshana Starling 

I growl as I walk away from Joseph. I don’t get flustered. Because I don’t flirt with clients and I never even go anywhere near the line that I draw for myself. The whole mommy comment just spilled out. It was a joke. And now it was one that had Joseph Zamora calling me mommy. I might be happy that he was joking with me and teasing me instead of growling and being an award winning sour puss. But not when it was at the expense of my professionalism.  I couldn’t let clients see me as an option to flirt with. I had to remain professional. I wanted to be taken seriously and respected. And now one my fathers biggest clients was calling me “mommy”. And then I’d told him to shut up. And threatened to poison his food. 

“God damnit Shosh” I hiss at myself and scowl at myself in a mirror that I pass in the hall. 

Joseph Zamora is a pain in my god damn ass. He’s been nothing but a grumpy dick head since I arrived. Okay. Not a dick head. But grumpy. Not mean. But not pleasant. His clipped one word answers. His grunts in response to questions. This morning has been the most he’s talked to me in a week. And it was only so he could make me feel like an idiot. So yeah, maybe a bit of a dick head. A beautiful , handsome , muscular, six foot seven dickhead. With dark hair and dark lashes that are wasted on a fucking man. Why do MEN get to have the best fucking lashes while I’m forced to wear falsies ? It’s not fair. He’s got tan skin and caramel eyes that shine like fucking gold in the sun. What a jerk. 

Joseph Zamora is a beefy son of a bitch. Offensive tackle for one of the most popular American football teams. He’s a bulky bastard and all fucking muscle. And I can’t even count how many times I’ve seen him and wondered why it would be like to be throw around like a rag doll by that man and his big fucking man paws.  I close my eyes and breathe deep and exhale slowly and ignore the way arousal seeps into my panties thinking about it now. Fucking dick head.  

I’ve been called upon by my father to watch over him for the next few months. Because he killed a sponsorship when he got drunk , and an employee at Kings Burgers asked him why he was there instead of at  Big Macs with whom he has promotes through commercial and Instagram posts.  Being caught at the rival burger joint wasn’t his main offense. It was the response a customer filmed with their cellphone and posted online that went viral which killed the sponship. 

“I don’t eat that fuckin shit” he’d  grumbled as a tiny blonde giggled under his arm. 

So yeah, needless to say Big Macs wasn’t too happy with that. And now , I was here to keep him on his best behavior. Before all his sponsors dropped him. Not that his contract to play football isn’t enough money to keep the man well off for the rest of his life. But losing sponsors isn’t a good look. And if that big brute continues to open his grumpy fucking mouth and shit all over the hand that feeds him, he may just very well lose his contract to play too. Okay. Probably not. Because some footballers do far worse shit and the NFL doesn’t bat a fucking eye. But we’re thinking worst case scenarios here. And we’re trying to make this man his money, because it’s what makes my dad money, what makes ME money. 

———

We’re in the back of his suv as his driver takes us to the beach.

“I’m not wearing that shit.” He growls as I show him a clip on another footballers Instagram who’s already on site of the photo shoot. It’s just shoulder pads and pants. 

“It’s for charity. So if they want you in a god damn tutu, you’ll wear what they give you.”  I tell him and take my phone back. He grabs it back. 

I let him have it. Thinking he’s going to just look at the clip again but then he starts tapping and going back to my main page. 

“Hey!” I say and reach over and he chuckles. It’s hot. Joseph Zamora smiling while laughing. Will be the thing I drain the charge on my vibrator to tonight before bed. 

“I want to see why your page is private. You got one of those naughty pages ,Mommy?” He asks and I growl at him which only makes him laugh more. 

“Don’t. Call me that again.” I snap and snatch my phone and he’s laughing but when he looks at me. He sees my face, sees how serious I am. 

“I won’t call you Joey Roo anymore. And you don’t call me that. Deal?” I bite out and his smile is gone and he nods. 

“It’s just a joke.” He says. 

“I don’t care. It’s not funny.” I say and tuck my phone onto my lap and look out the window. 

“Shoshana.” He says my name and I shake my head. 

“Hey” he says softly and I take a deep breath. 

“You bust my balls with Joey Roo, I was just …giving it back to ya, ya know? I’m sorry.” He says and I grit my teeth. 

He’s right. I’m not being fair. 

“You can still call me Joey Roo if you want.” He says and force myself to keep my lips from smiling. 

“No. I won’t call you it anymore.” I say. Still not looking at him. “Our realationship should be professional anyways. And teasing you isn’t professional. My mistake. It won’t happen again.” I say. 

He sighs heavily. 

“But it’s cute.” He mutters. 

I turn my head. 

“What?” I ask and he’s looking out his own window and turns his head to me. 

“Your ball busting. It’s cute.” He says. His eyes on mine.

“I’m not here to be cute Zamora.” I say and he shrugs. 

“Whatever.” He says and slouches into his seat and puts his head back and reclines the seat. 

“Wake me when it’s time for tutus.” He says and closes his eyes and a little breath of air bubbles from the small laugh that escapes me. 

“Good boy.” I say and his eye peeks open and he looks at me. 

“That’s not…I wasn’t…” I shake my head realizing I definitely just said something a “mommy” would say.  

He gives a slow smirk and then his eyes close again and I take another slow quiet breath and shake my head. God. I needed to just shut up and probably stick to one word answers like he does.