Page 13 of False Comeback

It would give me back some power.

“I’ll think about it. I’m not that easy to manipulate, Crossbody.”

“I would never try to manipulate you, Holt,” I said with an ingratiating smile, which made him snort.

“Sure.” He drew a loveheart around the penis he’d doodled, then tapped his pen against his lips as he sat back and gazed at me thoughtfully. “I might be inclined to think about it even more if you tell me why you want to fight Vince. If not for personal reasons.”

Because I sucked his cock last night and I have no fucking idea why and I don’t know what to do about it.

I was not going to be the subject of even more gossip. Especially not this particular titbit.

No one could ever, ever find out what had happened.

A sudden realisation made my insides clench with fear. What if Vince had already told some of the others? Dan or Heidi or Gabe?

What if he’d told all of them?

What if he’d sauntered into work and announced, ‘Crossbody is a desperate cockslut who sucked my dick in the middle of the backstage area last night. I fucked his throat and came all over his face. He loved it. He couldn’t get enough. He’s pathetic.’

To my utter mortification, my cock twitched. I locked down my emotions even tighter, because Holt was watching me with fascination, and lifted my chin.

“I’ve already told you.” My voice was even hoarser now. “To prove that I won’t let personal feelings affect my performance, and to give Vince”—the name dropped venomously from my lips—“and I the chance to work through our disagreement in a professional capacity.”

“How very noble of you,” Holt said dryly. “Well, like I said, I’ll consider it.”

I gritted my teeth and dipped my head in a minuscule nod. “Fine.”

“Actually, while I have you,” he said brightly, reaching for his desk drawer. “Beef Teef’s sponsorship of Goliaths Online is going so well that a few other brands have reached out. One of them specifically asked for you to be the face of theirs.”

I paused, my interest piqued. “Oh?”

“It could be big for us. They sent over a sample of what they have in mind…” He pulled something out of his drawer and held it up with a winning smile.

I stared in disbelief at the sparkly purple jockstrap in his hands. Printed along the waistband was the brand name—FAE BOYZ.

“Absolutely not.”

Holt pouted. “But it’s a fae-owned brand! Don’t you want to, I dunno, give back to your people or whatever?”

“The fae who live here are not ‘my people,’” I reminded him.

“You know what I mean.” He stretched the waistband and gave me an encouraging look. “They’re nice and stretchy. Comfortable. Lots of ball room.”

I didn’t want to know how he knew that.

“No, Holt.”

“But they even want you to do a modelling shoot with them. A promotional campaign. It’d be more like a collab deal than an endorsement. They said it’d be a range styled in the colours of your wings and stuff.” He peered at me eagerly over the jockstrap. “Have you ever considered modelling? You’d be great at it.”

I resisted the urge to toss my hair back over my shoulder and preen a little. I would be great at modelling. I knew how to pose to look my best at all times. I took excellent care of my appearance. I was stunningly beautiful. I’d been told that enough times.

But still. Sparkly jockstraps.

If my mother found out…

“No.” I shook my head. “One of the others can do it. Just because it’s a fae-owned brand doesn’t mean a fae needs to be the face of it. Get Dan or someone. Or Gabe.”

“If you want me to consider your match against Vince…” Holt trailed off leadingly, still giving me a big, toothy smile.