1

Noah pressed the answer button on the intercom and cleared his throat before responding. "Yes, I'm here," he said.

His eyes widened when he looked down at his lower abdomen. There was a bulge! He was having an er*ction from that dream. And where did that dream even come from? He didn’t lust after his assistant, for God’s sake.

"Sir, can I come in? I'm bringing you a cup of coffee. Also, Mr. Maverick Logan called—he’s requesting a meeting with you."

Ingrid had only been working for him for three days. She was temporarily replacing his executive assistant, Mariz, who was on indefinite leave. He had already gone through three different temps—courtesy of his cousin Raffy, the RTA’s managing director, who was clearly messing with him.

Raffy had assigned him young, beautiful women dressed in s*xy outfits, the complete opposite of Mariz, who was in her late forties and dressed conservatively. It wouldn’t have been a problem if only those three women knew what they were doing. But they didn’t. They weren’t smart or efficient—not by his standards, at least. Eventually, he snapped at Raffy, who then reluctantly assigned him Ingrid, her best staff, she claimed. So far, he had no complaints about her.

Noah cleared his throat again. "Just..." He doesn't usually swear, but at that moment, he wanted to scream the F word out loud. "Give me a second. I'll call you back," he said before rushing to the restroom in his office.

He originally intended to cool down his arousal with cold water, but that idea flew right out the window. His body was demanding something else now, and he had to give in. The f*cker wouldn’t go down! It had even gotten harder the moment he heard Ingrid’s voice over the intercom.

"This is insane," Noah muttered as he pulled down his trousers and boxers.

He began stroking his m*nhood in front of the sink. When he closed his eyes, the vivid imagery from his dream came back to him—tauntingly. His hand was nothing compared to the softness and heat of that p*ssy in his dream. He could still feel the sensation it caused in his body. His muscles hardened with every thrust of his length into his partner. It had felt too real. If that dream had gone on longer, he probably would’ve woken up with a mess in his pants.

Sh*t! He couldn’t stop. Ingrid was the one he saw in his imagination as his hand quickly pumped his member. Ingrid was bouncing up and down on his lap as her healthy br*asts jiggled.

Noah had to restrain himself from groaning too loudly as he was nearing release. And when he came... Damn! He could easily tell that was the best j*rk-off he had ever had.

He splashed his face with cold water twice—before heading out of the restroom. He was the one who opened the door for Ingrid.

"H-hi," she greeted, looking a little bashful.

Ingrid always seemed shy and quiet. She rarely spoke and didn’t seem to mingle much with the other employees.

Noah took the coffee cup and saucer from her and motioned for her to walk ahead toward his desk.

Ingrid was wearing a long pencil skirt and a white blouse with three-quarter sleeves—just like in his dream. She even had on black stockings...

No. No. He had to forget about that dream. He knew exactly why he’d dreamt something so dirty. It was also the reason he ended up napping at his desk. He let his cousin Cade convince him to watch a live show last night. Cade actually came to his house and literally dragged him out of bed just when he was about to sleep. They went to a secret club that showed live p**n to its customers. It was a high-end place, and from what he heard, it had police protectors, which was why it never got raided.

He gestured for Ingrid to sit in the chair across his desk. She was sitting almost at the edge of the seat, like royalty.

"Let’s check my calendar," Noah said once he’d taken his seat.

It felt awkward. He was now face-to-face with the very woman from his dirty, sinful dream. And not just that—she had been the subject of his vivid imagination while he was pleasuring himself earlier. He had to force himself not to swallow hard.

"You're free this Friday at eleven AM onwards, Sir. Mr. Logan is also free at that time," she said.

She’s reliable, he thought. She had already asked for the availability of the other party.

"Schedule a lunch meeting then—eleven-thirty, at Red."

He observed Ingrid’s face. The woman possessed an almost ethereal beauty. She could pass as an angel or a saint. He just wasn't sure about her body. Because based on what he saw of her nakedness in his dream, it definitely wasn't a saintly image.

"Okay, Sir. Do you have any seating preference?"

"Preferably by the wall."

"Got it. I’ll reserve a table and call Mr. Logan to confirm."

"I’ll call him myself. It’s been a while since we last spoke."

Noah and Maverick Logan were friends. Maverick was a Filipino-American and a well-known international model. RTA discovered him and still managed him. Noah recalled that Maverick’s contract with the agency was about to end.

"And one more thing—you don’t have to make me coffee. That’s not part of your job," Noah reminded her. "We have staff for that, or I can make it myself."

When will Mariz be back? Hers was the only coffee blend he liked. But he didn’t want to force her to return to work right away. Mariz had been with RTA for a long time—she had even been the executive assistant of his uncle, the agency’s original owner. That woman could practically run the whole place if she wanted to. That’s how good she was. She was currently on leave because her mother was seriously ill. She said she still doesn’t know when she’ll be able to return to work.

"I understand, Sir. I got some coffee for myself, so I thought I’d get you one too," Ingrid replied. "Is there anything else, Sir?" she asked when he didn’t say anything.

"Yeah. How old are you, Ingrid?"

Confusion flickered on her face. "Twenty-six."

"I’ll be thirty-two this year. I’m not that old, I guess, so there’s no need to call me with much formality."

She gave a shy smile. "Okay. I won’t do that again... Sir."

"Thank you."

She was already at the door when he took a sip of the coffee. The door was already ajar when he stopped his executive assistant by calling her name.

She quickly turned to face him. "Yes, Sir?"

"This coffee..." Noah said, then took another sip. "It’s fantastic. Perfect balance of sweetness and bitterness."

Yeah, better than Mariz’s. This was the kind of black coffee blend he’d been looking for.

"I’m changing my mind. If it’s not too much to ask, will you please make my coffee every day, Ingrid? I’ll pay you extra if I have to."

Ingrid laughed. "No bribe needed, Sir. It would be my pleasure to make your coffee every day."

As she turned around again, Noah couldn’t help but steal a glance at the perfect curve of her a*s. His fingers involuntarily clenched very slowly—imagining his nails digging into those two luscious mounds.

Noah cursed himself in his head, then took another sip of his coffee. He was just s*xually frustrated and deprived—he fully admitted that. M*sturbation no longer satisfied him. He hadn’t had any action in a while, ever since he broke up with the last woman he dated.

Was it half a year already?

He and Dana decided to separate because they noticed a lack of interest in each other. He was not interested in her to begin with. They were just introduced by common friends. The woman had then immediately expressed her attraction to him. They decided to try going out. It was nice, at least. They got along for two months. The s*x part was fun. The s*x part was fun. And Dana was never lacking when it came to that part. In fact, she even asked for parting s*x, and he made it memorable for her. He f*cked her rough and wild on the hood of his car. Outdoors, in the dark.

Dana was shocked at the time. She hadn’t expected that from him. They usually had s*x in bed because he wanted her to be comfortable. They hadn’t really done it outdoors. Maybe, at the back of his mind, he just wanted to show her exactly what kind of pleasure she was about to lose.

While his c*ck speared in and out of her, Dana even joked that she almost wanted to change her mind, as if she didn't want to break up anymore. And Noah had sensed a hint of sincerity in her voice. But he had already made up his mind at that moment. He just felt it was time to let her go. As much as she didn’t say it outright, he could feel she was looking for something more serious—something that could lead to marriage. And she never saw that in him.

Damn it all to h*ll. S*x was his only real problem these days. It was simple. So why was he torturing himself? He wasn’t planning to be a priest. And he certainly had absolutely no intention of letting his prized buddy—already the subject of teasing from his younger brother and cousins—wither away. They said it might already be rusting, covered in cobwebs or moss. It might even throw a tantrum, leave him all of a sudden, and go rally on the highway holding a placard that says C*CK LIVES MATTER. Those jerks.

He needed to get laid very soon.