I Slept with my Acrotomophile Boss

My dad called me right after I got paid.

He said my little brother needed money for school, Grandma had medical bills, and there was still the rent, water, and electricity.

Then, at the end of the call, he admitted he’d lost money gambling.

I sat in the security booth, rubbing my bad leg, completely lost for what to do.

A car horn blared, and I quickly raised the security bar.

Just one look and you could tell how expensive the car was.

It belonged to the boss, who had a thing for amputees.

Damn it.

I kicked the table leg hard to vent.

Not long after, I heard a knock on the window of the security booth.

I looked up. "Oh, it's you, Mr. Grant."

"Sorry about making you wait. I had to pick up a call."

Charles Grant stood next to the window with a small smile. There was a glint in his eye. The warm look on his face seemed fake.

"That's okay. I did not wait too long.

"You look like you're in a bad mood. Is everything all right?"

I leaned against the door, resting my bad leg, and waved it off.

“I am fine. Just lost a game, that is all.”

Charles looked down. His eyes lingered on my leg with a strange kind of hunger.

That’s how rich people were. Their lives were so comfortable, they ended up with weird fetishes.

He enjoyed men, excitement, and was an acrotomophile.

Charles licked his lips. His narrowed eyes showed both concern and a spark of something harder to name.

“It’s been raining a lot. Your leg must feel worse.”

“I’m fine.”

The conversation should have ended there.

However, he stayed. Charles hesitated, then spoke softly.

"I don't come here often. I am looking for someone to help me take care of my house. Can you help me find someone suitable if you have time?"

Poor people have no dignity. He had set the stage, and I was prepared to take it.

"There's no need for that. What do you think of me?"

So, I quit my security job and moved into Charles’ house.

My salary was 20,000 a month. All I had to do was clean the house. I could even visit my grandmother at the hospital during the day.

If only Charles did not throw me perverted looks.

This would have been the world's best job.

Tonight, a stranger called the house to inform me that Charles was drunk, and I should go get him.

The garage was filled with expensive cars. I picked the flashiest one and drove to the bar.

He was dead drunk. His face was flushed, and his eyes were red. He looked like he had too much makeup on.

I had to half carry and half drag him home. I flung him onto the bed.

His arms were around my neck, and he refused to let go. His lips kept brushing gently across my face.

If something seemed too good to be true, it must be.

I knew this man had always been up to something.

As I pushed his chin away, I frowned and said, "You're drunk, Boss."

There was a glint in Charles' eyes. He tilted his head slightly but did not meet my eyes.

What was he being coy about? If he wanted me, just take me already.

There was no need to hesitate if he paid me enough.

Charles was slender and had fair skin. He had a petite face that looked as pretty as a woman.

It was not a difficult choice for me. I lowered my head to kiss him. My tongue found its way into his mouth as I kissed him deeply.

Charles' eyes popped open wide. He was delightfully surprised.

His tongue made its way into my mouth as he gently licked my teeth. His breathing became heavier.

I carefully backed away while caressing his waist. It was a dirty move to take advantage of him.

"You probably won't remember anything when you're so drunk…"

I could feel his body stiffen under the caress of my palm. However, he slowly relaxed, as if he was really completely drunk.

It was not smart to talk about love at this point, while talking about money would just kill the romantic atmosphere.

Being a lustful little thug was the right move.

It was best to take things slow.

I did not like it when things moved too fast.

However, Charles did not agree with me.

He caressed my broken ankle. There were still scars on my calf.

However, it did not deter him. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying it so much that he refused to stop.

His finger lingered and moved up the bend of my knee.

It got closer to where it would cross the line.

I kicked him gently like I was teasing a pet dog.

"Focus on kissing, or I'll leave."

Charles pulled his hand back and bent over me. He started nibbling hard on my chest.

"I want you, Holden Jones."