The Beast is a Sex Addict

Chapter 6

Adam  a/k/a the Beast

"We have a problem."

"Of course we do?" I snarled sarcastically. Everything was a problem. Jack was a fucking drama queen.  I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples.  My fingers snagged on the band holding the mask to my face, with another snarl I ripped the mask away from my face.  I heard a female sigh from a distance and rubbed my temples even harder.  Just then my phone beeped with yet another text. 

"Are you going to get that?" Jack asked in a nasty voice.

I flipped him the bird and reached into my back pocket to grab my emergency stash of Advil. I popped three tablets in my mouth hoping to prevent the migraine that was bound to come. I grabbed a mug and poured a draft beer. I quickly downed that.

"You know alcohol and medicine do not mix?" Jack said with concern.

Did I mention that Jack was fucking annoying.

"For God's stake give it a rest."  I whined.

I was seriously tempted to pop another Advil.  That headache was getting stronger by the second.
Of course it might have something to do with my phone beeping a reminder "Unread Text-Asshole". Okay, it really didn't beep that but that's what I heard every damn time it chirped again. I reluctantly pulled my phone out.  I looked up towards the recess lightening praying to the God of Booze, Loose Woman and every heavenly vice known to man to let the text from anyone but Coach Dickhead.   It was a good thing I didn't gamble because I would have lost. I wished just once that it was anybody else texting me. Even a wrong number would work.

Text 5

"Listen up asshole. You are on PROBATION. You are obligated to report in.  If you can't follow the rules then we have a problem."

Really, he was just now realizing there was a problem. The man was a fucking genius, I thought sarcastically.

Text 6

"This is my last text."  Thank God. "If you do not respond we will be having a discussion at tomorrow's meeting"

"It is impossible to have conversation with you."  Jack grumbled as he snatched the phone out of my hand. 

The nosey bastard  was reading my texts. I heard him grunt. It was sad but I think it was a grunt of laughter. The mother fucker was enjoy himself.

Just then Aaron came over and patted my back like a fucking baby. I really wanted to rip his head off. I moved away from him and growled.

"I know some good breathing techniques." He said.

"I'm not having a damn baby, Aaron." I snapped.

"Boss, you need to learn how to relax. I think Massage Envy is having a special. Do you want me to make you an appointment for a back massage?" Aaron asked in a voice so gentle it sounded like he was trying to coach a kitten down from the tree. Here kitty, kitty come get your treat - a nice massage.

" I. Don't. Need. A. Massage."

Both of them, Jack and Aaron, gave me a what the fuck look and a you're crazy look.

"Suzy works there, she has big melons and a nice"

"One, two, three...". I started counting out loud. I was losing my patience.

"I was going to say hands." Jack mumbled.

"No you weren't. You were going to say ass. I know you were and I agree with you. Her ass is a-mazing." Aaron said.

"Five, six, seven" I continued.  I was not going to listen to this shit. I could care less about some unknown girl's tits even if she did have an "a-mazing ass."

"Scientific studies have shown that taking deep breaths is a much more effective way of calming down."

I looked up praying for heavenly intervention or maybe a lightening bolt to strike me dead.

"Aaron, I don't think Adam gives a shit about the scientific community."  Jack said.

"Duh, 8, 9, 10.   Kill me now."

Jack snorted. I gave him a sharp look but my attention was snagged on his  hands.  His damn hands still had my cell phone.  His damn hands were tapping my screen like a  drummer finding his grove.  Frankly, I was afraid to find out what he was doing.  Okay, I knew what he was doing but honestly I was scared of what his text to Coach Dickhead would say.  Jack could be the nicest guy in the world but he had moments were he went mental.  I mean,  I heard him singing about putting our service to the test while he was prepping the tables yesterday afternoon.

I took a deep breath . Shit, Aaron physiological bullshit was getting to me. I reached for the bottle of scotch behind me. I needed something strong.

Jack looked up mid-tap, "Put that bottle down."

My middle finger flew into the air. It was a gut reaction to that bossy tone of voice.  I don't take orders well.  Hence, my current situation with Coach Dickhead. 

Jack fucking tutted.  My response was to pour a nice long shot into a glass.   I raised my cup in a silent to toast to him.

Jack the little mother fucker, merrily waved my phone in the air before he took off with it. Oh shit, this could go either way. Jack had dirt on me. Not that I really give a shit but I could see him sending incriminating photos of some random hookup. Or he could respond to Coach Dickhead that he was sleeping. Wait that would get him in trouble because the asshole would assume it was with someone. No Jack needed to come up with a better excuse like he was driving. Yep that would work, it was illegal to text and drive in Miami. Shit, I really didn't need this crap.

I picked up my drink. Malted Scotch, it went down smoothly. I really though about pouring another one, but drinking even if it was for fortification wasn't going to resolve my problems. It especially wasn't going to resolve the court order making me attend the SAA meeting. I needed to do something to resolve that. Maybe Jack was right when he said I need a wife but honestly I never met anyone I wanted to live with. They all wanted sex and access to my credit card. Like I was going to buy some girl clothes, please.

I could have my attorney draw up a prenup and marry some girl. It would be so worth it if I did not have to see or text Coach Dickhead. Plus maybe a wife would keep the other females away. The problem was finding one I could tolerate.