Despite the inability for people to find us online unless they have our direct URL, we stay busy. So much so, that more often than not, we have to turn people away, offering them information on other companies that are well versed with helping with the smaller jobs. BBS may have started with small-time investigations for cheating spouses and security details, but we’ve branched out and are more prone to work domestic abductions and terrorism.
As always, there are a couple of the guys hanging out in the breakroom when I walk in. We don’t really have set hours, but some of these guys never seem to go home. It’s not unusual for me to spend several nights a week locked in my office. Of course my time not working in there is spent playing online games and getting lost in online rabbit holes rather than sleeping.
I wave to Ignacio, Gaige, and Brooks on the way to my office. Thankfully, the boss man isn’t around. I get along fine with the guy, but he’s been a surly bastard for the last month, and it’s best to keep my distance.
“Women problems,” I mutter as I throw open the door. “Glad I don’t have to deal with that shit.”
“Loser,” Puff snaps, never wasting the opportunity to irritate me.
“Not a loser,” I argue. “I get girls.”
“Twitter pussy!” he squawks as I unzip the carrier and let him crawl out.
How sad is it that my damn bird is well aware of my preferences for getting laid?
“Ridiculous,” I hiss as I try to ignore the verbal assault and fire up my systems.
I’m not going to waste my breath explaining to an animal that I don’t have time to date. Setting the parameters for online hookups work for me, and there’s no sense in changing something that works.
“You made me forget that damn box.” Puff Daddy heads to his food bowl rather than arguing with the blame I’m throwing his way.
The trip back down to the parking garage is uneventful as always, and since my pet is in a weird mood this morning, I opt to open the damn thing on the table in the breakroom. I’ve been waiting for this package to arrive. The custom-dipped speakers are going to go great with my—
“What the fuck?” I hiss when I fold back the tabs of the box.
I should’ve clamped my mouth shut instead of reacting the way I did because I’ve drawn the attention of every guy in the room, which somehow now includes my boss. Finnegan Jenkins, BBS’s mechanical engineer, moves toward me first, but I don’t have the wherewithal to close the box and carry it to a more private location.
“Is it a fucking bomb?” the Irish warlock asks, but instead of being in fear for his life, he hangs his head over the box, and his cackling laughter echoes around the room, drawing even more attention.
I’m starting to agree with my grandmother on his evilness.
“What?” Brooks Morgan, the covert ops guy of the group asks as he inches closer.
I can honestly say I’m more confused than I’ve ever been. Flipping the tab of the box over, I stare down at the address on the label.
I haven’t ordered anything from Amazon, and I sure haven’t ordered this shit.
“I just picked this up from the front desk of my apartment,” I say, needing to explain.
“The suspense is fucking killing me,” Flynn, BBS’s second in command, says as he also approaches. “Holy shit! I knew you were into some weird shit, but this is eye-opening.”
And as much as I could deny it right now, he’s right. I didn’t order a single thing in this box, but I do have experience with nearly everything I’m seeing. Thousands and thousands of hours spent online can lead you to some really weird places, forcing you to discover things about yourself you never could’ve imagined.
“This isn’t mine,” I explain as Flynn grabs the box and turns the thing over.
Every guy in the room watches as a waterfall of sex toys falls to the table in front of us.
“Wow,” Deacon mutters, but instead of getting angry like I’d expect due to his shitty attitude lately, a smile spreads across his face. “Might as well be a bomb. If you can handle that, call me impressed.”
Heat warms my cheeks as I reach for the item Brooks picked up.
“Dios mio,” Ignacio, our language expert, hisses with a chuckle. “That thing is huge!”
“Twelve inches,” Flynn says, holding the giant dildo to the side to read the label, “and ribbed for her pleasure.”
“The things you learn about people even after all the years of working together,” Gaige tsk-tsks. He’s our acquisitions guy, but I’d put money on the fact that he’s never had to acquire a twelve-inch rubber cock before.
“I didn’t order this shit!” I snap, giving up on ever getting the fake dick away from Flynn.
I take a step back from the table, running my hands over my head and regretting ever showing up today. It’s Sunday for fuck’s sake. I should be playing video games in my underwear, waiting for food to be delivered to my damn door, not dealing with this shit.
“Like hell,” Brooks chuckles as he holds up the box, reading the label much like I did just moments ago. “It says right here that it was delivered to W. Nelson. Apartment number 913.”
“I’m in apartment 1213, dick.” I snatch the box from his hands, examining the label because after seeing the name and realizing it matched mine, I didn’t bother to examine it further. “They gave me the wrong box.”
I feel a small sense of victory because even as awkward as this situation is, I really want those speakers.
“Are you sure?” Ignacio moves the other items around on the table, spreading them out so everyone can see. “I’m sure you can find uses for this ball gag.”
“Use it on
