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She stayed silent as I slowly began to pump my fingers, curling them just enough to get that same rise out of her that she gave me back in Oahu. She felt better than I remembered, softer, warmer. The moment my thumb started to circle her clit, she whimpered, her knees buckling.
I shoved my knee between her legs to keep her upright.
Moving my lips to her ear and leaving little kisses along the way, I whispered, “Tell me, Lottie, did it feel as good as when I buried myself inside of you?”
“No.” The little break in her voice nearly made me take my jeans off right fucking then. “It didn’t.”
The more I worked at her, the more she came undone in my hands. A pool of her dampness formed in my palm, and I wanted nothing more than to taste it, to devour her, to drink her in like fucking water. “How long?” I asked. I took her earlobe between my teeth, giving it a little tug. “How long were you touching yourself before I showed up?”
Her breaths came quicker, shallower, her walls closing in. I knew damn well she was approaching the edge. “A, close to an hour, I guess,” she whimpered.
Holy fucking shit. She’d been at it for a while. No wonder she was falling apart around my fingers. “Did you come?”
“No.”
A dark, hearty laugh bubbled up from my throat. The temptation to stop just before she tumbled over the edge, just to drive the knife in, was so intense I nearly let myself do it. But that would only make her more frustrated, only anger her more. And I wanted to calm her down.
Her walls tightened. She gasped for air, moaning between breaths, fingernails digging into my chest. So close. So fucking close.
“Do you want to come for me?” I asked, veiling my voice with sympathy, still fighting the urge to stop and deny her what she wanted more than anything.
“Please,” she muttered. I circled faster, pumped my fingers just a little bit harder. “Fuck, oh my God, please.”
“Please what?”
“Please can I come?”
Those four words were almost enough to make me feral. I fucking savored them every time I heard them, no matter who they came from, but coming from her lips made them sound so much sweeter than any other time I’d heard them before. She was going to drive me insane. “Come,” I growled. “Come for me, Lottie.”
As if on command, her body snapped, her legs fully giving out as her orgasm tore through her. I kept her upright with my knee, taking the brunt of her weight, and fucked her with my fingers long enough to let her ride the wave that left her gasping for air and clutching onto me.
“Good girl.”
Chapter 8
Lottie
Three days. It had been three days since I’d last seen Hunter, three days since he’d talked me into six months by his side. Three days since he’d managed to get under my skin once again, three days since he’d made me come on his goddamned hand.
Three days since I’d had a thought without him in it.
I was wearing my loose-fitting painting jeans and an old, long-sleeved black top I didn’t care about. I wasn’t sure if my training today would take me into the stables or require getting my hands dirty, so I’d dressed for it just in case. Even brought my rain boots just to make sure that I had something for my feet if I had to scoop manure.
Hank, the man I was taking over for, had decided it would be mostly office work, though.
We’d spent the last two days going over my duties and which stables would be under my command. The Harris’ kept twelve stables on their property—six for breeding, three for racing, and three for auctioning. I would be in charge of the breeding ones and the staff that came along with them.
Learning names had been the tricky part. Hank was easy, and I was with him the most. Dana, of course, I already knew. But the rest were fresh faces, people I’d never met and people who weren’t exactly happy that someone so young would be taking over for their manager. Some were likely annoyed that Hunter hadn’t promoted from within the business, and I couldn’t blame them.
“I’m taking lunch,” Hank said, his half-eaten sandwich in one hand and a newspaper in the other. His feet were up on what was soon to be my desk, his body leaning back in the chair that was meant for me.
I assumed his announcement about lunch was a request for me to get lost.
Making my way out to stable number four, my boots squished into the wet grass, a result from the night of rain we had. If Hank wanted time alone, then I might as well use my own lunch break to catch up with Dana and see how she was getting along. Hunter had promised me that although she’d be starting in the stable, he’d have her by my side once Hank was gone in two weeks. Don’t want him throwing a fit for not giving him an assistant, he’d said.
Dana sat on an upside-down bucket, brush in hand as she worked at de-shedding the lower half of a horse I’d yet to learn the name of. She was beautiful—a strong thoroughbred that stood tall, young by the looks of it though very much an adult. Although I didn’t agree with them as a breed, I was still able to appreciate their beauty and strength.
Dana’s smile when she saw me was enough to tell me that she was at least enjoying herself.
