Page 52 of When I Was His

“Not tonight.”

Oliver stood and once again adjusted his shorts. His erection had barely abated and was still as large as it had been a few minutes ago. I looked at it longingly, wanting to open his shorts.

“I need to use your bathroom,” Oliver stated, his tone urgent.

“I hope you aren’t going to do something that I could help with,” I replied, eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“I have to urinate,” he admitted, almost sheepishly.

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I think in your state, it would end up on the ceiling.”

Oliver snorted. “Cute. Where is the bathroom?”

I pointed down the hall, my gaze lingering on him as he walked away. Minutes ticked by before he returned.

“Took you long enough,” I remarked.

“I needed to employ some breathing exercises to fix my issue,” he explained.

“I could’ve fixed your issue,” I teased.

“I need to leave. I’d like to see you tomorrow,” he said abruptly.

I bit my lip, feeling a sense of hesitation. “I guess.”

“What’s the matter?” Oliver asked, sensing my reluctance.

“I have the whole apartment to myself. Sadie isn’t coming home tonight,” I confessed.

“You want company?” he offered.

“Would you stay?” I asked, almost pleadingly.

“Can you keep your hands to yourself?” he challenged.

“I could try,” I replied, though uncertainty laced my words.

“Not good enough. Give me your word, and I’ll stay,” he demanded.

I hesitated, unsure if I could keep such a promise. “I promise.”

“Then I’ll stay,” he agreed.

As he took out his phone and tapped a text, I couldn’t help but ask, “Who did you text?”

“Vlad. He’s waiting for me,” Oliver revealed casually.

“Waiting? Where?” I inquired, surprised.

“Somewhere in the area,” he replied nonchalantly.

“You made that poor man wait?” I chided him lightly.

“He gets paid well to wait and do other things. If you wanted something to eat, I could have him bring it,” he offered.

“No. I know how it feels to be an errand girl. It’s all I seem to do at work,” I declined.

Oliver sat down beside me, his touch gentle as he stroked my hair. “You don’t like your job?”

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