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Tell tips his head back, snorting sangria as a pop of real laughter slips out. “You got me there. Ever since the night we met, I’ve asked myself the same question. I’ve been worried about misleading you, inadvertently putting up walls, or masks… but it always comes back to one thing.”
“My sweet ass?”
“Definitely that. Seriously, though, the noise, the twitching, choking neurosis of my OCD… it all stops when I’m with you.” It’s real. Raw.
“I believe you. And I trust you.” At my statement, he pulls me close, tasting my lips again.
The more we talk, the more it makes sense. The way he is, his job, the disguises. It’s his way of controlling his world.
If anyone can understand that, it’s me. The peace I feel when I’m with him, with Gavin, and occasionally with Evan, in a very different way. It puts so many of my own fears and traumas to rest.
It allows me to take steps forward, work on myself and stack up the foundation I need to thrive.
“Let’s get out of here.” I don’t bother hiding the heat in my voice. I want more.
My phone vibrates as he pays the bill, pulling me back to reality.
We’ve been sitting here for hours.
Heading to the car, I swipe it open to find…
Evan - Need you to swing by the office. Forgot to shred Fleischman file. Thanks -
Always something…
“Hey, would you mind if we swing by my office? My boss needs me to fix something. Sorry.”
“No problem.” He smiles. Not even a flinch at bringing up Evan.
He takes the shortest route, and I'm hardly surprised that he knows the way. We both smirk at the unspoken admission.
“Come up with me.” I lead the way, heading straight through the lobby and down the hall. The papers and shredder can wait. My hands are tugging his shirt before my office door is closed, slamming my body into his, our groans muffled by the meeting of our lips.
I let my eyes flutter closed, savoring the taste of him, exploring his mouth with mine, exploring his body with my hands. The buttons on his shirt offer me no challenge at all, my own shirt slipped off and tossed on the floor in a clean sweep of his fingers up my torso.
“Oh, Hella…” The look on his face turns my knees to jelly, sending me slumping back to sit against my desk. I let him look for a second before I coax him forward, tipping my head back, exposing my neck and blushing chest.
His lips are on me in a flash, his teeth nipping at my collarbone, down, leaving his mark on my skin as one hand slips around to unfasten my bra. The sound he makes when the lacy fabric slips down is spine-tingling, a moan of longing, relief, surprise.
Those teeth and lips take their time, circling the outer edge of each nipple, the firm, wet tip of his tongue dragging up and around to the tip, nipping with enough pressure to make me gasp, then yelp with pleasure.
I won’t let him have all the fun. With him bent over me, I have easy access, reaching down and popping the button on his pants, forcing the zipper down as I slide my hand into his shorts.
“Fuck,” we both grind out as my fingers circle the silky skin of his rock-hard desire for me. I let my palm skim teasingly back up, the head of his cock throbbing in my hand before I grip harder, jerking up and down slowly.
Our lips lock again as I pull him toward me, only by the staggering length of him between us. My mouth waters at the sight of him, his shirt open, abs and chest rippling as he sighs under my touch, his pants sagging down, letting me see more. His pulsing shaft wrapped in my fingers sends jolts of scalp-prickling lightning through me.
A trickle of sticky, glistening lust dribbles out of him, and I sigh out a whimper, dropping to my knees to lick it up, swirling it around my tongue, then swirling my tongue around his tip, drawing a deep, rumbling growl from him.
Before I can take him into my mouth completely, he reaches down, pulling me up and shoving me back against the desk. “No fair. I want dessert…”
I can’t argue with the searing gaze he nails me with, like emerald fire shooting through me. I can only nod, easing up onto the top of my desk, wiggling as he works my jeans off, his fingernails grazing my flushed, heated skin.
A second of hesitation shoots through me, old insecurities about my weight, my size.
It’s all swept away as he pauses to admire my form, my white panties, already drenched with the sight of his half-naked body. Like he can read my mind, he looks up at me, pinning me with a glance. “I want to taste every inch of your skin.” Spreading my legs is all the permission he needs, and all I can manage, desperate for his touch.
He tears my underwear down, flinging my clothes to the side. His elbows hook under my knees, tilting me back as he lowers himself, kissing down my belly, into the dip of my hips. I let my legs settle onto his shoulders, raising my hand to run my fingers through his honey golden hair.
