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While all I felt was a bone-deep sort of frustration as I moved to sit up on the desk.
“Saylor?” she called, and I could see her flicking lights on as she made her way closer.
Anthony, in his panic to lean down and grab his forgotten jacket to, likely, cover his raging hard-on, rammed his head against the desk, mumbling a curse as he quickly stood just as my mother came into the doorway.
“Sayl—oh,” she said, pressing her lips together as her eyes lit up in amusement as Anthony turned to face her, knuckles white he was clutching his jacket so hard, seemingly completely oblivious to the little trickle of blood moving down his temple when my mom flicked on the light.
“Anthony left his jacket here,” I said, trying not to laugh at the shade of scarlet Anthony’s neck was taking on.
“I see that,” my mom said, having to swallow hard not to laugh. “You two are all rumpled,” she said, and I watched the redness move from Anthony’s neck to his ears. “You must have had a busy day,” she added. “You know,” she went on, “chasing bad guys and such,” she added with a nod.
“Yeah. Ah, busy,” Anthony agreed, sounding like he was choking on his words as he wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole right then.
On the plus side, I imagined his hard-on was good and gone by now.
“Oh, honey, you’re bleeding,” she said, zeroing in on his face. “Saylor, honey, you should take him to the locker room and… fix him all up,” she said.
Anthony’s hand rose, touching the blood, then wiping it carelessly on his shirt. “No. No, I’m fine. I should, ah, get going. Tomorrow at ten?” he asked, turning toward me, but not quite looking at me before rushing out of the door to go be mortified in peace.
My mom turned to watch him go, lips twitching as he tore out of the gym like his ass was on fire.
“Bad timing, huh?” she asked, finally letting out a little laugh as she turned back to me.
“It’s probably for the best,” I admitted, sucking in a deep breath, ignoring the way my sex was clenching hard in objection to things stopping just before the grand finale.
“Next time you break in to have sex on my desk, can you at least lock the door behind you?” she asked, leaning over to pick up a folder we must have knocked to the ground whilst otherwise engaged.
“We really did come for his jacket,” I admitted, hopping off of the desk. “And we were both fully clothed,” I reminded her.
“Yes,” she agreed, smiling, “but for how long?”
My mother and I had long-since moved on from anything resembling discomfort about topics like sex since she walked in on me mid doing it with my high school boyfriend in my own bed.
She’d always been more of a ‘if you’re mature enough to do it, you’re mature enough to talk about it’ kind of mom. So there’d been a lot of talking after that. About consent, condoms, birth control, making sure I wasn’t letting a guy get away with not making it a mutually satisfying act. Because, as she said, ‘if he’s not as concerned about your pleasure as your own, he should get a sex doll, not a woman.’
“Did I trigger some sort of silent alarm?” I asked as I followed her back out of the office.
“No. I was actually getting food down the street, and I noticed when I was coming out that the gate was up. So I came to check.”
“Were you out with someone?” I asked, trying not to seem like I was prying. Really, I would be happy for her if she dated again.
“Oh, just a group from the gym,” she said, waving it off. “So, you’re seeing Anthony tomorrow too?”
“We’re taking the ferry to Staten Island.”
“How… romantic?” she said, brows furrowing.
“It’s for work,” I said, rolling my eyes at her as we flicked off lights and made our way back out to the street.
“Sure. Sure. Work. But wouldn’t it be a lot more fun to play with him instead of work with him?”
“Mother,” I grumbled, getting a laugh out of her.
“Oh, please, you want to climb that man like a tree and we both know it,” she said as we started to walk.
She wasn’t wrong.
“Well, we can play after the job is done. I don’t want the hormones clouding my judgment.”
