Chapter 19 – Rhiannon
My cheeks flush a lovely shade of red. I really should have just held my pee. If you hold it for long enough, can you reabsorb it somehow? Maybe if I ran out of here super-fast, I’d have excreted it through my sweat. Is that a thing?
Even urinating on the middle of his floor and then mopping it up would have been less humiliating than the awkward situation that I’m in right now.
I try to cover as much of my skin as possible while staying seated.
My bare thighs and the top of my ass are exposed to his gaze though, and he does nothing to hide his staring.
“Look, this isn’t like a Maid in Manhattan situation where I’m in your closet getting caught trying on your fancy, expensive furs.”
“Made in what?” he asks, completely confused.
“Oh my, of course you haven’t seen that movie. Wait, don’t you have a sister?”
He nods. “Is it a chick flick?”
“Chick? That’s a bit demeaning and outdated, don’t you think? Especially for a lawyer.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and rubs dramatically. “You know what I meant.”
“Yes, it’s a ‘chick flick’ and a damn good one. You should watch it some time when you’re sitting at home on your white couch that never gets used.”
“Stop trying to deflect. Now that we’ve established that you’re not in here trying on my expensive, non-existent furs. What are you doing? Are you... pooping? Did you clog the toilet?”
“No!” I shout, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The corner of his lips twitches upward.
“It’s okay, pooping is a normal bodily function.”
“I’m not. I had to pee and couldn’t hold it anymore. I was going to clean the toilet after I finished.”
He chuckles. “I’m just giving you a hard time. What happened?”
“My thong is stuck in the zipper of my skirt.”
“Really?”
“Dead serious. It was supposed to be a quick pee, but I got distracted by my phone and I zipped the silk into the teeth of it.”
He smiles and shakes his head before stepping into the bathroom then dropping to his knees, kneeling before me. Now at eye level, I see he looks more tired than the last time I saw him.
His warm, green eyes have the slightest bags underneath them and if the clippers setting out on the counter were a sign that he’d recently shaved, it looks like he’d looked at them this morning and decided he didn’t have the energy.
He’s wearing one of his usual, expensive looking suits but his tie is slightly undone, just enough to make me worried that something isn’t right.
“Hey... are you okay?”
He runs his fingers through his soft, brown hair, messing it up. “Not really.”
“Is there something that I can help you with?”
He chuckles. “Unless you can turn around my losing streak and tell my dad to piss off, no.”
I bite down on my lip, feeling a small shred of guilt. I know taking his boxers couldn’t have anything to do with that, but I figure I’ll offer.
“Do you want the lucky boxers back?”
He smiles. “No. I meant what I said. You look better in them.”
“Why do you think you keep losing?”
He hesitates before turning his full gaze on me again and there’s something much more sincere behind his eyes this time and holy hell, does being captured in his sight do something to my core.
He takes off his glasses and rubs them on his shirt before putting them back on.
“I’m distracted.”
I don’t ask him by what, I have a feeling it’s me. Because he’s been distracting me too.
It’s been mostly little things like confusing the names of my clients during a therapy session when that never happens, mixing up chemicals when cleaning. The other day, I uploaded a photo of our old family dog to the family thrift store page instead of a desk that Eden had sent me.
“Just tell me exactly what you need me to do to get your thong out,” he says, breaking the moment.
“This is lawyer Cain I’m talking to, isn’t it?”
“I’ve seen enough cases where women have ‘accidentally gotten their thongs stuck in their zippers and needed help.’ They usually turn into her accidentally giving him a blow job. ‘Accidentally.’”
I snort when I let out my laugh, which only causes Cain’s smile to grow and his eyes to soften.
“How is it possible that a woman so small can have such an obnoxious laugh?”
“Oh, shut up. It’s not obnoxious.” I shove his shoulder playfully which does nothing to move him. The guy’s built like a tank.
What is it about him? He makes me go from one minute swooning and licking my lips over his drool worthy body to laughing at his stupid sense of humor and then getting pissed off all over again.
“You think it’s that funny to imagine dropping to your knees and giving me a blow job right here? You’re kind of in the position for it. If I stood up, you’d be at the perfect angle. Plus, you’ve got that look on your face.”
“What look says ‘I want to give you a blow job while I sit on the toilet?’”
“The one that’s currently on your face.”
I shake my head. “No, this is my please get me out of this situation face.”
He chuckles. “All I’d have to do is stand right here.” He pretends to make a move to stand up, but I grab his hands and pull him back to his knees.
“No, stop it, you’re ridiculous,” I laugh. “I believe that you’ve seen cases where women have ‘accidentally’ given blow jobs.”
“Good. Now how are we going to do this?”
“Um...” I’m still seated, my skirt around my ankles along with the caught thong. No matter how I move, he’s going to get a full view of my bare ass and pussy.
He raises a brow as if he’s reading my mind.
“Rhiannon, have you forgotten that I’ve already seen every inch of what’s under those cleaning personnel clothes?” His hands slide onto my bare knees, giving a gentle squeeze.
Heat floods my body, the memory of the nights that we spent together hitting me like a wave. My legs part instinctively, a reflex I can’t control, until the sharp reality of the moment hits me again. I’m still sitting on the toilet. With no underwear.
Mortification rises as I catch the look on his face, his eyes sparkling with pure, unrestrained delight that he can control my body so easily.
His voice drops, full on seduction now. “You still think about it, don’t you? I bet you think about it at night when you touch yourself in your cute little blue house.”
I say nothing, knowing that if I do, I’ll give myself away.
But hell yeah, I think about those nights with Cain.
What other memory would I pull from when I haven’t had sex with anyone since him?
He was the last time I had sex and the first time in a long, dry spell due to my demanding work schedules.
“Fuck, Rhiannon, I think about it too.” His thumb draws circles on the inside of my knee, sliding up slightly to my thighs where he squeezes.
My eyes cast downward to find Cain’s very noticeable bulge now straining against the expensive fabric of his suit pants where he’s crouched. When my eyes meet his again it’s all fire and desire.
I know it wouldn’t be hard to get off with him, and fuck, would I love to. No other man’s ever known just how to touch my body the way that Cain does. But there’s a stronger part of me that knows we’re playing with fire.
For how much longer can we continue to run into each other and do this casual thing before my feelings start getting involved? Oh wait, they already have.
Time to put an end to this.
I lean in closer, our lips nearly brushing, trying to ignore the pull of desire that’s building inside me.
My voice drops to a teasing whisper before I say “Tell me, Cain, have you ever actually pooped on this toilet, or do you save all your poops for the office? Because this thing is way too clean to have been used.”
That does the trick at killing the mood. His expression shifts instantly, his face pulling back in a mix of shock and disbelief as his brows furrow.
“Seriously, Rhiannon?”
I laugh, the sound light and victorious, pleased that I’ve managed to deflect his attention and stall his advances—even if every fiber of me wants to give into them.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to stand and try to pull the skirt as high as I can get it without zipping it all the way.
I’ll turn around then I need you to try backing the zipper straight out of the grooves without tearing the fabric of my thong,” I instruct, my tone pure business now.
“If you can get the angle of the fabric right, it should naturally untangle. I just can’t reach it from here without stripping the whole thing off, and I’m not giving you that kind of show. ”
“Why not?”
I playfully smack his hand away as he wets his lips and stands, waiting for me to move into position.
“Turn around,” I tell him once he’s standing up.
“Why? I’ve already seen you naked plenty of times.”
“Twice is not plenty of times.”
“Once would be once, and anything more than one time is plenty of times, but not hardly enough if we’re being honest.”
“Your logic is ridiculous. Turn around.”
“You’ve never been self-conscious with me.”
“Cain...”
He sighs. “Would it help if I showed you mine? I’m not wearing a thong today, but I can let you see the briefs I have on. Maybe you’d like to add them to your collection.”
“No!”
He laughs and puts up his hands in surrender, his green eyes softer now. “Okay, okay. Fine.”
He spins around and folds his arms over his chest as I hop off the toilet, yank the skirt as high as it can go and tug hard on the zipper.
It hardly budges from its place rooted within my silk underwear but it’s enough that my front is now somewhat covered, though the top half of my ass crack is still exposed to the warm, bathroom air.
“Okay, you can turn around now.”
He turns, a big grin on his face as he steps forward.
“I could see you in the mirror the whole time.”
“Shut up.”
He laughs and shakes his head then his hands find my hips, spinning me around until he can access the stuck zipper.