Chapter 29
Avery
Over the next two weeks, I waited by the phone like a stray dog praying to be let in from the rain.
The anticipation was killing me, as was being kept in the dark from the moment I’d slapped the files down onto Ted’s desk. He’d been surprised to see me, and even more so once he’d lifted the top part of the manila folder and spotted Ana’s name on the first form’s page.
From there, I’d been kept out of the loop with strict orders not to discuss this with anyone else. Well, aside from my accomplice.
In the corporate world, silence was never a good thing. It meant parts were moving without approval and decisions were being made behind closed doors that I wasn’t privy to. None of which were helping with the nagging urge to know what the hell was going on.
Leaving a task like this to the professionals was obviously in my best interest. After all, why else would I have gone through the trouble of hiring a shark like Ted in the first place if he wasn’t up to par with doing his damn job?
He was the best of the best for a reason and not simply because of his impeccable track record inside of the courtroom.
His team was well known for their expertise in digging up dirt that the other side of the bench had long since believed to be buried.
All I needed to do was be patient.
A virtue I severely lacked these days.
Fortunately, the one thing keeping me sane thus far was Brandon and his brilliant distraction methods—namely in the form of him showing me the beauty of exploring each other in every way possible.
Much like this afternoon when I’d stopped by to bring him his lunch, only to find myself with his dick down my throat.
“Fuck,” Brandon’s deep groan had my cock straining in my pants, dying to be let out. “Little more tongue. Right... there.”
The hand in my hair tightened as I dragged up along the hard ridge, my lips puckering at the crown of it that was still slick with my spit. I had a hand fisted around the base of him that I used to stroke up to where my mouth was, meeting in the middle from both ends.
Being on my knees for this man in the middle of his shop’s office while he lounged back in his chair, pants down and legs spread to give me plenty of room to suck him off was hotter than I’d ever imagined.
While I was still new to all of this, I was eager to learn and get a better handle on how to please and pleasure him. I was eager to know exactly what made Brandon tick—or rather squirm and twitch until he was putty in my hands.
So far, Brandon had been an excellent teacher. Showing me the perfect ways to get us both off.
Using my hair, he guided my mouth back down onto him. I sucked him in greedily, happy to hear that soft hitch in his breathing as he buried his cock deeper down my throat.
The sensation was overwhelming. Having another man’s cock tickling the back of my throat wasn’t something I ever thought I’d be capable of being into, let alone readily drop to my knees for the second I’d caught sight of Brandon growing hard after I’d locked the door behind me.
But as Brandon’s desperate moans pitched higher and higher each time my throat tightened around him as he slowly worked himself in and out of my wet mouth, the more I wanted from him. To suck him dry, fuck him deep, get us both off until we were twitching messes on the floor.
“You look so damn good right now,” Brandon mumbled. His face was flushed, eyes half-hooded with desire. I loved him looking at me like that—barely contained and ready to blow at any second.
After unbuttoning my pants and shoving them down partially, I gripped my own aching cock in my hand to stroke it in time with the rolling of Brandon’s hips.
Fuck that felt good.
“That’s it,” he murmured to me. “Keep touching yourself, baby. I want us to come together.”
How the hell did I ever miss this side of Brandon growing up? That he had such a filthy mouth but still said it in the sweetest of ways?
I’d never been into dirty talk before this, or being praised, and yet those words spilling past his lips were fanning the flames inside of me.
I let him take control, fucking my mouth until his ragged breathing grew hoarse.
“Where?” was all he could ground out, hips bucking.
I kept my mouth firmly tight around him, not letting him get the idea to yank me back at the last second and rob me of finally tasting him on my tongue. That was, apparently, all he needed before he choked out a quiet curse and started to come.
The second it splashed against my tongue, I was done for, my own hips bucking while cum spilled all over my hand and dripped down onto the concrete floor under us.
I couldn’t believe this was what I’d been missing out on with him. For years. We had so much to catch up on.
Brandon loosened his grip on my hair, slumping back into his chair as the last few spurts leaked from his cock and coated my tongue in the thick mess. It slid easily down my throat, and was only slightly bitter to the taste.
“You did so good,” he told me, his cock slick with spit and cum as it slid from my mouth. “So, so good.”
My chest was warm from the praise, my head slightly fuzzy from the endorphins still racing through my bloodstream. “Only for you.”
He chuckled, cupping my face in both of his hands. “I like the sound of that.”
There was no way any other man on this planet would get me to do the things I’d done with Brandon. He was his own special breed that I was desperately attracted to and had no interest in changing anytime soon. If ever.
What did that make me? Straight with a clause? An exception?
Whatever.
As long as Brandon was equally as interested in me—in this—I wasn’t at all concerned with labeling myself.
What did it matter in the end when all I wanted, and needed, was him?
Lifting up from my heels while ignoring the pins and needles in my legs, I leaned until I could press my lips against his. Kissing him felt like a drug I needed to survive—a hit that I could barely go twenty minutes without having again.
He stroked his fingers through my scalp to the ends of my hair, gently detangling where he’d been holding it hostage. “You doing okay?”
I smiled, drawing him in for another long and lingering kiss before saying, “Yes.”
He sighed softly, shoulders releasing from the tense hold.
“Worried?” I asked.
“I don’t want to pressure you into anything.”
That had me rolling my eyes. “If anything, I was the one that pressured you at the start of all of this.”
The puzzled look on his face had me sitting back slightly, though I didn’t get very far with the way he was still holding my head. “What are you talking about?’
I ran my tongue along the backs of my teeth. Did I even want to get into this right now? Bring up that faithful morning that had sent me into a fucking spiral that almost had me locking myself away in my family’s mansion like some 1820’s asylum patient out of shame?
I supposed he deserved a proper explanation for what happened. And a far better apology than what I’d been able to give him at the time.
“The night after I visited your shop drunk.” I sighed. “I... when I woke up, I was feeling a little... out of sorts. You were just—you smelled so good and felt like a dream wrapped around me like that. I didn’t mean to try and get off on you.”
“Get off...” he echoed. “Avery, I—what? I made the moves on you.”
My brows pulled together. “Brandon, who do you think was the one that started the dry humping?”
His mouth dropped open, an incredulous laugh escaping him. “You’re kidding me.”
My face flushed hot. “I’m sorry. It was shitty of me.
I’d like to blame it on being drunk or hungover but that’s no excuse, especially not when it comes to you.
I never wanted you to feel like I was using you to get off because you were gay and somehow convenient.
And then there was the lack of consent. That was so wrong of me. Disrespectful.”
He blew out a short breath. “Wow. Okay. So, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but it seems we were both trying to get off that morning. I was in the middle of a... certain dream, when all of that happened.”
Dream? What the hell did any of that have to do with us—
Oh.
A smirk slowly crawled across my face. “What were you dreaming about?”
He groaned at me. “Don’t.”
“Tell me.”
“No, you voyeur.”
I leaned forward again, catching his bottom lip between my teeth and giving it a sharp nip that had him hissing in response. Letting him go, I said again, “Tell me.”
“You already know. Don’t make me say it.”
Oh, this was too good. Brandon having a wet dream about me? I needed to know all of the dirty details. Was it his first? One of many? If so, how far back did that go?
My cock was already growing hard just thinking about the endless possibilities. Would it be fucked up of me to fuck him while he recounted every little detail so that I could give him the real thing?
Actually... that sounded damn fun. We definitely needed to try that when we got to someplace much softer for my knees than this concrete floor.
Brandon grabbed me by my hair again in a tight grip. “I don’t like that smirk you’re wearing.”
I grinned instead. “What smirk?”
Right as he was opening his mouth to retort something, my phone went off. Together, we both sighed.
Honestly at this point, distractions should be expected. I was fucking cursed with the worst timing imaginable.
I pecked his mouth one last time before leaning back from him. “I’m going to get that dream out of you one way or another.”
He mumbled something I couldn’t quite hear while I rolled to my feet and tucked my half hard dick back into my pants. When he offered a grease-stained rag to clean my hand with, I took it carefully and wiped myself clean before tossing it back to him.
Pulling my phone out, I stared down at the screen.
Ted Evans.
Good news. We were manifesting good news.
I swear to god if he was calling to tell me that nothing could be done and that I just needed to suck it up and move on with my life, I was going to lose it.