Chapter 27
His reply is delayed.
I shift in my office chair and wince when my newly bared thighs stick to the leather.
The air conditioning is on, but it’s doing nothing to chill my oversensitive, warm skin.
Nerves swell inside of me like roaring tides before they crash, making me consider telling him that I’ve gotten called into a meeting before hanging up.
The last time I felt this nervous, I was standing outside of a courtroom for the very first time as acting counsel.
Of course, I’d been inside courtrooms more times than I could count on one hand prior to that, but I’d always been observing.
The difference between watching and doing had me risking a panic attack in the hallway before I’d managed to get myself together and, with a shit ton of false bravado, proved to Rowena that I was someone she could count on.
That I’d be worth the risk of taking me on so young with next to no experience under my belt.
After that, it was like riding a bike.
The only nerves I experience now come before a hearing when my clients project their fears onto me.
But Finn isn’t a client. And this is more like jumping off a cliff into unknown waters than riding a bike.
“Did you know that you make the softest little mewling noise when you’re about to come?” he asks, sounding strained.
“I do?”
He hums low in his throat. “I’ve replayed it in my mind a thousand times since I left you tucked in your bed last night. I let myself think about a lot more than that pretty noise when I got into mine and had to jerk myself off just so I could get some sleep.”
A slow rush of pleasure ripples down my body before settling between my parted thighs, doubling in size. I inhale slowly, forcing my lungs to expand.
“Did you not finish? I should have asked. That was . . . selfish,” I admit, flushing.
“I did. But it wasn’t enough when I got home and started replaying what happened. The only selfish one here is me because I didn’t want to leave you.”
“That doesn’t make you selfish.”
“No? Do you wish I’d have stayed, sweetheart?”
There’s no point in lying. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. “Yes. Even if that feels confusing and intimidating.”
“You wouldn’t have been confused when you woke up and felt me behind you, Aubrey.
My arm around your waist, fingers drawing patterns around your belly button ring.
And when I brought them lower, teasing the band of those expensive panties you love to spend a small fortune on, you’d wiggle against me and learn how badly I wanted you, even in sleep. ”
“And that’s the truth? That you want me, even when you’re asleep?”
“I’ve never been this honest about anything. I’m so hard right now, Aubrey. And all I’ve done is think about you while hearing your voice.”
I gulp, not caring that he must have heard. “Show me.”
“Give me a second,” he murmurs.
I smoosh my phone to my ear and move in my chair again. My thighs are damp when I press them together and drag my fingers up my neck until they reach my nape, curling in the hairs there. The slight bite of pain forces my eyes closed as I wait.
“There you go.”
The buzz comes a second before I pull my phone in front of my face and open his new message.
Without the call on speakerphone, I can’t hear if he says anything else.
My mouth dries, and my tongue sticks to the roof of it as I stare down at the photo he sent, not knowing whether to moan or get frustrated that he’s still wearing clothes.
It’s a downward shot that shows the deep grooves in his lower stomach that disappear into the tight black fabric of his tented boxer briefs.
His jeans are undone and hanging at his knees, but he’s kept his underwear on, teasing me.
All I can see is that thick bulge that I felt beneath me last night.
The same one that I should have expected but was still shocked by.
The picture stays up on my screen for long enough that his voice starts rumbling out of the speakers. I press the phone back against my ear and grip the edge of my desk.
“It’s your turn, Aubrey.”
“What do you want to see?” I nearly whimper.
“Everything.”
My mouth tugs up at the corner. “That’s impossible when you’re not here.”
“Is your office door locked?”
I flick my eyes up past my desk. With Satan’s spawn prowling the halls more than usual, I’m always locking it, but I check anyway.
“Yes.”
“Show me whatever you’re comfortable with. I just need to see you.”
I nod to myself. “As long as you don’t disappear before I send it.”
“There’s not a chance of that happening.”
My palm is sweaty. I feel the slide of my phone against my skin and grip it tighter as I lower it again and open the camera. The tension between my legs is unmistakable. I’m dangerously turned on right now, and as I roll my chair back, I check the door one more time.
I struggle with the angle of the photo for a beat as I part my thighs wider than I have been and wiggle my skirt higher.
The panties he was teasing me for buying are made with high-quality lace and have a dainty bow at the front and back bands the same shade of soft blue.
Only the gusset isn’t that same colour anymore.
It’s darker, my arousal so obvious that my cheeks flame as I snap a picture.
Similar to his photo, there’s little to the imagination with mine. The damp fabric clings to my pussy, revealing far more than I thought I’d be sharing like this. Still, I attach the photo and send it before putting the phone back to my ear and waiting.
I can hear him moving away from the speaker, and my stomach shoots toward my throat. My fingers stroke down my thigh and dig into the soft inside, so close to that damp patch of fabric.
“Jesus Christ,” Finn groans quietly, like he’s still far from his speaker.
My teeth find my bottom lip and dig deep to stifle a soft noise from escaping me. I shift my hand and let a finger run over my panties, feeling just how slick they’ve become.
“Tell me it was me that got you so wet. I need to hear you say it.”
“It was you,” I breathe out, repeating the same motion, harder this time. “I want to see more, Finn.”
“You want to see my cock, baby?”
I tip my head back over my chair and nod uselessly. “I do. I wanted to last night.”
“Tug your panties out of the way for me. Touch that pretty pussy while I show you what I’m doing.”
He didn’t need to ask. I’ve already shifted them aside and dragged a fingertip through my slit, up to where I’m swollen and—
“I am,” I whine, circling my clit with the ghost of a touch.
“Good girl. Don’t stop.”
The sound of his laboured breathing disappears, and I speed up, picturing exactly why. The rough, low noise that fills my ear sends me into a spiral. I press my palm over my pussy, rubbing once. I slip a finger inside myself and shudder, moaning into the speaker.
There’s a buzz against my ear, and I move quickly, opening up the message.
There’s nothing teasing about this picture.
Finn’s fist is tight around his shaft, confirming just how thick I expected it to be.
The head is an angry red colour and slick with precum.
It’s long and veiny, with a slight curve that I know would have him pressing against my G-spot with little effort.
I press my palm against my clit again as I clench around my finger. The jerk of my hips doesn’t distract me from the rough breaths in my ear.
“Talk to me,” he demands, rough yet warm.
“Yes, I’ll go to the concert with you.”
His laugh is dirty. I pulse in response and guide a second finger in beside the first, stretching myself. The tightness in my core grows, becoming almost painful as I bring my phone down and take a picture of myself spread this way.
It’s a testament to how deeply I trust him when I don’t think twice about sending him something so vulnerable.
When I speak, I’m panting, rocking my hips in time with my fingers.
“I want you,” I admit with a short inhale. “You’re so hot, Finn. Everywhere. Everything about you. Not just your cock.”
“But you like that part of me, don’t you? Can you imagine it inside that wet pussy, sweetheart? Your two fingers aren’t enough. Not to prepare you for me. You need more. Add a third for me.”
My throat locks up. “That’s a lot.”
“I’ve seen inside your bedside drawer. You can take more than three fingers.”
With a whine, I ease a third alongside the others. “Th—there.”
“That’s it. Go slow. Match my speed.”
He makes a spitting sound, and I nearly see double.
It’s hard to do anything but plead for him to come to my office and take me on my desk when I hear the wet sound of his fist moving.
The wet noise is slow but hard, strong. I force myself to move my fingers at the same pace, knowing damn well he can hear how badly I’m dripping.
“I need it faster,” I say, desperate.
“How fast?”
I turn the call to speakerphone before dropping it onto my desk and increasing my speed, letting him hear how fast I’m going.
“Are you thinking of my cock inside you right now? It would be so easy to slip into your office, pull you out of that chair, and bend you over your desk. I’d even leave those pretty panties on so that they could hold my cum after I filled you full of it. Is that what you want, Aubrey? Tell me.”
“What if I . . .” I gasp when I curl my fingers and move even faster. “What if I made you wear a condom?”
His fist keeps up with me. His words are spat through the phone, betraying how close he is. “Is that what you’d want?”
“No. Not with you.”
“Fuck. Make yourself come. I’m not going to last.”
I tip my head back and let my mouth hang open as I work myself closer and closer— “Finn!”
It’s too loud. I’m at work. If anyone caught me, I’d never live down the embarrassment.
Yet I make no move to stop. I’m too close. Finn’s panting into his phone, and I want to hear him come more than I want to get myself there. Someone could walk in, and I still wouldn’t end the call. Not until after.
“Come,” he growls before making a rough, almost angry noise in the back of his throat. “Shit. Come with me, Aubrey. Jesus Christ. Let me hear you.”
His pleasure stokes mine. I press down on my clit and see stars as I climax, my hips jerking against my fingers.
Time slows completely as it goes on and on and on, before I fall back into my body, gasping and curling over my desk.
The edge cuts into my breasts as I try to slow my breathing, easing my fingers free.
Finn’s still on the line, but he’s quieter.
I let his presence, even simply over the phone, reassure me when my guard tries to fly back up.
Guilt sinks in as I take in my surroundings, harshly reminded of where I am.
The door remains locked, though, the room silent besides the consistent rattle of the air conditioning.
“Are you with me?” he asks softly.
I straighten and tug open my desk drawer to grab a tissue. “I’m with you.”
“Any regrets?”
“No regrets, Finn.”
“So, I’ll see you on Sunday, then?”
I smile, grabbing the phone again and taking it off speakerphone. “Text me with a time.”
“And place. I was serious about taking you out first.”
“On a date.” It’s not a question.
“On a date, sweetheart. And I promise it won’t involve minigolf.”
“Thank God.”
“Let me know when you get home from work,” he says, and I can hear his grin.
“I will. Say hi to the guys for me.”
“Asher’s here.”
My brow twitches. “Really? Did somebody bribe him?”
“Not that I know of. But Beck was pretty quiet about how he got him here.”
I drop the tissue into the garbage bin beneath my desk and laugh. The lack of awkwardness is . . . relieving. Knowing that what we did doesn’t change anything takes my guilt into a tight fist and squishes it until there’s nothing left but dust.
We’re still best friends.
Even now.