36. I’m Incorrigible
36
I’m Incorrigible
ANDREW
From: Andrew Jones
To: Victor Lynch
Sent: February 7, 7:31 am
Subject: Resignation
Dear Vic,
Please accept this email as my formal resignation from the bank. Thank you for the opportunities you gave me. While I appreciate your confidence, I find my interests lie in another direction.
During the next two weeks, I’d be happy to help transition my responsibilities to other team members.
Sincerely,
Andrew Jones
From: Victor Lynch
To: Andrew Jones
CC: Human Resources
Sent: February 7, 8:11 am
Subject: RE: Resignation
Let’s make this effective immediately. Pack up your things by 9.
C arly melted into our kiss. I held her in my arms, pushing her against the stair rail, never wanting to let her go. She’d faced my dragon of a mother, plus potential humiliation in front of my family, for me. She loved me just as I was, not as a bank vice president.
“I don’t think you came down here for champagne at all,” she murmured into my ear right before she nipped my earlobe.
“I needed to get my hands on you.” Her dress had a clavicle-skimming neckline and was made of thick, embroidered fabric that kept me from touching as much of her as I wanted. I ran my fingers over the skin it revealed on her long neck and toned arms. I missed the plunging neckline she’d worn at the wedding and the New Year’s Eve party. It had been easy to push aside to get my tongue on her breasts.
“Here?” But her hands were roaming too. She’d gotten my shirt untucked from my pants and halfway unbuttoned.
“Better than my childhood bedroom, don’t you think?”
“Definitely.” She dipped her tongue into the hollow at the base of my neck, sending tingles across my chest.
I brushed her fingers aside to finish unbuttoning my shirt. She dropped her hands to my belt and worked the buckle free.
“Don’t you think someone will come looking for us?” she asked, unbuttoning my khakis.
“Don’t care.” I felt along the back of her dress for a zipper.
As my pants fell to the floor, she dropped to her knees. They cracked like a shot. “Sorry.”
“Baby, never say sorry for that. But the floor tile will bruise your knees.” My cock didn’t have any consideration for the rest of her body. It pointed straight at her face, the tip already leaking.
“Don’t care,” she said, licking her red lips.
“Here.” I stepped out of my pants and folded them into a makeshift cushion.
“They’ll get wrinkled. Everyone will know what we’ve been doing.” She settled onto my folded pants.
“They already know what we’re doing,” I said.
Her chest heaved. “Even your mother?”
“Definitely.”
“Why is that strangely hot?”
When she took me inside her mouth, I didn’t care about anything. So what if Carly’s relationship with my mother would always be weird? So what if she was a stylist to the stars, and I was the nerdy host of a YouTube channel with an audience that had significant crossover to SpongeBob SquarePants? So what if she liked movies made before I was born and had been old enough to worry about Y2K?
I didn’t concern myself with any of that as her lipstick smeared over my dick and her brown eyes went gold in the cellar’s soft light. Stroking her hair away from her face, I touched her jaw. “I love you,” I said. “I can’t believe you busted into brunch to see me.”
When she hummed around my dick, it set me on fire. Pleasure rocketed up my spine as she increased the suction. She gripped my ass, and heat blazed across my skin. My head fell back. How had I gotten so lucky that Carly Rose, a goddess on earth, had her mouth on my dick?
“I’m not gonna last long, baby.” Bliss surged through me. “Want me to come in my hand?”
She shook her head and cupped her fingers under my balls. They tightened. I wished I could hold back, but she was on her knees on the hard floor, and my family was expecting us to return to the dining room any minute with wine. She was right. The urgency, the fear of discovery, the dirtiness of it all was incredibly hot. With a grunt, I came. She held me in her mouth until I was done, then pulled off and swallowed.
For the first time in over a week, my stomach didn’t hurt and my neck didn’t twinge. The orgasm must have flushed all the stress hormones from my system. I dropped to my knees and kissed her, tasting myself and her lipstick. “Baby, I… Thank you.”
“Do you believe me now? That I love you? That I’m with you for…for as long as you want me?” Her eyes blinked wide.
I used the tail of my shirt to dab the smudged mascara under her eyes. “I’ll always want you, Carly. You didn’t have to blow me in my parents’ wine cellar for me to trust you.”
She smirked. “The blowjob was for me. If this dress wasn’t so expensive, I’d have let a little jizz fall on it so there’d be no doubts about what we were doing when we go back upstairs.”
I shook my head. “This thing with you and my mother is complicated. I think we might need to dial back the weekly brunches.”
“I can be good,” she said with a saucy smile. “After today, maybe she and I can be friends instead of frenemies.”
“You brought her flowers.”
“The woman had a heart attack. And I grew up in the South, where it’s a crime to show up to someone’s house empty-handed.”
“You don’t usually work on Sundays, right?” I asked.
“Except during award season, assuming I keep my Hollywood clients.”
“How about we agree to spend every other Sunday together, just the two of us? Except during award season. We can go out for breakfast or stay in bed all day.”
“Reading the newspaper?”
“They still print newspapers?”
She sighed. “Never mind. We’ll read books.”
“Whatever you want, baby. And on the other Sundays, when I come here for brunch, you can decide if you want to come with me.”
She bit her lip. “Okay. Though I’m not sure I can stay in bed all day on a Sunday.”
I grinned. “I think I can convince you. Let me give you a taste.” Rising, I held out a hand.
“I’ve already had a taste.” She licked her lips. She stood, and her knee cracked again. “Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. I love your noisy knee. I love every part of you.”
Holding her hand, I led her to the credenza and hoisted her up onto it.
“Don’t we need to get back?”
“Not before I make you come too. You’re going to need the endorphins to get through the rest of brunch.” I hiked up her skirt, but she wore something that looked like bike shorts underneath. “Um, is there a zipper on these?”
“No, you roll them down like socks. I’ll do it.” She slipped off the credenza.
“Let me. Hold up your skirt?”
I started at the waistband, rolling down the spandex like she’d said.
When I revealed the tops of her thighs, she groaned. “I think I could almost come from being released from that thing.”
“Wait for me.” I rolled it to her ankles and helped her step out of the leg openings, then I lifted her onto the credenza and spread her knees. She wasn’t wet yet, but I’d take care of that.
I bent to kiss her knee. “I love this knee.” I kissed the inside of her thigh along the red mark from the undergarment’s seam. “I love your legs.” And when I buried my face between her legs, I spelled out, “I love your incredible pussy,” with my tongue. By the time I got to the last, looping Y , she was clutching my hair.
She was wet now, and I tunneled two fingers inside her. I pumped in and out, a promise of what I’d do later with my cock when we finally went home from brunch. When her breathing quickened and she gripped my hair, I found her clit and sucked it aggressively the way she liked.
She shouted out my name, too loud for the echoing space below the dining room. Neither of us cared. Stilling, she groaned out the creak that told me she’d found her peak. I let up on the suction, licking her through a shuddering aftershock.
When her fingers loosened in my hair, I straightened. She leaned her head against the wall, her eyes closing as her breathing evened out. Her cheeks were pink, and her forehead glistened. I kissed it.
I found my pants and stepped into them, grateful I’d remembered to stuff a handkerchief in the pocket. I used it to blot her forehead, tidy up the edges of her lipstick, and pat dry her pussy. Finally, I used a corner to wipe my chin.
“Such a Boy Scout,” she said with a relaxed smile.
“I might not have grown up in the South, but I have some manners.” I folded the handkerchief and shoved it into my pocket, then I picked up her spandex shorts from the floor. “Want me to hide these, or are you going to put them back on?”
She grabbed them from me. “I may have just fucked her son in her wine cellar, but I’m not about to show up to Audrey Hayes’s dining table commando.” She wrestled them on. Except for her faded lipstick and flushed cheeks, she looked as fresh as when she’d walked into the house.
“Ugh, your hair.” She combed through it with her fingers. “I wish I’d brought my bag.”
“Leave it.” I tugged out of her reach. “Let them all see that you’re a hair-puller when you come.”
“Oh my god.” Her cheeks flamed. “Are you sure there isn’t a back door to this place?”
I wrapped my arms around her and cradled her ass with my hands. “I’m definitely not prepared for any back-door action down here.”
She shoved out of my arms. “You’re incorrigible.”
“You love me incorrigible.”
“I do.”
I tugged her back to me. “And I love you driven, successful, wise, and beautiful. I’ll do everything in my power to be worthy of your love.”
She gazed up at me. “How’d I get to be so lucky?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m the lucky one. Promise not to leave me when my family teases us relentlessly upstairs?”
She kissed me. “I promise.”