Sixteen
Devon
I’m distracted on my phone as I walk back to my office after lunch, so I don’t notice my PA, Krystal, attempting to catch my attention at first. It’s not until she’s skidded to a halt in front of me, just outside my office door that she comes to my attention.
“What’s up?” I ask, a little bemused by her behaviour.
“I was just trying to let you know that I already let him into your office.”
I blink at her, confused. “Who?”
“Emma’s brother.”
“He’s here?”
She nods. “You have a meeting with him.”
“What? No I—”
She brushes past me, returning to her computer and bringing up my calendar. “Right here. Wes Holt. 1.30pm.”
The fucking bastard. I give a slight shake of my head and turn back toward my office.
“Right. Of course.” I enter my office and close the door behind me, peering into the room to find Wes lazing in my desk chair, looking out at the view of the wharf from my window.
“You can’t just set fake meetings in my calendar.
I actually have a job to do here, you know. ”
He glances up at me, offering a teasing smirk. “I know. Consulting…fancy.”
“Well, not everyone can make a living from sticking needles into people’s skin,” I say dryly.
He unfolds himself from my chair and starts walking toward me. “Nice office,” he observes, glancing around. “Is it soundproof?”
I give a wry shake of my head. “What exactly are you doing here?”
Wes pauses in front of me, heat-filled eyes scanning up and down my body. “Hoping to fulfil one of my fantasies.”
“And what’s that?”
“Unwrapping you like a present and fucking you right there on that desk.”
My mouth goes dry as I try to battle with myself not to let his words affect me. I lose. “That’s…a fantasy of yours?”
“Uh huh.” He reaches out and tugs on my tie, causing me to stumble forward against him. His lips crush mine in a torrent of need and lust that I can’t help responding to.
“I thought you hated my suits?” I ask breathlessly.
He gives a wry quirk of one eyebrow. “About as much as you hate my piercings.”
Our lips crash together again, and I find myself clinging to Wes as he guides us over to my desk.
“Wait, wait, wait,” I stutter out as some of my senses manage to push through the cloud of lust. “It’s the middle of the day. Anyone could walk in.”
“Don’t you ever want to live dangerously?” he murmurs, tugging on my earlobe with his teeth.
God, yes. My cock is begging me to just go for it, but my mind is finding it impossible to get on board. If someone were to walk in on us it wouldn’t just be the end of my time at this company, I could become unhirable if word got around.
“Not that dangerously,” I mutter, stepping back and gaining some much-needed space.
I can tell Wes is disappointed, but for once he doesn’t goad me or taunt me about being uptight.
Maybe that’s why I decide to throw him a bone.
“I could be working late tonight,” I say with a prodding brow raise.
“ Long after everyone else has gone home.”
Wes’s lips form a slow grin. “I see.”
My ability to concentrate for the rest of the day is non-existent.
All I can think about is what Wes has planned for us when he comes back to my office after hours.
It doesn’t exactly help matters that he keeps texting me with ‘suggestions.’ If he hopes to get through even half of his list, we’ll be here all night.
It’s after eleven by the time Wes appears in the doorway to my office. The rest of the floor is like a ghost town; even the cleaners are done for the night.
“Sorry, I’d planned to be here sooner than this but I had a walk-in just as I was closing up,” he says with a little shrug.
I can’t blame him for not turning away a client. In fact, I actually kind of respect him for it. Work ethic is not something I’ve ever really associated with Wes in the past, but I suppose he must take things at least somewhat seriously if he’s able to run a successful business.
“I’m surprised you were able to get past security at this hour,” I muse.
He offers a sheepish smile. “Actually, I snuck out this afternoon without returning my pass.”
I roll my eyes. Of course, he did. Never mind the fact that we only recently had a massive security breach in this firm.
“So…” I begin, after a long beat of us just staring at each other.
“You’re already half unwrapped,” he says with a pout, his eyes falling on my rolled-up shirtsleeves and the jacket hanging on the back of my chair.
I smirk at him. “Sorry to disappoint. And before you ask, no I’m not going to put my jacket back on just so you can take it off two seconds later.”
“I wasn’t going to,” he says with an eye roll. He closes the door and flicks the light off, the only illumination in the room now coming from the glaring neon logo of the building next to ours. Then he prowls toward me, like a jungle cat stalking prey.
Anticipation courses through me and I stand from my chair, pushing it far out of the way.
“You didn’t think to clear space on your desk?” Wes murmurs as he reaches me.
“I was working,” I grouse. “You could have texted you were on your way.”
He peers around to me to glance at my laptop screen, his brows shooting up when he sees what’s on it. “Funny. That looks like an episode of Bridgerton. Let me guess—they need some consulting on how to be a twat?”
“That’s absolutely right. I thought I’d send them your way.”
He lets out a rumbling chuckle and slams his lips against mine. I respond immediately, drawing him closer, my fingers quickly finding their way under his t-shirt to run over the hard planes of his chest.
He takes a moment to set my laptop aside before urging me up onto the desk, crowding me backward until I’m lying flat on the desk’s surface.
Everything happens in a blur, his deft hands making short work of my tie, my shirt, my trousers, my shoes…
and before I know it, I’m lying there completely naked with Wes gazing down at me like I’m a delicious meal he can’t wait to eat.
He leans forward again, his lips slamming back against mine; I cling tight to him, letting out a soft moan as slick fingers push inside me.
Yes, there’s no point denying it; I love anal play.
And Wes, in particular, is incredibly talented in this particular area.
So, let’s just say it’s a good thing we decided to hold off until the building was empty because not even his lips can silence my groans of pleasure.
“Jesus, listen to you,” he taunts, dragging his teeth along my jaw. “You’re such a slut for it, aren’t you? I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”
“Now,” I say desperately. “Get in me now. ”
“I don’t know. You seem to really like this.” He gives a little twist of his fingers, rubbing over my prostate and prompting a harsh groan to leave my lips. “What’s the betting I could make you come with just my fingers?”
I shake my head savagely. “No. Cock.”
“No cock?” he teases, deliberately misconstruing my words. “Okay. Fingers it is.”
I let out an aggravated growl. “Just fucking fuck me you fucking bastard .”
“Impressive vocabulary,” he says with a soft chuckle before finally removes his hand.
I glare up at him, but my frustration turns to relief as he finally pushes inside me, filling me perfectly like always.
He hauls my legs over his shoulders, bending me practically in half as he drives in deep, hitting me over and over exactly where I need.
It’s incredible, and exhilarating, and perfect, and so, so frustrating—because why the hell does it have to be Wes Holt who makes me come apart like this?
Why couldn’t he have been horrible at sex?
Then all those fantasies I’d been having would have just evaporated and I could get on with my life.
Life just isn’t that fair…
I feel my climax rushing up and cling even tighter to Wes, throwing my head back with a groan as I come hard all over my stomach. Untangling my legs, Wes pulls out of me, and I watch in fascination as he strokes himself to completion, painting me from chin to chest with his cream.
“You’re a mess,” he says through heavy breaths, his eyes full of heat as he stares down at me.
I cut him an annoyed look. “You’re a prick.”
He lets out a soft chuckle. “Yep.”
I move to get up, but he sets a firm hand on my shoulder, keeping me in place. “Stay.”
Then he ducks his head to my abdomen and proceeds to clean up the mess I made…with his tongue. Once he’s done with that, continues up my body and starts lapping up the cum on sternum and chin. His own cum.
I stare at him in surprise. “You just ate your own cum.”
He offers a self-satisfied grin. “Yep. It’s delicious. Way better than yours.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “My cum is amazing.”
He arches a brow. “Have you ever tasted it?”
“Who the fuck eats their own cum?”
“People who don’t have sticks up their arses,” he teases.
“The only thing I have up my arse is germs from your gross cock.”
Wes rolls his eyes. “Don’t even try to pretend you don’t love my cock.”
“Fine, you’re right, I do.” I offer a sweet smile. “It’s just too bad the guy it’s attached to is the world’s biggest prat.”
He arches a brow at me. “And here I thought you owned that title.”
“Nope.” I give a shake of my head. “You won it in a landslide.”
He lets out a soft chuckle and grabs my hips, prompting me to slide down off the desk. Then he guides me to turn around.
“What are you doing?” I call over my shoulder as Wes drops to his knees and parts my arse cheeks.
“Seeing if I can get the stick out.”
I’m about to turn around and punch him, but then he slides his tongue over my crease and I’m just… gone.
“I have something I need to tell you. And I need you to not freak out.”
Ryan blinks at me in confusion but nods anyway. “Okay, sure. What is it?”
I draw in a fortifying breath, hesitating for a moment before just letting the truth spill out. “I’ve been messing around with Wes Holt.”
Ryan’s eyes widen almost comically, but he manages to gather himself after a few moments. “Okay…define ‘messing around.’”
I run a frustrated hand over my face. “We’ve been shagging. A lot.”
“Define ‘a lot.’”
“Jesus, Ryan,” I snap, letting out a groan of agitation.
“Well?”
I sigh, giving an annoyed shake of my head. “Pretty much daily for nearly three weeks.”
“Wow. So, I guess it’s pretty good then?”
I let out a harsh sigh and slump back against the couch. “It’s fucking epic.”
“So, what’s the issue then?”
“It’s Wes Holt ,” I grate out. “I hate that guy.”
Ryan just shrugs. “Sounds like the perfect fuck buddy arrangement to me. You get all this hot sex and it’s pretty much a guarantee that neither of you will develop feelings and complicate everything like in that movie with Justin Timberlake.”
My face screws up in distaste at the mere thought of developing any kind of feelings other than hatred toward Wes Holt. “Oh god no.”
Ryan gives a little nod of satisfaction. “You see.” He turns his attention back towards the football match playing out on my giant TV, as though that’s the end of the conversation.
I sigh as my mind wanders back to the text exchange with Wes last week and the concerns his friend Natasha raised.
I don’t for a second think Emma would want to get back together with me, and even if she did, as I told Wes, I’m not in that place anymore.
But that doesn’t mean she won’t necessarily be a factor.
“It could still get complicated, though. I mean, what about Emma?”
Ryan shrugs. “What about her?”
“He’s her brother .”
Ryan just looks at me like I’m a few pence shy of a pound. “What the fuck does that matter? You’re not together anymore. It’s not any of her business what you do or who you do it with.”
“I guess…”
Ryan just shakes his head, letting out a soft huff of amusement. “Get real, mate. Don’t even try to pretend you give a shit what Emma thinks. If you were really worried about it, you wouldn’t have shagged him in the first place, let alone every day for the past few weeks.”