Chapter 12 #2
He releases his mouthful of my breast. “You’re fucking soaked.” Sliding his hand down farther until he’s cupping my pussy, he lets out an approving groan. “All this is for me.”
“Yes,” I say with a gasp and shamefully grind on him.
He lifts his head. All the planes of his face are hard edges, but his gaze is lazy. Languid. He twitches a finger, and dammit, it’s not enough. “You need this.”
“Yes.”
“What do you need?”
I’m too gone in my arousal to differentiate the question. “This.”
“No,” he says right by my ear, his voice silky. “What do you need?”
“To get off.” I rock against his hand. His hold is firm. He’s giving me enough room to move, but nothing more.
“You could use a vibrator for that.” He traces my ear with his tongue, and the energy inside me grows with nowhere to go. Only he does this to me. That control I wanted to take back is getting handed over to him. “What do you need?”
Fuck, I know the answer. It’s obvious. I could use my hand, a vibrator, or go to that dive bar I’ve driven by on the edge of town and pick someone up.
I’m not interested, and if I was, it wouldn’t be like this.
I wouldn’t be on the razor’s edge of ecstasy like I’ve never known or utter, soul-crushing disappointment if he doesn’t move that damn hand.
I exhale. “You. Now get me off.”
His deep chuckle rumbles through me, only heightening all the sky-high sensations inside me. He adjusts the angle of his hand, and his thumb hits my clit a half a second before a finger pushes inside.
“God, yes,” rips out of me. I crush my mouth to his, grab on to his shoulders, and buck against him.
He’s not even moving. I’m doing all the work. I’m taking and he’s giving me everything I need, but no more. Almost as if he’s saying this is just the bare minimum of what he has to offer.
An alarm glares bright in my brain, warning me that I might get dependent. That I might hand too much power to him, and it’ll shred me when he tosses me away, but my hormones are too strong. I need this orgasm more than I need to breathe.
Later. I’ll deal with all that later.
He adds pressure, like he knows exactly how much it’ll take to get me to detonate. He’s right. A flash-bang goes off inside my bloodstream, exploding outward and leaving sparks behind my eyes.
“Lane!” I don’t know when I pried my mouth from his. I’m gasping for breath, tense from head to toe, except I’m bucking wildly.
And he holds me in place, keeping my butt on the seat when I would’ve dumped myself on the floor. My movements slow until he’s just holding me, letting me catch my breath and my bearings.
“That’s my girl. You took just what you needed, like I knew you would.”
He does not know me! I clutch at the anger, letting it rage or I’ll succumb to that mouth and his whispered words.
“Fuck off.” I bristle and push him away, but his hand is tangled in my shorts. My boobs are hanging out and my shirt is stuck in the band of my bra. Not sure how that happened. Then again, I flew apart in his arms. Makes sense I didn’t get put back together.
He withdraws his hand, but instead of being furious about my outburst or defensive about my behavior, he puts his finger into his mouth and sucks me off him. “Mmm.”
My pussy tingles like his mouth is on me instead. Like it’s swirling around my clit instead of his fingertip. I yank my bra back in place and tug my shirt down. “Don’t—”
A strangled gasp leaves me when he licks his thumb. I might jump him, and if I do, it’d be to tear his clothes off. I just came, yet I’m ready to climb back on him.
I have to go. It’s the only way to save face. Staying will only get me in trouble. I’ll do things that my brain is screaming at me not to, while also encouraging me to go right ahead.
My lips feel puffy, and my nipples are acutely aware of the scrape of the material against them when they were just bouncing free. With a huff, I spin on a heel and stalk out of the shop.
Lane
I’m in the office, staring at the monitor in front of me. Edna sent me the monthly reports from May that I asked for, but I haven’t paid attention to one number.
Emerson came so fucking hard. She cried out my name when she did.
I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe deep, like a goddamn bull that’s smelled a whole herd of cows in heat.
Pretty soon I’ll start grunting and pawing at the ground.
I’ve been fighting my erection all day. All damn weekend.
I’m getting sick of jacking off in the shower.
It’s so frequent, it’s become part of my routine.
Her flavor’s on my tongue. Stamped on my brain.
She doesn’t want to want me. She doesn’t like that I think I know her. She’ll have to learn that I do, and I don’t give a shit if she doesn’t like it.
But it’d be nice if she quit avoiding me. It’s like living with a ghost that I want to fuck.
My phone lights up, and I blow out a hard breath. It’s Myles. I close out of my screen since the only two things I’ve been doing all morning are jack and shit, and answer. “What’s up?”
“Hey, Lane. Got a favor to ask.” His voice is gravelly.
“Shoot.”
“Bang, bang.” He laughs and dissolves into a coughing fit. “Shit, sorry. I’ve been around Devon and his buddies too much.”
That did sound like one of the lame jokes my nephew likes. “You doing okay?”
“Devon doesn’t like to share, but he did with this ick.” Another cough. “I shouldn’t go to Omaha like this.”
No, he shouldn’t. “You don’t think they’ll want to expand distribution when you’re blowing snot everywhere?”
“Wynter told me no.”
I barked out a laugh. Myles would’ve gone if it weren’t for her. “Yes, I’ll go. Are there any meetings at Foster House afterward?”
“Yes, but I’ll be better by then.”
Emerson would probably appreciate some space. Absence and a fonder heart or some shit. I scrub a hand down my face. I don’t have much longer with her.
Myles needs my help and she needs to recoup after what we did in the shop. “I’ve got those too. Get some rest and make your wife happy.”
“Thanks. I owe you.”
Not when I owe him almost everything. “I know you’re good for it.”
He clears his throat. “Wynter also wants a big Foster get-together. It’s the weekend after I would’ve returned home.”
We love gathering with the Baileys, but it’s nice to have a smaller crowd and connect more. We missed out on too many years. “I’ll be there.”
There’s a beat of silence, and I wait. He’s not one to sit on something he wants to discuss. “How’s the marriage going?”
Ah. He doesn’t like being nosy, but he’ll get over it if only to pass along info to the wife who’s probably asking him for details. “It’s going.”
“Downhill or uphill?”
“I’m just helping her get her property. But I wanted to talk to you about her pitch for a holiday campaign.”
“We have a marketing department,” Myles says with a note of censure. He’s as loyal as they come.
He should also know that I am too. “Foster House Gold doesn’t.”
He exhales and it ends with a deep-chested cough. “What do the guys think?”
“I haven’t talked to them.”
“Because they know you want to fuck her and might not be purely objective?”
“Were you objective when you hired Wynter as your assistant?”
“I didn’t hire her. My assistant did on a temporary basis to cover a procedure. And I fired Wynter when I first saw her.”
“Hired her back fast enough. Couldn’t get her out of your mind?”
He grunts and it’s not from his cold. I grin because I’m right. He made decisions he normally wouldn’t have when it came to her. But she’s good at what she does. So is Emerson. “I’m telling you, she’s right. We’ve strayed from our original message.”
“You want my blessing, you got it. But you have four other guys to clear it with first.”
I’m not worried about them when it comes to the campaign Emerson outlined. She’s ready to run, and I don’t want her to think I’m hiring her to manipulate her into staying. I want so much more than sex. I want Emerson in my bed. I want her in my home.
If I trap her, then I’m no better than Hutch. But how do I get her to willingly wear my ring on her finger?