Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Fury
After finding my office vandalized, I thought my week couldn’t get any worse. Then the cops upstairs, snapping pictures of the chaos, asked if I had any idea why someone would decide to dump the contents of the breakroom fridge and cabinets all over my office—like the half-full container of tuna and mayo that had been festering on top of the refrigerator for two days.
And that was why it was Saturday afternoon, and I was still working from home. I’d hired a cleaning crew to handle the mess and had given everyone the rest of the week off. Now, that plan hinged on whether they could banish the stench of spoiled fish. I wasn’t about to force anyone to work in a place that reeked like a seafood market gone wrong.
Fortunately, a lot of our work could be done remotely. Like the research I was currently diving into for a potential client. Or, at least, that was my intention.
My mind kept wandering.
More specifically, it was drifting toward a certain raven-haired beauty with a sharp tongue and fire in her eyes.
A beauty I hadn’t seen since Wednesday night, thanks to the recent chaos at the office. By Thursday, after dealing with the cops, calming freaked-out employees, calling Cory, and working with Jules to get our schedules sorted, I was too exhausted to do anything but shower and collapse into bed. Then yesterday, I spent hours contacting every client based out of the New York office to reassure them that their accounts were secure and that we’d be back in the same offices come next week. After all that, the last thing I wanted was to go anywhere, let alone a packed club.
And if I was being honest, a part of me had hoped that Sienna would reach out, asking where I was and if everything was okay. But she hadn’t.
I knew the club usually boasted a big performance on Friday and Saturday nights, which meant she was likely buried under last-minute changes and all that jazz. She might’ve even had to replace a dancer on the fly, leaving her little time to think about me, let alone text. I tried to convince myself that was the case, since she hadn’t outright said she didn’t want to see me again. Sure, she’d been distracted when I’d seen her at work, but that spark between us was undeniably still there.
I needed to talk to her.
I sighed, tilting my head back against the couch. As I closed my eyes, numbers and names, spreadsheets, and analysis reports flashed in my mind, but soon they were replaced by a familiar face—a face that brought with it a rush of other sensations.
The subtle coconut scent of her skin and hair. Her soft, warm skin beneath my fingertips. The mingling sounds of pleasure and gasps. The way her pussy tightened around my cock when she came.
“Fuck.” I opened my eyes and grabbed my phone. I needed to reach out, even if it was just a text.
Hey, I know you’re probably busy, but I just wanted to see how you were doing.
I sent it off before I could second-guess myself, hoping it sounded as casual as I intended. Then I turned back to my laptop, feigning productivity while I waited for a response.
Saturdays are busy. This one, more than usual. Lots to clean up.
I frowned at her vague comment. Someone made a mess?
Her reply came back faster than the first one. More like something. Lighting rig fell yesterday in the middle of practice.
A flash of panic jolted me upright, but I resisted the urge to call her and opted for a text instead. Nice and casual. Are you okay?
That was casual, right?
I’m good. One dancer messed up her wrist, but that was the worst of it.
I let out a breath. I felt bad for the dancer, but I was relieved Sienna was okay. Probably a little too relieved, honestly.
Watching practice, or do you have a minute to chat?
I didn’t know why I was asking. It’s not like we had long, deep conversations. We bickered, we fucked, we bickered again—that pretty much summed up our entire relationship.
I’m in my office listening to music to find something for next week. I’m guessing you’re at your office using talking to me as an excuse to not work.
I grinned. Wrong. I’m at home.
Then you’re working there.
I laughed. Got me. And I’m only working from here because my office smells like tuna.
Three dots appeared, then vanished for several seconds before reappearing. A series of emojis followed, all conveying the same thing: what?
Settling back into my seat, I explained what had happened at my building, and she filled me in on the chaos at the club. Seemed like we were both having less-than-stellar weeks.
Sounds like we could both use a chance to relax with a nice Scotch or a glass of wine. I’ve always been partial to Shannon’s.
Gavin told me your brother makes it.
As our conversation shifted from business to personal, I sprawled on the couch, work forgotten, all my attention focused on our text exchange.
Is good Scotch the only way you like to relax?
My eyebrows shot up at her question. Maybe I was imagining it, but that sounded a little… flirty.
There are other things I enjoy just as much. Sometimes more.
I hoped I wasn’t reading too much into it, but if I was, I figured she’d set me straight. One thing I knew for sure about her was that she had no qualms about voicing her opinions.
Yeah, those other things don’t suck.
Or sometimes they do. My cock twitched at the thoughts that paraded through my mind, and I reached down to adjust myself as I waited for her reply.
You wish. The two words were accompanied by eggplant and mouth emojis.
“Shit,” I muttered, palming my cock through my jeans. “Yeah, I do wish.”
I didn’t tell her that, though. Instead, I played it cool. If you were here, we could both and I ended it with a mouth emoji.
Very cool.
That is something we haven’t gotten to do yet and I can’t say that I haven’t thought about it.
My eyebrows shot up. Was she really going there?
What, exactly, is that you’ve thought about?
For the moment, I resisted the temptation to reach into my pants, but I couldn’t stop the blood from filling my cock. I waited, anticipation twisting in my stomach. If she didn’t want to do this, it was okay with me, but if she did, I wasn’t going to pass it up.
I’ve thought about going to my knees and taking you in my mouth.
I guessed that answered my question. As I read the rest of her message, I undid my jeans, needing to ease the increasing pressure there.
Lick from root to tip, tracing every vein with my tongue. Take that drip of precum at the tip and swallow it.
Fuck me.
What would you like to do to me?
Hundreds of ideas flooded my mind, but I stuck with the current subject.
I’d go to my knees, pull your legs over my shoulders, and bury my face between your legs. Lick you from ass to clit. Plunge my tongue inside your sweet pussy.
I groaned at the mental video my words created and shoved my hand into my pants, gripping my swollen cock. How the fuck had I gone from completely soft to achingly hard in such a short period of time? I stroked myself, wishing it was her hand, her mouth.
Are you touching yourself?
I sent back a thumbs up, the easiest thing for me to type one-handed.
Proof or it’s not happening.
This was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. While I trusted Sienna, I knew that sending any sort of sexual picture could have serious consequences if the wrong person got hold of it.
And I simply did not give a damn.
I snapped a picture of me holding my cock at the base, and then another with my fist at the top, making it clear exactly what I was doing.
Your turn.
I lazily moved my hand up and down, waiting to see if she’d return the favor. It almost didn’t seem real. Like I’d fallen asleep at the computer and was dreaming this. I could honestly say I hadn’t been expecting this when I’d texted her. Maybe a little flirting or some innuendo. Dirty talk and pictures hadn’t even been on my radar.
I’m pretending it’s your fingers.
The message came through a few seconds before the picture and I nearly came right then and there. She was sitting behind her desk, skirt bunched up around her waist, panties at her knees, and she had two fingers buried deep inside her pussy.
I turned on speech to text, too turned on to take my hand off my dick and too impatient to type with one hand.
“Fuck yourself on my fingers, baby. Take ‘em nice and deep in that tight, hot cunt of yours. Play with your nipples, too. Show me your tits. I want to see how hard your nipples are.”
My hips were moving in time with my hand, fucking my fist the way I wanted to fuck her mouth. I took another picture and sent it since I’d asked for another one of hers.
Several messages dinged in, one after the other.
Her hand cupping her breast, pinching one pert nipple between her thumb and forefinger.
Fingers spreading her lower lips to show the pink flesh they concealed.
Her thumb on her clit even as she sank a third finger inside her.
I want you to suck on my clit. Give me a little bit of teeth. Shove a fourth finger in my pussy to get me ready because your cock is so fucking thick.
“Are you gonna come for me? I want you to come. Want to think about you screaming my name while I imagine you taking my cock all the way, take me into your throat so deep.”
I sent the message even as another one came in.
I’d swallow you down. Every fucking inch. And I wouldn’t spill a drop.
That did it for me. My eyes squeezed shut as I came all over my hand. I was somewhat aware that I was making a mess, but all I could see in my head was what Sienna would look like with her lips stretched around the base of my cock as I pumped my load into her.
My body went limp, my breathing ragged. Only the signaling of an incoming message made me force my eyes open again.
Two pictures. One of her hand squeezed between her thighs, which I knew meant she’d come. The other was of her, with two of her fingers in her mouth. I groaned and my cock twitched, wanting to harden again at that sight. Instead, I took a picture of my spent cock in a pool of cum.
Then another message.
That was fun. I gotta get back to work now.
I smiled as I sent back, me too .
It was another minute before I had the energy to get off the couch and clean myself up. Fortunately, I had at least kept my cum off the furniture.
I’d just returned to sit in front of my laptop when a phone call came through. Seeing Gavin’s name on the screen brought a flash of guilt, but I reminded myself that Sienna was an adult who could do what she wanted, and then I answered the phone.
“Hey, Gavin.”
“You will not believe what just happened to me.” He sounded furious. “I got swatted.”
“Fuck.” All the good I’d felt from my exchange with Sienna disappeared under worry. “Is everyone okay?”
“No one was hurt, but the kids and Carrie are all rattled.”
“Wow.” I couldn’t even imagine what that must’ve been like for them. The idea of having SWAT officers bursting into my home, thinking I was someone dangerous, was frightening on its own. I couldn’t think of how I’d react if I had a family, and that happened. “Do they know who did it?”
“No, but I don’t think it’s random,” Gavin said. “Did you hear about the lighting rig falling?”
“Yeah.” Knowing he wouldn’t want to know any of the details about that, I gave him something else. “My offices were vandalized on Thursday.”
Gavin was silent for a moment. “I think we both should start looking into this stuff.”
I agreed. I almost suggested we go to the cops with it, but I knew I couldn’t make that decision for Gavin. I’d involved the authorities in what’d happened with me, but the rest of it was his to decide about. His business, his family. If he asked my opinion, I’d give it, but I’d keep my mouth shut otherwise.
A part of me hoped it was just a run of bad luck, but the sick feeling in my gut said that this was just the beginning.
And that things were going to get worse before they got better.
Dammit.