Chapter 14 Cleo #2
He covers his heart with his hand. “Truly. I’m so glad Paxton paid you to be an elf at my ex-wife’s marriage reception.” He’s being funny, but I can tell the thought of Paxton is making him a little anxious again.
We could be here for a while, so I need to do something about that. I clocked a stash of absorbent paper towels and bottled water in here earlier for cleanup… “Me too. Come sit with me again.” I pat the floor next to me in front of the door.
He picks up the suit jacket he had removed, folds it, then plants a kiss on my lips before settling against the door.
I lean in toward him, nuzzling and then kissing his neck.
He wraps his arm around me, his groan vibrating against my lips.
I begin stroking his chest. His pecs feel so good, I have to unbutton his shirt because I remember getting a glimpse of some chest hair back in the day and I need to get my hands on everything that’s going on in there.
Bingo.
A perfect smattering of dark chest hair. I plant kisses below his collarbone and down, down, down.
“Back to driving me crazy, huh?”
“I was merely exploring your upper-front-torso quadrant. I can venture south, toward your lower-front-torso quadrant with my hand, if you’d like.”
“Yesssss. I would like.”
“I would also like…” I stroke him over the pants again, slowly and gently.
He expresses gratitude with a very firm erection and a moan.
His shaky inhale tells me I need to free the beast immediately, and I do that.
I unzip and shepherd that big, bad boy out.
It is the most handsome erection I have ever seen.
For such a grumpy man, he has a remarkably pleasant-looking penis.
And strong. Like the boner of a man from an empire of steel should be.
His skin is so hot and stretched tight. I lightly drag my fingertips up the significant length of his shaft and then raise my hand to my mouth and wait for his heavy-lidded eyes to follow.
Holding his gaze, I lick up the palm of my right hand.
And then the left, because this will be a two-hand job.
I get to work stroking upward from his balls with both hands at the same time and then trailing each other, up and down the shaft, one after the other. Slowly, with a firmer grip each time.
“Fuck, I was so obsessed with you in film school.”
Gripping the base of his shaft with one hand, I give careful attention to the head with the other. “Yeah. Same.” Pulling, sliding, tugging at the most sensitive part.
There’s a super masculine, badass rumble at the back of his throat that turns into a really vulnerable sound that I love. “Why didn’t you come up to the hotel room? Huh? Why did you leave town without seeing me?”
“Call me old-fashioned, but I’d prefer to discuss that when I’m not in the middle of performing a low-key hand job.”
“Fair enough.”
“Are you having trouble relaxing? Would you like me to be more aggressive?”
“No, I have absolutely no complaints.”
Making a ring with my index finger and thumb, I twist under the head and then stroke up and down.
“God, you are so fucking hot—you know that?”
“I do.”
“You are the best thing that has ever happened to my cock.”
“Thank you.”
“Now. For years you were the worst. Unbearable. Torture. I have had…the filthiest…monstrous…”
I’m using both hands again, picking up speed, varying pressure, twisting and squeezing, and he’s starting to undulate, so I move with him, leaning into him.
He doesn’t finish his sentence, but he does finish.
Coming all over my hand, it’s so hot how hard he tries to stay quiet.
I want to know what he sounds like when he is uninhibited, but this is so sexy.
It’s so much. Like, years of backup. I’m sure it isn’t, but it really seems like it.
I hold my hand steady when Elijah goes still.
After a quiet moment, I get up to grab paper towels and a bottle of water to clean him off.
He hasn’t gone all ragdoll like I did. I can see that he’s fighting to hold his head up and keep his eyes open.
He isn’t smiling exactly, but his dimples are showing and he bites his lower lip.
“That’s so hot,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.
“What is?”
“You’re cleaning me.”
“Don’t expect this kind of treatment every time.”
“Every time? I like the sound of that.” Now he’s really smiling. “I like you.”
“I like you too, Elijah.”
I signal that I’m done, and he puts his cock back and zips up. “I’m gonna close my eyes for a minute.”
“I’ll wake you up if I hear anything out there.”
He almost nods and then rests his head against the door, and he’s out like a handsome, very relaxed Christmas light.
I straighten up a little, check my blouse, find a couple of buttons on the floor and store them by my side before curling up on the floor and resting my head in Elijah’s lap.
When I wake up I have no idea how long I was asleep, but Elijah and I are both on the floor, in what can only be described as a mangled-spoon position. It takes me a while to realize the thing that woke me up is a voice. A man’s voice outside the closet. Simon.
“Cleo? Anyone here? Mr. Abrams?”
“Simon? Simon!” I call out, trying to rouse Elijah and stand up. I bang on the door. “Simon! We’re in the supply closet!”
“Cleo? You’re in here?”
“Yes! The door is stuck! Can you open it?”
Elijah hops up and grabs his jacket, combs his fingers through his hair, and then collects all of the sticky notes he wrote on. I pick up my buttons and tuck my ripped blouse into my skirt.
“Aww, sure. Lemme put the coffees down first—I brought you both coffee drinks. I’ve had to do this for a few people over the years, in different offices. It’s like this on every floor in this building, would you believe that? I got this. Stay back, okay? I’m gonna have to…”
And the door pops open.
I don’t know what he did, but he didn’t have to kick the door in.
“There’s a trick to it,” he says. “Oh, you’re here too?” he says to Elijah.
“We couldn’t find the good sticky notes, and I forgot to use the ream of paper,” he says, holding out his hand to shake Simon’s. “Thank you for your service.”
“No problem. How long were you guys in here?”
Elijah hurries out, to his office.
“No idea. Thank you so much for the coffee, Simon—you are a lifesaver.” I am going to bombard him with gratitude so he doesn’t have time to question why I have fuck hair and my blouse is missing some buttons.
“Peppermint mocha again.”
“So sweet of you. This is, really, so thoughtful!” I put my cardigan on and button it up all the way, spending ten minutes chatting with Simon while Elijah is in his office.
It sounds like he’s called Paxton back and manages to catch him before they go out for the day.
He sounds happy. I can’t stop smiling, and I am pretty sure Simon thinks I’m smiling because I’m so pleased to see him.
Better that than him realizing it’s because my temporary boss and I both came all over each other in the supply closet.
Simon asks me out, and I tell him the truth—that I’m heading out of town and that I’m seeing someone. He takes it well. I thank him again, and as soon as he leaves, I grab the used paper towels from the supply closet and toss them into the trash in the ladies’ room down the hall.
When Elijah comes out of his office, I’m packing up the Christmas tree and elf into my duffel bag.
“Hey. What are you doing?”
“Packing up my things. You can keep the decorations in your office if you want them.”
“I do. I want them. You don’t have to go.”
“Did I mention I have to drive up to Paso Robles to stay with my parents over Christmas?”
“What? When?”
“In a couple of hours. I have to go home and pack up a few things first. But you don’t need me to help you with the script notes anymore, so…”
His face falls. “You’re leaving?” I can tell he’s about to say again. He looks so disheartened.
He thinks I’m leaving him again, like eight years ago.
I walk over to kiss his cheek. “I’m not abandoning you, Elijah.
You can call or text me. You can even come up to visit if you’d like.
” I write on the pad of paper that’s on Elaine’s desk.
“This is an email account that I created eight years ago. Here is the password. I’m the only one who has emailed the account.
Please read the emails. It will explain why I didn’t meet you in the hotel room.
” I hand him the paper. “Read the emails after I leave. Okay?”
He nods.
“You promise?”
“Of course. I didn’t know you were going to leave so soon. We’re good, right?”
I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my forehead against his chest.
He holds me and strokes my hair.
“Elijah. We’re so good. I like you so much. And you like me.”
“I like you so much.”
“I’m so sorry I have to go, but I have to. I’m not leaving you. I will see you soon.”
“Okay. I’ll read the emails. Drive safe. Will you text me when you get there?”
“Yes. Yes.” I gather up my things. He is so sweet—I need to get out of here before I blow him in his office. I kiss him again and again and again. “Thanks for the O, but I have to go! You okay?” I grimace because, whoops, I rhymed again.
He smirks and waves. “I’m feeling just dandy—thanks so much for the handy.”