Chapter Eight #4
I pulled out the chair next to him and he groaned as I sat down, leaning toward him. “I really want to stay.”
“Oh, fuck me,” Jace grumbled. He pointed to one of the buttons in the center of the table. “At least shut the damn shades if you’re going to prolong my torture.”
I chuckled and stood up, pressed the button, and waited for the shades to lower before sitting back in the chair and leaning forward. I put my hands on Jace’s knees, and his entire body tensed as he drew in a sharp breath.
“Tell me what made you so hard,” I said, feeling more confident with him than I’d ever felt with anybody else. His blatant desire for me was a huge turn-on and ego boost.
He blew out a breath. “You, of course. I don’t know what it is about you, but you really are fucking brilliant.
Plus, I know how hot you are beneath all that.
” He gestured to the dark blue Oxford tucked into my slacks.
“Seriously. How smart are you? Your presentation screamed above-average intelligence. What’s your IQ? ”
“That’s not a thing the average person knows about themselves,” I said.
“No, but you’re not an average person.”
I sighed. “One hundred and fifty-five.”
“Is that high?”
It’s very high. I believe my high school guidance counselor said, “extremely gifted.”
“Average is around one hundred and fifteen.”
“Damn.” Jace dropped a hand to his dick, squeezing it through his pants. “Shit, this is so bad. HR is not going to like this.”
“Forget HR,” I whispered, my dick thickening as I watched him squirm. “I want to touch you right now. Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” he said breathlessly.
I reached forward and pushed his hand off his lap, squeezing his dick before roughly rubbing the heel of my hand up and down his erection.
Jace closed his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, this is embarrassing.” He moaned and moved his hips against my hand, seeking friction and letting out small sounds of pleasure as he rubbed against my palm. “Get out, Kayd,” he crocked. “This is only going to get worse for me.”
“No,” I whispered in his ear. “You don’t really want me to leave do you?”
He shook his head, face pinched tight.
“Good, then come in your pants and ruin that fancy suit for me.”
I rubbed my hand vigorously against his dick, wrapping my hand around him through the fabric and stroking my thumb over the tip where moisture was already seeping through. “Or do you want me to get on my knees and take you in mouth?” I offered.
“Fuck, don’t stop, Kayd. I’m so close,” he said, dropping his head back.
“You can’t even wait for my lips, can you?”
“No,” he groaned as he pressed his dick up into my hand and one of his hands dropped to cover mine as his hips tightened.
His back arched and his lips parted on a silent moan as I rubbed him through his climax.
He pulled his hand off mine and I released him, smirking at the wet spot on his pants that continued to grow, his thick come soaking through the fabric and onto my fingers.
“Happy?” he asked, chest heaving as his eyes settled on me again. “I’ve never come in my pants for anyone before.”
“I think this is going to be one hell of an interesting assignment,” I said, leaning back and folding my arms across my chest. “But since the personal side of our relationship is still under wraps as far as I’m concerned, you’re going to have to get better control of your orgasm reflex.”
“You’re very smug.” He wiggled his pants around like he was trying to figure out how to make his situation more comfortable.
“No one’s ever come in their pants watching me give a presentation, Jace,” I said, adjusting my own painful erection. “That’s an ego boost I didn’t know I needed.”
“That’s a gross misinterpretation of what just happened,” he grumbled.
I stood up to see myself out and smiled at him as I tucked my laptop into my bag. “I guess we won’t be keeping this professional after all?” I asked.
“Are you going to call me?”
I nodded. “If you can handle the obvious conflict of interest.”
“I realize I’m not giving the impression that I can, since I’m sitting here in my own come, but yes, I can handle it.
” He ran a hand through his curls and took a deep breath.
“I won’t go easy on you, I promise. Set up a meeting with Rita for me to see your first full draft in three weeks with the changes we talked about. ”
“Of course, Mr. Cohen,” I said professionally as I pulled open the conference room door.
“Fuck me,” Jace muttered, tipping his head back.
“Another time, Jace.” I laughed as I walked out the door, leaving him there to clean up his mess.
It wasn’t until I was setting up the appointment with Rita that I realized how little anxiety I felt about this project now.
Not because of whatever Jace and I were doing personally, but because he set me at ease in a way no one else had before.
I’d had enough therapy to know that anxiety is an individual problem and you can’t rely on other people to solve it for you but it sure did help to be around someone who seemed to quiet the noise in my head without even trying.