Screwed
Page 33
She cries out and rubs her greedy hands up and down my cock while her hips press forward, giving me all the access I want to her wet cunt.
“Hayden,” she says on a groan. “What are we doing?”
I look at her—really look at her—and realize she’s tipsy. And questioning what we’re doing. I suddenly feel like a grade-A asshole. She’s not sure about this, and my determination instantly fades.
“Emery. I’m sorry,” I murmur, taking a step back and tucking myself into my pants. Ouch. Damn zipper. I have to stop this before we go too far . . . do something we’ll both regret in the morning.
“W-what?” she asks, her eyes glassy and her cheeks pink. “What are you doing?”
“You’ve had too much to drink. You’re not thinking clearly, and I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”
She takes a step toward me, her chest bouncing in the push-up bra. “You’re not . . .”
I lean down and press my lips to hers. “It’s just not a good idea. Good night.”
I’m not sure when I turned so chivalrous, but I take a deep breath and force myself to walk away. Since we’re sharing a room, the only reprieve is the bathroom—and that’s where I go. I pull out my aching cock and jack it so hard and fast, I’m almost raw by the time I come.
When I’m composed and cleaned up, I exit the bathroom and find Emery already curled up in bed, lying on her side, facing away from me as she snores lightly.
And I know I’ve made the right decision.
At least, I hope I have.
Chapter Fourteen
Emery
Yet another endless day of negotiations and legal nitpicking. The hotel’s air-conditioning can barely keep the stifling atmosphere at bay.
I resist the urge to drum my fingers on the polished conference table. For Christ’s sake, you indecisive twits . . . what the hell is the problem? These suit-wearing chimps said they were happy with the paperwork when we e-mailed them our final drafts two weeks ago. Why did they wait until now to start hemming and hawing and scribbling notes?
These documents should be signed, sealed, and delivered already. I thought we were done with this freaking case. Isn’t that why we all flew out to the middle of nowhere? What happened to all that “celebrate a job well done” stuff? Even on a good day, this dull-as-dishwater meeting would make me antsy . . . and my memories of last night elevate it to pure torture.
I can’t stop thinking about the skillful way that Hayden kisses. His long, thick cock tenting his pants and throbbing in my hands. His deft fingers on my clit. He looks incredibly handsome in a suit, but now I know that he looks even better halfway out of one. I wonder how he would look completely naked. Probably like a sculpture from ancient Greece. Why do I have to be stuck in here? Why isn’t that sexy bastard on top of me right now?
Fuck . . . I’m slowly but surely driving myself insane. I wish Hayden hadn’t stopped our fun just before we got to the good part. Sure, I was buzzed, but I wasn’t that drunk.
Unable to fight off my horny boredom anymore, I hide my phone under the table and text him as subtly as possible.
Emery : Please kill me now.
A minute later, my phone vibrates.
Hayden : Sorry, no can do. Would a good joke help?
My heart races as I text back.
Emery : The only thing that would make this meeting less awful is if you were under the table.
I try to quell my nerves. Will he take the bait? Will my flirting come across as sexy or desperate? Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. If I have to, I can always pass it off as a joke.
My trepidation dissolves into a flush of heat at his near-immediate reply.
Hayden : Fuck yes. I’ve thought about that.
I fight to avoid cracking a smile in front of the fat cats.
Emery : Why am I not surprised?
Hayden : Because you’re at the office all the time, looking like a hot librarian. A man’s fantasies have to come from somewhere.
Emery : Thanks for the insight into your creative process, Mr. Oliver.
I bite my lip at his next message.
Hayden : I’d hide under your desk, my head under your skirt. Reward the high-powered lawyer for all her hard work. Suck on your clit until you were nice and wet for me. Could you keep a straight face if someone came in?
This really isn’t helping me sit still and pay attention, but I can’t bring myself to stop now. My body is running on pure adrenaline now.
Emery : Nope, that’s why we’d lock the door.
Too aroused to be embarrassed, I add: If you did a good job, I’d let you fuck me on my desk .
Hayden : I always do a good job.
Emery : Is that so? I’m sure you could provide a long list of references.
Hayden : What can I say? This level of skill takes practice.
My lip quirks in amusement at his cockiness. A few weeks ago, his tendency to fuck everything that moved would have bothered me—especially if he didn’t even try to deny it. But I’ve accepted his checkered past as part of him. Nobody’s perfect, after all. And it’s not like we’re dating. We’re just two friends who want to fool around.
After a few more rounds of borderline sexting, he changes the subject.
Hayden : What’s your schedule for tonight? I want to steal you away.
My stomach flips with excitement.
Emery : Promise I’ll be done by six. Meet you at the hotel bar?
Hayden : Wouldn’t miss it for the world.
I slip my phone back into my purse, feeling self-satisfied. I’ve made my decision: I’m going to sleep with him tonight. No more second-guessing my own judgment, no more obsessing over what the future might bring, no more vaguely moralistic oh, I really shouldn’t waffling.
“Hayden,” she says on a groan. “What are we doing?”
I look at her—really look at her—and realize she’s tipsy. And questioning what we’re doing. I suddenly feel like a grade-A asshole. She’s not sure about this, and my determination instantly fades.
“Emery. I’m sorry,” I murmur, taking a step back and tucking myself into my pants. Ouch. Damn zipper. I have to stop this before we go too far . . . do something we’ll both regret in the morning.
“W-what?” she asks, her eyes glassy and her cheeks pink. “What are you doing?”
“You’ve had too much to drink. You’re not thinking clearly, and I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”
She takes a step toward me, her chest bouncing in the push-up bra. “You’re not . . .”
I lean down and press my lips to hers. “It’s just not a good idea. Good night.”
I’m not sure when I turned so chivalrous, but I take a deep breath and force myself to walk away. Since we’re sharing a room, the only reprieve is the bathroom—and that’s where I go. I pull out my aching cock and jack it so hard and fast, I’m almost raw by the time I come.
When I’m composed and cleaned up, I exit the bathroom and find Emery already curled up in bed, lying on her side, facing away from me as she snores lightly.
And I know I’ve made the right decision.
At least, I hope I have.
Chapter Fourteen
Emery
Yet another endless day of negotiations and legal nitpicking. The hotel’s air-conditioning can barely keep the stifling atmosphere at bay.
I resist the urge to drum my fingers on the polished conference table. For Christ’s sake, you indecisive twits . . . what the hell is the problem? These suit-wearing chimps said they were happy with the paperwork when we e-mailed them our final drafts two weeks ago. Why did they wait until now to start hemming and hawing and scribbling notes?
These documents should be signed, sealed, and delivered already. I thought we were done with this freaking case. Isn’t that why we all flew out to the middle of nowhere? What happened to all that “celebrate a job well done” stuff? Even on a good day, this dull-as-dishwater meeting would make me antsy . . . and my memories of last night elevate it to pure torture.
I can’t stop thinking about the skillful way that Hayden kisses. His long, thick cock tenting his pants and throbbing in my hands. His deft fingers on my clit. He looks incredibly handsome in a suit, but now I know that he looks even better halfway out of one. I wonder how he would look completely naked. Probably like a sculpture from ancient Greece. Why do I have to be stuck in here? Why isn’t that sexy bastard on top of me right now?
Fuck . . . I’m slowly but surely driving myself insane. I wish Hayden hadn’t stopped our fun just before we got to the good part. Sure, I was buzzed, but I wasn’t that drunk.
Unable to fight off my horny boredom anymore, I hide my phone under the table and text him as subtly as possible.
Emery : Please kill me now.
A minute later, my phone vibrates.
Hayden : Sorry, no can do. Would a good joke help?
My heart races as I text back.
Emery : The only thing that would make this meeting less awful is if you were under the table.
I try to quell my nerves. Will he take the bait? Will my flirting come across as sexy or desperate? Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. If I have to, I can always pass it off as a joke.
My trepidation dissolves into a flush of heat at his near-immediate reply.
Hayden : Fuck yes. I’ve thought about that.
I fight to avoid cracking a smile in front of the fat cats.
Emery : Why am I not surprised?
Hayden : Because you’re at the office all the time, looking like a hot librarian. A man’s fantasies have to come from somewhere.
Emery : Thanks for the insight into your creative process, Mr. Oliver.
I bite my lip at his next message.
Hayden : I’d hide under your desk, my head under your skirt. Reward the high-powered lawyer for all her hard work. Suck on your clit until you were nice and wet for me. Could you keep a straight face if someone came in?
This really isn’t helping me sit still and pay attention, but I can’t bring myself to stop now. My body is running on pure adrenaline now.
Emery : Nope, that’s why we’d lock the door.
Too aroused to be embarrassed, I add: If you did a good job, I’d let you fuck me on my desk .
Hayden : I always do a good job.
Emery : Is that so? I’m sure you could provide a long list of references.
Hayden : What can I say? This level of skill takes practice.
My lip quirks in amusement at his cockiness. A few weeks ago, his tendency to fuck everything that moved would have bothered me—especially if he didn’t even try to deny it. But I’ve accepted his checkered past as part of him. Nobody’s perfect, after all. And it’s not like we’re dating. We’re just two friends who want to fool around.
After a few more rounds of borderline sexting, he changes the subject.
Hayden : What’s your schedule for tonight? I want to steal you away.
My stomach flips with excitement.
Emery : Promise I’ll be done by six. Meet you at the hotel bar?
Hayden : Wouldn’t miss it for the world.
I slip my phone back into my purse, feeling self-satisfied. I’ve made my decision: I’m going to sleep with him tonight. No more second-guessing my own judgment, no more obsessing over what the future might bring, no more vaguely moralistic oh, I really shouldn’t waffling.
