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5
We spokeevery night as promised, the anticipation growing with each conversation. We’d spend well over an hour talking about ourselves and our days before ending with a session of phone sex that progressively got better than the last.
It got to the point that I couldn’t even hear the word Friday without feeling my dick twitch.
On the day itself, I shocked the shit out of everyone in the office when I said we’d be cutting out two hours early. I rarely ever cut a work day short. I ignored the questioning whispers as I frantically wrapped up everything I needed to get done and I took off as soon as I was finished, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone.
Rude? Maybe. But I had more important things to worry about.
Like scrubbing myself clean in the shower and jerking off in the vain hope that I’d be able to last longer later that night. It’d been a long damn time since I had sex and I was determined to make sure the first time with Juliet would out-do the fantastic phone sex we’d been having for the past week.
I still hadn’t told her my size, but she asked every night. I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. Especially not after she told me how big her favorite vibrator was and I realized I was just slightly bigger. My girl like big men and big dicks, it seemed. I was all too happy to oblige her with both.
I froze as I reached for a shirt, trying to figure out when I started thinking of Juliet as my girl. Was she my girl? I wasn’t sure, but I intended to find out.
If she wasn’t yet, I’d just have to make sure I had her screaming my name by the end of the night. I’d fuck any doubts about us out of her pretty little head.
I got dressed with a frown. Maybe the better question was—when the fuck did I get so territorial? I never had such possessive thoughts about Sarah.
My ex was the last thing I wanted on my mind, so I shrugged off the entire train of thought. It was a lot easier when my doorbell rang just as I was sliding into my black slacks.
I jogged downstairs, groaning when the door swung open before I even got to it. That could only mean one thing.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Layla greeted, spreading her arms wide and doing a twirl in the foyer as my brother closed the door. “Your entertainment for the night has arrived.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding. You couldn’t call first?”
“You’re not happy to see us?” Layla asked with a pout. “I’m shocked. Shocked and offended. We brought scotch.”
Mason held up the bottle and I sighed, wishing they had called in advance but appreciating the gesture nonetheless. Not even a month ago, hanging out with my brother and his wife were the only weekend plans I ever had.
“I appreciate you coming down here to keep me company—and the scotch—but you guys got to go. I’m heading out in a few minutes.”
Mason’s eyebrows raised in a knowing way, but Layla frowned. She looked like she was going to argue with me when her eyes lit up with recognition.
Oh shit.
“You have a date, don’t you?” she asked accusingly. When I didn’t reply, she started to laugh. “Please tell me it’s with the waitress.”
“Waitress? What waitress?” Mason asked, looking between the two of us with a frown.
“You know. The waitress from Edelman’s? I’m sure I told you,” Layla said, her face flushing when he just shook his head. “Oh shit! I can’t believe I forgot to mention it.”
I finished the walk down the steps and tried to guide them back out the way they came while Layla gave Mason a quick rundown of our lunch together a few weeks prior. Once they were out the door, Layla reached up to drag me outside with them.
“We’ll go, but tell me first.”
“Yeah, it’s her.”
“I’m so excited for you!” I could tell by the way she was bouncing on her feet. “First date?”
“Third.”
The bouncing stopped and an eyebrow slowly raised. Fucking hell.
“Oooh. Tonight’s the night, eh? That explains why you’re dressed so nicely.”
“Please don’t pry into my brother’s sex life, baby,” Mason pleaded as he took her elbow and gently tugged her toward the car. “At least not in front of me.”
