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“I invited him to make you jealous.”
“Did you now?” He squeezes my breast. “Well, it worked. If he hadn’t left you at the bar, I was going to have a waiter tell him his mommy was on the phone to get him away from you.” I shamefully laugh, then knock his hand away.
“Stop. He means well.”
“He’s a little shit.”
“He’s nice. And helpful.”
Levi makes a quick adjustment, and I find myself under him. “He’s off. I don’t want you talking to him anymore. You’re mine. I don’t want to share you with anyone—not even Poindexter.”
I laugh. He is kind of geeky. “I can’t just stop talking to him.”
“Yes, you can. And you better. Otherwise, I’ll have to find a way to ruin his life so he quits.” I know he’s joking, but I don’t want him making trouble for Braydon. He’s done nothing wrong. “Promise me you’re done with him.”
I don’t reply fast enough, and his teeth cover my nipple. “Ouch! Okay, I won’t! Levi, stop!” I start to laugh because his attempt at torturing me morphs into pleasure. “Please, stop, I’ll behave. When we go to lunch, I’ll tell him—ahhh…” I arch my back as he sucks so hard, he’s sure to leave a mark. “Levi, please,” I can’t not beg when it comes to him and his mouth, the way he touches me, soothes me, dominates me.
“I need you to be a good girl, Hannah, or else I’m going to have to torture this tight little body of yours.” I feel his smile through his lips pressing around my breast. He releases my flesh and moves to my other breast. “You eat lunch with me from now on. In my office, with the door shut. Because my lunch is going to be you, devouring this sweet cunt of yours.” I choke on my own laughter as he slides down my stomach, placing his mouth on my mound.
“Now, be a good little paralegal and open wide for me. I need to taste perfection.” My hands go limp, and my eyes fall shut as I lose myself into the abyss of Levi and his hungry mouth.
Hannah
I don’t understand why people don’t enjoy Mondays. It’s the start of a new week. Brand new—“Shoot!” I trip over my own two feet, stumbling out of the elevator.
“Ms. Matthews, are you okay?” Vanessa pops up from her chair as I pick myself up off the ground. Okay, I take that comment back. Mondays suck! I brush off my scraped knees, feeling the back of my skirt for any tears. Why would I even think Mondays are good? Maybe because you’re sleeping with your boss and you get to see him for the first time since your rendezvous all night Friday into Saturday? Of course not!
Also, yes.
When we were forced to check out and go our separate ways, I wanted to pout like a baby. So, maybe I did a little bit, but if we aren’t careful, we could risk getting caught. Thankfully before the night got too late, Levi had me shoot off a text to my parents, letting them know I’d left early and went to hang out with a friend. You know the make-believe ones I all of a sudden seem to have.
By morning, I had a dozen missed calls from Braydon. I sent him a quick text apologizing, saying I’d gotten sick and went home—praying he didn’t go to my house to check on me.
Levi had the same amount of missed calls from Kipley and Rebecca. My pout changed into a frown thinking about him calling her back and easing her worry, but then he made it all better by not responding at all, telling me she wasn’t his problem. Point for me.
I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the weekend with him, but if we wanted to keep this under wraps, he had to play it cool. I did my own thing, and so did he. On Sunday, while I was laying in the backyard with a face mask on, my hair flying high in the wind to air dry, Mom informed me Kip and Levi were stopping by to pick up Dad for golf. Not thinking I’d see him, especially wearing a bright green mask and my hair resembling Frankenstein, I booked it to my room. Sadly, I wasn’t fast enough, and Levi got a sneak peek of me at my best. I could hear his soft chuckle as I took the stairs two at a time, cussing under my breath.
But today, my skin glowing, my hair flat ironed and somewhat tamed, I walk into work, ready to see my man.
Okay. Rewind.
That sounds so weird!
My man. My man. My man.
Suddenly, my knees don’t hurt anymore and making a fool out of myself in front of the receptionist is no big deal. I wave her off, cheery as can be, and head toward my desk. I wonder if he’s in. If he’s as excited to see me. His office light is on, and when I peek my head in, I see him at his desk typing away.
