“No, but thanks.” I turned and headed for the door, speeding away from her.
It was only when I was safely back in my room that it hit me. That woman—Kelli—had handed herself to me on a platter. And I couldn’t go through with it. I groaned, pulling on the strands of my hair.
Why?
Because of Sumner?
How could an almost-kiss with Sumner, something so hilariously chaste, make me feel more than anything the yoga instructor had done?
A glance at the clock on my nightstand told me it was even later than I’d realized. With a heavy sigh, I headed for the shower. The hot water streamed over my skin, and I lathered up the soap, washing my arms and shoulders, chest and lower still until I was gripping my cock.
Why?Why Sumner? Why couldn’t I get her out of my head?
My cock grew in my hand, and I told myself I was just going to soap up and then rinse off.Just… I squeezed, closing my eyes briefly as an image of Sumner flooded my mind. Her lips. That smile.
I’d resisted this for so long. Jacking off to images of my best friend’s daughter was so wrong. Sodirty. And yet, my body craved it. Craved her.
Another stroke.Just one more,I told myself.
But I could feel my control slipping, need overpowering me. This summer had been torture. Watching her from afar, wanting her from afar.
I should stop.
I placed my palm against the cold tile, my breath coming in short pants as a war raged within me. Ishouldstop. I couldn’t stop. I…Oh fuck. I ran my hand down my chest, imagining it was Sumner’s small fingers. Her hand tugging slightly on my balls. Her lips wrapped around my cock as she blinked up at me. And then, the muscles of my stomach tightened, andoh shit,I exploded.
I squeezed my eyes shut, the world spinning. My thoughts like a merry-go-round that someone had pushed faster and faster and faster, until I was ready to throw up. Yet beneath all that was a deep sense of release, of a need finally sated.
And fast on its heels—disgust. I shouldn’t have done that. I couldn’t let it happen again. I finished showering and then toweled off, unable to meet my eyes in the mirror. Fuck, this was going to be a long week.
* * *
I escortedSumner down the hall to her room, rubbing my temples as if it would ease the tension building there. The tension building…everywhere. My whole body felt as if I might explode. I was a grenade, and the pin had been pulled. I was merely waiting to detonate.
I’d been short-tempered all day, despite how well our meetings had gone. We’d closed another big deal even though I’d been distracted. And Sumner had seemed different. More confident, somehow. Though I couldn’t put my finger on the exact reason for it.
Or maybe I was just even more attuned to her, my guilt and self-loathing ratcheting up to an all-time high after what I’d done in the shower last night. But, damn. The dress she’d worn today, the way it clung to her curves, hinting at all that luscious skin…it was all too much.
She paused. “You okay?” Nothing ever escaped her notice, at least not when it came to me.
“Yeah.” I forced a smile. “I should’ve had something else to drink or maybe had more water today.” Between another punishing workout this morning and then consuming more coffee and alcohol than water, I knew tomorrow was going to be a bitch. “I’m going to regret it in the morning.”
Occasionally, I’d go out for drinks with clients, but it was rare. That said, I found myself more inclined to do so this trip, using it as an excuse to prolong my time with Sumner. I figured if we were in a group, it was safer. I could still enjoy her company without feeling like I was doing something wrong because, technically, it was a work event.
“I have just the thing.” She grinned, practically skipping down the hall ahead of me. I shook my head with a laugh, envious of her energy.
She unlocked the door to her room and pushed it open. “Give me a second to find it.”
I remained at the doorway, watching her, so fucking drawn to her. The way she brushed her hair away from her face. The way she pulled her lower lip into her mouth when deep in thought. The way she moved—as if she owned the world and dared anyone to challenge her.
“Ah. Here it is!” She held up a box, victory written in her smile.
“What’s this?” I couldn’t take a step closer. I couldn’t. Or else I’d go over the edge.
“Failproof hangover remedy,” she said.
I turned the box over and glanced at the ingredients. Didn’t seem too awful. But would it work?
Perhaps sensing my skepticism, she said, “You’ll be thanking me in the morning.” Even though her statement was intended to be innocent, it felt anything but. Or maybe that was just my thoughts—my imagination running wild with the possibilities, my brain lighting up like a slot machine.
