He’s touching himself now. The rhythmic sound of his hand stroking his shaft, combined with his laboured breathing, fills the silence.
“You’re not fucking yourself like I told you to,” Dodger warns, his voice husky and breathless. “I want to hear, baby girl.”
My head falls back, and I do what he asks, drawing my fingers back, only to plunge them back inside over and over. The slurping, wet sounds fill the air, just like he wanted, and my breath starts to come in little pants as my orgasm draws closer.
“If I were there, I’d have a finger in your ass too,” he says. “I bet you’d clench so fucking hard around me.”
I lick my lips. “Was that an order, sir?”
He groans. “Nasty girl. You want to play?”
I slip one finger free and trace my own lubrication down to the crease of my ass. I’m already sopping wet, so slipping inside to the first knuckle is easy, but when I draw back and forge forward a little deeper, I cry out.
“You like playing with your little ass for me?” Dodger demands. “I’d fuck you there too, you know. And you’d let me, wouldn’t you? You’d let me stretch you open and fuck your ass until I filled you up with my cum. Then I’d plug it, so you could walk around with me trapped inside you for the whole day.”
“Yes, sir,” I whimper.
“Touch your clit,” he orders. “I want you to come, and I want to hear every glorious second.”
My spare hand lowers to follow the command, strumming in that familiar rhythm. Dodger’s laboured grunts reassure me he’s striving for his own release, and in my mind, I picture him fisting his cock, arm muscles flexing as he strokes it.
I come, legs clenching hard over the armrests of my chair as I fall apart with such loud, reckless abandon that I wouldn’t be surprised if even the soundproofed walls of my room aren’t enough to muffle me.
“Fuck.” Dodger groans, the sound reverberating through my ears as my body slumps, finally relaxed.
For a long minute, we say nothing, both of us finding comfort in the sound of the other’s harsh breaths slowly evening out.
“Draw yourself a bath,” he whispers, the order softer, laced with regret. “I’d do it for you, but…”
Butthe distance is too great.Butthis is just about mutual stress relief, nothing more.But, despite our earlier words, I’m nothisto do that stuff for.
Too many thoughts weigh down the pause, and a bitter taste fills my mouth as I curse myself once again for being so stupid.
Because Dodger isn’t part of the plan. The plan is to find someone who’s nice, stable, reliable, husband material. Not one single member of my clan—of Hazardous—fits those criteria. No matter how much I wish otherwise.
“Okay,” I promise, even though I don’t have the energy to move. “Goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams.”
I tap the side of my headset, disconnecting the call.
Leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Four
Darcy
The knock comes too early.Waytoo early. I’m barely conscious as I rub sleep out of my eyes with one hand and feel around my nightstand for my glasses with the other. Once I can actually see, I glance at the alarm clock. It’s eight in the morning. Ugh.
Stumbling my way across my darkened bedroom, I trip over my own dirty laundry as I make my way to the glowing outline of the door.
Opening it blinds me. My room is a sanctum of darkness, but beyond it, the summer sun cascades through the windows, illuminating everything, and I have to squint to make out who dared disturb my slumber.
Oh.
Man stands in front of me, one brow quirked in amusement. I swear he does this on purpose. HeknowsI hate mornings.
I meet his blue eyes and let my displeasure show on my face. Normally, there’s some downtime after a mission before he expects us to get back into training. Not much, but a day or two to decompress.
