“I didn’t think of that,” she says, seeming embarrassed, but I shake my head.
“You wouldn’t have,” I say, with a shake of my head. “Most wouldn’t, unless they’ve been doing this kind of thing for a while. I have, so I know. I don’t think most others would include that, which might set you apart in the final decision process. Not that you need an edge, June. This design right here is the clear winner.” I look over it again, awe in my words. It’s colorful and vibrant, showcasing the community and some of the town’s landmarks for locals and tourists alike. It perfectly encapsulates the town, and more importantly, the way June sees it. I smile when I spot a few of her lucky symbols tucked in there, as well—a rainbow and a ladybug. “If it’s not chosen, you should sell prints. It’s amazing, June.”
“It’s just a rough draft,’ she murmurs, trying to downplay her ability as usual.
“No, it’s not,” I say firmly.
“Yes—”
“June, don’t lie to me. Friends don’t do that.” I press my lips to her neck, and her breath hitches.
“And we’re friends,” she asks, voice going breathy, lifting a hand behind her and holding my head to her.
“We’re so much more than friends, lady luck,” I murmur, pulling the laptop closer. “Come on. Let’s finish this.”
“Finish?”
“You lied to your friends the other day—you already have the proposal done; you just haven’t submitted it. You’re going to finish it and submit it right now.”
“Graham,” she starts, but I shake my head.
“No. Because if you don’t just do it, you’re never going to. You’re scared, but I’m right here to help you be brave.”
There’s a moment of hesitation before her words go soft, nervous. “I just don’t think I know what I’m doing. I’m fully unqualified.”
“That’s not true, but even if it was, it would solely be the business aspect of it you’re not well-versed in. And lucky for you, you have me. Now, let’s finish it. Start with the pricing.” My hand moves to her thigh, and I squeeze her bare skin. “Come on, June. The faster we do this, the faster I can get you in bed.” She takes in a heavy breath, the sound shaky, not with nervous energy this time, but something different.
“Graham, let’s do this later. We have better things to do.” She wiggles her ass into my crotch to prove her point. I’m already growing hard for her, and I think she thinks she can tempt me into giving in, but I think she greatly underestimates just how long I’ve had to ignore the attraction always brewing in my gut for her.
“We do, and once we get this done, we can move on to those better things.” I tighten my fingers around her lush, soft thigh.
“This isn’t important,” she starts, but I stop her.
“Nothing is more important than chasing your dream, June. Nothing. Now.” My hand slides up, my thumb grazing along the center of her panties, over her center. “Be a good girl and show me what you’ve done on your proposal so far.” Her breath catches, and a tiny mewl leaves her lips. The sound travels straight to my dick, making it jump, but I’m enjoying this game far too much, and I want to win.
“Graham—”
“Now, June.” My thumb grazes over her clit, and I dip my head to press another kiss to her neck. “Pricing. We have to factor in the time and the cost of goods. What do you have for the projected expenses?”
She sighs, then opens a spreadsheet. I’m again impressed to see she has outlined it well, including the basic cost of materials, plus tiers for different levels of quality, her hourly rate, which shouldabsolutelybe higher, and the cost of the machinery she would need.
“This is good,” I say, my hand sliding up, then down her thigh. “This is really good, baby.” I cup her pussy in reward, and she lets out a breath, hips shifting forward into my hand. “You need to increase this number.” I lift my free hand and point to her hourly rate as if I’m not pushing one finger against her entrance over her panties. “And add ten percent more materials than you think you need.”
“I don’t want to take advantage,” she says, and somehow, her not brushing me off and going with this is even more of a turn on.
“And you also don’t want to undershoot the cost and have to eat it. Trust me.” She looks over her shoulder at me, a bit confused and unsure, before starting to do some calculationsand adjusting the numbers. In response, my hand shifts, my thumb meeting her clit over her underwear and starting to rub there gently.
“Graham,” she murmurs.
“Mmm.”
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you some motivation.”
“Graham—” she breathes, but my finger slides over her again, this time pressing harder on her clit, and she lets out a small moan.
“Now start taking those projected expenses and put them into your proposal. They look logical to me, and if I were the one hiring this out, it’s around what I would expect for a project this large.” She looks over her shoulder at me, and then I see it: the sparkle. The joy, the love of poking at me, of making my life complicated, of teasing and irritating me. Her desire to rise to my challenge and beat me at my own game.
