It made my day.
The only way it would’ve been better is if Courtney was under my desk sucking my cock as she’d done in the shower.
We won’t be doing that again.
But, fuck, I want to.
The number of nightmares I’ve had since that night is off the charts.One minute I’m hard and on the verge of waking up and jerking off, next minute my dream turns into the FBI swarming my home and arresting me.It wouldn’t happen like that, but my brain seems to think it would.
At least she’s not pregnant.
I met Courtney in the coffee shop down the road from a local pharmacy the next morning.She beat me to it, holding up a paper bag saying, “I got it already.”
I stood there with my hands in my coat pockets as she opened the package, swallowed it down with her coffee and grinned.
It wasn’t relief I felt; it was more fucking lust.
I wanted to kiss her so badly.To pull her against me and breathe in her floral perfume, thread my fingers through her soft red hair and let every man around us know she was with me.
Instead, I had to glance away as if I couldn’t give a damn and nod.“Great.I’ll be in touch when we’re ready to take the next steps.”
Her sweet smile didn’t hide the flicker of something akin to hurt within her eyes.But what could I say?What can I say to anyone?I trust my friends with my life, but I can’t talk to them—it’s too risky.
Every damn day I wonder how she is.Every single day.Multiple times a day.I’ve nearly driven over there, called her, messaged her.I can’t.
If I did, I wouldn’t be able to write off our night together as a single moment of weakness.
Just lust.
Nothing more.But that’s exactly what I want.More.So much more of her.
Why?I never date.I don’t have any desire to commit, and I hate women who hunt out rich men.
Despite our discussion, the facts remain: Courtney married a man when she didn’t have more than a dollar to her name.Now she’s divorcing him without any sound reason, claiming she fell out of love with him.
How convenient.
Five billion dollars of convenience.
It makes her the epitome of the type of woman I avoid and dislike.
Unless you’re talking about her curves, all that long red hair and her stunning green eyes.The vulnerability and way she’s like putty in my hands—and mouth—when I fuck her.
Goddamn it.I need to see her.
No, I need a distraction.
I message the guys to see who is available tonight.It’s Friday after all.As I wait, watching a few dots appear in our group chat, I reflect on what Sean and Jason might dig up.
Here’s another question: how do I know he’s been honest with me about his assets?
Let loose, my pretty client would be a firecracker in a courtroom.I wonder what she plans to do with her life.It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought about our next steps, but when she voiced it as I left, I wasn’t sure if I should marry her or fuck her again.
Leaving was the smart thing to do.
And you kissed her goodbye.
Ignoring those thoughts, I focus on our current strategy of learning more about Adam Blackmore.
