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“Reece,” I say, my lips feel dry and I lick them.
His eyes narrow at the motion. “I should go, Luc. I can’t be here when you’re dressed like that. You sitting up there like that. Your T-shirt is practically see through and your nipples are making me crazy. Your shorts are hugging you like they’re fucking painted on,” he growls as he takes a step toward me.
I look down at myself. My shorts are very short. Apparently my “made up” mind has lost control of my body because just as I think to myself that I should go and change—my legs open, wide. I let him see my denim covered crotch and he takes another step toward me. I can feel my panties getting damp as the need to be touched swamps me.
“Lucía,” Reese mumbles, a low warning.
“Yes, Reece?” I trail my hands up my sides and then run my hands over my nipples. They respond to my touch and I feel them stiffen under my palm.
“What’re you doing?” he asks me, quietly, his eyes glittering as they follow the path of my hands.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. I am just letting my body do what it will. I want him to look at me. I need him to see me.
He steps between my open thighs.
“Lucía, I’m going leave. I have a meeting and then I need to spend tonight preparing for tomorrow.” But as he says this, his hand trails down the center of my chest, and spreads out over my abdomen. His touch is like a brand, even as he lifts it from my body, I still feel it.
My breath hitches, as the tips of his fingers brush the underside of my breasts. His eyes never leave mine. He looks like he wants to eat me alive. I lick my lips and his eyes dart there and then back to my eyes.
“I want to get through that meeting tomorrow and then I want us to figure out what we’re doing about . . . us.”
He whispers the last word, he unbuttons my shorts and slips a hand inside. I watch his eyes narrow just as his fingers breach my underwear and he feels how wet I am. He trails the pads of his middle and index finger across the lips of my pussy and I tilt my hips forward to increase the pressure. It’s an instinct because like sheets of loose leaf paper in a stiff breeze, my wits have scattered. All that remains is how this feels.
“So sweet. I want to fuck you. So badly.” He brings his mouth close to mine so that as he speaks our lips brush. “I can’t think straight.”
I spread my legs even farther and he slips one of his big fingers inside me. The sensation of his finger filling me is unreal. I didn’t know anything could feel so good. My muscles contract gripping his finger tightly. I whimper and lean back as he starts to pump in and out of me. He drops his head and bites my nipple through my T-shirt.
My arms are around his shoulders and my ass slides on the counter with every thrust of his finger and when he presses his thumb to my clit, I scream.
He starts to rub me and sucks my nipple hard before he brings his face back up to mine and brings our lips to almost touching again.
He adds another finger and slows down his thumb’s assault. I feel the spark of an orgasm starting to build somewhere inside of me.
“I can feel you, baby. Your cunt is squeezing my fingers. God, I wish it was my cock,” Reece mumbles against my mouth, our gazes still locked.
I feel helpless and ravaged. His fingers’ manipulation of my body takes m
e from breathing hard to moaning to whimpering to shuddering as my orgasm rolls over me.
Reece watches me, mumbling against my mouth, the heat of his breath mingling with mine every time I open my mouth to release a sound. It’s like he’s feasting on my pleasure, absorbing my need.
He pulls his fingers out of me. He trails them over his lips, and then kisses me lightly.
Reece lifts me off the counter and onto my feet. I’m disoriented and so completely aroused that it takes me a moment to register that he’s leaving. I just blink up at him, trying to get my bearings.
He licks his lips. A slow smile spreading when he sees the flush of heat spread all over my body.
“I’m going to leave now. Make sure you bring your A-game tomorrow, Fifty-five.” And then, he’s gone.
Just as I’m settling down to read again, I pick up my phone and send Reece a text.
Stop calling me that.
24
Reece
“So, what’s the verdict?” I ask the heads of my various departments after Lucía and her team have left. They just finished pitching their script, presenting their story and giving updates on their timeline. I think they knocked it out of the park. They’re seventy percent done with the screenplay and anticipate that they’ll completely finish in less than three weeks. The story arc is fantastic. They’ve brought the book to life but they’ve added to it and trimmed it to make the story one that can be told well in one hundred and twenty minutes.
