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She attempted to casually drop the pen. “I’d be more than happy to, if it meant this could be over faster.”
Signing four copies of the separation papers with Demetri’s pen, Stacy sighed. She was one step closer to being free from her ex. She handed him the papers back and sighed. “Take off your shirt,” she told him after a few minutes of looking around the room in an attempt to find something—anything—to cover herself with.
“Why?”
“Because you destroyed my clothes, you punk. I am not leaving this building naked, and I don’t want to find out what happens if I run into an incubus or succubus while I’m so exposed. Nor do I want to run into Marix. I figure the least you can do for completely destroying my clothes is give me your shirt to cover myself with.”
Laughing, he stepped back between her legs as his fingers nimbly worked on the buttons. He was on the third one when there was a knock on the door.
Stacy blushed and kept her mouth shut tightly. Demetri’s laughter grew stronger as he yelled “Come in.”
Thankfully it was Tina’s head that popped inside the door. “Good, you’re done. Here, I was told you might need these.” Tina’s head disappeared and her arm appeared in the opening. “I keep a spare set of clothes here just in case of an emergency. Guess it’s a good thing I do, huh?”
Stacy wasn’t sure if she should be laughing or crying. Two people had walked in on her, while she was naked—at work!—and all she wanted was to have Demetri between her legs again. Instead, he was being a gentleman, and after tucking himself back into his pants, he retrieved the clothes Tina was holding inside the room. She wanted him to continue removing his shirt, to let her see his wonderful chest. She wanted to bite him as hard as he’d bitten her. She wanted to mark him as he had her. She wanted to wake up next to him again.
“I guess this means you don’t need my shirt anymore.” He didn’t fix it as he continued toward her.
In an attempt to look at anything other than his chest, she looked at the clothes he was holding. She wished she hadn’t done that as she stared at the miniscule skirt he was holding out for her.
“What’s that?”
“The clothes Tina brought for you.” He was smiling. Why was he smiling?
“You could at least look guilty about shredding my clothes.”
“Why?”
“Because...because...” She couldn’t actually seem to think of a good reason he should be sorry about it. She really wasn’t, though it had been embarrassing to know her coworkers had seen a side to her she preferred to keep private. “Because those clothes are never going to fit me.” Even she wasn’t convinced by her argument, but she’d had to say something.
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
As he approached her, Stacy could feel her hunger building again. What was it about the man that made her feel like she was starving—and she didn’t mean for food.
She tried to shrug out of the ruined clothes, but he stopped her.
“Allow me. It is my fault after all.” Despite his words, he looked as though he was enjoying every minute of his ‘penance’.
Demetri pushed her ripped shirt off, followed by the torn bra. His eyes—and hands—let her know he would rather let her linger like that, but he pulled the top Tina had loaned Stacy over her head. As he tugged it on her body, she was thankful that it was the kind that had a built-in bra. Unfortunately, it was the wrong size, and her breasts were straining the material.
“It doesn’t fit,” she said trying to adjust her ample flesh in a more comfortable position.
“I think it fits perfectly.” Demetri lowered his head and kissed the ample cleavage the shirt did not cover. His tongue traced the swells, then he lifted his head.
How could she contradict his argument? Now she wished more of her clothes fit her the way this did. Perhaps she should go shopping again...
A question popped into her mind before she could push it away. Would he always worship her that way, or would he soon grow used to seeing it and stop caring that she showed her body off for him?
Shaking her head she tried to stop thinking of him as her boyfriend. He wasn’t. He was just her lawyer. Nothing else. Except her occasional lover. And did it really matter that occasional had become two nights in a row? Or that he’d given her more pleasure—she’d experienced more orgasms with him in this brief time than she had in years.
“You need to stand up so I can help you with the skirt,” he whispered in her ear.
She could already see the telltale bulge in his trousers. There were so many things she wanted to do, to try. But now was not the time. And how could she convince him she didn’t want a relationship with him if she couldn’t even seem to control herself around him? Or if she was constantly asking him to spend the night with her.
Standing, her breath caught in her throat when Demetri lowered himself to his knees in front of her. He finished ripping the pants off of her, then placed an all too brief kiss on her bare sex. His tongue teased her clit before he pulled away. Slowly, with her help, he got her into the skirt, then took his time pulling it up her legs.
Stacy knew he could smell her
arousal. He knew what he was doing to her. But he never touched her. To her dismay, his fingers never slipped or strayed from their task. When she was dressed, she looked down at herself. The skirt fit her well even if it was too short, but the top was obviously not hers. And it showed off the newest dark hickey he’d put on her. If the shirt showed off the ones she could see, she was positive it also revealed his other ‘love bites’.
