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“Hey,” he whispers against my mouth.
“Hi,” I tell him with a smile before deepening the kiss. “Thank you.”
He chuckles, but he doesn’t give me hell for showing gratitude for good sex. Maybe he’s feeling it, too.
His hands trace the curve of my hip after he pulls out and we face each other. I try not to smile like an idiot at the fact that he doesn’t immediately just pop out of bed and run away.
“Oh!” he says his eyes going wide. “I almost forgot.”
In the next second, I’m on my back, legs over his shoulders, and his mouth on me. My fingers are digging into his scalp, my pussy incredibly sensitive as his mouth tastes me. He doesn’t torture me long, and he’s smiling as he lifts his head, eyes shining.
“Just what I thought, fucking delicious.” He nips the inside of my thigh before crawling out of the bed.
He’s gone maybe a few minutes, and I give him the privacy everyone deserves after great sex before he returns with a washcloth. He doesn’t toss it, hitting me in the face with it this time. He crawls up the bed, spreads me wide and wipes me with the warm cloth. I’ve fucked this man three times, let him come down my throat, orgasmed on his mouth more than once, and I’ve never wanted to cover my eyes until this moment. It’s more intimate than anything else we’ve ever done.
He kisses the inside of my thigh before carrying the washcloth back to the bathroom.
I feel the need to cover myself when he walks back out into the bedroom.
He doesn’t crawl back into bed with me. We both know what this is, but he keeps his eyes locked on me as he dresses. He doesn’t hide the fact that he wants me, his cock still half erect as he pulls his clothes on.
“The car will be here in the morning to take you to the airport,” he says as he sits on the end of the bed to tug on socks and shoes.
“Okay,” I answer.
He stands, the night over, but instead of heading straight to the door, he leans over me, pressing a kiss to my temple.
He nearly straightens completely before bending over once again, sucking a nipple in his mouth, releasing it with a loud pop. Then the man winks at me and leaves.
And like a sex-drunk fool, I do exactly what I told him I wouldn’t do before we came up here tonight. I roll over and bury my nose in the sheets, looking for the scent of his skin.
Chapter 23
Gaige
“We’re doing something wrong,” Leighton mutters as she sinks back into the plush leather of the back seat.
She won’t even look at me after the last meeting. We’ve met with three women already this week, and that makes five total if you count the hacker from Santa Rosa that looked at us like we were aliens.
“We’re not doing anything wrong,” I tell her, my fingers brushing her wrist. “We’re adults having fun.”
Her head snaps in my direction as she jerks her head away.
“I’m not talking about that. Is that all you think about?”
I wink at her, letting her see my eyes travel down her legs. Houston is nearly as warm as California was, and the humidity has made sure Leighton hasn’t covered her legs with anything as ridiculous as pantyhose.
“I’m talking about work, Gaige.”
I back off a few inches. We can talk about work for now if that’s what she needs.
“We’re doing the best we can.”
I’m not surprised by the roll of her eyes. I knew when the words left my mouth how bad they sounded.
“These women aren’t going to be interested.”
I can only listen to her. We’ve had this conversation repeatedly, and she grows more agitated each time we walk out of a meeting with another no.
“They’ve fought the glass ceiling all their lives. They’re not going to roll over. Men coming in wanting to drop them down a couple of levels and hire them isn’t a good thing.”
“BBS isn’t trying to do that.”
“We know that, but that isn’t how they see it.”
I whip my arm out in front of her when the driver has to hit the brakes when another car cuts us off in traffic.
“Sorry,” he apologizes.
I use the opportunity to trace Leighton’s bra line down her blouse before pulling my hand away. We haven’t touched each other since Sunday night. A ridiculous rule she came up with was that while working, we don’t fuck. The weekends are ours to do with what we want, but it’s all business when we’re traveling.
It hasn’t been a total waste. We’ve had dinner together the last two nights since we arrived in Texas, and I swear she masturbated loud enough last night just so I could hear her through the interconnecting door to our rooms. I came in my fist when she moaned my name. We didn’t talk about it this morning.
