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“Wait…” I managed. “Wait…”
“For?” he asked, adding a second finger, making me cry out in pleasure. “Wait for what?”
I couldn’t answer if I tried.
Keeping his eyes locked on mine, he moved his fingers in and out of me, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, using his other hand to caress my breasts.
“No …” I breathed, feeling his cock harden against my thigh. “No…”
“Good.” He continued kissing the hell out of me, taming my tongue with his, preventing me from interrupting our kiss with words again.
I could only moan in pleasure, could only accept everything he was giving me without question.
My legs began shaking as he put more pressure against my clit, as his fingers deftly worked deeper inside of me.
Before I could tell him that I was about to come, I cried out—muffling my screams into his shoulder.
He held me steady for what felt like forever, not letting me go until my breathing returned to normal.
When he was sure, he stepped back and looked at the hole he’d ripped in my leggings. Instead of apologizing, he ripped them all the way off my body and smiled.
Then he tilted my chin up and looked into my eyes. “Are you still thinking about your ex-best friend, your ex-boyfriend, and being one hour behind?”
“No …”
“Good.” He smiled and pressed another kiss on my lips. “Call me if you need me to come and help you forget all over again.”
HALF AN HOUR PAST MIDNIGHT, I handed my ex-bestie the final receipt for services rendered without a single word, sent a “Thank you all so much!” email to my staff, and packed up my supplies.
The moment I placed the last box onto my passenger seat and slid behind the wheel, I felt my eyelids drooping.
Determined to make it home, I managed to drive three blocks before pulling to the side of the road.
I pulled out my phone and called Amy.
No answer. She sent me two texts instead.
Amy: Sorry! Working late tonight! Looking forward to you telling me the whole story over breakfast tomorrow! (Can you make me some chocolate “I love my sister” pancakes?)
Amy: Wait…Did you and the officer have sex when you got off tonight? Did he go down on you??!!! (TELL MEEEEE)
I was too exhausted to laugh. I scrolled down to my best employee’s name and shook my head. She’d already worked twenty hours overtime this week and asking her to help me get home might result in two weeks’ notice.
I scrolled down to Nathan’s name, staring at it for a few seconds before calling.
“Yes?” he answered on the first ring. “Are you feeling stressed again?”
“No, the party just ended.”
“How’d it go?”
“It went well.”
“As talkative as you are, surely you can elaborate a bit better than that.”
I smiled and leaned against my window, telling him about everything I’d made and how the guests responded. I was in the middle of explaining my cinnamon tarts when I realized I was talking to him as if he was one of my closest friends.
He asked me a few more questions, sounding like he was intrigued, and I almost forgot why I called him in the first place.
“Are you heading home now?” he asked.
“No, I um …” I sighed. “I know this may be a bit much to ask, but I was calling to see if you could drive me home. I don’t think I’ll be able to drive thirty minutes without falling asleep at the wheel, and I’d rather leave my car here overnight than risk that.”
“Hmmm.”
“If not, I understand. Just thought I’d ask before hailing a cab or taking a few trolleys.”
“Where are you?”
“At the corner of Main and Sixth.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Thank you.” I ended the call and turned up the heat, trying my best to keep my eyes open.
Minutes later, I heard a light tapping against my window. When I looked over, I saw that it wasn’t Nathan standing outside. It was a female police officer.
Confused, I rolled down my window. “Yes, Officer?”
“I’m Officer Harlow.” She smiled. “I’m supposed to drive your car to your home address, so leave the keys in the ignition and step out, please.”
Too tired to ask any questions, I unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped outside. I looked behind my car and saw Nathan walking toward me.
“Thank you, Officer Harlow,” he said to her, slipping his arm around my waist. He muttered something that sounded like, “Sexy as hell,” and my knees went weak at the thought of him kissing me again.
He led me to his car, opening the passenger door.
“Wait,” I said. “I want to warn you that my sarcasm doesn’t work as well when I’m tired. I also wanted to say thank you, again.”
“You’re welcome. Get into the car.”
“I also want you to know that I’m not inviting you into my house just because you’re taking me home. I don’t want you getting your hopes up.”
