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31
Enzo
It’s been three weeks since Annie secured the tampon deal from Coddle. Surprisingly, Mr. Jacobson did promote her to junior ad exec, which makes me feel a hell of a lot better that she won’t be moving halfway across the country. Though they haven’t found a replacement to act as my assistant yet.
“Don’t you find it funny that not one interviewee has come in? They could get you a temp if they wanted,” Annie says to me while I’m in the bathroom.
I’m thankful I’m not in front of her because my face would give away what I think is happening—they’re purposely dragging their feet. “Did you ask Shelby?”
She blows out a breath so loudly, I hear her over the running water. “Yeah, and she says they’re trying, but your assistant needs certain qualifications.”
I walk back into my bedroom, reluctant to join her. After the way Mr. Jacobson acted in front of the Petersons, I’m surprised we still hold the account. I can’t help but think there must have been signs of his sexist line of thinking before now. Did I just never notice?
“I am hard to please.” I fall into bed next to her.
Lazy Sundays with the two of us in bed until noon are fast becoming my favorite thing. I can’t believe this is what I tried for so many years to avoid.
“I should get going so you can go to dinner.” She picks up her sketchpad and slides her legs over the edge of the bed.
“I canceled. Said I was sick.” I snag her waist and pull her toward me, quickly shifting her so she’s straddling me. I kiss her neck while my hands slide up the hem of her tank top. “I love when you’re not wearing a bra.”
Her arms wrap around my head and her fingers play with the hair at the back of my head. Seriously, I was an idiot. This is so much better than lounging around by myself on Sunday until dinner.
“You’d keep me naked all day if you could.”
I look at her and latch on to a nipple. “You know me so well,” I say against her skin before pulling the fabric over her head.
“We really need to talk about this condom ad, and I think you should go to your family dinner. What will your mom think?” The way her back is arching says she won’t need any convincing to stay where she is.
“First of all, let’s try the condoms out. You know, so we’re better able to write a campaign. Second, my mom thinks I’m sick in bed.” I flip her over and she squeals.
“You’re going to fall off that favorite son list you like to brag about.”
I laugh and busy myself with pulling her shorts down her long, thin legs. Her excuses fall away with a moan as I kiss my way up between her legs.
“It’s my turn,” she says, sliding up on the bed and away from my mouth.
“You’re denying me a taste?”
She giggles, her hand cupping the bulge in my pajama pants. “You’ve had a lot of tastes. I’m simply taking my turn.”
Her palm applies just the right amount of pressure over the thin material. Her eyes are on me while her tongue slides along her lips. I leave one hand behind my head, propping me up enough to watch her, while my dick twitches as she pulls down the front of my pants. Like a spring, my cock pops out.
She wraps her hand around the base and twists up and down, her bare tits running along my balls. Watching this woman tease me is pure ecstasy—she’s amazing and beautiful and intelligent and everything I didn’t know I wanted.
Sure, I’ve had women who want to please, but Annie’s eyes seduce me. She’s searching for the telltale signs that I’m enjoying it, doing everything she’s mentally cataloged over our months together to pull out the reaction she wants.
Like when her tongue first touches the tip of my dick and I squirm.
Or when she slides her tongue around the top like an ice cream cone and my fingers thread through her hair, gripping the strands, anticipating the moment when she deep throats me.
The way she stops blowing me, teasing me while she runs her tits over my dick, her hands sliding across my stomach.
And like now, when she’s found the perfect rhythm and she peeks up to make sure I’m looking at her. I wind her long hair around my fist, securing it out of the way so I have the perfect view of her bobbing up and down my cock.
I swear every blow job before Annie was an act of obligation, but with Annie, I don’t lie back and let her blow me. I’m already imagining the ways to return the pleasure.
Watching my cock fall in and out of her mouth, I don’t direct her. She sets the pace. She fondles my balls when they tighten and the tip of my cock hits the back of her throat, and it’s game over for me.
