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“I have my hands full right now,” he says.
I feel the climax coming, my skirt up to my hips, my bare pussy on display.
“No. Tell him later!” he blurts out, frustrated, and shoves his fingers deeper inside me, making me bite my lip so that I don’t scream.
“Alright, give me a minute.” I feel his mouth on my ear. “I want you to come, kitten. Now. Rub your pussy while I finger you.” He keeps pumping harder. “No, nothing,” he blurts into the phone. “Got distracted…”
I drop the mouse that I’ve been holding like it’s an anchor and start rubbing myself while Archer keeps saying something into the phone that I don’t pay attention to anymore.
I squirm in my seat, my legs shamelessly wide, one over his thigh, dangling on the side. He slides his fingers out just for a moment to push my skirt up all the way to my waist. It gives him a view of my panties, skewed to the side, and my pussy with my fingers on it.
The sight starts a blaze in my body. And when he slides his fingers inside me again, in seconds, I explode, tensing against Archer’s chest, then snap my legs close, trapping his hand between my thighs.
Archer tosses the receiver onto the desk. His fingers stroke my cheek as I try to calm down. “I like when you don’t hold back, kitten. I would love to show you more, but I’m afraid we have to postpone this.”
I want more. So much more. All the things I want to do with him.
This guy is unbelievable.
I slowly rise on weak legs, fix my skirt, and turn to meet Archer’s eyes.
He is up, too, his hand reaching for mine.
“Next time,”—he presses my hand to his hard bulge—“I hope you can give me some insights about your research.”
Yes!
His smiling gaze roams my flushed face. I lick my dry lips but hold back the words.
I start to walk away when he calls my name, making me turn. His face lights up with that familiar shit-grin that I know means something snappy is about to come out of his mouth.
He approaches slowly. “There is a wet spot on the back of your dress. You should probably change. I noticed you like to get things wet.” He smiles, then—Motherfucker!—taps my nose with his forefinger and adds, “Kitten.”
30
ARCHER
The callto the lab was untimely and infuriated me when I found out it was all for nothing.
By then, my kitten ran off, probably to change her dress, and my dick is silently hissing at me in frustration.
What do I do?
I go to the surveillance office, tell one of the guys to take a break, and check out the morning footage from Ayana beach.
Kat said she swims every morning. And here she is, on one of the cameras, in the distance, shedding clothes as she walks across the sandy patch, then runs into the water and dives in.
I can watch her forever.
My phone beeps.
Maddy: Bo is awake. Wondered if you want to come over and see him.
There’s always something.
The text hits me with a wave of unease.
Maddy is twenty-three. Bradford College of New Jersey. Unfinished Master’s of Medicine. Parents—deceased. No surviving siblings.
