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I don’t think I’ve ever been this openly sexual with a man before. Certainly not on Facetime. But I do as he says, sliding my fingers between my lips, my tongue fluttering on them.
And he groans again.
“Next time that’ll be my cock.”
“Next time?” I say.
“Yep. I’m flying home tomorrow night.”
I frown. “I thought you had meetings in New York all week.”
“I do. I’ll fly back to New York the next morning.”
I wait for him to laugh. To tell me he’s just kidding. Why the hell would he fly from New York just for one night?
To see me. The thought of it is a thrill I can’t ignore.
And then I remember the stupid submission I need to do. I’m going to have to work on it every evening this week and next if I’m going to finish on time.”
“I can’t,” I say. “I have to do some work.”
He’s holding the phone so I can only see his face. He’s completely composed now. If I didn’t know he just came so hard he covered his stomach, I would barely believe it.
“Are you saying that because you don’t want to see me or because you actually have work to do?” he asks.
“I do want to see you,” I admit. “But I have this stupid submission thing to write. It has to be done by next week. I’m going to be working on it every evening. I’ll have to work on it when we finish watching this episode.”
“Tell me about it,” he says.
“You’d be bored. It’s nothing interesting.”
“Everything you do is interesting to me. So tell me.”
He listens carefully as I explain the plan for regional hubs, and the fact that Michael wants me to write our submission.
“I don’t like that guy,” he says.
I wrinkle my nose. “I know, but hopefully this will get me more exposure. Maybe even a promotion so he’s not my boss anymore.”
He nods. “So it’s important. I understand.”
A mess of emotions wash through me. He knows my job is important to me, and even though I earn a fraction of what he does, and have so much less power, it doesn’t seem to faze him. I like that a lot.
But that respect he has for my work means I’m not going to see him tomorrow. And I’m so disappointed.
“I’ll be to yours by eight,” he says. “We can work on it together. I’ve written more proposals than I care to think about.”
I blink. “You’re still coming?”
He laughs. “I’ve no idea. It depends on how much progress we make on your work. But you’ll be coming. I’ll make sure of that.”
“I didn’t mean that.” I roll my eyes.
“I know.” He smirks. “But I did. Shall we watch the rest of Grey’s now?”
“Um, yeah,” I say, my heart hammering against my rib cage.
He’s flying back to see me. And I’m stupidly excited about that.
