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"You are fucking incredible when you come," he whispered against my neck, his fingers trailing down my spine, bringing a wave of goosebumps in its wake.
He pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead before dropping his lips to mine and gently easing his fingers from me.
His breathing was just as frenzied as mine was. Slowly we came down from the illicit fevered high together. And with the come down came the clarity of mind. I had just let my boss finger fuck me in a dressing room mid-mission.
Gabe
In the world of intelligence, there were fuckups. They were the kind of shit that lost you your job. There were also the kind of fuckups that were morally reprehensible, the kind that got people killed. And then there were those kinds of fuckups that no one talked about.
The kind that would strip your soul bare. The kind that left a wake of devastation so brutal that nothing could survive it.
That was the level of fuckup I was dealing with today.
I returned to the Rogues campus ahead of Tabatha. She had agents following her, so she had help, but I had to get as far away from her as possible. What I'd done in that dressing room, the line I had crossed, there was no going back.
The cat was out of the bag, and any attempts to put it back in would end up with serious consequences. I had fucked up, period. It was made worse by the fact that there was no escaping it. The entire drive back, I could smell her rose and vanilla scent. It wrapped itself around me, choking me, reminding me what an arse I had been. Hell, I couldn't even explain under torture what the fuck happened. I'd gone to give her intel, check on her, make sure she was solid, which was perfectly normal. And then, well, I didn't know.
She was looking at me with her large, beautiful eyes, framed by those thick lashes, and I suddenly didn't want her to go back to the mission. I wanted my hands all over her, I wanted my lips on hers. I didn't want her to kiss him. In fact, what I wanted to do was rewrite history.
I slapped my hand on the steering wheel of my Range Rover. Saff had made me switch to electric, much better for the environment, but I still liked the bigger utility vehicle. I slid into my slot easily at the private parking lot closest to the back of the manor where the offices were located. Thoughts of Tabatha followed me, clinging to me, making my cock twitch and throb in that angry, belligerent way he'd been doing since I’d touched her and felt the silken heat of her pussy on my fingers and popped those nipples, the color of red sugar apples, into my mouth.
Just as sweet too. My mouth watered, thinking about it. And my cock, that motherfucker, he was pissed, and he was going to stay pissed. Excellent. Fucking hell. I was going to grab a cold shower, then meet with Saff and the other senior agents. We needed to plan our mission to search the Tates’ summer house. The information we were looking for would be there. But I had bloody fucked up. Considering the storm we were in the middle of, we didn't have time for that, and it could end both our careers. Not to mention the fact that being with me put a target on her back.
Go ahead, see if you can put the genie back in the bottle.
My cock jerked as if to say good luck with that. Stalking through the back offices, I tried to make it to the main part of the house without interruption. All I had to do was get upstairs to my room, shower, change, and get back down to work. Just a cold shower and this would be over. But just as I hit the threshold of the main door, someone called me.
"Gabe."
I whirled around. "What?" The bite of the word sliced through the air.
Rook stopped short. "Sorry to interrupt. But I have that data you were looking for. It's right here."
He handed me an envelope, and I knew inside I was going to find information I needed. The question was, what was more important right now, a shower, or what was in this folder? "Thanks."
He nodded and narrowed his gaze on me. Sometimes the kid was too perceptive for his own good. With that, he turned and stalked off.
Fuck this. Shower first. Information later. I just needed ten minutes and I’d be able to think clearly. Once upstairs, I shrugged off my clothes, desperate to get away from her scent. And then I hopped in the shower before it could even get warm enough. My teeth chattered as I vigorously scrubbed off.
My mistake, though, was running my soapy hand over my cock. Just the once was enough for him to demand a fucking release.
As the water sluiced over my body, slowly heating, I remembered kissing Tabatha in the dressing room and the feel of her warm pussy clenching around my fingers.
My cock begged for attention again. Begged to be let loose.
I growled with frustration. No. I wasn't going to have a wank. I was a goddamned adult. I could control this.
Except, I couldn't.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I bit the inside of my cheek before giving in, wrapping a hand around my hard cock thinking of Tabatha on her knees before me, taking me in her mouth. The sensation of her hot tight wetness wrapped around my length drove me crazy. I squeezed tightly at the base of my cock how I liked it, imagining her long tongue laving the underside of my cock before lapping up the bead of precum on my head.
My head dropped back and a groan left my lips as I imagined her hot breath against my skin as she licked and sucked at me, her tongue dancing in just the right way to send shocks of pleasure through my entire body. I imagined her deep, throaty moans as she sucked me off, taking me inch by inch, all nine inches of me disappearing into her mouth.
I shivered as pleasure coursed through my veins and I let my hand slide faster up and down that hardened length, rubbing the sensitive head. I was lost now. Lost to the fantasy, any semblance of desire to put the cat back in the bag now gone. Fuck control. I needed this fantasy. Needed dream Tabatha. Since I couldn't have the real thing.
Dream Tabatha took my hands, sliding them into her hair, encouraging me to fist her red curls tight, to use her for my own pleasure.
