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“Yes, Callan. You made me so jealous tonight.” She’s moaning so softly and she looks so heavenly, pleasuring herself. I can practically smell her arousal and I do everything I can not to pull this car over.
I notice her glance out the window and retract a little when she sees us pass a few cars on the highway.
“Callan.” Her tone is low and sultry, but nervous.
“No one can see you, sweetheart. We’re going too fast.” She continues to pleasure herself, relaxing into a motion that I can see creates euphoria within her.
“I want you to go faster, Callan. Please,” she begs and I wish it was me she was saying it to instead of referring to the speed of the car, but I do what she asks.
One forty-five.
I hardly take my eyes off her, darting back and forth between the highway and Sterling. The want to touch her is growing heavy inside of me as she plays with herself, grinding against her hand. She throws her head back, eyes now closing as she sinks into her orgasm.
She cries out with beautiful whimpers and moans. “Oh, God.” She hits her peak and lets out one last breathy groan right as I hit one fifty.
She slides her fingers out of her pussy as she lays back into the seat; I slow the car back down to a comfortable speed. Her breathing is heavy, so is mine. That was so fucking hot. I’ve never seen a woman take herself like that.
I feel her gaze at me through those mesmerizing, dazed blue eyes of hers.
“Did you like that?” I ask her, grabbing the two fingers she just used to get herself off and swipe my tongue across them as I keep my eyes straight ahead. She tastes as sweet as she looks. She nods as she lets out a heavy sigh.
“Take me to your place,” she whispers as she buckles her seat belt back over her lap.
“That was always the plan.”
seventeen
Sterling
Ican’trememberthelast time I felt this good. The adrenaline rush I just had in Callan’s car is something I’ve never experienced in my life. And I’ve never touched myself like that, especially not in front of someone. But I just let my boss watch me as I fingered myself in the passenger seat of his car and I’ve never been more turned on in my life.
We pull into the parking garage and once we’re parked, we walk over to the elevator. I can’t keep it together; I need to be touched by Callan.
He looks calm, his suit tighter on his body than should be allowed. It shows everything. We wait patiently in the elevator as it climbs up the building, the anticipation rising with each floor we pass.
We finally reach his floor, the elevator doors opening slowly. He walks out confidently; he loosens his tie as we walk into his foyer, which only makes the ache in my core stronger. I follow behind in silence. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. I wish I could read his mind right now.
Next thing I know, he’s headed straight to his bedroom. He doesn’t make eye contact, doesn’t even say a word but I follow him anyway.
Before I can even say anything, the door to the bathroom closes behind him and the shower starts running. I knock on the door, but he doesn’t answer.Did I do something wrong?Maybe I misread the signals. Maybe he’s waiting for me to join him? I jiggle the handle, but it’s locked.What kind of game is he playing?
I try to distract myself as I glance around Callan’s bedroom. There isn’t much to see, simply perfect beige walls with perfect black and white cityscapes framed along them. I twiddle my thumbs as I sit at the edge of the bed, adjusting and readjusting my increasingly uncomfortable dress. I expected this dress to already be on the floor by now.
I hear the shower stop running and feel a twinge of nervousness and excitement all at once. But the minutes continue to pass, and I continue to sit in silence, awkward and alone.
I’d prefer to be passing the time on my phone, but it’s almost dead. I don’t feel comfortable rummaging through Callan’s apartment to find a charger, and I’m getting increasingly annoyed by the minute. The time is nearing midnight and the last bus stops running in about thirty minutes. I guess if I miss it, I can walk.
“Callan,” I shout through the door, tired of waiting another second. “Is everything okay?” I wait for a moment but all I get is silence. I knock at the door. “Hey, I think I’m gonna head out now so I can catch the last bus,” I try to hide the disappointment in my voice. But he still doesn’t answer.
I wait for a minute, letting out a frustrated sigh in realization that I am way in over my head here. Confusion runs through my mind like a plague, wondering what I possibly could have done wrong.
“I guess I’ll text you when I get home.” I relay before turning on my heel to head toward the front door. I don’t know the protocol for this type of thing…being taken to a guy’s house but then being stood up immediately? I stop myself from hitting the elevator button, hoping if I give it one more minute, he’ll be on his way out to stop me. Maybe he couldn’t hear me, maybe he just wanted a shower before we did anything. I don’t know why I get my hopes up though, so I press the button in defeat.
I step into the elevator, barefoot and holding my high heels in one hand, my dead cellphone in the other. As the doors are about to close, a hand reaches in abruptly to stop them. I look up to see Callan in sweats and a t-shirt, hair still dripping with water. I blink in anticipation, hoping all of this was a misunderstanding. I’m embarrassed to admit it to myself, but beyond my frustration, I’m still aching for him. And him standing in front of me fresh out the showerreallydoesn’t help.
“We can’t do this,” he says, motioning me back inside. Part of me wants to stay in the elevator and press the button to force-close the doors. But the other part of me is weaker and pulls me back into the dimly lit entryway. People always talk about it in the movies, but I’ve never been so torn between my head and my heart.
He senses my confusion, as he lets out a husky sigh. “Say something,” he encourages, but I don’t know what he wants me to say. “I’m not a good man, Sterling. I would destroy your life if I let this go as far as I’d want it. I just-” He cuts himself off as he walks deeper into his living room, running his hands through his hair.
