“Hello?” Irritation is ripe in his voice.
I can’t believe Durban answered. “Y-yes?”
My pants pool around my feet, and Durban nudges my feet farther apart. Hot hands land on my bare skin and skim to the front. My eyelids flutter.
“Where the hell are you?” Stanford asks.
Durban’s fingers tighten on my skin and a low growl only I can hear emanates from him. He strokes his finger through my pussy lips and I jerk. I’m so sensitive from last night, but I’m primed for another round.
“I’m...” What was my excuse again? “Billings. I’m in Billings.”
“With who?”
Durban moves my hair to the side with one hand, the fingers of his other hand slicking through my pussy and grazing my clit. I vibrate with need. I rock back, bumping against the hard ridge behind his fly.
What’d Stanford ask? Oh, yes. “Um, a friend.”
“Who do you know in Billings?”
Durban skims his lips over the nape of my neck. “Tell him it’s none of his goddamn business.” He speaks low, but I can’t promise Stanford didn’t hear it. The stress of dealing with Stanford and his controlling ways is no competition against what Durban’s making me feel.
I’ll use it, just like I’m supposed to. “Your message said you wanted to change the...” I bite my lip to keep from groaning. Durban and his wicked finger circle my clit. I’m so fucking wet, a drop runs down my thigh. “The training. You want to change the time?”
The drag of Durban’s zipper is loud in the room, but I can’t summon enough concern about Stanford hearing it.
“Are you alone?” my ex asks.
None of his business. “What time would you like to meet?”
The broad head of Durban’s erection prods against my cunt and I tip forward, giving him more room to work.
“Noon,” Stanford snaps.
I hiss as Durban enters me in one smooth thrust. My body clenches around him, greedy and wanton. “T-tight turnaround.” God, I sound like I’m out for a run.
Or like I’m getting fucking while trying to act professional.
Durban strums my clit while steadily pounding in and out of me. This isn’t some marathon sex session. I’m going to come in record time, and it’ll be while Stanford’s listening if I don’t get him off the phone.
“I can do one.” The last word comes out on a whimper.
“Are you okay?”
“Just getting ready for the day.”
“A bit late in the morning, isn’t it?”
“God, yes.” My cheeks burn. I’m right at the peak.
Durban keeps the pressure on my nub, but he brings me against his chest, with his hand at the base of my neck. “Don’t let him hear you come.” His hot breath tickles my ear, and it’s like there’s a power line between my earlobe and pussy. “That’s for me alone.”
“I’m paying you for a full day,” Stanford insists.
Durban’s grinding into me, his grunts quiet.
“I’m doing my job.” I gasp, fighting to get this last sentence out before I hang up on him. I’m soaked and the suction between our bodies is growing louder. “My contract doesn’t give you access to me for the entiretwenty-four hours of the day. If you’d like more time, you need to talk to January first.”
There’s a sharp inhale.
