26
Tiff
Iwasn’t one to play by the rules most of the time.Rules were usually just arbitrary lines people drew to play it safe or whatever, and I just didn’t want to waste any of my life acting for the sake of pleasing people.
Sam, I’d thought, would be a stickler for the rules (and he certainly had a hard-on for setting them).Especially ones he’d specifically set.The same rules I was abiding by (and that alone deserved a gold star, frankly).
So color me surprised when he asked me into his office one afternoon before opening and said, with utter hunger in his eyes, “Lock the door.”
We had a full team on shift, meaning there were people outside.People he had expressly told me he didn’t want to know about this little tête-à-tête we had going on.
But, fuck me, if I wasn’t immediately turned on by this turn of events.That didn’t mean I was going to fight fair, though.I leaned against the closed door, crossing my arms.“And if I don’t?”
“Then you’ll just haveto stop anyone from coming in.And make sure they don’t hear you.”He stalked over to me and sank to his knees.
Fuck.
Yes.
My hands instinctively slid into his hair, the dark strands fine silk between my fingers, before he reached up and removed them, placing them against the cool surface of the door, with a silent command to leave them there.
It was going to be like that, then.A wave of anticipation flowed through me.
Each button of my jeans was undone slowly, neither of us speaking.My hands flexed against the wood, itching to reach for him.
Patience was not a virtue I’d ever been comfortable with.
Competition, however.Competition could make me very patient indeed.
I just needed to hold out longer than he did.
Which wasn’t easy.Especially when he dragged my jeans and underwear only as far as he needed to get what he wanted, slowly taking me apart with long confident swipes of his tongue.
There wasn’t enough room for him to get too deep, but that didn’t stop him.My jeans dug into my thighs; the material taut as I rocked into his mouth.
My breathing was ragged, my whole body shaking with the strain to keep still, keep quiet.My mouth was clapped shut, even if I was screaming inside my mind.
All I could hear was the indecent sounds of his lips, slick against my skin.Wetness coated the inside of my thighs, and I imagined his face was a mess.
When he snuck a couple of fingers into me, my eyes snapped down to meet his.He looked fucking smug, but, goddamn, had he earned it.My control was hanging on by a thread, and he knew it.
The wood felt rough against my fingers as they scraped against the door, and as I felt myself nearing my peak, my hand reached out for him.When I remembered not to touch, I rushed to slam it back against the door, too far gone to care about the sound.He pushed me over the edge, and I bucked against him, my blood pounding in my ears as I climaxed.
It took a few shaky moments before I came back to my senses, my heart beating high in my chest, rapping solidly against my collarbone.
Soon, my knees buckled, but I didn’t sink down, held in place by my jeans and Sam.I was weak all over, completely wrecked by the mind-blowing orgasm I’d just had.
There was a sheen of sweat along my brow, cooling in the afterglow.My head sagged back against the door, and I turned to find a cool purchase on the wood.
Sam rocked back on his heels and tugged my pants back up.I could see the hard line of his cock straining against his pants, felt it press against me when he stood and kissed me with the same slow strokes of his tongue that he had used to great effect before.Tasting myself on him, I finally succumbed to the need to moan into his mouth, the first sound I’d made in minutes.
Finally recovering the ability to move, I traced the shape of him, but he reached for me, taking my wrist lightly in hand, a gleam in his eyes.“Break’s over,” he said before opening the door.
That.Absolute.Bastard.
The memory of what we’d done played in my mind for the rest of the night, reshaping my image of Sam as the stick in the mud, repressive suit into something compelling.Had I been too quick to judge him in the beginning?
The idea that there was more there called out to me like a moth to a flame.It was probably a good idea to not dig too deep, keep it casual and not get too close.
Too bad I never really liked doing what I “should.”
