Fuuuuuck.
I edge my way inside through the opening and quietly close the door behind me, locking it. That’s when Casey looksat me, smiling, and I realize I’ve been set up.
I don’t fuckingcare.
So many things click into their rightful places now—Declan’sMa’amsare definitely capitalized when they refer to Casey, and I guess I was wrong when I thought there was nothing going on between them.
Shows how much I know.
Then again, I’ve had a lot on my plate the past two years and not enough brain cells to deal withthat, much less speculation about my best friend’s sex life.
Also speaks to how well both of them have kept it on the down-low, because there’s never been so much as a hint of gossip about them, and I honestly didn’t suspect anything.
I know she works out a few days a week. It shows. Her body trends toward the leaner end of the scale, and at five-five she’s an inch taller than Ellen was. Butshe’s usually wearing heels at the office, so she seems taller. She’s not painfully thin though, and has sweetly soft curves in her ass and thighs that I’ve always appreciated and never thought I’d ever see like this, outside of a bathing suit or workout clothes when she and I exercise together sometimes.
Unable to help myself, I reach down and squeeze my erection through my slacks and boxers,because I’m so hard I’m fuckingaching. Literally nothing, fromthatday until now, has donethisto me. I’ve masturbated, sure, but it was more a mandate from my body than my brain.
My lizard brain.
The sadistic Dom part of me? I honestly thoughtthatwould remain dormant and unsatisfied for the rest of my life.
Declan lets out another needy moan as his fingers tighten around the edge of thedesk. It takes everything I have not to answer with a hungry one of my own. His eyes are closed and his head hangs down, his brain likely deep in subspace.
I’m looking Casey squarely in the eyes as I step forward, toward one of the two chairs usually positioned in front of her desk. She’s moved them tonight, pushed one out of the way and set the other one up for…
Well, what looks like a spectator.
Again, part of me realizes I’ve been set up. She obviously wants to give me this show.
Why?
Fuck if I know, but I can’t stop watching and I’m not stupid enough to question it in this moment.
His body is smooth and firm, slender, hard planes of lean muscle. I know he’s a runner, and it shows. I try to take in everything at once. Her fingers are wrapped around his waist as she pulls him towardher to meet her next thrust, making him moan again and widening her sexy smile.
Making me throb like a motherfucker.
I don’t assume I can touch her or him, but I realize now why she has absolute trust in the boy.
Also, therealreason why she refers to him as “the boy.”
Because he is—herboy.
An aching pang plucks at my soul and I gently close that mental door on thoughts of Ellen right now.
Something in me…needsthis, thismoment.
I’m not going to waste it.
I step around the far side of the chair, which puts me closer to Casey and keeps me out of Declan’s line of sight. I unfasten my belt and slacks as I lower myself into the chair and shove the waistband of my boxers down. I flip my tie back over my shoulder and splay my legs wide. If I’m going to watch this sexy fucking show,by god, I’m going to enjoy the fuck out of it while I do.
If Case’s goal was to focus my mind on something else for a while—mission accomplished.
Doesn’t mean I don’t still hurt, or that I’m not still bleeding inside, but I need a goddamned distraction and this’ll do nicely.
If for no other reason than my mind is quiet and still for the first time sincethatday, blissful silence I never getto enjoy.
Not anymore.
