“Sure. Tell him I’ll call back in five.” He carried on fingering me as he spoke. ‘And can you let Eve Sheldon know I’ll reschedule the meeting Monday?”
“No problem.”
“Thanks, Tobi.” His mouth went straight back to my tits as soon as he stopped talking and another orgasm built.
“Seph, fuck me.” I was needy now, and I would happily beg. The whole situation, the naughtiness of it, the hot man in front of me, feasting, the man who had just stuck up for me and thrown away a huge case because he had morals, made me want to beg,
There was a pop as my nipple left his mouth. “No condom, Georgie. You ready for bare? And a two minute fuck, because I don’t know how long I’ll last.”
“Not on the pill.” Fuck fuck fuck.
He didn’t respond, instead dropping to his knees and pushing my skirt up further, his mouth taking place of where his fingers had been, licking and sucking. I felt the wetness drip down my thighs as I came, clutching his hair.
He held me until I’d stilled and my breathing had levelled, kissing his way back up my body, pulling up my panties and straightening my skirt, kissing a breast and then tenderly on my mouth.
“If you leave first, I can grab a minute to look less,” his eyes dropped to his crotch where he was definitely still hard, “lively.”
“I owe you two orgasms.”
He shook his head. “I win when you have a much higher score.” He kissed me again and I tasted the tang of myself on his lips. “Are we still good for our date tonight.”
“Oh yes. Definitely yes.”
I was hoping there would be a lot of yeses. From both of us.
Seph insistedon meeting me at mine. This made it the third night in a row he’d been at my house; yesterday he’d been round to fix the mural on the wall in Rose’s bedroom.
I was child-free, sister-free – Liv was visiting friends in Manchester for the weekend – and I felt like I had five and a half years ago: young, excited and full of hope.
The walk of shame out of the meeting room had been easy, as most of Callaghan Green had left work with it being a Friday and gone for the customary drinks. No one had really noticed me to see the mussed-up hair I knew I had, or the fact that my lips were swollen. When I caught myself in the mirror I saw someone who looked like they’d just been thoroughly fucked, and even though we hadn’t actually gotten round to that bit yet, I felt slightly smug.
I should’ve questioned myself, berated myself for being foolish, had words with myself about being manhandled by someone who was technically my boss with just a door between us and the rest of the office; but I was no fool and I wasn’t stupid. Anyone who knew we were in there together would’ve assumed we were discussing whatever had caused David Hartford to leave suddenly. And I trusted Seph. I knew he didn’t have a fiancée tucked away somewhere and I knew him well enough to know he wasn’t going to shaft me over. He was a risk I could take.
We were going to a restaurant where I’d eaten a few times with Olivia and Rose, a cute family run Italian place that served amazing wine and even better pasta. It was small and intimate; we wouldn’t feel that anyone was trying to listen in, and the heat and steam made it feel authentic rather than some high end place where you were paying for your face to be seen.
Seph turned up with a bunch of wildflowers that were hand tied, one single rose in the midst of them. His shirt was white linen, standing out against his dark blue jeans and his usual leather jacket. When he saw me, his eyes danced and his smile made everything melt again.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this way, excited without being nervous, desperate to see someone I’d only been with hours before. It felt like a long time ago, certainly not with Rose’s father. Looking back, he’d been more of a convenience fuck. Attractive, intelligent and – so I believed – available. The element of secrecy had been a turn on too, and he’d made me feel grown up, to be having a clandestine office affair. Clearly I’d been a child not to realise what his motivations actually were.
Right now, my thoughts weren’t on my ex; the man in front of me demanded all my attention.
“You look gorgeous. I can’t wait to take your clothes off.” His voice was husky.
The line was cheesy. Dirty. Intended to partially make me laugh but make the rest of his intentions known.
“Thank you and we’ll have to see whether you earn that privilege.” I took the flowers, debated leaving him standing at the door while I put them in water, because letting him enter felt a bit like telling a vampire to come in.
Manners won out.
“I hope you like where we’re going.”
He waited in the hallway while I hollered from the kitchen.
“They serve food. What’s not to like?”
I put the flowers in the sink, grabbed my bag and picked up my keys, not wanting to bother my landlord on a Friday night if I locked myself out, which was entirely possible. It wasn’t that I was scatty or disorganised, I was just busy, and remembering the more complicated things sometimes meant the straightforward aspects – like keys – were forgotten.
“Do you really eatanything?” I’d seen what he put away in a day, and it was a lot. I knew he worked out a lot at the gym, but still, he was constantly hungry.
