“Please. Please, Kendall, let me touch you.”
“No.” I open my mouth and lay it against his neck, tracing my tongue along his shoulder.
“I can’t stand this,” he pants. His teeth snap together. “I need to come. God, I really need it.” His heated, frustrated stare finds me. “I have to touch you.”
“No,” I say, smiling. I sit up a little as I continue to rock against him. “I’m close.”
He watches me, cheeks flushed, pupils blown.
I grind against him. The pleasure builds, and builds, until it shatters.
“Oh, fuck, Grant,” I moan. Starbursts explode behind my eyelids when I close them.
He lets out the sexiest, most tortured sound I’ve ever heard. “Kendall.” His voice nearly cracks when he speaks my name. His knuckles turn white where he squeezes the arm rests of his chair. His hips buck up into mine, like he’s seeking any friction he can get. “This is—I can’t handle this. I’m going to come.”
“You can’t,” I breathe. “We can’t have you doing that in your pants at work.”
“I don’t even care,” he says. He widens his legs under me and his eyes find mine. “But you’re not going to do anything for me, are you?”
I shake my head.
“Damn,” he says. He’s breathing hard and waiting on me to say something, but I’ve got nothing. I just had an orgasm at my place of work, and now I’m going to go curl up in a corner to die.
“Now what?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
He shakes his head. “It’s going to get damn distracting if I don’t take the edge off soon. Everything makes me think of sex.” He laughs, but it’s a strained sound. “I haven’t been this strung out in a long time.”
“You’ll be okay,” I tell him. “You can make it a little longer.”
“Fuuuck,” he says, and it’s so whiny I almost laugh. “How the hell am I supposed to wait?”
“Poor thing,” I say, climbing off him. He’s still hard, his erection tenting his scrub pants. “You’ll figure it out.”
16
KENDALL
“What do you mean someone sent you a check?”
“Well, it’s a money order, not a check,” my mom says. “With a note that it’s for me, from a well-wisher. Plus there’s a bunch of gift cards and somebody delivered groceries. You sure it ain’t you or your brother?”
“I swear,” I tell her. She won’t accept help from me or Blaine; we’ve both tried multiple times. “It doesn’t have a name?”
“Nope. I checked the gift card balances, though. They’re real.” She pauses. “I can’t keep this, anyhow. Altogether it’s five thousand dollars worth of stuff, Kendall. Who do we know with that kind of money to spare?”
My breath freezes. That bastard actually did it.
“You have nowhere to send it back to, Mom. Just keep it. Maybe you can pay it forward someday.”
She scoffs. “Now wouldn’t that be a sight.” I hear scraping noises over the phone, like she’s stirring a pot of something. “If this is some kind of trick you or Blaine are up to?—”
“It’s not, Mom. I promise.”
“Well.” She sighs. “What do I do with all this?”
“You keep it. That’s what you do.”
