If I’m showing anyone my bra, it’s not going to be a boy with no experience. It’s going to be a man who knows his way around a pussy, and I have a feeling that man is Sal.
“I don’t doubt it, Keels.” Sal looks up at me, his smile locked in place while his strained voice gives him away. “Have you ever asked?” His voice lifts at the end and I almost laugh. Is he jealous?
“Maybe.” I shrug noncommittally, and Sal releases a raspy sound from the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt.
“Good.” He recovers, releasing my leg to grab the other, and a beat passes between us. “You deserve to be worshipped.” His eyes rake over me, traveling from my feet to my eyes, and my heart picks up speed. God, I want him to touch me. I want his palms to follow the path his eyes just took, gliding along my skin, his thumbs slipping between my legs as he brushes past.
My legs clench just thinking about it, and Sal curses under his breath.
“What are you doing, Keels?”
“Enjoying my massage. What areyoudoing?”
“Enjoying your massage.”
“What?”
“Jesus. I meant, giving you a massage.”
“Sure you did.” I raise an eyebrow, and Sal huffs before increasing the pressure on my calf, digging his thumb in deeper until I moan again, laying my head back and closing my eyes.
“God, this feels good.”
“Maybe you should spend less time in these heels?”
I should what?My eyes fly open as I lift my head, scowling at him in offense. “Hell, no. My heels are part of my personality. The only time you’ll see me without them is when I’m working out, taking a quick five-minute break, or?—”
“Here?”
Oh, Sal, you walked right into that one.“Having sex.”
“Goddammit. I’m not fucking you on my desk, Keels.”
Sal lets go of my leg, and it naturally falls with my legs spread slightly. I’d normally be quick to be a lady, but when his gaze lowers to my center, I hold back.
“What am I doing?” Sal grates, his expression frantic.
“I don’t know.”
“Then what are you doing?” Sal stands, taking a few steps back as he throws the question my way, and I answer honestly.
“I’m wishing we were back in your apartment.”
“Fuuuck.” He runs a hand through his hair as he turns away, flustered. “Why?”
“Because you didn’t say you wouldn’t fuck me just now. You said you wouldn’t fuck meon your desk. You’re being a gentleman.”
Sal spins back around, his expression pained, a wildfire in his eyes. I open my mouth to apologize until he stalks closer, flattening his palms against the desk as he leans over me. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes.”
He grabs my thigh with his free hand, lifting it to wrap around him. “And this?”
“God, yes.”
He smirks momentarily as though happy he’s affecting me, and I smile back at him until my breath picks up speed and my pulse spikes at having him so close, his eyes so intense. I’m usually the confident one in a relationship, but right now, he has me at his mercy. If he told me to beg, I’d be dropping to my knees to plead so fast he’d get whiplash.
“Christ, Keeley. We can’t.”
