I want his mouth.
I want Brooklyn to take the fucking hint.
"Let me see," she asks, but I tug my shirt down and back away.
I toss the sketchbook on the desk and slide open the back room door.
"I think something's broken," I say, stepping inside.
I don't hear Tek moving, but he doesn't have an option in this.
Slapping my hands on either side of the door frame, I stick my head out. "The autoclave isn't cycling properly. I need you to look at itnow."
Rolling his chair back, Tek takes off his gloves and stands. He says something to Brooklyn, but I don't hear it. Then he walks to the back of the staff room, and I close the door behind him.
Istare down at the autoclave.
“Is it even on?” I ask, looking back to where it’s plugged into the wall. I press one of the buttons, and it beeps just like it’s meant to. I open the door, but there’s not enough in there to run a cycle anyway. “What the hell, Carey?”
“Get on your knees.”
I whip my head around, but he’s not even looking at me. He’s casually glancing down as he undoes his pants.
The oversized denim falls around his ankles, and he reaches inside his underwear to pull out his dick.
Not hard yet, he starts pumping.
My mouth waters instantly, like I’m a fucking dog.
My tongue rubs against my palette.
I drag my palms down the front of my shirt.
“We can’t,” I breathe out, but who the fuck am I kidding.
With his chin still bowed, Carey lifts his eyes to me, and I fall to the floor.
He points to the ground by his feet.
My hands hit the tiles, and I crawl to him, his cock growing bigger with each stroke.
I kneel in front of him.
“Your only rule wasdon’t get caught,” he says, pointing again.
I shuffle closer. “I think you wanna get caught.”
When I’m right where he wants me, Carey waits for me to look up at him again, then drops his dick on my face with a dull thud.
I huff out and swallow down my moan.
My fingernails scrape at my jeans.
“I think you do, too,” he sneers, and I know I’m in trouble.
I knew today was gonna be a shit show.
It wouldn’t have mattered how many times I reassured him that she means nothing to me, I knew that having Brooklyn at my station would do this to him. Part of me wants to say it’s the only immature thing about Carey Novak, but most of me likes it too damn much. It’s the reason I could barely look at him out there. He thought he was keeping himself in check, but his seething was obvious to people three towns over.
