Page 37 of Never Too Late

“I know. I can see that.” Given we’d gone off on a slight tangent, I repeated my earlier question. “How are you? Did you talk your client down from the ledge?”

Cillian let out a frustrated sigh. “I think so. Unless he works up a second wind while he’s asleep. It happens sometimes, people agreeing that we’re the experts and putting themselves in our hands, only to take exception if the finished product isn’t what they expected. Common sense goes out of the window and they forget that we’re the people who know how to sell something. I wouldn’t mind if he’d had ideas of his own that we’d ignored, but he didn’t. He was a blank slate.” Cillian seemed to catch himself. “Sorry. I’m probably boring you to tears.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t interested. You look exhausted. Tell me if I’m keeping you up and you just want to go to bed.”

Cillian leaned forward over the desk and shook his head. “No! It’s good to talk to you.” He smiled. “Skype was a good call. It means I can actually see you.”

“I’ve missed you,” I admitted, as surprised by my own words as Cillian seemed to be, if the slight rise of his eyebrows was any indication. “I have,” I said more definitively. “I don’t want you to think that this is some sort of game to me. It isn’t. It never has been. Any defensiveness, any holding back on my part, isjust about protecting myself.”There. Take that, Amrita. I can be vulnerable if I want to be.

“I know.” Cillian’s gaze bored into me for a few seconds. “I miss you too. I wish I was there.”

“What would you do if you were?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Do you really want to know?”

My breath hitched at the implied promise in his eyes, and I considered my answer before responding. “Yeah. I do.”

Chapter Fourteen

Cillian let the silence go on for long enough that the anticipation almost had me crawling out of my skin before he spoke. “I’d drop to my knees in front of your desk and I’d crawl forwards until I was between your thighs. I’d push them farther apart and then I’d undo your zipper with my teeth.”

“With your teeth,” I said, a slight tremor in my voice. “I’m impressed.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

“Then what?”

“I’d pull your trousers down to mid-thigh and bury my face in your groin, so I could feel you getting hard. You’d wriggle on your chair in a desperate plea for me to take your underwear off, but I wouldn’t. Not straightaway.”

“What if I begged?” I asked. “Would you do it then?”

“Try it,” he said, “and we’ll see. You need to undo your trousers first, though.” I stared at him, my sluggish brain taking a moment to get on board with what he was suggesting.

“We don’t have to,” he blurted. “No pressure. I’m happy just to talk.”

“No! I want to. I just…”

“Just what?”

“I’ve never done it,” I admitted.

Cillian smiled. “Neither have I. Why would I when I’m usually in the same city as anyone I might be interested in doing it with? It could be fun, though.”

I reached beneath the desk and undid the button of my trousers, the sound of my zipper as I pulled it down absurdly loud in the silence.

“My teeth,” Cillian reminded me.

Laughing, I lifted up to push my trousers to mid-thigh as Cillian had described, my cock tenting the front of my underwear. “I couldn’t use my teeth. I’m not that flexible.” Arse back on the chair, I parted my thighs.

“Can you feel my hot breath?”

“Yeah.” The funny thing was, I could. It was like Cillian was simultaneously between my legs and on the screen in front of me.

“I’ve found the head of your cock and I’m tonguing you through your underwear. Can you feel it?”

I ran my finger gently over the tip of my cock through the fabric to simulate the movement of Cillian’s tongue. “I can, but it’s not enough.”

“You taste so good.”

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