Page 68 of Hard to Judge

My brows hike.

“He needs to learn just how practical my headset is.” He stands and rounds his desk. The noticeable bulge in his pants grows bigger by the minute.

I gnaw the inside of my cheek and force my eyes back to his.

When Hailey and Arlo left, we made no parameters for this cluster we find ourselves tangled in. While my body keys into the flirtation Arlo offers, my mind won’t allow me to go there…because parameters. Boundaries are the only thing holding me together.

“Would you like to listen?” he asks Hailey. The corners of his mouth kick up. “Perfect.”

The tip of Arlo’s fingers might as well be a naval ship’s cannon for the level of my attention it snags. I’m one hundred percent missile locked on him.

“On your knees.” The authority in his voice is a whip.

I slip out of the chair and onto my knees. He towers over me, looking perfectly groomed for business in his tailor-made three-piece suit and handcrafted wingtips.

Just like that, I’m hard as stone. To hell with my worries.

“Good boy.” He flicks his cuffs, adjusts his tie, and then unfastens his belt.

“Holy fuck,” I squeak with the little breath I still have inside my burning lungs.

“Holy blow job is more like it.” Slowly, he works his zipper down, down, down. I watch his thick fingers move it tooth by tooth, teasing me. “See, if I was holding a phone, I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

Arlo lets his pants hang open around his hips, reaches inside the waistband of his boxer briefs, and gives his dick a long stroke. My mouth waters. I lick my lips. The sound that comes out of me is pitiful.

“Mmm, Hailey likes it when you whimper.” His stance widens. He pushes his underwear down, revealing a girth that sends tingles through my entire body. The smooth length bobs in front of my face. “I’d prefer to hear you choke on it.”

I lurch forward, ready to do just that.

His free hand tangles in my hair and holds me back. “Not yet.”

The side of his dick smacks my cheek. I whine not because Hailey likes it, but because I feel like I’m being burned alive. Anticipation and desire fuel the flames inside me. It hurts so fucking good.

“She has her legs spread and her hand inside her panties, working her clit to the sounds you’re making.”

“Fuck me.” My head swims, picturing her skirt hiked high and her legs draped over the arms of her chair. “Pinch your nipples,” I snarl through the phone.

Arlo hisses. He squeezes the base. It makes the veins bulge and the tip go red.

“Please, Arlo.” My dick pulses in response. My throat works, thinking of him pushing the tight walls wide.

A sting makes my eyes water as Arlo drags my gaze away from his pretty dick and tilts it to his gaze. A storm brews in the deep sea of his eyes. “You call that begging?”

The shudder that runs through me leaks precum from my tip.

“I’ve wanted to wrap my lips around your cock since the day I barged into your room to turn off that godawful noise you call music. And every fucking day since. I’ve dreamed about what you’ll taste like. I’ve imagined the sounds you’ll make. Every fucking dick I’ve sucked has been in an effort to be good for you. For the one day I never really expected to come. Every single time, I’d close my eyes and pretend it was you.”

A half sob, half moan rattles my chest. “Please, put me out of my fucking misery.”

Arlo’s hand slips out of my hair. His thumb caresses a line from my temple to my jaw. His gaze goes impossibly dark. He wraps his other finger around my chin. “Open for me.”

His voice sounds reedier than normal.

I open wide.

The slick tip maps the edge of my lips. He drags himself over my mouth, time and again, as though stitching every moment into his memory. Fuck knows every touch and tangy note sears into mine.

We both whine and pant. My hands fist at my side.

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