Page 70 of Stumped

“Sorry,” I mutter, grip around her loosening, but she doesn’t let go. Her hips rock forward and my eyes roll back in my head at the feeling of her wet, hot heat rubbing against my cock. “Peaches,” I warn softly, but she keeps moving. A few inches and I’ll be inside her. As her hand travels down between our bodies, a phone rings loudly and startles both of us.

“Shit. What’s the time?”

She jumps off my lap, rushing out of the room and I suck in a sharp breath at how turned on I am. The phone continues to blare and I hear her voice as she answers it.

“Yeah, I’ll be on in fifteen minutes. Start the meeting, I need to finish getting ready. Thanks, James.”

When she returns, I’ve got my hand wrapped around the base of my dick and she bites her lip with a whimper. “I can’t.”

“That’s okay.”

“But I really want to.”

I laugh and pull my hand away, draping the sheet over my lap. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathes out and gathers her hair into a messy bun on top of her head. “Need to hop on a work call really quick, then I’m yours.”

“What’s the time?”

“A little after eleven.”

“Why aren’t you at the office?”

She tilts her head as she pulls on a pair of shorts and rips off her T-shirt to put on a bra before tugging the cotton back over her head “I told them I’m working from home today.”

“Why?”

“Because you needed me.”

“Because I…” The words get stuck in my throat as she runs into the bathroom. She comes out and moves around the bedroom like the Tasmanian Devil and I smile to myself.I love you, I think to myself.I would give you the whole fucking world, I add. Standing, I pull her to a stop and hold the back of her head to kiss her. It doesn’t matter that I’m naked and she has to work. All I care about is Vera choosing to work from homefor me.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve so much more,” she reminds me with a poke in the stomach. “Don’t ever forget that.”

Her phone starts ringing again and Vera growls unhappily as she walks out of the room. She rushes back with a soft smile and kisses me again. “Stay in bed a little longer, if you want. I already asked Kuriakose to bring whatever you might need. Just…stay.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good boy.”

Smiling, I stand in the doorway and watch as she opens her laptop and sets up her work station at the dining table. She looks happy—eyes bright and cheeks flushed—and I wonder if she realises being with her makesmehappy. All the thoughts of failure and disappointment take a backseat as I watch the woman I love settle in to rule the world.

Twenty-Three. Fumble

Vera

In the week since his failure meltdown, Elias played two more games and I watched each one with bated breath. It’s not going to be easy, getting over his nerves, but I hope he starts trusting in himself. I floated the idea of therapy, but since I don’t go anymore, it’s a little hypocritical. The difference is, talking to a professional might help Elias deal with what he’s going through. Even if he hates talking about himself. Dragging his worries and fears out takes effort when it’s the two of us, but the conversations that follow are often the deepest and most meaningful.

It’s also helped that our relationship status has changed and he’s feeling more secure in what we are. I didn’t realise it was weighing on him so much until he got back from Hyderabad. I don’t think it was weighing on me much until that night either. We’re in a good place, which is why when I said I was meeting my girlfriends for drinks, he asked to come along. That turned into their partners being invited as well and Tamara bringing her Tinder date, a handsome guy with zero personality.

We’ve been at Bar None—one in a long list of new pubs opening in the last six months—for less than thirty minutes and everyone’s still staring at Elias. He’s squirming in his seat,hand wrapped around the back of my neck to steady himself. I warned him this would happen, because my friends haven’t been aroundfamouspeople before and they clearly don’t know how to behave.

“Will you quit it?” Tamara growls and apologies fly our way between awkward chuckles. My cousin turns to my boyfriend and flashes him her winning smile. “I’m sorry on behalf of these plebeians. We’re usually better behaved than this.”

“You’re good,” he says, fake smile in place. To everyone else, he means it, but IknowElias. He’s tense—back straight, feet flat on the floor, jaw tight—and the grip around my neck pulses depending on how uncomfortable he is. Squeezing his thigh, I offer him a small smile he returns and his eyes clear up.

Dropping my voice to a whisper, I say, “We can leave whenever you want.”

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