Page 83 of Five
“It would be hell not feeling this smooth skin under my fingers, your lips sucking mine, your hole opening around my cock.”
Ha…Fuck.
His hands on my face and on my thigh burn. I can’t move my eyes from his. He has me in a thrall. I get lost in those silver orbs. My lips find his palm where the small cuts from the broken glass are almost healed, and then over his wrist to the number five that those sadistic scientists burned into his skin.
“Say my name,” he whispers darkly.
“G—Bez.”
He smirks, and then he kisses me—omph—so deep and passionate, I don’t know whose air I’m breathing. Am I breathing? What the fuck is this?
Our mouths part, but my endorphin-saturated brain needs several seconds before turning back on. I become aware of a noise, a rustling sound. He’s fixing his clothes, pulling down his sleeves, and zipping up his pants.
I slide down the desk, get rid of my ruined jockstrap, tossing it into the wastebasket, and go pick up my shorts from the floor. My fingers itch to reach out to him, the gut-deep craving I have for him is worrisome. It got worse after he confessed to me about his multiplicity. But I’m not going to touch that with a ten-foot pole, or him at the moment.
The poised way he holds himself now, with such grace and solemnity, indicates that Gabe is back. Bez looks more at ease inhis skin, confident and predatory. I can recall more differences now, if I think about it.
Wanting to fuck with him a bit, I bend down to retrieve the files and pens we dropped from the desk to the floor, being sure to put on display my cum-covered, amazingly shaped tushy. The air turns still, and when I look back to check on him, keeping my obscene position, his eyes are laser-focused on my arse.
“Be ready at five,” Gabe says hoarsely. He takes a step toward me, but then stops and clinches his beautifully-shaped hands. So stubborn. So controlled. So damn sexy.
I straighten up.
“For?” I ask, sashaying my way to his private, giant bathroom to clean myself. I’m never going to use the floor restroom again.
“We need to do some shopping.”
I turn off the water and dry my hands. The shorts are back on when his words register. “Shopping?” I stop checking my makeup in the huge mirror, baffled by his response. He already bought me loads of stuff.
“Don’t like to repeat myself,” he says haughtily. When I leave the bathroom, he’s finishing fixing his desk.
“Why? It’s fun. You are an arse, Gabe. You’re an arse, Gabe. You’re an arse, Gabe. See?”
His head snaps my way, and with two strides, he’s on me. His hand grabs my nape, pulling me on my tiptoes, and his mouth forces a dominating kiss on mine. It’s rough, and so fast, I have no time to enjoy it fully or to give him hell—with my lips and teeth.
“Be ready.” His voice is warm on my lips and filled with command, it starts a shiver down my spine. My sleeping cock is dead to the world, though.
“Like bloody Pretty Woman,” I comment sassily. He raises a brow at me and then sits behind his desk.
“You still didn’t tell me the reason of my transfer.” I anchor my platformed feet on the floor, parting my legs slightly and crossing my arms on my chest, telling him with my eyes that I won’t leave unless I get an answer.
He laces his hands under his chin, elbows on the desk. “I followed your cases while you were away. You did an excellent job helping the associates. All the clients were very satisfied by the consideration and time you granted them. The pro bono cases you took on were tricky, especially the break-in in that nursing home. But you found a way. I’m impressed.”
His praise leaves me once again speechless, which annoys me to no end. Is he a vampire feeding on my cognitive communication?With every kiss, he sucks some of my sassiness away.
“That’s why I decided to let you work directly with me.” And keep me in line. His choice of wording surprises me once again though. He said workingwithhim notforhim.
“You’ll choose the pro bono cases and have carte blanche unless you need me, and also help me with the rest of the cases. You’ll leave two hours earlier to go back home and study for your law degree. I could put a good word in with the dean at the Chicago-Kent College of Law.”
I don’t particularly like assisting my arse off for most of the associates, the pompous, arrogant pricks. Would it be different with Gabe?
“I…” I clear my throat, trying to understand once again what his motivation is. Nothing in life is free. “Are you doing this because we’re having sex?”
“Do you really think that little of me?”
I shake my head, and with a smirk, I say, “Nothing is little about you, Mr. Reed.”
That little twitch is back on his lips, but no smile appears.
