Page 74 of Dirty Little Secrets
I snap my head at the clock. He’s fucking early.
“Shit,” I grumble. “It’s Quinton.”
Emery’s eyes widen with intrigue as she glances at the door. “Oh…” She lifts a scheming brow, casting me a cunning smile. “This should be fun.” Before I can protest, she shifts her position, crawling under my waterfall desk, her grip around my cock unyielding. “What’re you waiting for, Damon?” She giggles. “Let him in.”
This woman will be the death of me. What in the actual fuck?!
“You’ll pay for this,” I whisper in a harsh tone, rotating the chair and inching closer to the desk. Her hand tightens around my dick in response. I suppose I’m in no position to make threats. Clearing my throat, I call out, “Come in!”
Quinton swings open the door and glances around my office. After judging my decor choices for an appropriate amount of time, he lets out a condescending whistle.
“Lovely office, Cavanaugh. It’s veryyou.”
“Thanks,” I grumble out, motioning him to sit down.
“It wasn’t a compliment, mate.” Quinton grins as Emery shifts under my feet, restarting her ministrations at a painfully slow pace. “This space is far too dark for my liking. It’s like a dungeon.”
“I’ll pass your feedback along to my interior designer,” I say, keeping my expression flat despite the little slut that’s pressing her tongue against my cock. Jesus Christ! “Let’s get this over and done with, shall we?”
“Why? In a rush to get me out?” Quinton places afunds transfer document on the table, three signature lines tabbed with blue markers. “You really should show me some gratitude, Cavanaugh. If it weren’t for me, you’d most likely be out of a job today.”
“Let’s not pretend you did what you did for my benefit,” I state, scribbling my signature on all three forms as Quinton sits down. “There.” I push back the paper. “We’re done here.”
“Not for your benefit?” Quinton hikes his ankle over his thigh, crossing his arms over his chest and making himself comfortable. He’s not leaving any time soon, is he? “And for whose benefit did I do it for?”
“Even you’re not that stupid, Quinton.” Emery’s hot tongue flicks the tip of my dick, and I grip the pen in my hand. Fucking devil. Clearing my throat, I add, “I’m not in the mood to play games with you today. I trust you can see yourself out.”
Quinton expels an animated sigh. “Not everyone has ulterior motives, Cavanaugh. Do you truly believe I would set aside all our differences and help you because of awoman?”
Emery pulls back, her strokes shorter and moredistracted. And I don’t like it. Not one bit. “Cut the shit, Quinton. We both know that’s the case.” I hate saying it. I hate knowing the truth.
“Or…” Quinton leans over, lowering his voice. “Perhaps the reason I allowed you to stand beside me was purely selfish. Did you think of that? Perhaps I don’t enjoy the media calling me a victim, hmm?”
“Sure—”
“Or…” He gives me a shrewd smirk. “Perhaps my motive was far more sinister than you initially thought. Perhaps,” he cocks his head, “it’s because I want you to be in my debt. Think about it, Cavanaugh. We were at a stalemate not forty-eight hours ago, and now?” He chuckles. “You owe me.”
“Get out,” I grunt, wrapping my hand around the back of Emery’s neck, forcing her to stop her sloppy fucking licks. “Now.”
Quinton clicks his tongue, sighing. “I would, Cavanaugh, but…” His sharp gaze snaps down, and he grins. “I don’t want to miss the show.” My body stiffens, ears burning hot as he raps his knuckles on the side of the desk. “You can come out now, little Emery.”
“Get the fuck out,” I growl, feeling Emery shimmy between my legs. I snap my head down, fuming as I say to her, “Stay there.”
Quinton feigns a frown of disapproval. “How dare you speak to her like a common mutt? She’s a lady, Cavanaugh, not a tramp.” He taps his fingers melodically on the black glass. “Come here, darling. You know I won’t bite.”
“Don’t you dare.”
With a defiant and unabashed expression, Emery crawls out from under me, straightening her blouse as she smiles down at Quinton. “Good afternoon, Doctor.”
“Great afternoon.” He smirks at her, licking his lips. “You look,” he glances at me, disgusting and predatory as he finishes, “messy. So…fucking…messy.” He snaps his attention back to Emery. “Do you like being messy, darling?” He cocks his head. “A little dirty?”
Every single atom in my fucking body bounces with wrath, the need to protect what is rightfully mine. Bastard. Fucking bastard. If he thinks he can?—
“I do,” she whispers in a breathy tone, her chest rising and falling, almost in slow motion. “I like it a lot.”
Rage blinds me and my hearing turns muffled as I’m unable to accept the fact that she’s answering him. In that tone. With that goddamn look in her eyes that makes me want to incinerate every single man on the fucking planet.
Quinton’s tone darkens, a sly smile clipping the corner of his lips as he asks, “Are you wet right now, little Emery?” He pauses, smirking at me. “I think she’s wet, Cavanaugh.”
