Page 24 of The First Deal

“Not one bit.” Shane’s jaw clenched the muscle flexing. “But I have personal reasons to dislike him. In here, I have to act professionally, so I put that aside.”

I wanted to ask what it was that made him dislike the guy, but the look in his eye wasn’t one that seemed happy to share. He looked like the last thing he even wanted to do was think about Leo Birch, but he had to.

“I need to go into the next room.” Shane pointed to the glass wall that partitioned the studio, mixing decks on the other side and huge, leather, spinning chairs. “Join me?”

“Sure thing, Rex,” I teased, attempting to keep the mood light, or lighter than it currently felt.

He swatted my ass as I passed him, and I giggled as I ran to the next door along, guessing that it was the right one—logically, it had to be.

Inside, Shane sat in one of the chairs, then pulled out his phone, tapped away for less than thirty seconds, and then pulled my chair closer to his. He jabbed a few buttons and music filled the space around us. It was a nice song, but… He was right, Leo wasn’t giving them much. In fact, it sounded like the guy was giving up, half-assing every word that spilled from his pretty, pouty lips. I’d seen the guy, he was gorgeous, and I could understand why girls my age fawned over him, but pretty pouts did nothing for me.

I looked at Shane’s lips as he listened to the music. They weren’t small, but they weren’t too big either. They were soft, aged, with lines around them that showed his humour. Shane laughed a lot. He smiled even more. And in his lips, I saw decades of his life. So many ups, so few downs.

He wet them as his head tilted to one side, and the way his tongue swept across them sent a tingle between my thighs.

“Shane,” I whispered his name and his eyes darted to mine, sharp, assessing, searching mine for some answer to a question I couldn’t hear.

He licked his lips again, and I gulped.

“Put that tongue to better use,” I rasped.

His gaze dropped. “Right now?”

“Right now,” I confirmed.

His phone was in his hand again, but he didn’t look at the screen as he tapped. Then he was tossing it to the side, reaching for my trousers, and flicking the button open. “These. Off. Now.”

“Yes, Mr Hudson.” I knew what I was doing, and I loved the look he got in his eyes when I said it. It spoke to some part of him that loved himself a little too much. Or maybe just enough. Either way, his confidence was attractive as fuck.

It took me no time to wriggle out of my trousers, the wide legs sliding easily past my black heels. Shane didn’t wait for me to take my underwear off. He was on his knees in a flash, fingers hooking the fabric to one side and plunging his tongue inside me.

He didn’t tease—licking, sucking and nipping as he hoisted my leg over his shoulder. I braced my foot on the mixing deck behind him, then gasped and jolted as a thick finger joined his mouth and my foot slipped, heel catching on a knob on the table and upping the tempo of the music still playing.

I was panting, grabbing the arms of the chair tightly as I felt my orgasm build. Shane was moaning against me as he devoured me. He didn’t hold back, not one fucking bit.

The scratchy stubble of his chin soaked in my arousal grazed my clit as he lifted his head just long enough to lick his lips and say, “Is this what you had in mind?”

“Yes,” I moaned as his fingers curled. “Oh, fuck yes.”

His tongue swept over my clit and just as his face dipped and my orgasm began to ricochet through my body, the door flew open with a loud bang followed by the sound of embarrassed cursing.

“Natha—, sorry, Nate,” Shane exclaimed, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he twisted the chair so that my back was to the door, allowing me a moment to compose myself, and not turn around and murder the man who had just ruined my orgasm.

“Shane. Sorry, I didn’t mean to… I…shit. Sorry Hannah, I thought… aren’t we supposed to be meeting here tonight?” Nate stumbled over his words, sounding mortified and confused.

“Tomorrow,” Shane said, closing his eyes and laughing under his breath. “It was supposed to be tomorrow.”

Adjusting my knickers, I leaned over the side of the chair to see my boss’s ex-lover standing in the doorway, looking like he had just rolled out of bed while he shook his head and muttered to himself. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Shit indeed,” I said flatly.

It wasn’t that I hated Nate. I didn’t. I didn’t like what he had done, how he had behaved, but he wasn’t mine to hate, so until Juno told me that she wished she’d never met him, I would remain indifferent towards him.

For now, she was just trying to act like she wasn’t hurting. I hoped that one day she’d admit how much what he had done had affected her, and allow me, or someone else close enough, to help her heal.

Shane blew his cheeks out, glancing between us awkwardly. His fingers—still soaked—drew circles on my bare thigh, and I smiled down at him just as Nate spoke up.

“I’ll go. Same time tomorrow though, right?” he asked Shane.

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