by Aimie Grey
My muscle memory faltered, causing my usually deft fingers to briefly fumble with the clasp behind her back. The momentary frustration was quickly forgotten as I peeled the lace away from her body, revealing her full, supple breasts.
Falling to my knees, I leaned in close and inhaled the scent of the sexiest woman I’d ever known, committing it to memory.
When I slowly pulled the panties down her smooth thighs, I expected to find the same twinkling diamonds she’d worn earlier in the day. Instead, I found a small, dangling heart. So fucking hot. But that wasn’t what this was about. I wasn’t going to attack her again.
Which reminded me. “Are you sore?” I placed a chaste kiss over the piercing and then slid my hands up her sides as I stood.
“I forget.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I said, meaning it in more ways than one.
“Just be careful,” she said as she closed her eyes and took a breath. “Please.”
Lifting her into my arms, I carried her to the bed and gently placed her on her back. Taking her bare foot in my hands, I massaged each of them gently, knowing she didn’t allow many people to see her without her shoes. I lightly pressed my lips to her instep and kissed my way up her leg.
With the tip of my tongue, I flicked the little heart, causing her to gasp. Adding a bit more pressure, I continued to lick, and soon she was writhing beneath me. Shifting forward a little, I wrapped my lips around her delicate flesh and sucked on the little heart. With my hand wrapped around my cock, when she came, I followed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Juli
“I want Juli to take me to the talking doctor,” Colton complained.
“When did my son learn to whine?” Thomas grumbled under his breath. “Juli has a lot of work to do,” he added in his full voice so Colton could hear.
“I can help her again.” Spinning in his father’s ergonomic chair, the little dude decided it was my turn to be assaulted with cuteness. “Please, Juli. I’ll help you. I did a good job last time, didn’t I?”
“You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had.” Not a lie since I typically worked alone. Any skills he lacked, which weren’t many, were more than made up for with enthusiasm. With a little training and experience, he could easily take my spot as the most sought after rep in the country before his twenty-fifth birthday. When the time came, we could open our own firm and be unstoppable. Perhaps Colton could figure out a way to get people to stop calling my friends Marinate.
“The work I have to do today is boring. I have to answer questions for an article and make a bunch of phone calls.”
“Oh.” Colton’s face fell. “Is that like taking a test at school?”
“Kind of,” I replied. “It tests how well I know Marina and Tate.” My protégé tilted his head to the side. “Magazines are always asking for an interview,” I explained. “We only agree to a handful of the requests, and most of the time meeting in person or over the phone isn’t an option. When that happens, the writer sends me an email with a list of questions.
“Your Uncle Tate sometimes thinks he’s funnier than he actually is, so I answer all of the questions for them.” Tate once told People he planned to retire and start a second career as an accountant. Maybe he’d handle the books for Colton and my future business. If not, Finn would probably jump at the opportunity. Before meeting him, I’d never seen anyone so in love with numbers. Or maybe he loved money; that would’ve made more sense. “They look over my responses before I send them back.”
“She doesn’t have time to go with us today, buddy.” Turning to Thomas, I could see how helpless he felt. He wanted to make his son happy but didn’t know how. I would say I felt the same, but it would be a lie. I wasn’t helpless. I knew how to make Colton happy. Why didn’t I just agree to go with them to the doctor in the first place? He’d wear me down eventually, anyway.
Wait a minute. When did Thomas start making excuses for me? Didn’t he used to beg alongside Colton?
Maybe he didn’t want me to go with them. I’d always been a little self-centered—okay, a lot self-centered—but who wouldn’t have been if they were as awesome as me? Thinking my presence at a freaking therapy session was vital to the kid, though? That was too much, especially after the various arguments Thomas and I’d had about sticking my nose where it didn’t belong.
The taller of the two nearly identical Ramsays studied me. Did Thomas know me well enough to know what was going through my mind? Surely not. Just because we’d had weird sex a couple of weeks ago—weird was the only word I could come up with to describe it—didn’t mean anything had changed between us. Since then, we’d gone back to our usual hot and dirty fucking.
“Maybe Juli will come with us if we promise to take her home right after. I’m sure she’ll get more work done if we aren’t around to bother her.”
“I thought she lived with us now.”
Woah! When did I start living with them? When was the last time I’d stayed a night at my house? Come to think of it, how did I end up with a desk in Thomas’s home office with my fucking name on it? Literally. Colton had fashioned a nameplate out of cardboard, aluminum foil, and a Sharpie, declaring the workspace was permanently reserved for me. I even had a designated phone charging cable on the kitchen counter, a shelf in the bathroom, and a side of the bed.
The sudden realization of how intertwined my life had become with theirs in two short weeks was way more than I could handle. Panic. I wanted to panic. I wanted to panic and run as far away as I could. If I were the heroine in one of Marina and Tate’s movies, I would have already been halfway to Dallas.
But with two pairs of blue eyes focused on me, one set hopeful and the other somewhat fearful, I couldn’t do it. The weak idiots in the movies weren’t good role models anyway; they always had a change of heart and came back in the end. What I could do, however, was go see a child psychologist and hope some of the therapy rubbed off on me.
My sudden bout of tachycardia made me realize I wasn’t ready for family counseling. Maybe I could be psychoanalyzed telepathically from a safe distance. “How about this, we’ll all go together, and I’ll bring my laptop and work in the waiting room while you talk to the doctor? After that, we can stop by the pizza place you like over on Beverly Drive, and if you promise to be quiet later so I can make my calls, I’ll come back here with you.” Shit. There I go being self-centered again. Thomas had just offered to take me home, and I’d turned around and planned his evening. Was the worry in his eyes because he was afraid I’d stay or afraid I’d leave? Surely it was the latter—who wouldn’t want me around? Just in case, I decided to give him an out. “If your dad is feeling extra noisy,” or extra stupid, “I’ll need to go home.”
“I think we can manage to be quiet while you work,” Thomas said as his eyes warmed. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
*
Balancing my computer on my knees, while sitting in a tiny chair and trying not to flash the dad sitting across from me, who appeared to be dying for a peek, wasn’t the most comfortable position to be in. Taking off my shoes had helped, but not much.
All of the adult seats were taken when we arrived, and no one cared enough to offer me theirs. The women all looked at me as if I was the head cheerleader and they were the band geeks. Like the pervy dad across from me, the men all seemed to be hoping for a peep show.
Yes, I was short, but the only available chair was made for a kindergartner. My other option had been to sit on the floor, which I gladly would have done if not for my shift dress that hit above the knee. I really needed to invest in pants.
Just as I got the hang of two-handed typing without almost knocking the expensive machine off of my lap every time I hit the “enter” key, the door leading to the back offices opened.
A slightly older woman poked her head into the waiting room. “Ms. Griffith?” she asked once she decided I was the most likely candidate.
“Yes?”
“Would you mind com
ing back?”
“Um…” Remembering how much Colton wanted me to come and not wanting to put that sad look on his face again, I agreed. “Sure. Give me a second to pack up.”
I quickly placed my computer back in its bag and tried but failed, based on the salacious grin of the pervert who was still watching me, to stand up while maintaining some sense of modesty.
After slipping on my shoes, I followed the therapist through the door and into the land of mental healing. “Right this way.”
The office felt more like a living room—thankfully, one with full-size furniture. Something, or rather someone, was missing. “Where’s Colton?”
“If it’s all right, I’d like to speak with you alone for a few minutes.”
“Okay.” Although extremely nervous, I took a seat on the brown leather couch.
She assessed me with critical eyes, which freaked me the fuck out. What would happen if she didn’t think it was appropriate for me to spend time with Colton? Would Thomas agree? Of course he would. I sure as hell would. It would kill me, but I would do whatever was best for the kid. That didn’t mean I was going to bend over and take it, though.
“I know I’m not the best role model. I have no experience with kids, I work a lot, I live in a world full of scandals…. I have no idea why Colton likes me so much, but I like him, too. That has to mean something, right?”
“Sometimes kids have a sixth sense about people. It’s as if they can sense the good and bad in them.”
“Are you telling me Colton’s virtue-dar is broken?” Made sense since he grew up with the two-faced woman who was currently depicted in Wikipedia under the entry for “conniving cunt.” I may or may not have known who was responsible for putting her photo there.
Knowing part of him was broken also made me sad. Sad for what Colton had endured and a little sad for myself. I knew I wasn’t good enough—this was one of the only areas of life in which I didn’t excel—but to have a professional tell me to my face sucked ass. However, maybe I pinged the part of his radar designed to detect basic human decency.
“Quite the contrary. I’ve been meeting with Colton three times a week for over a month now,” she said. Colton had started seeing her shortly after he’d been released from the hospital. “He’s a very astute young man. I’ve come to believe that he’s always been wary of his mother on some level and has kept somewhat of an emotional distance from her. As much as a child can, anyway.”
“Wait a minute. Are you supposed to be telling me this? Isn’t this some sort of violation of his privacy?”
“Do you know how many people would be concerned about HIPAA in a similar situation? Virtually none.” Did that mean I was cold? “It goes to show how much you care about both Colton and Thomas. I assure you, both of them have given me permission to speak freely with you. Would you like to see the release Thomas signed?”
“He signed a release form? With my name on it?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling at my disbelief. “He also listed you as Colton’s emergency contact.”
“But what about Thomas’s parents? Wouldn’t they be better suited to deal with emergencies?”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. Staying calm under pressure is in your job description.”
“Don’t you think this is all a little too much, though?” Is it getting hot in here? “I mean, the night I met him, Colton wrapped his arms around me so tightly I thought I would burst, and he hasn’t really let go since. How is that healthy?”
“After living with his mother, knowing deep down she didn’t have good intentions toward him, I’m not surprised he latched on to someone he felt would protect him, whether that feeling was misguided at the time or not. Having his dad vouch for you, when Thomas had never introduced him to another woman, also went a long way toward him feeling safe with you.”
“What can I do to help him?”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing. I don’t know the details of your relationship with Thomas, and I don’t need to know, but if the two of you stop seeing each other, I hope you won’t cut off contact with Colton abruptly.”
“That isn’t up to me.”
“I shared this advice with Thomas at the end of our last session while Colton worked on his homework in the waiting room. He told me my recommendation was moot.” The doctor gave me a small, but seemingly genuine smile.
“But the last time—”
“Thomas was overwhelmed at the hospital and felt like he’d failed his son. He lashed out at you since he couldn’t lash out at himself, and he still feels guilty about it.”
I had no idea what to say, so I didn’t say anything.
“Colton was asking for you. Would you like to come back for the rest of our session? If not, you can work in here where you’ll be more comfortable.”
Once again fighting against my deeply ingrained instincts, I stood and followed her to the office at the other end of the hallway.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Thomas
“I want your ass.” Being unable to touch Juli everywhere at the same time drove me fucking crazy, which made me desperately want to at least know what she felt like everywhere.
Having broken her concentration, she looked up from her task, and with complete sincerity, said, “I really don’t think you do.”
“Trust me, I do.”
“You’ve heard the saying an eye for an eye?” I nodded. “I have a strict ass for an ass policy.” Without another word, she resumed rolling the condom down my cock.
“Wait, what?”
“If you want my ass, you’ve gotta give me yours.”
“Seriously?”
“You’ve never heard of pegging?” Juli asked as she mounted up, taking me deep inside her tight little body.
“Why would anyone—oh, God, that feels incredible—want something shoved up their ass?”
“My point exactly.” Juli was the most sexually adventurous woman I’ve ever been with—hell, it was her idea to fuck on a table in one of my father’s exam rooms—so I was surprised when she didn’t immediately agree. “At least men have a prostate. I’ll introduce you to it someday.”
She rolled her hips, drawing my attention to my favorite part of the day: discovering what she’d chosen to wear. She secretly liked dressing up her pretty pussy for me. Only me. Not that she needed to. I hadn’t seen a repeat for a while, so it was safe to assume her jewelry collection had expanded since we started fucking on a regular basis. If she wore it solely for function, a plain barbell would’ve done the job.
Yesterday, as we sat side by side in a meeting, every time she crossed her legs I knew she was getting herself worked up with the aid of the little butterfly I’d found fluttering around her clit that morning. When the meeting ended, I took a very close second look.
Earlier, with a few helpful touches from me as we drove down the 405, she’d gotten off with the aid of what I could now see was a tiny bow.
She wrapped it up like a present for me.
“This is my new favorite.”
“You say that every day,” she said, breathing heavily and picking up the pace.
Grabbing her hips, I held her still and pounded into her from below. “Gotta hurry,” I somehow managed to say through clenched teeth. “So. Close.”
With a flick of the bow, she came so hard I thought there had been an earthquake, and while in the throes of her own pleasure, her talented pussy sucked my balls dry.
We put ourselves back together quickly, thankful for the many mirrors plastic surgeons kept on hand. “So, what do you think?” I asked rather loudly as we made our way back to the waiting room. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
“It’s the nicest medical office I’ve seen,” Juli replied casually.
“I wasn’t talking about the facilities,” I whispered so only she could hear.
The look on my father’s long-time receptionist, Tara’s, face told me she knew our tour had only consisted of the hallway and one exam room. I’d n
ever fucked anyone in the office before, but my reputation wasn’t too far off the mark. I seemed to be outgrowing it a little more with each passing day, and I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that.
“Where do you want to go for lunch?” I asked, passing the time as we waited to see my dad.
“How about the Mexican place a few blocks from the hotel? I have a craving for enchiladas.”
“Sounds good. I could go for a few tacos.”
“We’ll have to make it quick if we want to have time to fuck again after we finish our errands.”
“You must be trying to kill me.”
Tara’s phone buzzed, saving me from Juli’s response that would have likely made my dick even harder. “You can go back now.”
Taking Juli’s hand, we stepped through the door we’d recently exited, and I led her to my father’s office.
With just one look at us, my dad mock-glared at me and asked, “Which one?”
“Five,” I replied, feeling like a kid caught with his dick in one hand and a dirty magazine in the other. Luckily, the mental porn I’d filmed a few minutes earlier couldn’t be taken away from me like the December ’97 issue of Penthouse, which was still one of my favorites.
Picking up the phone, Dad pressed a button. A moment later, he said, “I need exam room five cleaned. Be very thorough.”
Up until that point, I’d never seen Juli’s cheeks flush without my dick buried inside of her.
Turning his attention back to us, my dad took his first real look at my companion. “Wow, your breasts are spectacular. Who did you use?” he asked, eyes illuminated with awe.
Juli looked to me for help. “Trust me, Dad. They’re real.”
“No way.” He stood and came around the desk to get a closer look while being careful not to physically invade her personal space.
“You should know God is the only artist who can sculpt a better bust than you. Juli’s girls are his finest masterpiece.”