“Naomi—”
“You’re not the only one who can be spontaneous,” I say, freeing his cock from his underwear, and taking it into my mouth.
His hands are in my hair immediately. “Fuck.”
I suck him hard, drawing my mouth back slowly before plunging back down again. This angle is easier, and I find I can take him deeper than before. Drawing patterns with my tongue as I move, I touch every part of his cock with my mouth. There’s a bit of lipstick smudged from where I sealed my lips around him, and the sight makes me wet. His fingers tighten in my hair, and I can tell he’s struggling not to move. I take him out of my mouth, running my tongue across the tip. “I have to tell you something,” I say.
“Now?” he asks, and I make him wait, taking the tip of his cock between my lips and grazing him with my teeth. I see his eyelids flutter shut.
“This,” I say, “won’t be the first time I’ve tasted you.” He sucks in a breath, and now he’s staring at me. Oh god, I can't believe I'm going to say this out loud. He’s going to think I’m some sort of deviant.
I lick along his length, enjoying the shudder from him. “When did that happen?” he asks, and I can hear the arousal in his voice. It’s deep and rough and full of sinful promise.
All of the blood in my entire body is in my face. That's how hard I'm blushing. My face is a tomato. "That first day...after you finished and left. You had used my—I was curious, and it just happened."
His cock—already hard—stiffens in front of me. His mouth drops open just a little, and his pupils dilate so his eyes look suddenly dark and hungry. ”That might be the hottest thing I've ever heard."
I duck my head so he can’t see my blushing face as clearly, wetting my lips with my tongue. I place my lips at the base of his cock, sucking along his skin to the tip and back down the other side. I suck him in long and deep, moving up and down his shaft, working up the courage for my last mortifying and arousing admission.
Looking up at him, I say, “I want to taste you again.”
His cock twitches against my mouth, and the sound he makes is nearly feral. I think about that day in the coffee room, how he talked about fucking my mouth. This is his chance.
I put my hands on his hips and pull him toward me, forcing him to thrust between my lips. He takes the hint. Holding my head still with his hands, Andrew pushes his cock into my mouth. Slowly at first, then faster. I lock my mouth around him, relaxing my throat and sucking as hard as I can with his movement. I glance upward and see Andrew’s eyes are closed, his lips slightly parted, completely lost in the moment. Deep satisfaction and pleasure spreads through me at the sight.
Andrew is pumping faster now, filling my mouth with his cock as far as I can take it. He looks down at me, and we lock eyes—I feel sexy and vibrant and alive as he watches me take him deep, as I let him use my mouth for his own pleasure, let him see me love every second of it.
I can see it in his eyes when he comes. They glaze over, and his body goes tight. His cock stops in my mouth, and the warm flood of his come splashes across my tongue. I suck, coaxing more from him. My mouth fills with seed, and I look up at him again, making a show of taking every drop from his cock before swallowing it all.
He’s staring me, and I smile at him, putting his cock back in his pants. It almost looks like he can’t move. “Why, Andrew Finch, are you speechless?”
“Yes. Yes I am.”
There’s a knock at the door and we both jump. “I’m back, Mr. Finch, but I’m going to head out to lunch now,” Mary says outside.
“Thank you, Mary,” Andrew says, his voice sounding a bit strangled.
I reach out and straighten his tie, feeling like somehow I’ve won a small victory. He’s the one with all the experience, and yet I’ve rendered him speechless. I won’t forget that. “I guess you can cross that off your list.”
“I guess so.”
He’s still stunned, and I’m still smirking. “I’ll see you later at the house.”
“Yes you will, and I’ll be thinking of creative ways to return the favor.”
Now there’s a thought that’s going to haunt me all day.
12
I’m disoriented when the door opens to my room. It’s dark, and late, and why is there someone here? My brain is panicking and I’m about to scream when I hear Andrew’s voice. “Naomi?”
My own voice comes out as a sleepy slur. “Oh, it’s you.” The door closes softly, and I hear the footsteps across the floor and feel the mattress dip beside me. Suddenly I can feel the heat from his chest—he’s shirtless and I’m now very, very awake. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he says. “I didn’t get back until a little while ago. I wasn’t going to wake you up, but I’ve been thinking about you too much to sleep.”
“What a nice surprise.” I hope that he can hear my smile in the dark.
“I kept my promise,” he whispers. “I’ve been thinking all day of ways to make you come.”
I laugh and let him pull me against his body. “Oh really. I’m pretty tired, but I think I can manage if you make it worth my while.”
“I started making a list,” he says, putting his mouth against mine and tracing my lips with his tongue.
“Really?”
“It was more fun than working on my cases. I plan to thoroughly ruin you, Ms. Grayson.”
I can hear the lust that laces his words, and I shudder as he moves from my mouth to my jaw, then up to my ear. He bites it gently, sucking down the side to the lobe, grazes it again with his teeth. I used to make fun of moments like this—I never thought that someone sucking on my ear could be hot.
I was wrong.
My body is already singing and he’s barely touched me. He whispers, “For hours I’ve been imagining the sounds you’ll make when you come tonight.”
“What are you planning?”
He chuckles darkly. “And ruin the surprise? No.” He bites my neck, smoothing away the pain with his tongue. “But I am very certain it is something that you have never done before. All you need to do is feel. And come.”
My heart skips and speeds up. “Okay.”
I close my eyes, and do as he says. I concentrate on the sensation as he pulls the blankets back, the feeling of slipping fabric as he undresses me piece by piece, the whispers of fingers and lips in unexpected places. His hands part my thighs, curving around and lifting my legs toward my chest. I feel the air on my pussy and the vulnerability of this position as I’m spread open in front of him.
He gives me a long, slow lick and I groan, biting my lip to keep my volume in check. Tongue is swirled across my clit and back, and I close my eyes again, just feeling. He dips a finger inside of me, and then two, curling them against the walls of my pussy in a way that makes me jump. Then there are three fingers in me, each running along that sensitive place, and I feel my orgasm building more quickly than I’ve ever felt. My breath is gone and I’m gasping, small moans escaping with each exhale. Andrew knows I’m on the edge and he slows his pace, holding me there.
Then I feel his tongue against my ass and the touch is so sudden and unexpected, I come. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming as my pussy convulses around his hand, pleasure shattering outward in a starburst. Andrew doesn’t stop fucking me with his hand, forcing wave after wave of lightning to wash over me. He wrings every ounce of the orgasm from me, leaving me spent, my limbs feeling like jelly.
He pulls his fingers out of me, and I moan at the loss. I feel his teeth nip at the inside of my thigh and I jump. Andrew’s hands are sliding on my skin and gripping my hips and then—
Oh. My. God.
Andrew’s mouth is locked against my ass, his tongue pressing at the opening. He sucks and swirls, the sensation so strange and new, the idea so shocking that I’m dripping again.
The tip of his tongue draws a line from my ass up to my clit, dipping deep into my pussy on the way. He sucks his way back down, and I’m panting. My fingers find his hair and I pull him aga
inst me, needing more of this, more of what he’s doing to me, more of his mouth, more of everything. He’s sucking at my ass and I think I might be delirious. I’m saying things and Andrew’s name and I’m pleading with him to make me come again and I’ve never felt like this.
One of his hands finds my clit and I’m so slick that his fingers slide against me. Andrew presses his tongue against the bud of my ass and presses, and again, and again, thrusting his jaw against me. He’s circling my clit with his thumb and fucking my ass with his tongue and I can’t hold on any longer.
“Andrew,” I moan, so close to the edge I can barely form words.
His mouth finds my pussy as I break open, swallowing the flood of my juices spilling out. My fingers dig into his scalp and my hips are working against his face as what feels like bliss spills over my skin and through my nerves. There is nothing behind my eyes but light, nothing in my brain but ecstasy. I ride the orgasm for what feels like forever and it’s still not long enough.
My heart is pounding in my ears as I come back to myself. Andrew’s lips are still against my pussy. He kisses me there softly, almost tenderly, and it still makes my body jump. He climbs up to hover above me, kissing me on the mouth. I can taste myself on his lips and the realization makes my body heat up all over again.
“Was that worth your while?” he asks, his voice raspy.
“I think that’s an understatement.”
“I’m glad.” He wraps his arms around me and fits my back against his chest. My entire body is languid and relaxed, muscles warm and pliant after his attention.
“I’ve never done anything like that before.”
Andrew laughs softly in my ear. “I know.”
I love that he’s not afraid of my innocence. I love that he spent the day planning how to give me pleasure. I also really love the way we fit together, skin to skin and legs a little tangled. My mind starts to think things that are dangerous about how much I’m enjoying this, and I force those thoughts back.
“What’s your favorite color?” Andrew says, and it startles a laugh out of me. “What? I figure now is as good a time as any to ask some questions. If I did my job well enough, I should be able to ask you anything.”
“Green,” I say. “And I think you’re right. You could ask me anything. What’s yours?”
“Silver,” he says.
“That’s not really a color.” I turn myself a little bit toward him. “Colors aren’t shiny. So basically your favorite color is gray.”
He chuckles. “I’m actually fine with that. Gray is a nice color.”
“Favorite food?” I ask.
“Tiramisu, without a doubt.”
I find his hands and trace his with mine. “Good choice. As weird as it sounds, mine is pepperoni. I can’t get enough of it.”
“So it’s safe to say you’re not a vegetarian.”
I shake my head and grin. “Not even close.”
We’re quiet for a moment, then: “Tell me a funny story about yourself.”
My life hasn’t really been funny for quite some time, so it takes me a minute to think. “I used to have a roommate when I lived in L.A., and we would prank each other by trying to take embarrassing photos of the other and then printing them out and leaving them all over the apartment for each other to find. She was always really good at it—that, and I always take really awkward pictures. It seemed like every day I would come home and find a different awkward picture in a different place. It was a little weird when we had people over, but it was fun. I would try to go and delete the pictures from her phone or computer, but she always kept back-ups—”
“I would really like to see those pictures sometime,” he says. But I can’t respond, because my brain has snagged. Something I read in the files downstairs, about the security company. Trident Security. “Naomi?”
“Hold on,” I say, struggling out of his embrace and off the bed. I find my pajamas in the sheets and pull them on. “I have to go downstairs.”
“What’s wrong?” He’s suddenly concerned. “Are you all right?”
“I just thought of something for the case.”
I hear him stand up too, and say, “It’s almost two a.m., can’t it wait till morning?”
“I don’t think so.” I’m already out of my room and halfway to the stairs.
I flip the light on in the dining room and attack the boxes, looking for the box from the other day, the one with Robert Greene. It takes me a minute to find it, and Andrew is standing in the doorway watching me, totally bewildered. My eyes snag on his body and I have to force myself back on task because he’s so distracting.
“What are you looking for?”
“It could be nothing, give me a second.”
Here’s the box. I paw through the papers to find the comprehensive and boring rundown of the company. I scan it, feeling drowsy already from the minutiae, but it’s there. It’s there. “When the police checked the security records for the entry and exit logs, they checked the servers in the mansion and the central Trident servers, right?”
“Right. There was nothing on them to indicate he left the house.”
I beam at him. “Well, thankfully, Trident Security is a totally normal security company. A.K.A. totally creepy. This changes everything.” I fling myself at Andrew, forcing him to catch me and I kiss him full on the mouth. “And now I’m not sure I’ve had enough of you tonight.”
He spins me against the wall, and then we’re kissing like our lives are at stake. I’m breathing him in, ready to let him take me, do whatever he wants to me. Nothing could be more perfect. And then:
“What the fuck is going on in here?”
I freeze, closing my eyes. No. This isn’t happening. It’s really not happening. Andrew steps slowly away from me, and I see my uncle standing in the doorway. His hair is frazzled, his pajamas rumpled, and his expression thunderous.
“I asked you a question.” He’s not looking at Andrew, he’s looking at me. But I don’t say anything. How can I? He knows what was going on. Saying it is just an insult to both of us.
Andrew clears his throat. “She had a thought about the case, Roger. She came down here to see if she was right.”
“And I suppose she found what she was looking for inside your mouth, Finch?” From the corner of my eye I see Andrew flinch like he’s been hit, but my uncle’s not finished with me yet. “I warned you more than once that he would try to use you against me. I told you to stay away from him. We both know you’re not good enough for this job, but I thought I could trust you to follow simple instructions. I guess that’s not true.”
“Roger,” Andrew interrupts, his voice firm, “This has nothing to do with the case. I know you think I’m trying to take the firm from you—I’m not. I like Naomi, and our spending time together has nothing to do with you. She’s done amazing work on this case, you can’t just—”
“It has everything to do with me!” My uncle turns away from Andrew and toward me and I feel like he’s as tall as a skyscraper. “Did you tell him how much money I had to spend to bail you out? Did you tell him our deal, and how you somehow suckered me into hiring you, somehow convinced me that this would be anything but a waste of my time? Well, I guess I was right. You’re just like your father, a manipulative failure. If you have anything to say for yourself, do it now.”
There should be words coming out of my mouth, I know, but I feel numb. I can’t breathe, I can’t speak.
“Fine,” he says. “We will discuss your future at the firm and in my house at a later time when there’s less company present.”
He stalks out of the room, and I feel like the atmosphere collapses. He’s right, I am all of those things. I couldn’t get anywhere on my own in L.A. and had to come back, I did everything he told me not to with Andrew, I’ve been barely helpful on the case. He’s right. I am a failure.
“Naomi. Naomi.” Andrew has me by the shoulders, gently shaking me. How did I end up on the floor? “Are you with me?”
; “I don’t know.” I think I’m the one who says that. I feel dazed and distant, like the world is suddenly filled up with fog.
“That’s better than ‘no,’” Andrew says. I feel him helping me up, but my legs don’t seem to be working right. Did my uncle’s words break my bones? Maybe…
He’s going to fire me. I’ll be homeless. I’ll never get to go back to L.A., never be able to try to make a second chance at music. It’s all over. Done. Finished.
I’m in bed—how did I get here? Did Andrew carry me? Andrew is with me, tucking me against his chest. He’s saying things like it will be okay, but he doesn’t know. It’s not okay. None of that was okay. This was my chance, my only chance, and now it’s gone. I feel like I should cry, but I can’t. If I cry it will all be real.
I don’t cry…but eventually I sleep.
13
I open my eyes a few hours later when the sun is barely rising. It’s one of those rare moments when I’m fully awake almost as if I never went to sleep. The barest hint of light is touching the walls, and everything is still a mess. The same thoughts enter my head, paralyzing and insidious. I sigh. I’m not sure what to do now. Andrew is asleep beside me, his arm slung across my waist. A feeling of warmth spreads through my chest at waking up next to him, but the next moment it’s gone. Because isn’t being with him what cost me everything? If my uncle hadn’t seen us together, everything would be fine. I’d still have my job, and a place to live.
A smaller voice tells me that it’s not true, that my uncle would never have been happy regardless of what happened with Andrew. I wish it was true, but I can’t bring myself to believe it.
I look at Andrew in the half-light. He’s beautiful. I like his openness and his willingness to try new things with me. I like the fact that he knows what he wants. I like that his favorite color is silver. I like that he is kinder than he appears. I smile, just for a moment able to forget what happened. I shift closer to him, and Andrew opens his eyes.
Best of Penny Wylder: Virgin Romance Page 7