Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
My fingers linger a little on my clit.
Come on, Norah. Move it along.
Okay, but really, what would it hurt? It’s not like it’s going to take a while—I haven’t come in I don’t know how long. Thomas tried—or at least, made it seem like he did—but he could never hit the spot just right. Plus, it’d probably relieve a lot of the tension I’m feeling toward my new boss. And man, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.
Right?
Carefully, tentatively, I swirl my finger around my clit, swiping at it at the end of each circle. At first, I’m just considering it. Just testing. Just teasing. But it ultimately feels so good—too good—that my toes curl against the tile, and I have to steady myself with a hand to the wall.
Yeah, this isn’t going to take long at all.
Decorum out the fucking window while the scent of my boss’s cleansing trio fills my head, I touch myself until my spine feels like a single puff of air could snap it.
My mind loses itself in thoughts of Friday night. The way he kissed me. The way it felt to have his hands on my body. How hard his cock felt beneath his jeans.
Heat runs through my cheeks and my belly at once, the apex of my climax just a millimeter away. Spine bowed, I let my head fall back into the warm water as all the tension in my body releases in a crashing wave of pleasure. And the entire time, I can’t help but visualize Bennett’s body over mine, his cock inside me, and his finger at my clit instead of mine.
I have to cover my mouth with my free hand to stop myself from screaming. My body shakes and my heart races as I come down from the highest peak I’ve hit in years—maybe ever.
Oh man. Talk about crossing an intimate line. Not only have I been naked in my boss’s shower, but now, I’ve also made myself come. I don’t think he had this in mind when he offered to let me use it.
Holy hell, what have you done, you freak?
A rush of shame makes me hurry to finish, and I turn off the water without even considering doing a second wash on my hair. Sure, it’s my normal, but I doubt this kind of shampoo and conditioner is going to turn my hair into anything but straw anyway. Not to mention, it’s that very product that led me to Masturbation Lane.
I towel off and twist my wet hair into a ponytail before putting my underwear and bra back on and running into Bennett’s closet to grab something to wear. Typically, I’d be careful with my choice, but the embarrassment and need to vacate the premises as soon as possible really cut into my overthinking. I grab the first shirt and sweatpants I come to, throw them on and roll them up until they fit, and then flee the scene like I’ve just completed a heist.
By the time I make it to the studio, I’m nearly out of breath, and Summer and Bennett are there. Charlie is gone.
“I’m here, I’m here,” I blather dramatically as I jog in. “I’m sorry I took so long, but I’m getting to work right this minute. Social media, emails, website, phone calls—I’m ready to tackle it all!”
When I look up, I see I am unavoidably the center of attention—and not just because I’m late.
Bennett and Summer both stare at me with mouths agape, their focus on my borrowed clothes. I look down at what I’ve thrown on and freeze. “What…what am I wearing?”
Bennett, astonishingly, laughs. Whole body, face transforming, bent over at the waist, he looks like a movie star and a rock star and the king of an entire country. He is regal in his humor, and it’s the most amazing thing I’ve seen in at least a decade.
So much so, I almost don’t even hear him when he speaks. “That’d be my Halloween costume from two years ago.”
Summer giggles. “I wanted to be Anna, you know, from Frozen. Dad was Kristoff.”
“Hmm. I guess that explains why I look like a Norwegian boy.”
Bennett’s laugh has faded to a smile now, but I swear it’s just as good. Big and bright and so genuine, I would never have dreamed it possible.
Summer laughs again, but what starts out as endearing quickly turns into a cough. My eyebrows draw together in concern, and Bennett pauses for only the briefest of moments before jumping into action. I’ve never seen him move so fast as he runs to Summer’s stroller chair and flips it up to elevate her. She struggles to catch her breath, and a sharp cry of pain is the only thing that breaks the sound of her fighting for air.
I join them, panic roiling a nausea in my stomach I’ve never felt in my life. “What can I do?” I ask desperately, my chest seizing as Summer’s sweet face begins to turn blue.