Page 71 of I Still Love You

The idea of him getting work done on this desk after I leave sends a thrill through me. My arousal spins out of control, knowing it’ll be me who’s taking up the space in his head. Not another woman, but me.

“Keep doing what you’re doing.”

He smiles, the solidity of it stretching along my neck. “Come for me, Lay, before I make you fuck me in my chair,” he orders in a whisper.

“Oh, God,” I moan, my chest rising and falling rapidly as my high approaches. “Luke, I’m co—” My body shudders from the strength of the orgasm, causing me to grind my pussy into his hand and—

Pounding booms on his office door, and my eyes fly open at the same time Luke snaps his head straight. “Sorry to pester you, Luke,” Rebecca shouts, “but Gary says he’s on a tight schedule.”

Luke’s green eyes implore my own, baring me to his soul. With his hand still down my pants, caressing the most sensitive parts of me, he shouts back, “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

“Will do,” Rebecca replies, her clicking heels fading down the hall.

Luke pulls his hand from my panties to grip my waist. Goosebumps spread over my skin, making me wish this wasn’t ending so soon. “I have to get back to work.”

I nod. “I know. I, uh, I didn’t come here for that,” I clarify out of the blue. I honestly thought nothing near what just occurred would happen again, but it’s good to know Luke doesn’t find what happened in that conference room a mistake.

“You came for Claire,” he breathes softly.

“Exactly.”

“But you came for me, too,” he teases, lowering his head to press his mouth to mine. “I’ll pick you up after work tomorrow at your place. Tell Claire she’s going to wish she never asked for a rematch.” He straightens and walks to the door. “Head out after the bliss passes.”

I roll my smile into my mouth as he leaves, the door clicking shut behind him. My hands move to my cheeks, and I do my best to rub away the flush. I tuck my hair behind my ears, wondering how quickly twenty-four hours will pass because I’m already impatient. I want to see him again, and I don’t know if I can hold out until tomorrow afternoon.

29

Luke

Layla’s sister is an ass. And I’m saying that in the nicest way possible. Though I think Layla would agree with me if I said it aloud. I packed up from work as quickly as I could so I could pick Layla up and get us to her mom’s, but Claire is lucky Layla is here. If she weren’t, I wouldn’t be. Turns out, I can’t get enough of my ex lately. I get we shouldn’t be testing the waters, but I’m powerless when she’s nearby. No different from when I first met her. It didn’t take long for her to weasel her way into my heart and stay there.

“You could have called,” Britney tells Claire halfway through our Phase 10 game. Well, I’m halfway through. The rest of them are behind two phases.

Claire rolls her eyes, and Layla, who’s sitting across from me, props her foot on the chair between my legs. “Can’t you let it go? God, Brit, not everything has to follow an itinerary.”

“Some of us have other responsibilities,” Britney comments, tossing a card down. “But you wouldn’t know what that is, would you?”

The air is as thick as it was when we arrived—unable to be axed down by the sharpest blade north of the Mississippi, and I doubt it’s going to thin soon. Britney is the most uptight of the Robinson sisters, and it’s been that way since I’ve known Layla. Though, I’m sure it dates to the exact moment she left the womb.

“I have a job, don’t I?” Claire snaps back. “Pretty sure that means I do have responsibilities. If you’re so worried about Rus, then go home. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Claire insults, eyeing her cards.

I move a hand down to Layla’s foot when Britney says, “God, you’re rude.” My fingers smooth over her skin in a featherlight fashion up to her ankle. Clasping tightly, I yank her leg closer, causing her to shift in her seat.

Claire’s eyes dart to Layla for a split second before they’re back on Britney. “I’m rude? I think you mean your boyfriend is rude. Actually, no, rude is too polite a word for Rus. He’s more of a coward. Shit, Britney, does he even have a set of balls?” My stare remains on my cards as they bicker. I’m almost positive Layla’s does, too, but fuck, I’m sick of hearing these two go back and forth.

Claire was late. Who cares? We’re all here now, aren’t we? I look at my hand and pick up a card when it’s my turn, noticing I have what I need to lay down the phase I’m working on. Moving my hand from Layla’s foot, I reposition my cards and slap them on the table. “Got my phase. Whose turn is it to shuffle?”

Britney angrily tosses her cards to the center of the table where the deck sits and casts Claire with slits for eyes. “Yes, Claire. You might not believe it, but he does have balls.”

Claire purses her lips. “Your boyfriend’s balls hold the same truth as death on T.V. shows,” Claire explains. “Unless you see it happen, well, it doesn’t exist.”

“Rus has balls,” Britney argues. “Big balls. Balls bigger than any of your trashy boyfriends. Does mom know you’re lying to her? That you’re still seeing the last one? You’re lucky she went to dinner with her friend from work.”

Claire relaxes back into her chair, not bothered by Britney’s outburst. “Ooh, look at you, flinging the insults,” Claire praises sarcastically. “Mom doesn’t need to know every aspect of my life, and just because we slept together once doesn’t mean we’re together. I’m more intrigued to know if you’ve seen my trashy boyfriend’s balls to know if they’re bigger than Rus’s.”

“Well, n-no,” Britney stammers. “But you haven’t seen Rus’s, either—”

“Exactly,” Claire says, lifting her finger with a flick. “I haven’t seen them because they’re nowhere to be found. Unless, of course, your vag swallowed them whole the very first time you two fucked.”

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