Page 28 of Snap Shot

“Geneviève Martel.” Her hand hangs limp in front of her. She want me to kiss it or something?

“Geneviève,” I sound like a douche imitating her pronunciation, emphasizing thevièvewhile awkwardly grasping her hand. “Do you know if Ms. Davé is in today?”

She scoffs out a series of annoying laughs. “She is, yes.Always.” Her finger points to Indi's door. “Likely eating a Nutella sandwich in her office, alone.”

She still eats those?

My eyes narrow at her condescending tone, suddenly feeling protective of someone that I only used to know. Somehow meeting Indi again struck a match in the lightless, tucked-away corner of my heart. Her place in it sparks back to life. “Thank you.”

In four strides, I'm at her door, my shadow taking up most of its breadth. I knock and wait.

“Ms. Davé?”

No response. When I peer over my shoulder, Geneviève has made herself scarce as well.

The doorknob meets my palm, hesitant and anxious to face Indi's potential wrath. It rolls open. “Ms. Davé?” I pop in, headfirst.

Indi sits at her desk, eyes closed, headphones in. Her suit jacket hangs over the back of the chair. Didn't take her for a power-napper.I repeat her name and she hums in reply with a shallow exhale. That's gotta be a coincidence. Maybe she's listening to one of those meditation apps.Her chest floats up and falls.God damn.

He-Man rouses from sleep at the swells of her terrific rack in that tight, sleeveless top. I toe closer, skimming over her upper half. She squirms. What is she doing?My palms flatten against the desk opposite her. Her index finger presses and swirls on her phone screen, bursting with color and faintly buzzing with every sweep. It's hypnotizing, drawing my torso forward until I'm hovering over and...holy, holy, holy, fuck.

Wrinkled skirt fabric gathers at Indi's hips, thighs spread, a bright pink arc peeking through the cleft of her legs. My mouth waters, feeling as slick as she looks.

That's her…all of her.

Any coherent thoughts turn to scrambled eggs as her knees pinch together, hiding her from view. And then she lets out the softest simper, followed by my name.Three times. The first time has me stiffening and my heart crawling into my throat. But the second two? They're gasps, a whined-out chant, stiffening something else entirely.

That's the hottest shit I've seen in…ever. Fuck. She's using a toy and pretending it's me. And on the clock?Wowza. Dreams do come true.

Instead of backing away, I stay jammed in my spot like a creep, gaping. My breaths slow like the current passing of time, tongue darting out to wet my lips, wanting to savor every second of this. I'd give my left nut to hear her moan out my name once more. Which is strangled by the underside of my painfully hard cock and the zipper of my jeans.

“Say it again,” I whisper, “Say my name.”

As if on command, Indi shivers, her voice wrenching out a sharp sigh. “Landon!”

My fingers slide, hands bracing against the wood to prevent my legs from buckling and climbing over that desk to have a chance myself. The force of my control lapses as I heave into the table. It jerks forward.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

Indi bolts upright, eyes and mouth wide, matching my dumbstruck expression and equally upright cock. One AirPod decides to abandon ship from her ear, free-falling to the carpet. We share a rushed intake of air, though I doubt there's any left in this room. Every bit of it has been sucked into my imploding brain and high-flying dick, hell-bent on poking out from its denim confines.

“Aaahhhhhhhh!” She lets out the most horrified scream.

By instinct, I scream back. “Ahhhhhhhhhh!”

Indi bounds to her feet, continuing the prolonged shriek. My knees decide to give up on life, sending me tumbling backward. The back-and-forth screeching keeps on, skyrocketing my heart rate as I backflip over a chair, scuttling across the floor towards the door like a crab and slipping with each step.

I scamper out of the empty office, knocking my knees into every desk corner and wall and hurtling down the emergency stairs, not looking back until I collapse onto my car.

Chapter 10: Missed Each Other

Indi

If it isn't a raging dumpster fire floating down a river of hot sewage.

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