My head drops to her shoulder as I grit my teeth and grip her waist even tighter, as her back bumps against the desk, and I force myself to look back at her. “Okay now what?” I ask, keeping my head low, knowing that the only camera in here is behind us in the left hand corner. From anyone watching it, all they would see is my back and given our position, I know what they would presume we are doing in here.
Hallie huffs in annoyance. “For the love of god,” she groans, throwing her head back to look at the ceiling in despair. “Pick me up and put me on the desk dammit. Come on Josh, I know your reputation, stop acting like a little virgin and pretend you’re gonna fuck me.”
Never did I think I would hear such words come from my little sister's best friend's mouth, and even more so I never thought I’d be intrigued by them. What the hell does she meanshe knows my reputation? I don’t have a reputation, not one I am aware of anyway, and all I can do is respond how I would any other girl, ignoring the fact this one is actually my wife.
“I mean I could definitely think of a better use for your mouth right now other than your attitude,” I snap back, feeling my pants getting tight as I lift with her with ease and place her on the edge of my father’s desk.
“Atta boy, that’s more like it,” she winks, pulling me in between her open thighs and then purposely knocking into my father’s computer. “Okay, now guide my hand on where to put it,” she demands innocently, but all it does is paint a wicked picture in my mind.
“Please stop saying stuff like that to me,” I beg, holding onto my restraint by a thread, as I move to fake kiss her neck this time, and help guide her hand to where the device needs to be. “I’m sorry about this,” I add in a whisper.
“About what?” she whispers back, her hand finally feeling around to where she needs to insert the device.
“About touching you,” I confirm, ensuring I am putting on a perfect show while not overcrowding her too much. “I know how much you hate it.”
Her head flicks back from mine, eyes trailing over my face before she admits, “You’re touch doesn’t bother me, Joshua.”
My hand flexes over hers at her words and at the sound of my name. Hallie has always had an aversion to touch, granted she manages it very well, but her admission still leaves me confused. “Since when?” I demand, more bite in my tone than I intend but it doesn’t faze her.
“Since always,” she shrugs, like it’s nothing, and then I watch as her eyes flick up to the camera in the corner, before she leans in and breathes against my neck. “Okay it’s in, but I can’t see the screen to see if it’s working.”
When I told Lincoln I was going to try and do this today, he said the program would only take a few minutes and that I’d know when it’s done, so I’m presuming we do in fact need to be able to watch the screen. My mind is still reeling when a plan hits me, and without another thought, I push Hallie back onto her elbows so she can see the full view of the monitor, and then drop to my knees between her legs.
Her eyes widen in a panic, as she gasps, “Joshua, what the hell are you doing?”
There is a wicked grin on my face now, as I lift her skirt, thanking the gods she wore one today, before I place her legs on my shoulders, careful not to touch her too much despite what she just told me. “I’m selling the sex, Hals,” I wink, ducking my head under the fabric so to anyone watching it looks like I am eating her out. “Now make sure you scream nice and loud for your husband,” I tease, bringing my hand up and tickling the outside of her thigh with my finger until she yelps. “That’s it, good girl.”
Then I have to grit my teeth to force myself to ignore the alluring scent of her, moving my hands until I can grip the desk beneath her thighs, so I don’t touch anywhere else as she gasps, “I hate you.”
All I can do is smile as I respond, “No, Hals, you really don’t.”
“Oh god,” she groans, and I crick my neck before I give her something to really moan about. Especially when all I can focus on to help me ignore the black lace panties she is wearing, is the sight of my wedding ring.
She’s my wife.
My wife.
And here I am on my knees for her,again.
Yet we are just faking it,again.
This marriage is only one day old and it’s already becoming a real problem.
Ignoring my basic instinct, which is screaming at me right now, I remind myself she is just my friend, and I keep focus on the task at hand as I ask, “Is it working?”
Her body, now covered in goosebumps, moves slightly, and I can only assume she is nodding, until she finally gasps out, “Erm, yeah, it’s working, just give me it a minute.”
A minute? A minute with me on my knees and my head up her damn skirt. Does she have any idea the kind of torture this is? Her skin is tanned and smooth, and as always she smells like cotton candy, and right now I really want to fucking indulge. What kind of fucked up plan did we concoct here? I blow out a harsh breath to try and calm my racing heart and her body jolts.
“Joshua.” Her tone is laced with warning, but all it does is make my cock jump. “Stop, I’m sensitive,” she pleads, and god the images it puts in my head of what I could do to make her truly sensitive.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
She’s your best friend you fucking animal, not one of your random hookups.
I inhale a deep breath, ignoring the candy scent I can practically taste on my tongue as I grit, “Tink, not once have I ever been on my knees for a girl and she has asked me to stop, so please refrain from trying to ruin the said reputation you told me about.” My words are meant to be a joke to pull us out of this awkward position we have found ourselves in, but her entire body flinches.
“Manwhore,” she practically snarls, lifting her foot to dig her heel into my back, and I think about returning the pain.