Page 136 of Endgame

I wonder if he would be down with me licking his arms.

Callaway looks like he’s got nothing but time, leaning leisurely on my desk, staring at me with hilarity. I can’t tell if he’s waiting for me to continue eating or silently asking me to share a bite with him.

He’ll have to rip this spoon from my cold, dead hands.

Deciding I couldn’t care less if he watched me indulge, I grab the spoon and plunge it into the jar, scooping up more than an average portion size. I bring my mouth to the creamy substance, swiping it up with one long stroke of my tongue.

“Mhmm. So good.” Who knew licking cookie butter could feel so sexual? If the heat on Callaway’s face tells me anything, he’s appreciating the view.

He’s biting into the side of his cheek, most likely leaving a gash in its place. His breathing turns heavy as I continue to lick the spoon clean, moaning and whimpering at the eruption of flavor. I could live off of this stuff. I had no intention of making this an act of turning him on, but it seems to be doing just that.

It’s time to fire him up a little more.

Cleaning my spoon, I toss it into the trash, deciding my finger is the best utensil for the job. Lifting my pointer finger into the jar, I coat the tip and bring it to my mouth. I’m leaning back in my office chair with Cal’s blue eyes dialing in on my every move like he can’t look away.

I open my lips slightly, sliding it into my mouth to suck, moaning at the taste but also putting the fantasy in both our heads of it being his cock I’m sucking instead.

How I wish it were.

“Fuck.”

His whispered groan steals my focus, causing my eyes to find his cock at full attention in his sweatpants. He’s turned on, and I don’t think I’m strong enough to act like it’s not there.

After all, we are still at Makers , and there must be some other people here to make acting on our current desire not okay. My eyes grow hazy as I shift in my seat and close my thighs tightly to relieve some of the ache.

It’s only been a day since we last had each other, and I’m already starving for him again.

My appetite for cookies and cock seems to be taking over my life.

It's not a terrible problem, but one causing issues right now.

“Angel.” My eyes find him. “Get up and stand by the wall.”

Oh God. What’s happening, and why can’t I get there fast enough?

Consequences be damned—I’m excited for what's to come.

“Are you going to do bad things with me, Callaway? Make good on your declaration.” His smirk tells me I’m in for it.

I make it to the nearest wall, close to seven feet from my desk and watch as Callaway circles my tiny office, closing all the blinds and leaving us in total darkness except for the tiny wall plug casting a luminescent glow. He’s strangely quiet, causing goosebumps to scatter across my skin. I stand mesmerized as his tall and muscular frame glides back across the office and settles in my chair behind the desk.

Interesting. Is he going to ask me to touch myself?

“Get on your knees and crawl to me.”

Jesus fuck on a spaceship.

My fantasies are finally coming true.

I was not expecting that.

The smile that floods my face is one I’m proud of. I love this side of him. For being an independent woman, being bossed around is my favorite extracurricular activity.

I kneel and watch as all feminine power I have dissolves into dust at Callaway’s feet. Not a bad place to land, I suppose.

“Ass up, tits out, Dakota. Let me see those tits bounce as you crawl.” If I wasn’t horny before, I most definitely am now.

This delicious game we play is like catnip for my libido. I’m addicted to the thrill—the grand finish always ends with some part of Callaway’s body delectably connected to mine.

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