Page 110 of The Girlfriend Zone

“Gladly,” she murmurs and drags a hand down her chest as she takes the phone and stares at the video call while she settles down onto the pillows, enjoying the show.

And I give her one.

I grip my shaft nice and tight, stroking it then sliding a thumb over the head, gathering a drop of liquid arousal and spreading it over the crown.

Her eyes widen, flaring with a brand-new desire. “Do that again,” she says, clearly mesmerized.

I comply, spreading the pre-come down my shaft. My balls are aching. My cock is throbbing. My brain is demanding. I can barely take this anymore and my fist flies faster, harder, sliding down my length until my hips are punching up.

Alone in a hotel room at two in the morning in Toronto, I fuck my hand until I spill all over my palm, picturing all of the things I want to do to the woman in my home who drives me wild.

The woman who seems just as surprised as I am since she says, “I didn’t plan that. But I couldn’t resist you.”

“Welcome to the club,” I say. “We have jackets.”

33

FIRST-DEGREE SEX

Leighton

The hiss of the espresso machine mingles with a show-stopping number on the High Kick Coffee sound system, nearly drowning out the sounds of my thoughts on Tuesday morning.

They’ve been chasing me all morning—thedid you really do that?—along with the realization that not only did I do that, but Iplannedthat.

When I really should be planning how to both budget for the rent increase at Hush Hush and to grow my business. Blowing out a frustrated breath, I adjust my camera, then return to my job for today—capturing the warm morning light on a matcha latte and a plate of seven-layer bars for the shop’s social media.

Taking photos grounds me when my thoughts are chaotic.

And today, that chaos is named Miles. Somehow, I thought that moment when he put me up against the wallbefore he caught his flight was a one-time thing. Aget it out of our systemmoment of weakness. Toe-curling, knee-buckling weakness. But something that wouldn’t happen again.

Last night though? There was nofuck itto last night. That was pure, premeditated, first-degree sex, when I should have been, I don’t know, devising a plan for the studio. Or even sleeping.

But as I fiddle with the lens, I’m not thinking about numbers or budgets. I’m replaying the way I felt last night giving Miles what he wanted—me. I’m not even sure what I’m shooting anymore.

I lower the camera soIcan refocus. And soon, the grandmother of the man I’ve been fantasizing about is staring at me inquisitively from across the counter.

“Where did you just drift off to?” Birdie asks as she measures oat milk for a latte, her purple feather boa flung jauntily around her neck.

I blink. “You could tell?”

She smirks. “Considering you’ve been standing there holding the camera without taking a single picture for the last minute? I had a hunch.”

Busted.

Birdie sets the milk down, resting her hands on the counter as she studies me. “What’s going on, Leighton?”

I can’t exactly tell her the truth:Oh, nothing much, just replaying the steamy details of what your grandson and I did last night.Instead, Birdie takes the reins as she gestures to one of her employees and says, “I’m going to need you to handle the next few orders.” She grabs a slice of coconut cake and two forks, along with a cup of tea, then slips around the counter and leads me to a free table. I suppose I do need a break.

“Romance is best discussed over cake and tea,” she declares.

I laugh, following her lead. “So we’re discussing romance now?”

“Please. You’ve been floaty all day. Clearly, love is on your mind.” She slides the tea and cake in front of me.

Birdie’s perceptiveness is both a blessing and a curse. I feel safe with her, but I’m not ready to spill every detail about what happened with Miles. She’s not only his grandmother—she’s also my client.

“Floaty, huh?” I say, deflecting.

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