Page 57 of Finance Bros

“Nope.” I bite my lips and suppress a groan. The restraint I’m exerting is monumental. Epic. I’m legendary.

“Is this making you uncomfortable?”

I don’t know how to answer that. “Um…yes and no…”

“Same,” he says softly.

“Then stop.”

“But I’m more okay than not. Here.” With his right hand, he takes my right hand and puts it on his lap, right between his legs, directly on top of his rigid boner.

My eyes are still closed, but they’rewideshut now. He’shardhard.

“There,” he breathes. “Not so bad. Right?”

I swallow and will my hand to stay still. I’m excessively salivating. “It’s…fine.”

“You okay if I move my hand a little?” he asks.

I want to say it’s fine, do whatever, act casual like I do this all the time, but what ends up coming out is a whispered, “Please.”

He lets out a soft huff of surprise and very slowly moves his palm up my shaft, caresses the tip of my cock and then slides it back down my length. My hips lift slightly, pressing into his hand. “Sorry,” I say, trying to get back under control.

“No worries. I get it. I don’t mind.”

“Since when?” I manage to ask because that’s what I really want to know.

“You want a date?”

“Just a general idea.”

“That’s a tough one. Let’s call it a week.”

“Is that the truth?”

“It’satruth.” He sighs. “It’s complicated.”

No shit. “You about done?” I’m still not looking, but I feel his breath on my cheek when he speaks next, meaning he’s facing me.

“I mean, we made it this far…do you want to stop?”

“I…” Something wet touches my knuckles and I jerk my hand off him. He whips his back, too. It takes me a second to realize Stephanie just licked me. “Sorry—your dog?—”

“Oh,” he says, looking and sounding a little dazed as he turns toward the Yorkie and the huge tent in his shorts. “Forgot she was there.”

“No, it’s fine.” I start to get up, but he pulls the same shit he did on Saturday night and grabs hold of my shirt.

“Wait.”

I’m sorry. I can’t. Sanity has to prevail here. “This is nuts, Mal,” I tell him. “You don’t want this.”

Somehow, showing a hell of a lot more maneuverability onthis chair than I’ve ever been able to, he moves onto his side and plants a hand on my chest. Then he does the only thing that could possibly submit me. He puts his leg over mine, trapping me with it, his knee an inch from my balls.

“I wantsomething,” he says. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t need to feel your cock. Maybe I just need to be close.”

I squirm beneath him, without a clue what to make of this. “Are you high? What the fuck is going on?”

“Will you stop asking that?” His hand slides across my chest and then his arm wraps around my shoulders. He tucks his head into the crook of my neck. “Just be here with me. I’m sorry I was an asshole to you, and I fucking miss you, all right? Is that what you want to hear?”

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