Page 87 of Not That Complicated

My mouth opened and I felt the blood rush into my face. I gripped my erection through my boxers.

Adam’s angry eyes flared. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip and the picture began to jerk rhythmically.

His bright, red-gold hair was spread out over a white pillow. He raised the phone, changing the angle to show his abs tensing in a quick, undulating wave. He was thrusting up into his hand; I heard the rustle of sheets, the faint squeak of a mattress, and, much louder now, the slide of skin.

His breathing picked up.

I still wasn’t doing anything except staring at him. I saw myself in the tiny rectangle at the bottom of the screen: big, startled eyes, bare chest—not quite as alluring as Adam’s—and a mesmerised expression.

I licked my lips and he mirrored the movement. He aimed the camera in a quick flash lower, long enough for me to catch the impression of his fist on his cock before he slowly dragged the camera back up over his abs to his shoulders then his face. He glared right up into the lens.

I’d never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

I hadn’t progressed beyond grabbing my dick, but my own breathing was as rough as his. “Adam,” I said shakily.

He came.

Surprise flashed over his face and then he gave in to it. His neck arched, his chest rose, and his mouth dropped open. He gasped, eyes on mine before his lashes fluttered down to lie over cheeks that had turned poppy red as he panted, sharp and high.

The pants became deep moans and I watched, transfixed, as he relaxed, muscle by muscle. His hair was damp and lay in darkened curls on his forehead. He blinked muzzily at the camera once, then closed his eyes, turned to hide his face in the pillow, and cut the connection.

Now mine were the only breaths fracturing the moonlit room.

I dropped the phone, flopped onto my back and hauled my boxers down. At the first touch of my hand on my straining, swollen cock, I came with an anguished sob, biting into the back of my wrist.

It was the best and the worst orgasm I’d ever had.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

After days and days ofwaiting to hear from Adam again, because I was too chicken to contact him myself after that confusing phone call, I was finally allowed to go home.

Okay, it was only two days later, but the waiting made it feel like forever.

I was in the conservatory when Liam called. Dad had knocked it down and rebuilt it four times. In its latest iteration and at Giselle’s request, it was an ornate, Georgian-style monstrosity that ran the (very average) length of the house, in which you could imagine a chiselled duke ravishing a feisty debutante behind the potted palms.Bridgertonwas to blame for that. I was just finishing showing my designs to the representative of the craft beer company.

Normally I’d do this over Zoom. But no. My parents were determined to embarrass me. Dad invited her over. Giselle baked a cake.

I knew the client better as Naomi Reeves.

I’d gone to school with Naomi, although she was the year ahead. She was gratifyingly impressed by my work. All I’d done was show her a slideshow of the mock-ups, and given her two branding options to choose from.

I’d worked out Dad’s angle by now. Networking, my arse.

He was using me as a shiny dangling lure.

Because as well as having gone to the same school as me, Naomijust so happenedto be the daughter of Dad’s friend, Brian.

As in Brian, the proud grandfather of a potential Gloucester Bear.

Thankfully, this potential Bear was also not Naomi’s son. If I had somehow aged enough without noticing to be in the age bracket where I could have fathered an enormous two-hundred-pound, twenty-year-old wannabe rugby star, I was going to dig myself a hole in the back garden, crawl into it, and let nature take its course.

Naomi was the owner of the company, and she was looking for a rebrand because she was in the middle of expanding.

Guess who wanted to build their new restaurant addition for them?

“I told you, Ray. I’m a businessman,” Dad had said complacently at my accusation when I put it all together.

“You’re ruthless.”

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