Page 48 of Casita Casanova
Up and up I slide my hand. I’m almost at the apex—
Her hand clamps down over mine and she squeezes my fingers painfully hard.
I snort, quickly covering the sound with a cough as she picks up my hand and sets it back into my lap forcefully.
Fuck, she’s hot when she’s flustered. My cock strains against my jeans. If this video ends soon, I’m fucked. There’s no way I can stand.
And with that, the video ends.
Maryn turns her head slowly, meeting my gaze, fire and lust warring in her deep browns, then her eyes flick down to my lap. She quickly looks straight ahead, eyes wide and panicked.
Imagine how I feel, Maryn.
I lean forward and try to adjust myself discreetly, resting my other elbow on the desk.
“Oh, is it over already?” Greg looks back and forth between us. “Do either of you have any questions?”
“Um…” Maryn begins, throwing me a quick glance. “You mentioned yesterday that there’s an event this weekend? Can you tell me a little about that?”
She’s a lifesaver, this one.
While Greg explains animatedly that we’re having a big welcome to the neighborhood block party to celebrate the grand opening of this Fast Lane location, I focus on his face because focusing on Maryn’s would only make things harder.
And we’re trying to soften the situation.
When he’s satisfied with his spiel, Greg leads us back downstairs and down a long hallway to the locker room, aptly called The Pitstop. “You can pick any locker you want, but you’ll need to bring a lock with you from home. For now”—he opens the locker closest to him and pulls out a couple locks—“you can borrow these. Just don’t lose the keys.”
“Thank you, Greg.” Maryn smiles, taking her lock.
Employer or not, he looks at Maryn too long for my liking. He doesn’t get a shot at her until I’m well and done taking mine. If we were in New York, the pecking order would be obvious and iron clad.
I’ll have to assert myself here if I want the respect I deserve.
“Okay, well, your shift starts in ten, so I’ll see you both on the floor.”
When we’re alone in the locker room, Maryn rounds on me. “What the hell, Cas?” she whispers angrily. “You’re just a walking boner at this point!”
I shrug sheepishly. I’d tell her it’s not normally like this, that any time I want to, I can bury Thor into any warm, wet, and willing hole I please, but I don’t think she’d like that admission very much. Something tells me she also wouldn’t like the other part of the truth:shedoes this to me.
The stolen glances. The way she wets her lips when she stares at mine, without even realizing she’s sending the signals she sends. The flush that creeps up her chest and into her cheeks whenever I let my gaze linger on her too long.
Iama walking boner right now, but it’s not my fault.
I finally met my match. A woman that makes me want what I can’t seem to have.
The first woman who doesn’t throw herself at me and I’m ready to propel myself at her damn feet.
Her nostrils flare as she holds my gaze. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
My lips curve into the panty dropper.
“Oh,” she huffs. “Enough of that.”
“Enough of what?”
“That smile, Cas.” She shakes her head. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
I tilt my head. “What am I doing, Maryn?”
