“Stuff,” I reply with a smirk.
“Mysterious,” she hums. “Let me guess: an underground poker tournament? An international jewel heist?”
“Something like that,” I say, standing and heading to the bar.
She watches me pour a drink, suspicion flaring in her eyes. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“Nope.”
She accepts the glass I offer her anyway, sipping it slowly as I pull something from the inner pocket of my jacket—a folder. It’s thin and unassuming, but the weight of it feels heavy as hell.
“What’s that?” she asks.
“Paperwork.” I flip it open and pull out a single-page NDA, one of Sam’s. I had to dig through files in his room to find a blank template, which was a pain because he's so meticulous about everything being in place. It took me two hours to make sure everything was just as he left it.
It was worth it, though. I don’t know why we’ve never thought about doing this with civilians before. It’s legally binding enough to keep us safe, and breakingit could carry serious consequences. I’m hoping that when everyone finds out that nothing will keep me from having her, this will soften the blow at least a little.
“Paperwork for what?” she teases, one brow raised.
“Can’t say.”
She gives me a dry look. “Why not?”
“I could tell you,” I murmur, reaching out to hook a finger under the strap of her top and dragging it down her shoulder, every inch that is exposed only makes my mouth water, but I manage to hold my composure for now, “but then I’d have to kill you.”
She snorts. “Not funny.”
“It's a little funny,” I say, kissing her collarbone.
I set the paper down on the tray table and grab a pen, clicking it once before offering it to her.
Her eyes narrow. “Is this for your OnlyFans?”
“Would that make you sign faster?” I tease, placing my palms on her thighs, loving the contrast between my callouses and the plump flesh as I drag my hands further up.
She rolls her eyes and takes the pen, but doesn’t move to sign yet. “Will I regret this?”
“I hope not.” I murmur, pushing her legs apart and sinking to my knees in front of her.
“Moe—” She sucks in a sharp breath.
“Isn't this our way of saying thank you?” I whisper, I nudge her skirt up and drag my mouth over the curve of her knee, teeth grazing just enough to make her squirm.
“This can be your way of thanking me for the trip, and me thanking you for signing.” My lips brush against the inside of herthigh.
She clutches the armrests when I slowly kiss her through her panties. It's not nearly enough, just a languid peck that has her face screwing up in frustration. If she didn't smell so fucking good, I’d keep this pace, teasing and taunting, until I got what I want but I betray myself by dragging my tongue up her core until the fabric of her underwear is dampening against it.
She whimpers and her hand fumbles for the pen.
“Sign,” I growl against her heat. “Right now. Before you forget your own name.”
As she scrawls her signature, I yank her panties aside and bury my mouth between her thighs.
“Moe—fuck—” She gasps, the pen clattering to the floor as I suck her clit into my mouth and don’t let go.
My tongue flicks and rolls with practiced ease, lapping through her lips like she's the best thing I’ve tasted since chocolate chip pancakes. I moan against her, dragging two fingers up to press into her, slow and deep, curving just right. Her body bows off the seat.
The sound she makes could break me in half.