Page 108 of Ella Gets the D
The poor guy was traumatized, begging for mercy between a fit of coughs.
I trust Julian, and I trust what we have.
Metal doors widen to an empty office floor draped in darkness. Three recessed lights illuminate a pathway I follow to a second hall around the corner. Julian’s voice weaves through a tenor of soft syllables. His throaty laughter ignites a flashback to New Year’s Eve, when he nearly licked me into a coma.
I stop at the doorframe to take him in. His back is to me, which is an all-access pass to his ass and muscular thighs in black pants. A light brown leather belt holds a white button-down in place. He dips his head and chuckles with his hands firm in his pockets.
My man is wearing that suit.
As if he hears my thoughts, Julian turns mid-sentence of what I now register as Japanese. We haven’t seen each other since my Tuesday drop-in, and we have no plans to get out of bed this weekend—except to shower and replenish our fluids.
He’s still talking through his earpiece on the walk over, and he guides me into his arms. Cedar and sandalwood roll through my body at his kiss to my temple before he unzips my coat to hang next to his. When he registers the bag in my hand, he taps his earpiece. “For me?” My smile is stupid big at the joy on his face for the takeout from Suegra’s. “Thank you, sweetheart.” I get a quick kiss before he points to his desk and hits the earpiece again.
He and the bag make their way to the loveseat next to the coffee table. He pulls out the container ofsancocho de gallinaand has to bite his lip to stop a moan. His eyes lift, and he mouthsI love youbefore he’s back to his call.
I pull out the laptop from my messenger bag and set up shop at his desk. Grant work chews up a lot of time during the day. Two deadlines are approaching, and we need money to sustain our services. Julian started weekly donations to cover the kids’ lunches for us, so we can use funding elsewhere, but I won’t rely on him or anyone else to carry our expenses. Financial freedom is independence.
Childcare in DC is some of the most expensive in the country, which creates barriers for families who can’t afford to invest in high-quality early education and development. Legislation to appropriate funding to the most vulnerable isn’t moving fast enough. Bright Spot is steady and thriving because of our angel donor, but how many facilities can say the same? For our kids to soar, it takes all centers around the area. A grant or two is not enough.
An hour passes before Julian ends his call, his dinner and tie gone.
Firm fingers press into the tense muscles in my shoulders. I close my eyes and moan. “That feels amazing.”
My head falls to my forearms as Julian scoots out the office chair for better access. He lifts my gray sweater and glides hishands down my back, targeting knots to rub loose. “Your ass is amazing.” He grabs a handful and squeezes. “So are these breasts.” His hands skate up my front to cup my bra. At this angle, the lace fabric over my nipples is holding on for dear life to keep said breasts from spilling over with a sensation that sends me over the edge. I pierced them for Valentine’s Day, as part of my divorce checklist and a gift to myself. Morgan couldn’t believe it, and honestly neither could I.
“Julian.” The hormones this man excites are currently playing double Dutch.
My butt lifts from the seat in his grasp. He kicks the chair out of the way and spins me around to face him. Desire darkens his eyes as he holds my face and takes my mouth. I soften at the probe of his tongue and lean back on the desk, closing my laptop and all thoughts about grants.
“We should stop, sweetheart,” he whispers over my lips. “It’s late, and you haven’t finished your grant application.”
If there are two things mothers excel at, it’s handling business on limited sleep and tackling multiple to-dos at once. We can walk and chew gum, and I can finish grant work and get this dick.
I sit up and pull his mouth to mine with my teeth. His groan deepens when I reach for his length and squeeze. “I appreciate your chivalry, but you need to finish what you started.”
A knock at the door startles me out of my nap. I haven’t taken one since Haile was younger, but I have zero shame admitting I needed it. Julian put me straight to bed after three orgasms. He had to cover my mouth for Otis not to hear me howling after midnight.
Another knock.
I flip off the loveseat and fall ass-up on my knees with no underwear on or common sense. Julian ripped through the lace with his teeth and locked them in his drawer before he contorted my legs like I graduated from Cirque du Soleil.
Hence the need for a nap.
I cover myself with Julian’s navy blazer, the one I used as a blanket while he took his final call, and bolt to my feet, trying to find a good hiding spot. Otis has to know we’re together, but he can’t see me like this.Stall him, I mouth.
Julian rolls his lips to hold in a laugh. “Just a minute, O.”
“Is Ms. Greene hiding?” Otis’s amused tone filters through the other side of the door. “It’s unnecessary, sir; we know not to say anything.”
My eyes balloon while Julian cracks up.
Here I am trying to blend in with an office plant that barely reaches my shoulders. I swear I’m usually more dignified than this, but the man currently wiping tears from his eyes brings out the nasty part of me, and that heifer clearly has no home training.
Julian stands to round the wooden desk we tested for quality assurance less than an hour ago. “Relax, sweetheart. We’re safe here.” He winks before pulling the door open, but not wide enough for Otis to walk in and find me covering my coochie.
“Stop with the ‘sir.’ I’ve only asked for a decade,” Julian says with no bite in his tone.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Otis clears his throat like he didn’t catch us acting like two teenagers sneaking around. Technically, he didn’t, but he’s in for an eyeful if he steps inside this office. “You good back there, Ms. Greene? I hope the door isn’t crushing you.”
