Page 21 of Operation Annulment
That would be the hastily scribbled phone number beneath the logo. “Who the fuck is Liam, Katy girl, and why is he giving you his number?”
It’s not like I wanted to press pause on this thing between us, but with a full caseload at work, I didn’t have another choice. Besides, the last time I put a woman first, it damn near cost me my career before it had even begun.
After finding a place to park down the street, I walk in and spotKate almost immediately. She’s draped over the bar, chatting animatedly with the bartender. His eyes keep bugging out of his head. Given the way she’s bent over, I imagine he’s getting quite the eyeful of her cleavage.
Not as good as the one I now have saved to my phone, fucker.
I pick up their tab while staring the bartender down before turning to Dakota. “Do you need a ride home?”
She blinks up at me through narrowed eyes before shaking her head slowly. “Zane’s on his way,” she says.
“Okay, I’ll just stick around until he gets here. Is that alright with you?”
“Whatever. Knock yourself out,” she mumbles while scrolling through her phone.
“I need a ride… lots of them,” Kate says with a giggle, resting her cheek against her fist. “Hey, you found me!”
“Told you I would. Now, how much did you have, babe?” I ask, brushing the strands of hair off her face as I peer into her eyes, searching for visible signs of intoxication.
“Not nearly enough to forget you,” she admits with a soft sigh.
Well, that explains the empty shot glasses.
Once Zane arrives for Dakota, I lead Kate out of the bar and toward my car, still trying to gauge how drunk she is. She’s not slurring her speech, and her pupils aren’t dilated. And despite the sky-high heels, she navigates a curb and slides into the passenger seat without a problem.
“Are you mad at me?” she asks quietly after several minutes of silence.
“Mad?” I glance over at her as I merge onto the interstate. “Not exactly, but what the fuck were you thinking, Katy girl?”
She pushes her lips into a pout. “Is it the pictures? I thought you’d like them.”
Like them? I fucking loved them.
“It’s not the pictures,” I force out through clenched teeth before discreetly adjusting myself.
Kate tracks the movement before observing, “It looks like you liked them.”
“Mmm-hmmm—Jesus, Kate! What the fuck?” I gasp as she palms me over my jeans.
“It feels like you liked them,” she says, gently squeezing my cock as if testing its weight. “A lot. So, what’s the problem?”
This woman.
I don’t know whether to tan her ass or pull over so I can fuck her senseless.
“The problem—” I groan as her grip tightens and try redirecting her hand to my thigh. “—is that you’ve been avoiding me instead of being honest about how you’re feeling. And the drinking?—”
“You want honesty, Nate?” she asks as she unbuttons my jeans and slides the zipper down. “How’s this? For the past two weeks, you’ve dominated my every thought. And no matter how many times I touch myself, it’s never enough.”
“I’m sorry. Work has been—” I swallow and grip the steering wheel a little tighter as she frees my cock from the confines of my boxer briefs. “Kate, we can’t.”
“Can’t what?” she murmurs as she swipes a bead of pre-cum from the tip. Once she knows she has my full attention, she brings her thumb up to her mouth and sucks it clean. “Mmm… you taste good.”
Who is this woman?
What happened to the uptight therapist? Where the hell did she go? I could really use her voice of reason right now.
“Please,” I beg. For what, though, I’m not entirely sure.
