Page 64 of Love in Mission City
He swallowed me to the back of his throat.
Tingles of pleasure shot through my body as I tried to hold out. First blow job in a massive amount of time, and I was going to damn well enjoy it.
He sucked.
My balls drew up. We hadn’t really talked about test results or swallowing or anything like that. “I’m coming, Orlando. If you don’t want—”
He sucked harder.
I came. My breath stuttered out of me as I shot into his mouth.
Still, he continued to suck, practically emptying me entirely. I couldn’t remember ever having felt so sated. So complete.
So cherished.
Which was all kinds of ridiculous. Blow jobs didn’t mean anything more than mutual pleasure. I’d gotten him off with a hand job, and he was returning the favor. I was the lucky one because as nice as a fist was, a wet, hot mouth was an even better treat.
Orlando nuzzled his nose against my spent cock and wrapped his arms around my thighs.
A wave of tenderness washed over me. I wanted to say something profound. Short ofI love you, because that would’ve been super weird. But more thanthanks, that was awesome—great job. Which was what nearly came out of my mouth.
“Knight? Are you here? I saw your car in the parking lot. And, of course, the front door is open…”
At Simone’s voice, Orlando shot up like a jackrabbit. He gazed into my eyes, those stunning blue orbs wide in panic.
Probably matching my own.
“I’ll be right out, Simone.” He tapped my chest and hissed, “Super quick.”
Then he was gone. As I put my cock back in my underwear and set myself to rights, I could hear them carrying on a conversationin low tones.Go fucking figure. Simone hadn’t dropped by once since the twins were born. And I couldn’t hear anything that would lead me to believe they were with her now. Classic Simone timing, though. Except I should also be grateful since now I didn’t have to have an awkward conversation with Orlando about boundaries and expectations and all the shit which came from giving an employee a hand job and them returning the favor with a blow job.
I snuck into the bathroom to wash Orlando’s dried cum off my hands. He’d sucked off much of it, but we’d been too busy with what we’d been focused on—mainly getting each other off—to clean up. I figured we’d have time after he’d gotten me off.
Now my sister-in-law had interrupted my afterglow. My aftercare. What I really wanted to do was stretch out with Orlando on the couch in my office and just hold him. Play with his spikey hair—which was much softer than I’d expected. And share, I don’t know…feelings.
Instead, as I wiped my hands on the towel, I girded my loins.You’re not a coward…get out there.
“Knight hasn’t given me his opinion yet, though.” Orlando’s voice rang clearly down the hallway as I approached.
Simone’s laugh carried just as far. “He never does. I think he’s vetoed me once, and of course, he was right to do it. I don’t know what I’d been thinking.”
“With cabinets?”
“No. With the interior color for a clubhouse.”
“Because lime green is truly a hideous color.” I entered the conference room with as much suave sophistication as I could muster. At least given that I’d forgotten to ensure I was zipped up.
Orlando gave me the once-over and nodded subtly in what I assumed was his seal of approval.
“Sorry, was in the washroom.” I headed toward the table.
Simone snickered. “Right.”
I halted and stilled.
She looked smug with a shit-eating grin. “You were, uh, in the supply closet?”
Heat raced across my cheeks, but Orlando stood straighter and put his hands on his hips. “It’s the fucking photocopy machine. Damn thing won’t work, and Knight was giving me a hand.”
