Page 42 of Lost Room Lawyer
“Fuck!” I shouted, causing Hector to react.
He hauled me up by the shoulder and supported me with one arm around my chest while wrapping his other hand around my neck. I rested my head back on his shoulder and enjoyed how he fucked me from behind. He drove me completely insane. When he removed his hand from my neck and began to stroke my cock, I felt him pushing me closer to the edge with each thrust.
“I’m about to come,” he panted in my ear.
“Me too.”
My muscles tensed, and all the heat surged to my center. I could sense that Hector was close as well—his arousal grew more intense, and his breath became ragged.
Then we collapsed. Together. Swept over the cliff by a hot, roaring wave. I came on the desk and felt Hector’s pulsing cock inside me. My knees went weak, and I stumbled, but Hector heldme up. We leaned forward so I could brace myself on the desk again. Panting, we came down together.
“Shit, man,” Hector groaned with a laugh as we later sat next to each other on the sofa. “I didn’t think it would be so quick.”
“Me neither,” I replied with equal amusement. “But I couldn’t stretch it out any longer.”
It felt so good. There was now a familiarity between us that I had never experienced with anyone before.
“I’m sorry,” Hector said, standing up and grabbing his pants. “I have to go home. My wife is working, and the kids need something to eat.”
A slight pang in my chest, but … “I understand,” I said, also getting dressed.
“Oh,” Hector said. “There’s something else.”
“What?” I asked. His tone puzzled me.
“Does your father know you wrote this book?”
I frowned, looking at him in surprise.
Where is this coming from? It seems so out of context. Is he serious?
From his expressionless face, I had to assume so. I found the question so absurd that I even snorted. Hector didn’t need to know that my father had no interest in the book at all. “Why do you ask?”
Hector made a face and looked visibly relieved. He searched for words, but all that came out were a sigh and a resigned shake of the head.
“Did something happen?” I asked warily. He was usually the one who gave direct answers and didn’t beat around the bush.
“Viktoria wants to meet you.”
“Your wife?”
“She’s a fan of yours—though until yesterday, she thought Nicola Rossi was a woman.”
I chuckled at first but quickly stopped; Hector’s tone was more worrying. “She wants to meet me?”
“She suggested we all have dinner together and invite Leo as well.”
I felt a sudden unease about the situation, so I turned my head toward the window and tried to imagine how this dinner might go.
“If you have concerns about us,” Hector said cautiously, “I … We—”
“No,” I interrupted his attempt to find the right words to describe what was between us. Given how panicked he got about situations that could reveal his secret, I didn’t need to worry about him being the one to let it slip. “It’s not…”
“You’re concerned about something,” Hector observed accurately. “Fill me in. Maybe I can help.”
I guess I have no choice but to tell the truth.
“I don’t want there to be …” I paused for a moment. This time, I was the one searching for the right words, while Hector waited patiently. “There mustn’t be any discussion about literature.”
