Page 61 of Say You Hate Me
Oh, fuck.
“A leaf, or a flower, or—”
“A flower?” he asks, cocking his head. He puts the pen in his mouth, leaning toward me in a subtle way. How does he look so composed, so still? It’s like he’s made of marble.
“Yes, like an artichoke flower, or—”
“Can you describe an artichoke flower? I don’t think I’ve ever seen one,” he adds, smirking. He tilts his head and gives me a lopsided smile, and when I look at the Zoom squares, I can tell everyone is waiting on my answer.
Fuck him.
“Um, it’s big, and prickly,” I breathe, sucking in a sharp breath of air as he curls his fingers even more, hitting the spot inside me over and over. “It’s usually purple, sitting right inside the center of the artichoke,” I explain, trying not to pant audibly.
“The bud,” Anderson clarifies as his thumb grazes my bud. I want to throw my head back—want to roar out loud. My orgasm is cresting, and we’re in a video meeting. I can’t make any noise—can’t react at all. It’s the worst kind of torture.
“Right,” I explain, taking a deep breath and exhaling. “It’s just an idea. We can discuss in more depth later.”
Luca, bless him, begins to move onto the data slides.
“Well, while Kelvin is here, we should finalize the direction we want to go, seeing as he’s our favorite client.” Anderson winks at Kelvin, who beams. Jesus—Anderson has sway with both men and women. He could probably seduce an artichoke if he wanted to.
I’m so uncomfortable—knowing full well I’m about to explode at any point. His fingers slowly slide in and out, wet with me, and his thumb circles my clit with every thrust. The slow, regular motion isn’t enough to set me off on its own, but then he adds a fourth finger, and I lose it. I have to keep a straight face—have to be serious for Luca, for Gather, as I have an orgasm under my desk on a work Zoom. I grip the edge of the desk, breathing through a smile.
“Okay, sure,” I reply, my eyes fluttering closed for just a second when I look at him. He’s watching me intently, and to anyone else, it looks like he’s waiting for an answer, but I know better. “We, um, we have some other ideas,” I explain, my voice uneven as the climax rips through me. My knuckles are pure white, and my body trembles uncontrollably as I contract and clench around his fingers. His breathing is shallow, ragged, and I notice a bead of sweat on his brow. “I really think we, um,” I add, quaking, “that we should circle back to this another time,” I breathe out, releasing my hands from the table and leaning back.
“Sure,” Luca chimes. “Show us the numbers for all of California, Kelvin.”
While they’re discussing the data, I take a few steadying breaths as Anderson removes his hand. He then licks each finger subtly—one by one—all five of them.
“Delicious,” he whispers, smiling as he takes notes.
Fucking bastard.
35
Anderson
I couldn’t help it.Couldn’t help moving her undies to the side, feeling her on my hand again. I’d have preferred my mouth, the taste of her, but we were in a meeting, after all. The redfuck mesuit was what did it—what caught my eye before she sat down. My cock hardened instantly, like it had some kind of muscle memory, like it remembered the velvety, warm feel of her pussy.
I’d spent two hours last night doing all kinds of yoga positions to get my body to forget, to calm down, but it didn’t work. I was insatiable, like only she could quench my thirst. And it made me reckless—something I am still trying to contend with, being at work.
I finish the day with the ache between my legs potent and raw, unable to relieve myself as the day is full of meetings. By the time five o’clock rolls around, I close everything down and exit my office, wondering if Natalia is still here, or if she remembers that we have a date tonight.
A date.
I haven’tdateda woman in years, but for some reason, the word doesn’t scare me with her.
A lot of things don’t scare me with her.
I pass by her office, smiling as I see her lit with the glow of her screen. She looks up at me through her lashes, an angry expression on her face.
“Here to embarrass me in front of a client again?”
I look behind us, knowing it would be unprofessional to close her door while I’m in here. Luca is gone, and so are most of the other employees. Then again, I guess you could say the same thing about what I did to her earlier.
I sit on the edge of her desk. “No, I’m here to help you with your alarm system, remember? And then we can go out to dinner.”
She watches me suspiciously. “I’m not sure I want to go to dinner with you,” she mumbles, and I try not to laugh at the petulant expression on her face.
