Page 77 of Worth Every Moment
My gaze ping-pongs between Matt, Arthur, and the phone screen, but it’s the phone that captures my attention. I watch, hardly breathing, as Erica pads about my room. She lifts the photo she brought me, which I placed on the bedside table, stares for a few seconds before replacing it, and starts opening cupboards, peering inside. She pulls out a suit jacket and puts it to her nose, holding it there like she’s inhaling it.
Wait a fucking second.Is she sniffing my suits?Her eyes flutter closed and when she tips her head back, her mouth slightly open, I imagine the sound of the sigh she releases.
And that’s when I know it for sure. She’s turned on.
I nearly leap to my feet, wanting to pump a fist in the air, but panic quickly suffuses my elation.
My bedroom is the one place I’ve carved out as absolutely mine. When I have parties, I lock the door. It’smyfucking space, and no one gets in.No one. Not even Erica Lefroy.Especially not Erica Lefroy.
I can’t take my eyes off the screen. It’s clear she has no idea that I can see her. If she knew, she wouldn’t be in there.Please, don’t go into the bathroom. She edges up to the bed, stroking the sheets with one finger.
“Seb? Are you with us?” Matt asks.
“Yeah. Absolutely.”That didn’t sound in the least convincing.
I glance back at the phone just in time to see Erica fling off her robe and toss it on the floor.
I can’t breathe. My heart feels like it’s exploding.
She’s naked. Completely fucking naked.
Oh, fuck.
Blood rushes to my dick. I rocket from my seat before anyone notices that I’m already half-hard. This is so wrong. I should have told her there are cameras in my room.
“Sorry. I have to go. Excuse me.” I gesture with my phone, then panic that they can see the screen, and shove it deep in my pocket, which serves the dual purpose of disguising my semi.
“Seb,” Matt says, his voice sharp. “This is—”
“Can’t. Sorry.”
I leave the room before anyone can say anything else and unmute the phone screen.
“Okay,” comes Erica’s voice as she talks to herself.“Let’s do this.”
Do what?
I start running to my office, dialling her number, but she doesn’t answer. I push open the office door and call her again.
No answer.
I dial again, with the same result.
I pull the phone from my ear and glance at the screen. Erica bends over, touching her toes like she’s limbering up.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
I should look away. I should put my phone in a drawer and lock it. Pretend this never happened.
But… I don’t.I can’t.Call me a weak man, but the woman I’ve fantasised about for years is bending over, naked, in my bedroom, when I expressly told her never to go in there. Instead of doing the right thing, I click on my computer, loading up the live feed to the big screen as fast as I can, and take a seat.
She arches her back, hands behind her head, just like she did when she was sitting on my lap during the photo shoot. Except now she’snaked.
Erica Lefroy is naked in my bedroom.The only fucking problem is, I’m not there.
I drag my free hand down my face as I stare at the screen.Holy mother-fucking-fuck-fuck-fuck.
She’s doing some kind of yoga stretching at the foot of the bed, tits jiggling.Holy shit. My dick gives an angry throb beneath the desk, and heat rushes my entire body.
