Page 11 of Best Friend's Dirty Ex

Of course, the person calling me would be the very man I’ve been imagining bringing me to pleasure as I touch myself, and his words only ignite the desire within me... until reality brings me back.

Shame and guilt flood through me and I feel my cheeks sting as the feelings of pleasure fade. “What can I do for you?” I can only hope he doesn't hear how breathless I am or the aroused, husky tone of my voice as I speak.

He lets out a dark chuckle. “Oh, there’s plenty you can do for me.”

I squeeze my eyes closed, certain that this man is going to be the end of me. How can I stop thinking dirty, deviant thoughts about him if he never stops turning me on with every word, every look, every touch?

I just need to resist him a little longer.

I can do this.

I think...

Chapter Six

Troy

I'm not stupid.

I can tell by her voice that she was clearly in the middle of something intimate when she answered. Which leaves me wondering, why did she answer my call? I can't hear any shuffling sounds or anything else from the other end of the line, so I imagine she's alone, almost definitely touching herself or using a toy. The thought makes me hard, and I find myself wishing I was there to help relieve her hunger.

“Why did you call, Troy?” She deftly sidesteps my dirty-minded comment, and I can’t help but be amused.

“You asked me to call so we could discuss the ideas you had for my office.” Did she forget she’d sent me a text about what she’d already sketched up?

I hear her shift in place, as if she's sitting up. “That's right. I did. I apologize.” The way the apology flows from her lips has me surprised. There's something so refreshing about how she owns that she made a mistake and immediately takes responsibility. Most people that I know in that situation would get defensive and try to find a way to shift blame away from themselves, instead of just stepping up and admitting what happened.

“No need to apologize.” No need to make her feel bad, I just want to move things forward. Though now I'm also thinking about what she was doing before I called. What was on her mind that had her touching herself? Why did she sound so flustered when she answered the phone to my voice? If I put two and two together, I can only imagine she was thinking about me while masturbating and that thought makes me harder than I could ever imagine.

I shift in place, trying to relieve the ache between my legs. I'm going to have to visit Club Red and scratch this itch one way or another. Of course, I'm not going to give up trying to win over Everly, but a man has needs and mine need to be met to keep my head clear and in the game.

“Thank you. I was thinking we could meet in person so I can show you what I've come up with. Is there a good time or place you'd like to meet?” She's all professional once more and I find myself wishing she’d been off-balance a bit longer. I already miss the humming purr of her aroused voice.

Maybe it's for the best that she's back to business; I imagine it'll be a little harder to convince her to come to my home if she's thinking dirty thoughts.

“My door is always open to you, either for work or if you choose to stay.” I want her to know my offer still stands for her to use the spare room while she is working on my place. I highly doubt she'll change her mind, but I still want her to know that it's available. Hell, I wouldn’t mind if she wanted to stay even longer than needed to redesign the office, but I can't imagine she’d go for that.

“You keep on saying that I might take you up on that offer one of these days. Seems like a vacation.” I hear the joking tone of her voice, but there's an undercurrent to the words, as if she’s on the fence and actually considering staying.

I like that thought.

“Then I guess I'll have to keep reminding you that you’re welcome to stay.” I already know that if she stays with me, it'll be game over. I'll be able to break down her barriers and have her in my bed in no time. The thought of her squirming, naked, whispering my name in my ear as she spreads her legs for me has me ready to go. And I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing the heel of my hand against the front of my pants as if that’ll calm the storm raging within me. I hear her speaking.

“Troy?”

“Yes?”

“When would you like me to come over so we can discuss the redesign? We keep going off topic.” Her throaty tone seems to have cooled off a bit, and I wonder what caused her to go slightly cooler.

“You can come over now or anytime tonight or tomorrow if that works better for you. My schedule is reasonably open.” The nice thing about working for myself is it means that I work all the time, except when I don’t. Maybe that statement doesn't make sense. What I actually mean is that I am always working, but I don't have to be. I choose to be. Which means at any time I could stop working and take some time. And for Everly, I would happily take time from work to focus on her.

“How about the day after tomorrow?” Something in the tone of her voice tells me she's putting me off for a very good reason, and I can only imagine she's trying to establish some kind of boundary, some sense of control over our situation. That's fine with me. If deciding when we meet makes her feel more comfortable about meeting with me, I'm still at a net win, because when we meet - as in the date and time - doesn't matter. What matters is that we’re going to meet up and be alone together.

Every moment I'm alone with her is another moment that I have to scale her walls and get her to believe that bending to my will is a good idea for her. With every look, touch, and word, I can show her that I can bring her unimaginable pleasure and excitement.

When we're spending time together, it's much more difficult for her to put me off or ignore my advances. “I can work with that.” Of course, I don't actually want to go that much longer without seeing her, but I'm not about to push back. If that's the time she wants to meet and the boundary she wants to put between us, then she's welcome to draw that line in the sand.

I'm not here to take her against her will, to force her to do anything she doesn't want to do, or even take advantage of her. I want her, pure and simple, but she has to want me too. She has to submit to my desires and my will of her own accord.

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