Page 45 of Last Shot at Love

“Yes. We are very close to the finish line. You needn’t worry about anything. My team and I have it under control.” Beryl appeared calm, but her foot twitched under the desk.

“That’s not the only thing I’m looking forward to in two weeks.” The guy’s voice dropped to a pitch usually reserved for seduction, and instantly, the tension returned to my body.

Even though her body was angled toward the ocean, Beryl was so focused on the video call she hadn’t spotted me yet.

A wicked thought drifted through my mind.

One I immediately decided to act on.

Letting my skin shift colors, my body disappeared into the patio decor. It wasn’t good enough to trick a human eye that was diligently searching for me. However, most people took things at face value—meaning they didn’t search for an octopus where they didn’t expect to find one.

Moving slowly, I crept across the stones, using my tentacles to stay low.

“I’m sure everyone will be ready for a long vacation after the final paperwork has been signed.” Beryl had a smile on her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

The man laughed. “Of course, of course! But what I’m looking forward to most is taking you on a date. So, dinner at Miguel’s, the night after the signing? I’ve already made the reservations.”

A soft growl rumbled in my chest, and I did my best to swallow it. Without a sound, I slipped beneath the desk before Beryl even had a chance to answer the arrogant man’s question.

Her foot was tapping impatiently against the carefully laid mosaic stone floor, but her upper body didn’t so much as twitch. She was an impressive business woman, and although the land-dweller investing scene hadn’t interested me in the past, I found myself wishing I could watch Beryl handle a room full of businessmen.

I knew in my gut she’d be magnificent, and I had a feeling it would be like watching an orca hunt with cunning efficiency.

“Mr. Hillar, I thought this was a business call?” Beryl brushed the invitation off, keeping her tone relaxed, but professional. “You said you had another question your attorney wanted clarification on?”

“Timothy. Call me Timothy. We’ve worked together for months on this. There’s no reason to revert to last names.” The guy chuckled but took her hint and his tone switched to business matters. “Yes, do you have the document in front of you?”

“I do—” Beryl’s voice rose at the end.

It probably had something to do with the tentacle slithering its way up her inner thigh.

“Everything okay?” Timothy asked.

“Of course, just a slight chill in the room. Which part should I open?”

Two of my tentacles coiled around her ankles. I gently pried her legs apart, showing her I wanted her to open to me… and to me only.

“Page sixty-nine, clause eight,” Timothy answered.

The tentacle between her legs teased the edge of her thong, while the other two pulled her legs open until the scrap of silk fabric was barely covering her.

“Did you find it?” Timothy asked.

I could hear clicking on the laptop keys.

Keeping my voice low, I murmured, “Can I?”

I longed to pull the fabric aside and delve into her tight heat, but I waited.

“Yes.” Beryl cleared her throat, and I tried to figure out if she was speaking to me or Timothy.

My question was answered when Beryl shifted positions, scooting forward on the edge of the seat and straddling the chair. She was giving me permission… and better access.

With the sweet fragrance of her arousal so close to my nose, I couldn’t resist the urge to taste her. Not with a sucker this time, but with my mouth.

Leaning forward, I pressed my mouth to the tiny damp spot on the fabric and breathed deep. With my tongue, I stroked her through her thong.

Beryl’s fingers brushed through my hair and I wondered if she was going to push me away, but her hand remained still.

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