Page 6 of Addicted

“Show me how you make yourself cum, Denise.”

I grabbed the chair behind me, pulled it up, and took a seat. Her gaze was stuck to my dick, still soaked in her juices. She was staring at it like it was going to take a bite out of her.

“I said, show me.” Her red face got a little redder, and I smiled. She loved it when I made demands. The second the words were out of my mouth, her fingers dipped down between her folds.

“Good girl.”

Denise leaned back in her seat so she could cross her legs. Another tell. She only did that when she was turned on. Was she thinking about it too? The way her pussy clenched around me, her walls rippling as she came over and over again on my dick? Her gaze dips over to her briefcase again, and her back straightened.

I gave her a well-practiced look and her posture changed. She knew I had gossip. Leaning forward, I whispered the secret I overheard when someone walked past me earlier.

“Gloria’s out today. Someone said she’s getting her nose done.”

“No! Again?” she laughed, her fingers coming to cover her mouth. “She’s going to end up looking like early 2000s MJ.”

“Not ‘Butterflies’ Michael!Invinciblewas so slept on.” I clutched my chest in faux-pain.

“Before you start,nothing you say will change my mind thatDangerouswas the best MJ album. He may have blatantly ripped off the Cleveland Orchestra, but that one minute of Beethoven before ‘WillYou Be There’ changed my life.”

I rolled my eyes and she gasped in outrage.

“Of course, your favorite song is the one fromFree Willy,” I chuckled.

She held up her hand. “Lies. ‘Keep the Faith’ is my favorite. But that tour version of ‘Dangerous’...”

I hissed, and so did she.

“I’ll give you that. Him with nothing but the snaps and the stomps.” I shook my head. MJ was a bad man for that.

“Yes,” she shouted.

Her excitement filled me with something. I didn’t know what. I watched as she twirled in her seat.

“I figure we could grab lunch at eleven?” I crossed a leg over my knee and saw her wince. I tried to keep my eyes on the window and not on her, giving her the space to open up.

Both of our offices overlooked the city, with her view being a little smaller than mine.

“I wish I could, I have an appointment in SoMa,” she said, after a moment. I could hear her indecision. She was trying to decide how much to share with me. I let herthink it through, watching a far-off boat cutting slowly through the water as it headed toward the wharf.

Placing my hands in my lap, I brought my gaze to hers and remained quiet. She tried to avoid eye contact, absently scrolling on her computer, but the tension was dripping from her pores. After a few seconds, she sighed.

Without a word, she fished around in her briefcase and pulled out a small jewelry box.

A ring box.

Denise placed it between us gently like it was a ticking bomb.

It was like the room had suddenly turned into the Alaskan wilderness.

My body went cold.

I’d fucked up and waited too long, she was going to marry him.

A bead of sweat dripped down my spine and I straightened my back and hoped the fear didn’t show on my face as I opened the box.

It was hideous. A blinding, ugly ring that no woman would ever willingly put on their finger. The center stone was massive and surrounded by smaller diamonds. Large baguette stones sat horizontally alongside the middle stones, and even more stones sat around those. I tugged it up and shook my head, closing the lid shut.

Maybe therewashope.

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