I whimper as desire trails down my spine, culminating between my legs and soaking my panties. “Yes, Sir,” I whisper, and I eagerly take his impressive length down my throat. Moaning with each stroke of my lips around him, I coat his shaft with saliva and bob my head up and down in the rhythm he loves.
“I’m gonna come down your throat,” he groans, and I hum in response. Just as he promised, the head of his cock tightens between my lips and then he unloads down the back of my throat, spilling and spilling until I swallow it all down.
When I look up at him, he’s gazing down at me with love in his eyes. Petting my head lovingly, he smiles as he bends down and presses his lips against mine.
“You are so perfect.”
“Aren’t you in a meeting, Sir?” I whisper.
“I turned off my camera. Garrett has it under control.”
“He’s going to fire me if you can’t focus on work while I’m here.” I laugh. He hoists me onto his lap, depositing me on his desk, then rolling his chair until he’s settled between my thighs.
“I’d like to see him try.”
A few minutes later, as his tongue is buried in my folds and his lips are taking me to another planet altogether, I briefly realize that the meeting is over and it’s just Garrett’s voice on the line.
“You can’t keep ghosting our investors’ meetings,” he scolds Emerson. The camera is still off, and the mic is still muted, which is a good thing because I’m about two seconds away from screaming my way through my second climax today.
“I know you can hear me, Grant.”
Emerson chuckles between my legs. “Better keep quiet, Charlotte.” With his free hand, he clicks his screen and I know he’s unmuted the mic. Thankfully, the camera is still off or his business partner would be getting a full view of my ass on Emerson’s desk.
“I’m working through lunch, Garrett. What do you want?” he asks, his voice muffled. I bite my lip as he sucks eagerly on my clit, making me see stars.
“Yeah, lunch, my ass,” Garrett replies over the line. “I’m glad you got your girl back, but we still have a company to run, so if you could maybe spend less time getting blown under your desk and more time finding ways to please our investors, that’d be great.”
“Someone needs to get laid,” Emerson grumbles between my legs. I’ve managed to hold off my orgasm until he slides two digits inside me at the same time, and I can’t help but gasp, rocking my hips to feel him deeper.
Garrett clears his throat over the speakerphone. “Hello, Charlotte. When you two are done, can you please read the proposal I just sent. We need to meet the VIP quota by the end of the quarter or we’re fucked. And not literally.”
As soon as the line goes dead, I let out a cry of pleasure and shutter through my long-awaited orgasm. I’ve barely caught my breath as Emerson pulls me in for a kiss. He rubs his wet fingers over the skin of my chest.
“You heard the man,” he says against my lips. “You’re keeping me from doing my job, Charlotte. If you can’t stop being so fucking fuckable, I’m going to have to tie you to your desk.”
“That sounds fun,” I whisper.
“Yes, it does,” he replies.
After we both come down from our post-orgasm highs, we actually get back to work. I print out the proposal Garrett sent and then reply to him with a quick and informal apology. I like Garrett, and I hate to hear him so disgruntled. It’s not like him. He’s usually so carefree and fun, and he’s always been the biggest supporter of my relationship with Emerson. It has me wondering what could have soured his mood lately. Jealousy, maybe? Emerson says Garrett isn’t the settling down kind of guy and gets laid enough that he should never be in a bad mood about it.
But maybe seeing his best friend in a happy, committed relationship is getting under his skin.
Part of the compromise I made with my mom last month when I started moving things slowly into Emerson’s house was that we had to uphold the Taco Tuesday tradition. She hardly had to twist my arm, especially since Emerson always drives and pays, which means bottomless margaritas for us.
It makes it more bearable since Sophie always has to sit next to him, and tonight, she’s stealing all of his attention by showing him her design for the anime she’s been drawing for months now. I guess I’d be more annoyed if he wasn’t so fucking adorable, acting all enthralled by her sketches.
We’re still on our first basket of chips and salsa when my mom wraps her arm around my shoulder and whispers, “Don’t be mad at me. I couldn’t help myself.”