He licks the length of me.
“And it’s so fucking sweet.” He looks up from between my thighs and our eyes connect. His lips glistening with my arousal. Just when I think I can’t possibly be more turned on, he grins like the devil and says, “It’s mine now.”
He’s a kid with an ice cream cone that refuses to share. Barrett’s possessive talk only coils the tension in my belly tighter. I can feel my orgasm climbing. A rollercoaster climbing to the top. He slides one long finger inside me and I’m done.
“Oh, God. Barrett. Yes,” I say breathless. “I’m coming.”
I cry out as my hips jerk off the couch and my legs clamp around Barrett’s head. He’s going to die, I’m going to strangle him with my legs, but I can’t stop. It’s too good.
When I can breathe again and my heart isn’t going to leave my chest, I open my eyes to find Barrett still between my legs, gently prying them open.
“Oh, no. Did I suffocate you?”
“I’m fine. But it wouldn’t have been a bad way to go.” He grins.
He emphasizes this by sucking his finger into his mouth. The one that was inside me and is now covered in my juices. Sweet Jesus.
I want to be embarrassed, but Barrett’s unabashed desire to taste me and the aftereffects of my orgasm leave me craving more. That and I can see his erection pressing against the zipper of his pants.
“Take this off.” I claw with my nails at his shirt. The post orgasmic brain-altering chemicals floating around my body have taken over. “I want you naked. I want your cock in my mouth.” Who am I right now?
Barrett shakes his head, and moves out of my reach. His lips are wet from me and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and I stand corrected. That is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“If you want to call the shots, you’ll have to win next time.”
He’s talking about WordIt.
“There’s only one word a day. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow!” I whine. Now that I’ve had a taste （or in this case Barrett has had a taste）， I want more. The bulge in Barrett’s pants is screaming for relief, yet he seems determined to leave it be. I’d say I was a sore loser if I hadn’t been the one riding Barrett’s face to orgasmic pleasure a moment ago.
Barrett stands and adjusts himself, then places a kiss on my forehead before retreating.
“Goodnight, Chloe.”
But it wasn’t a good night. While my body was sated by Barrett’s tongue, my mind was restless. And my nails felt like a new appendage that I wasn’t sure what to do with. I tried a thousand positions. Hands resting on my chest like Sleeping Beauty. One hand tucked under my pillow, the other resting on top. Both hands overhead, but then my arms fell asleep.
Once I finally got comfortable, my mind drifted to Barrett. Thinking of him across the hall and wondering if he’d taken care of himself. Regardless of the rules of the game we’d played, I couldn’t help but feel a sting of rejection when he pulled away.
Thoughts of Barrett and what more might happen between us kept me up and I ended up oversleeping, somehow tapping the dismiss button on my alarm instead of snooze. Then there was the complication of what to wear. After spending ten minutes trying to button a blouse, I gave up and threw on a tank dress and heels.
At work, as I anticipated, everything has been taking longer with these nails than it normally would, typing especially. With the additional workload I’ve taken on in Lacey’s absence, going slower is not going to cut it.
I spent fifteen minutes trying to scan a signed contract, but kept messing up the email address I was inputting. Then, I accidentally deleted a week out of the editorial calendar, so I spent half an hour recreating it, and double checking that I hadn’t left off any important deadlines.
At this pace, there won’t be enough hours in the day to get everything done.
Not to mention, JoAnna left for London last night for meetings with our UK office, and in her absence, I have to finalize everything for the Books 4 Kids launch event on Friday.
With the added challenges, my mind should be focused on work, but I find myself thinking about last night with Barrett.
Mostly about his tongue and his fingers and the way his hazel eyes looked staring up at me from between my thighs.
I’m in mid-thought when Jules appears and sets a brown bag onto my desk. She’d asked if I wanted to go to lunch, but with the setbacks I had earlier, I hadn’t been able to take a break.