Nine

LILAH

The aching between my legs wakes me well before my alarm sounds the next morning. With Andrew dominating my dreams, it’s a wonder I got any sleep at all.

Last night was a fucking rollercoaster ride. I tap-danced all over the emotional spectrum, jumping from unbelievably turned on to undeniably jealous when we ran into his former classmate.

Natalia.

My jealousy was completely misplaced since I have zero claims on Andrew but the familiar way she touched him made red spots appear in front of my eyes.

Not cute, Lilah.

I need to get a fucking grip and remember my place. He is a potential client who I desperately need to land in order to make my dreams a reality. Everything else is just background noise.

Reaching for my phone on the pillow beside me, I poke the screen and see that it’s only six. I don’t have to be at the office until nine-thirty. What am I supposed to do with three hours of free time?

Far too wired to go back to sleep, I pull the thin sheet up to cover my naked body with a frustrated sigh. Naked is the only way I can sleep when the stupid air conditioning is on the fritz.

That damn superintendent is definitely going to get an earful from me today. My plan is to send a scathing text and follow it up with a phone call a little later in the morning. But those plans are derailed when I see the email notification resting at the top of my screen.

Despite the early hour, it’s my boss Edward checking in.

Surprise, surprise.

This guy doesn’t believe in downtime. Each time he has an idea, he doesn’t hesitate to email me no matter the hour. Today is no different.

When I open the email app, I notice the title of the email is “Andrew Knight.” I roll my eyes and purse my lips.

What’s with him and landing this guy? He hasn’t stopped talking about him all week. He’s always talking tirelessly about what an important asset Andrew Knight will be to Castle.

Meanwhile, I still haven’t worked up enough courage to ask him if they’re related. Edward doesn’t seem to be the type to talk about his personal life at work and I don’t want to risk getting on his bad side.

I skim over the novel-length text.

God, this man can talk for days.

By the end of it, all I can think about is the man I’m supposed to be forgetting.

Andrew had looked so damn mouthwatering last night. He’d been wearing all black again, just like the first time I met him. But last night his attire wasn’t so casual.

The black button-up hugged his chest and torso snugly, leaving me to fantasize about what wonders lay beneath it. The sleeves had been rolled up his bronzed forearms, only giving a teasing glance of the tattoos that snaked up to his broad shoulders.

Expensive black slacks had only enhanced those long powerful legs and that high, firm ass. Suede Italian loafers rounded out the look that had me swooning from the second I opened the door.

As I sink lower into my pillows, memories swirl inside my mind until I’ve conjured up an image of him. I can almost feel his dominating presence hovering over me, his masculine scent tickling my nose as his deep voice rumbles in my ear.

Just picturing those piercing eyes on me as his large hands skim the naked apex between my thighs does things to my libido that I can’t put into words.

The already persistent pulse skyrockets to an even greater level. It’s dizzying and so damn tempting. I crave him more than anything and after a two-year drought, my need is impossible to ignore.

In a moment of weakness, my knees fall open and my right hand drops down to find my painfully engorged clit slick with desire. With my left hand pinching my nipple, I begin mimicking Andrew’s actions from my dream last night.

Drawing lazy circles against the distended nub, I smear juices from my opening up and down. When the area is coated in my natural lubricant, I pick up the speed of my strokes, working myself to a wondrous peak stopping right before I take the plunge. My legs are literally shaking from the anticipation, but I don’t let myself come. I need to draw this out and enjoy every second of it.

Teasing myself, I give my hardened nipples a rough pinch and moan at the pleasurable pain. Bringing my other hand to my lips I suck my fingers into my mouth, tasting my own arousal.

Goose bumps prickle my sensitive skin and the groan that escapes me is guttural.

“Fuck, yes…”

When my fingers are good and drenched, I trail my hand back down my quivering abdomen and to my waiting sex. I slap my palm against my clit and imagine that it’s Andrew’s rock hard cock slapping against my tender mound.

I need to feel him inside me and I know my fingers won’t do. Pulling open the drawer of my nightstand, my hand searches aimlessly until I find just what I’m looking for. My old buddy and Ronaldo’s best friend, Cristiano.

With my fingers wrapped around the thick dildo, I slip it between my folds as my eyes slide shut. The toy stretches me deliciously and I grind my hips into the movement, wanting every inch inside of me as soon as possible.

When it’s shoved inside of me to the hilt, my moans fill the air as I get used to the fullness.

“Fuck me, Andrew,” I groan desperately, wishing I had him right here in my bed with me.

But I have to make do with Cristiano in Andrew’s absence because if I don’t come I might just explode at some inopportune time and embarrass myself.

Using rapid thrusts, I pump the length of it into me repeatedly chanting Andrew’s name all the while.

I picture his hips thrusting into me almost violently and my voice is ragged when I call his name again.

“Yes, just like that,” I cry out as a scorching ball of fire settles in the pit of my stomach, the heat threatening to spread.

I’m gonna fucking come.

“Ah, fuck.”

The motions of my hands grow more and more frantic, pushing me steadily to my undoing. My toes curl into the sheets, anticipating my release. I can feel my body temperature rising with each passing second.

I’m climbing that mountain, ready to reach the climax, until the sound of a heavy fist pounding on my door knocks me off that path.

Without thinking, I fling Cristiano across the room and hear it collide with my lampshade as I hide under the covers as if someone can see me. It feels as though I’ve been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

The sound comes again not even seconds later and my eyes narrow.

Who the hell is at my door at the butt crack of dawn?

My infuriating superintendent comes to mind and I’m hopping out of bed in no time. Ignoring the sad whimper from my lady parts, I pull on a robe and beat a hasty path to my front door.

This jerk is going to wish he’d stayed in bed today.

Tightening the robe around my waist, I yank open the door and my nasty words for my superintendent fall silent on my lips. Standing on my doorstep, looking sexier than anyone has the right to look, is my wet dream in human form.

And he’s smiling at me.