It was Friday and Jude hadn’t touched me since Monday morning, when I overheard him and Michaela’s conversation about the arranged marriage. I couldn’t believe it, and yet I couldn’t even complain to him about it because I had no right. He wasn’t mine.

He looked at me—no, more like stared—but he didn’t touch. I couldn’t blame him for the ogling. Though I was bothered and curious, the outfits I wore to work were anything but conservative. I wanted him to touch me. To tease me—to do anything to me. I was tired of waiting for Sundays to arrive.

I decided to work late that Friday and catch up on a few things so I wouldn't have to come in early the next day. Though Jude was always on my mind, I had to find a way to distract myself from him somehow, so when the time came that he was married to Michaela, I wouldn’t be so heartbroken and would actually have someone to fall back on.

I’d downloaded a few dating apps on my cellphone a while back to see if it would occupy me and it did, for the most part.

Most of the men were very strange. Most were pervs who only wanted to see my boobs. Some even asked for vagina pictures. It was gross, and just as I was about to ditch the apps and return back to my normal Jude-obsessed life, I got an interesting notification on Tuesday. It was a message from a really handsome guy.

I knew not to just look at the surface, but to dig deeper. We messaged throughout the week, chatted often, and he seemed very nice. He’d even sent images of himself while working, just to prove he was real.

His name was Tyler and he wanted to meet Friday night, and since it was a public place and I had nothing to hide, I was down for it. But to be safe, I told my best friend, Carrie, to tag along and to bring her boyfriend for backup. He wanted to meet at a bar and grill where they would be having taco and tequila night, which sounded like it was exactly what I needed.

If we were going to be drinking tequila, I didn't want to have to come strolling into work earlier than I needed to with the possibility of a hangover. It was best to finish everything I had to do now so I could clock in late. Fortunately, Mr. Clement didn’t mind me coming in later on Saturdays. He was usually out of the office anyway.

Excited for the night to begin, I finished organizing the folders for Mr. Clement and then I checked my cell for the time. It was nearing 6:00 p.m. My date was at 8:00 p.m.

Before I could take the folders to the filing cabinet, Jude's office door swung open and he stepped out with his fingertips buried in his front pockets.

"Come into my office before you go, Miss Taylor," he said, turning his back before I could even respond or tell him I was in a hurry and had somewhere to be.

With a heavy sigh, I put the folders down and walked into his office. He was standing in front of the wide floor-to-ceiling window now, where a view of the ocean wasn't too far off.

"You've been smiling at your phone all week," he said, glancing over his shoulder.

“Yeah, so?" I frowned a little.

"Who have you been talking to?"

"A friend?"

"What friend?"

"A guy," I said, realizing this was my chance to rub it in his face. He had Michaela and I had a date. There was no rule saying I couldn't date in between my Sunday fucks. Plus, I wanted him to realize he wasn’t the only guy I talked to.

"A guy," he repeated, turning to look at me. He scanned me with icy eyes.

“Yes, Jude, a guy. It’s a date. Though you never arrange them with me, I’m sure you’ve heard of those.”

He chuckled lowly, like he was truly amused by this. "This...guy..." He pointed a finger at me, stepping closer. "Does he know you’re getting fucked by your boss every Sunday?"

My heart stumbled over the next beat, surprised by his sentence that was so lax, but still packed one hell of a punch.

"No, of course not," I answered quickly, as not to seem too dumbfounded.

"Of course, he doesn't," Jude mumbled, coming closer. The gap between us was closing and my breath became sticky in my lungs. When Jude was right in front of me, I noticed how serious his eyes were, how he seemed slightly agitated with me but was trying to keep his cool all at once.

"Does he know that when I eat your pussy, I sometimes slide a finger in your ass and it makes you come in a matter of seconds?"

"Jude," I warned as his chest bumped against mine.

"Does he?" he asked with soft demand.

"No. I just met him, Mr. Clement," I whispered, taking a small step back.

Jude tilted his head to look me over again. Then he bumped against me until my back was against the wall and his hand was on my shoulder.

"Don’t ‘Mr. Clement’ me. I'm tired of this fucking game. Get on your knees," he growled, and I slowly sank into a squat, leaning forward and letting my knees hit the marble. While I did, Jude unbuckled his belt and then undid his pants.

I looked down, swallowing. He was hard. So hard. He pulled his thick, beautiful cock out and I looked up, meeting blue eyes.

"Open your mouth," he commanded, and as badly as I wanted to tell him no, I couldn't. I wanted to taste him. I'd wanted him all week long. Plus, when it came down to this—to having any kind of sex with him—I always obeyed. I submitted. God, I loved to submit and he most definitely loved to control.

I dropped my chin and before I could get comfortable, Jude shoved himself into my mouth, groaning ravenously when the head of his cock hit the back of my throat. I couldn't help but gag around him as he planted his palms on the wall inches above his head, and started a hard, quick thrust into my mouth.

"You can go on your little date, Jenna," Jude groaned. "But just remember that your pussy—this mouth—is mine. All mine." He thrust again, and my eyes watered, but I relaxed my throat and let him fuck my mouth. I realized this wasn’t to please me. It was to please him. I had no idea why, but I wanted to finish the job.

"Shit," he sighed, driving in again. "Look up at me," he ordered.

I looked up and his eyes flamed blue.

"You'll see him," he murmured, dropping a hand and stroking my hair back, "but you'll only be thinking about me. He'll try to take what's mine...but you won't let him. Will you?"

I shook my head.

His nostrils flared when I swirled my tongue around the tip of his cock. He pulled out, showing off his hard, full length, and then shoved himself back in again, grabbing my head with both hands and fucking my mouth faster. The tears tipped over. I could feel them running down my cheeks—could hear myself gagging around him, but I loved this. No, wait. I hated it. Shit, I didn’t know what I liked. Who was he to get upset about my date when he was tied up with Michaela? Even with these thoughts, I still didn’t want to stop pleasing him.

"I know you won't let him...because he isn't me." He looked down again. "Fuck, look how sexy you look with my cock in your mouth." He stiffened then, watching my eyes for a brief moment before focusing on the lips sealed around his cock. "Shit, Jenna. I'm about to come."

With those words in the air, Jude stilled and unleashed a hard, course moan, coming in a matter of seconds. He filled my mouth, and I swallowed it all down like it was my favorite drink.

He pulled out after releasing a long sigh, jolting as I pushed forward on my knees and licked him clean.

"Damn, Jenna," he breathed. He stepped back and then reached down to grab my hand, bringing me to a stand. After a brief silence, he asked, "Are you going to fuck him?"

I watched his eyes, watched the curiosity burn deep in them. He really wanted to know.

"Why do you care? We only fuck, right?" I snapped at him, fixing my skirt and blouse, using the back of my hand to wipe the wetness off my mouth. “At least, that’s what you always tell me.”

He hesitated, lowering his gaze as I swiped the dampness beneath my eyes away.

“You’re right.” Stepping back, he fixed his pants and then shoved his fingers through his hair before giving me his back. "I will see you tomorrow, Miss Taylor.”

When he said that, I swear my heart almost failed me. I was hoping he'd prove me wrong—tell me I meant more to him than just a fuck—but it was obvious I didn't mean much to him at all.

I was just his secret Sunday fuck.

I turned and stormed out of his office without so much as a goodbye. After practically shoving the folders into the filing cabinet, I gathered my handbag and keys and headed for the elevator.

I boarded and before the doors drew to a close, I saw Jude standing in front of the window again, staring out of it. When the elevator chimed and the doors started to close, he looked over his shoulder and found my eyes.

And maybe I was crazy, still so goddamn delusional, but I saw something in them.

Something that both intrigued and confused me.

Disappointment.