Provoke

“Leets, I’m licking your pussy right now. My tongue is running along your entrance. God, you’re so wet. You taste so sweet, baby. So fucking sweet,” he gasped, his voice climbing higher.

Fuck. We were miles away, only a phone connecting us, and we were on the verge of orgasming together. It was impossible to put into words how intimate this moment was. My back arched as I began to climax.

“Ahh,” I groaned, thrusting my fingers deeper inside of me. My muscles tensed as both relief and ecstasy raced through me. I wanted more, but I couldn’t take it. If Mace were here, he would push me further to the brink, past what I thought I could handle, and into a whole other level of satisfaction. “Oh yes,” I hissed, bringing my foot back down to the floor, locking my fingers between my thighs, desperate to prolong the feeling for as long as I could.

“God, Leets. You had me blow my load all over the wall. That was unbelievable.”

I laughed, slumped over the desk, trying to recover. I glanced at my watch. Shit—I had fifteen minutes until I was due in court.

“I have to go . . . I have to somehow get myself together and try and win a case,” I said. I reached for the folder containing my notes, my hands shaking as I shuffled through them. I’m a mess.

?

??You’ll be fine,” he assured me. “If you get flustered, just imagine my head between your legs.”

“Shut up!” I giggled, hanging up the phone.

Chapter Two

Mace

Well, that had been a nice way to wake up. Who was I kidding? Every day started like that—the only difference was that this time Leets had been an actual participant, instead of a figment of my imagination. Picturing her in that office with her legs spread, exploring herself, had been fucking hot.

We have to do that more often.

I climbed out of bed and yawned, kicking aside the piles of worn clothes that blocked my trail to the door. I was still waking up, and in desperate need of a shower. I glanced down and nodded.

Yep, definitely need a shower.

Yawning again, I staggered down to the bathroom and ran the shower. The feel of the water hitting my skin was like an instant wake-up. I quickly soaped my body and rinsed off the suds before turning off the taps.

I probably should’ve gotten up half an hour ago, but oh well. It wasn’t my fault I got distracted. Wait—yes it was. I reached into the cupboard for a towel. Fuck. Empty. Glancing around, I picked up the cleanest-looking one off the floor.

Yeah, I should probably do some washing soon. Or buy some new towels.

Wandering back down to the bedroom, I turned on the coffee pot on the way past. As I got dressed, I called Finn to let him know I was running late.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’ll be a few minutes late. Just start without me, okay?”

“Already on it. And you’re always late, man.”

That was true. One of the perks of owning your own business was being able to rock up late and leave early. I ran a business fixing bikes from the back of a mechanic in the western suburbs of Melbourne. It wasn’t much compared to Leeta’s achievements, but it kept me busy and I spent the day doing what I loved: being elbow-deep in grease and motor oil.

I drank my coffee and downed a bowl of cornflakes—not hurrying as much as I probably should have—and then grabbed my keys and helmet. Walking out to the garage through the internal door, I zipped up my jacket and threw my helmet on.

Jumping on the bike, I started her up and took off down the street.

#

“This guy has called twice.”

I took the slip of paper from Finn, recognizing the number instantly. No phone contact. What the fuck was this, then? My stomach tightened as I nodded, trying my best to appear indifferent. Finn narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously.

Finn was an old friend who also knew his way around a bike. He’d been working for me since I’d started up this business, and he knew me well enough to know something was up.

“Just a debt I need to pay,” I explained, my tone making it clear I didn’t want any more questions. Finn nodded and shrugged.

“Hey man, it’s cool. We all have debts we need to pay,” he said, clicking his tongue. I watched him as he walked off, chuckling to himself, wondering what the hell he was talking about. I shook it off and studied the number again.