Get Stuffed

Andrew’s eyes are closed now, his muscles taut and straining. His hand moving so quickly that I know he must be close. I feel myself get wet, and tighten my legs together. But nothing can stop all the blood in my body from rushing to my face.

“Hmm.” My uncle narrows his eyes. “Are you all right, Naomi? You seem flushed. You’re not getting sick, are you?” He takes a step back, as if I might be contagious.

I laugh, a strangled sound. “It’s just the heat. I’m fine. Better than fine. Perfect.”

At that moment I see Andrew’s whole body jerk, and I see him come. Semen spills out over his fingers and onto my underwear. He continues to stroke his cock and he comes longer than I thought possible. The way his eyes are closed in ecstasy, the way his mouth has fallen open, is so sexy I’m practically coming myself, and I think my heart may have actually stopped. My uncle is definitely going to know something’s wrong now. I’m soaking wet and my mouth is dry and I don’t understand why that was so hot.

“Well, make sure you drink plenty of water,” my uncle says, backing further into the hallway. “And let me know when everything is catalogued.” He turns to leave, and I let out a sigh. “Oh, and Naomi,” he says, “watch out for Finch. The more I dig, the more I think he’ll do anything to get control of the firm.”

“I will, don’t worry. Careful is my middle name,” I say weakly.

He leaves without saying anything else, and I slump in my chair. I’m overheated and horny and exhausted. And angry. I hear a door shut somewhere in the house and I know my uncle has gone into his own room.

I turn to Andrew, who’s finally pulling on his pants. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“That you look hot when you’re flustered, and that we were interrupted. I didn’t want to let Roger ruin the fun.”

“Do you have any idea what would have happened had he walked in here?”

He takes a step toward me, and I feel my body react instinctively, wanting to be closer to him. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters. You may not have a lot to lose, but I do. Is what he said true? Are you just using me to take down my uncle and take over Grayson & Wates?”

Andrew frowns at me. “How did your uncle suddenly end up at the center of this? What he thinks and how he feels aren’t relevant to what just happened between us.”

“That’s a lawyer’s answer,” I say. “Because it doesn’t actually answer the question.”

His eyes narrow. “Naomi, did you like the sex?”

“Of course.”

He reaches out to grab my wrist and pulls, causing me to stumble up against him. It’s very hard to ignore the fact that he’s still half-naked, and that his lips are inches from mine. “Then why does anything else matter?”

My body protesting, I pull away. “Because it does.” He’s not smiling now, instead his face is stoic. I want to think he’s feeling hurt, but that’s not what I see. “You said you’d always tell me the truth. So tell me.”

“I am telling you the truth. I really don’t see how your uncle or his approval has anything to do with us having sex.”

Another non-answer. Maybe it really is true, and this is all a means to an end. “I need to take a shower. I have to catalog all those boxes downstairs and make sure everything we need made it here.”

He moves to kiss me and I turn my head. No. Not like this.

With a sigh, Andrew picks up his shirt and slips out the door. I hear his door close, and I let myself relax.

That’s when it hits me. I’m not a virgin anymore. I smile, and allow myself to bask in the memory of that for a moment. But no, if Andrew is using me as a tool to take over the company, nothing more is going to happen. No matter how hot he is, no matter how good the sex, I won’t let my uncle’s company be taken over because of me. Even if my uncle is harsh, and an ass most of the time, he’s still the only family I have left.

I close the door to the room and start getting ready for a shower. I wasn’t lying, I do need one. A cold one.

As I’m heading to the bathroom, I see my underwear on the floor where Andrew was standing. They’re crumpled into a ball, and I can still see his come on them. I’ll just throw them away. It’s probably easier. As I pick them up, I think about how he took them and licked them like I was the best taste in the world. My pussy clenches in response. If he thinks I taste that good, I wonder what he tastes like…

It would be so easy to find out.

Before I can think about it more I lift them to my mouth and lick, drawing his come into my mouth. It’s still warm. A little salty, a little sweet, and not at all unpleasant. I swallow, and feel like I’ve just done something dirty…and hot. I take another taste, because if I have to give Andrew up, this might be my only chance. I stroke my tongue along my panties a third time before I throw them away.

I rush into the bathroom, so turned on that I’m desperate for the cold water of the shower. But I know deep down that it’s not going to be enough. I get into the shower and before I can even feel the temperature I’m bringing myself to orgasm, moaning softly as I do. But now that I’ve had the real thing, this feeling will never be the same.

6

The next morning, I wake up early, eager to drive back to the city and avoid seeing Andrew. I don’t want it to be awkward.

Granted, it would be less awkward if I had never fucked him in the first place, but I can’t say that I regret that. I close my door softly, and head down the stairs. I grab a banana from the fruit bowl in the kitchen, and my keys where I left them on the counter last night. I have my bag, have everything.

The door to the patio opens, and in comes Andrew, coffee in hand. I can feel the blood drain from my face, and even though he’s smiling, I bolt. I walk as quickly as I can to the front of the house and out, get into my car and start it. I think he might follow me, but the door to the house remains shut. I turn the car around and start to drive, putting on my most energetic playlist in an attempt to keep me distracted from my own thoughts.

Because it’s so early there’s little traffic, and I make good time back into the city. The building is quiet, and I go to my little office to wait until the ten a.m. messenger delivery. My uncle wants me to make copies of the discovery—why is it always copies?—for several of the partners. After that I’ll head back out to the estate for the client meeting.

I use the time to read some of the files from the Sterling murder. If I’m going to be helping out on it, I need to know more. There was no sign of forced entry into the mansion, but Mrs. Sterling was strangled to death. There was a sign of significant struggle inside the room where she was killed—the bedroom. In the first interviews, Mr. Sterling said he had no idea who could have done this. He admitted he had plenty of enemies in the corporate world, but didn’t know of any who would resort to murder. He swore he wasn’t in the house. They had a fight and he went for a drive, but the security system doesn’t show him leaving when he says he did.

I get absorbed in the details of the case, memorizing what I can, and soon the alarm on my phone is going off, telling me it’s ten o’clock.

The messenger is right on time, and thankfully the file isn’t as large as the ones from that first day. I don’t think this one is going to break the copier. At least I hope not.

And it doesn’t. The copying goes smoothly, and I have the packets prepared in record time. I put them into the office mail slot to be picked up, and take a breath. At least today is going to plan. So far so good. I’ve avoided Andrew, and successfully completed my first task. Coffee. I need coffee.

Unlike most offices, this place has amazing coffee. The espresso machine kicks major ass, and I deserve some of that goodness in my life before I drive another two hours. The coffee room is actually my favorite place in the entire firm. It’s warm and welcoming with deep armchairs, mahogany bookcases, and rich colors. There’s nearly always people in here reading files or taking a break, but I get lucky. Since it’s still early in the day the room is empty

.

I take my time making my favorite kind of coffee, and find the largest travel cup I can. I’m pouring the coffee into the cup when I hear the door open behind me. I hold back a sigh. It was only a matter of time before someone came in.

“This was the second place I looked.”

The coffee splashes over the edge of the cup and I bite my lip to keep from cursing.

“The first was the copy room,” Andrew says as I mop up the spilled coffee.

“Oh? Well I guess you just missed me in there.” Don’t look at him. Don’t engage. Don’t want him.

Pfft. Fat chance of that.

I feel him come up behind me. “You left before I could even say good morning.”

“I had to get on the road.” I snap a lid onto the coffee cup.

“Hmm…I thought it might have something to do with the fact that you think I’m a despicable person.”

I turn around to face him, letting my anger into my voice. “I didn’t say that.”

Oh, turning around was a big mistake. Because now I can see him in his perfectly cut suit, and now that I know what’s under it I’ll never be able to look at him the same way. He steps toward me, blocking me in with his arms on the counter. He always seems to try to keep me from running. But I suppose that’s my fault since I’m the one who’s always running.