Overlooked(37)

I can feel myself slipping. It's so easy to give in to him, to his power. He commands the entire room with his presence, but this was so unexpected that I have no choice but to obey anyway.

He moves to my neck, biting and sucking while making my towel disappear. No longer cold, I'm burning hot and need him to stop the swell within me. I need Eric to touch me in all the most intimate places so I can get relief, relief, relief.

"Eric." I finally find my voice and fight against the growing need within me. "What are you doing?"

"Tell me to stop if I need to stop." He mutters against me. I'm thrust and lifted against the wall so he can take my breast in his mouth. He sucks hard and I gasp from the pain and heat of him.

"I-" The words die in my throat, because I can't speak. I'm naked, pressed against a wall, with my nipple between the teeth of the man I couldn't stop thinking about. Nothing within me, nothing, could tell him to stop.

He looks up at me with intense, heavy dark eyes. I have nothing to say but yes, please, now.

Eric carries me across the living room, his tongue massaging my nipple as he walks. My body illuminates under his touch. All I want is more. No talking, no thinking, just primal urges satiated in the candlelight of my apartment.

We bump into the couch arm and he sets me down, fingers digging into my skin as I move against him and the thickness in his pants. Eric spins me around and spreads my legs with one hand while the other cups my breasts. He draws circles across my inner thighs, leaving me lightheaded and dizzy at his touch.

He's so close to what I need and yet so far. The perfect metaphor of whatever fucked-up relationship it is we have.

The firm head of his cock presses against my opening and I cry out in desperation. I don't wait for him to tease or for him to find me. Reaching back, I guide him into me and engulf his cock with my wetness.

"You are a fever in my veins." he grunts as he thrusts into me.

Our first time together, we had sex for hours. After every orgasm, we kissed and licked and touched until he was ready to slip himself back inside me. Four hours passed, easily. Not once in that time did he fuck me the way he is now.

The intensity radiating out of him spills into the way he loves me with his cock. Because there is no other word for it in this moment. It's not a sweet love, it's not a cherishing love, it's dominating.

I'm a fever in his veins. The words send chills through my body and make everything heightened. I wasn't supposed to hear it, I know I wasn't. Eric Stevens doesn't show weakness around me. Tenderness, certainly. But not weaknesses.

I reach behind and give his balls a squeeze. He stops mid-thrust and groans, his head to my back. His breath is heavy because as much as he acts in control, he's desperate. And that is incredibly liberating. Sexy.

My hips grind against him and his fingers dig into my softness. He leaves a trail of hot kisses along the back of my neck and throws himself into me. I lose myself to the motion of our bodies. I stop thinking, stop breathing and just survive of the rhythm between us.

At some point there is a misstep and we topple sideways. He picks me up and presses me against the wall, his cock back inside me before I feel fully righted. This is more intimate than anything we've been in and my brain can barely comprehend it.

"You asked me once what I saw when I looked at you," Eric breathes against me. Our bodies continue in a perfect carnal dance but my chest tightens and my vision blurs. I can't hold out much longer against him like this. His voice tightens, like he's feeling the same thing. "The answer is perfection."

I am no longer Kate and he is no longer Eric. We are bodies of energy that fly apart and come back together as one.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ERIC



"So then I said, who do I look like, fucking Spielberg? And he said yes, that cheeky fuck! It was hilarious. Man, you had to be there. Next time I go to dinner with those boys, Eric, I'll give you a call. They'll all need someone like you on retainer, I'm sure." David wipes his eyes, finding his own terrible story hilarious.

They all do. All their stories are uninteresting and pathetic. All their stories revolve around being compared to someone else famous, someone clearly better than them, like a massive penis competition. Who has the bigger ego? Who has the bigger dick?

None of them. All their egos are as fragile as my old man's hairline and their dicks are tiny. It's why they cheat with young girls to begin with. They don't know any better.

"Let me buy you dinner. Tonight." David slams his palm down on my desk and jolts me out of the mental ass-beating I'm dishing out. "You look you could use a break, and maybe some pussy. One of my favorite spots? The girls, Eric! You wouldn't believe the girls."

I lean back in my very expensive leather desk chair and steeple my fingers before me. If I wore glasses, I'd take them off in a very dramatic fashion. Mental note: tell Sophie to order me some of those fake glasses Geoff always wears to court. They don't make him look smarter, but they would be a nice accessory when dealing with dipshits.

"David." I interrupt his stream-of-consciousness chatter about whatever club he wants to take me to. "I'm sure it's swanky as hell. But we've talked about this shit."

"But if my lawyer is with me." David's face splits in a stupid grin and he spreads his arms to match. He's like a crucified glutton who looks completely content with his lot in life. "Who can say no? I'm just taking a friend out, having a good time … "

"Looks like bribery." I don't move from my stoic, steepled pose. This is my Fuck Off and Get Serious pose, and McArthur has seen a ton of it lately. "Looks suspicious. It makes me look cheap and you look broke."

"I-" David's jaw flaps a bit. "But we both know that ain't true."

"Perception is everything. Which is why you are instructed to lay low."

"And I have been! I've been laid up in my big ass house, all alone. I mean, aside from the visitors, if you know what I mean."

"Goddammit, David." Pose broken. I massage a pulsating headache spreading across my temple. "You're trying to claim that you still have an active marriage. If you can't knock off this shit, the case is as good as dead. You thought I was kidding, man. I'll put you on goddamn house arrest if I have to, because-"

A very loud, obnoxious ringtone kicks off from David's pocket. Immediately, I want to throttle the guy into the atmosphere. He knows I have a very strict phone policy in my office. I lean across the desk and take it out of his pocket. It's turned off in two seconds, cutting the sound dead.

"See this shit? You know this shit isn't permitted in my office. You aren't a petulant child, David. You're thirty-six-fucking-years old. You are divorcing a beloved younger woman, who is widely known her for charity work and humanitarian efforts, because you can't keep it in your pants."

"I thought you said we were framing it as her having the affair." David swipes his phone back and turns it on. "That's what you said. Then I can look like I'm free."

"Because you told me she cheated, David." I say through clenched teeth. "You've been unable to provide any proof, which says you lied to me."

"I didn't lie." David holds his phone up at me like he's going to reprimand me with it. I seriously consider snapping it in two pieces. "I suspected. She was always gone, you know? Sure, she said it was some charity gala or event planning, but she always came home late and was in such a good mood after. We stopped having sex. She sometimes wouldn't even sleep in the same room. That screams affair, Eric. You just need to dig deeper."

Or she was trapped in a miserable relationship with a selfish asshole and hated being at home. I shake my head slightly to ditch the thought. I can't do this to myself. I can't sabotage the entire case because I like to fuck his ex-wife.

"So, come with me to dinner and-" The phone rings again. David grins like an idiot and stands up, a finger in my face before he goes to pace across the length of my office floor. "Brad! How's it going, baby? Did you get a chance to see the script? Sure, I can talk, I'm just with my lawyer. No, no. He can wait. I pay him enough to do what I say."

At this, David shoots me a wink.

His pacing takes him to the windows at the front of my office, with a great view of the city. He stands there, blabbing and bragging about some movie he's putting together, disrespectful as fuck. I swear to God, he acts like I have no other clients. Like he's the singular most important thing in my life right now.

Well, fuck ‘im.

Screw him. Overwhelmed with anger at him, I stealthily unzip my pants and pull my dick out under my desk. After a quick glance his way to make sure he's still acting like an ape, I pull up the file of Kate's topless photos on my laptop and two clicks later have a pretty solid hard-on. It's stupid the shit this girl does to me. She takes my mind off my stress and makes me do crazy shit.

Fucking her at her apartment did not pull her out of my system like I'd hoped. If anything, it sank me deeper, which is quickly becoming dangerous. For the moment, though, it paid off in spades.
   





 
I snap a quick shot of my dick in my hand, painfully thread it back into my pants, and send it to Kate with a quick note:

David is here. Thinking of you.

She'll probably hate me for it. Women are so finicky about the dick pick. If they're horny, they're happy for it. If they aren't, they get pissed. It's walking a fine line I don't usually have time to figure out.