“Good. I want you to slip your hand into the front of your panties and tell me how good it feels.”
“I can’t,” I say softly.
“Brielle.” His tone is firm, and a pang of regret hits me. I don’t like disappointing this man. “Would it help if you knew I had my cock in my hand, and it’s rock hard and aching? All I can think about is your tight little cunt squeezing me.”
My body clenches at his words. It shouldn’t, but the luxurious opulence of the bathroom is inviting. If Hale were here, he’d lift me onto the marble counter, push my skirt up my thighs, and fuck me hard and fast while I held on to his solid biceps and shoulders. It’s an enticing thought.
“I do miss your cock,” I admit softly.
He makes a small sound of approval, and I’m urged on. This is wicked and naughty and so very wrong, but I don’t care.
I glance out one last time. My clients are admiring the built-in cabinets on the far wall.
“Brielle?” Hale groans, the need evident in his voice.
I want to please him. I want the release that would come with touching myself, but at the last moment, sanity steps in. There’s no way I can do this. But I know refusing him would be a bad idea. I turn on my most sultry voice and whisper, “Oh, that feels good.”
I hope he can’t tell I’m completely faking it. I open the door and peek out at Matt and Sarah, and give them the thumbs-up sign.
“That’s a good girl,” he says softly, clearly pleased with my performance. “I want you to take a picture of your wet pussy with your fingers buried inside, and text it to me.”
“What are the monthly association fees for this building?” Sarah asks, wandering closer.
“What the fuck was that?” Hale asks, obviously pissed off at my little performance.
“Um, I have to go,” I squeak out and hang up the phone.
With my heart slamming erratically against my ribs and my face flushed, I do my best to complete the tour, showing off all the features of the unit, then cover the community features and association costs.
Their interest is obvious, and Sarah squeezes her husband’s hand under the table as if to say, this is the one.
A knock at the door interrupts us and I excuse myself to answer it, wondering if the agency double-booked a showing today.
When I open the door, Hale strides inside as if he owns the place, dressed in a navy suit, crisp shirt, and striped tie.
“Are you almost through?” he asks, gliding past me without so much as a hello or explanation.
“Uh…yes,” I manage, trailing after him as quickly as my high heels will allow.
He stops at the dining table where my clients are seated. “Thank you for coming today. If you could see yourselves out, Brielle will be in touch later this afternoon.”
They share a confused look, but Sarah shrugs. “Okay, we’ll talk later.”
My professionalism returning, I follow them to the door, handing them the packet of information I prepared. “Thank you for coming. I think City View has everything you guys have been looking for. I’ll be in touch.”
As soon as the door closes, I spin on my heel to face Hale, hot anger rising up inside me. “This is my job! You can’t just show up like this.”
He stalks closer, his dark eyes pinned on mine, and doesn’t stop until my back is pressed against the wall. “We had an agreement. I told you that I would push you outside of your comfort zone, test you and challenge you. I didn’t force this arrangement on you. You agreed, heartily. I’m only following through with my end of the deal.”
I’m about to ask him how he knew where I was, and then I remember that I told him when he called. My anger subsides just a fraction. I was pretty much through with my meeting anyway, and based on my clients’ reaction to seeing the drop-dead gorgeous man in front of me, there’s been no real harm done.
“You need to be punished for that little stunt you pulled earlier. Making my dick hard and swollen like that…” He makes a grunting sound of disapproval, and my pulse spikes. I can read the need written all over his features, in his tight posture. The need to punish me is flaring inside him, and that excites the fuck out of me. What’s happening to me?
“I’m sorry, sir.” I blink up at him, my eyes communicating my own need.
“What should we do to settle this?” His firm hands settle on my waist, making my belly twist with nerves.
Boldly, I reach down between us, my hand curling around the weight of his shaft, that even soft, is heavy in my hand. “I could take care of this,” I offer.
His eyes sink closed for a moment, and I feel him begin to harden against my palm. When he opens his eyes again, his perfect control is back. “Would you like that, pet?”