With a Twist (Last Call #4)(28)

"Enjoy," Lance says, and then I hear his shoes quietly whispering over the carpet. I don't turn to see him leave but instead watch Wyatt's gaze as he follows Lance's movement. I hear the office door open, then close again, and we are alone.

Wyatt's eyes slide to mine, and I expect to see relief that Lance is gone. Instead, his face is awash with regret.

His hands come up to clasp on either side of my head, and he pulls me up as he leans down toward me. I'm stunned when his mouth comes down on mine, and he gives me a swift kiss. His lips are velvety against mine, and lust courses through me. I open my mouth, but all too quickly, he pulls back and sticks his lips near my ear.

"I'm sorry," he says in the barest whisper that I almost can't hear him.

"Me too," I whisper back. "Thank God he's gone and we don't have to-"



       
         
       
        

"No," he says urgently, still in a voice so low that it sounds like it's being carried away on the wind. "I'm sorry because there's a camera over your shoulder. He's watching us."

"What?" I breathe out in surprise while Wyatt moves his lips across my skin. I realize he's hiding his mouth so Lance can't see what he's saying to me.

"He's testing me as well."

And understanding slaps me silly.

He's watching to make sure that Raze is fully on board with showing dominance over the women here. He's making sure that Raze has no problem in taking advantage of me …  of abusing me.

My mind is spinning and then spins harder when Wyatt brings his mouth back to mine. Another hard kiss and then he's murmuring softly against my lips. "Listen closely …  the camera is to your back so if you bend over my lap, we can fake this. He can't hear us …  just see us. Your hair and the camera angle will hide what you're really doing. It's time for both of us to put on a performance. Just follow my lead and fucking fake it."

I take in everything he says to me in a mixture of part relief, part disappointment, but ultimately acceptance as this is the best thing possible so that boundaries aren't crossed. I nod and before I know it, Wyatt's hands move to my hair where he grips my head roughly.

He pushes down on my head, and I know that his face is visible to the camera again because he clearly says, "Time to put that mouth on my cock, baby."

This is said with another low murmur, as it's doubtful that Lance is at the door listening. Instead, he's in the security room watching the silent feed on this office's camera, but if he's adept at reading lips, Wyatt is giving him what he wants.

I bend my head down toward Wyatt's lap and my long hair floats all around me, shielding my face and Wyatt's cock that's sitting inches from my lips. It's dusky with a thick vein running along the bottom, and I feel terrible that Wyatt is suffering right now.

Bringing my right hand over, I slip it under the curtain of my hair and lay it on his pelvis, so that it looks like I've taken him in my grasp. I bend over further, and it's my hope that as Lance watches, he thinks I've taken Wyatt deep into my mouth.

I start a fluid bobbing motion with my head, keeping my eyes wide open so I don't actually make contact with Wyatt's skin. I watch that beautiful cock come close to my lips, then get further away as I raise my head. He shifts slightly under me, and I can imagine his head is thrown back. His hands tighten in my hair, and he actually exerts slight pressure to help keep me from touching him.

My heart thumps with exhilaration that we are pulling this ruse off, and with a weird, achy need for something more to happen. I also feel tremendous guilt that, while this is hard on me, Wyatt is the one with the straining erection that isn't going to get a damn bit of relief. 

I bob up and down, and in my zeal to put on a star performance, I push down a little too hard and my chin grazes against the tip of his shaft. Wyatt hisses …  almost as if he's in pain, and my body freezes. I raise my eyes even as his fingers dig sharply into the back of my neck and side of my head.

His look catches me off guard, and the oxygen is pulled from my lungs. His eyes are filled with lust and frustration, yet he says to me softly, "You're doing great, baby. Keep going."

Anger, guilt, shame, and fury roll back through me again, and I am pissed that Wyatt is being made to suffer this travesty.

"This isn't working," I whisper.

"Sure it is," he says through gritted teeth, pushing back down on my head so I can resume my ruse. "Just a little more and I'll fake the world's biggest orgasm."

"I'm sorry," I murmur, and our eyes lock. I hope he can see how truly, truly sorry I am for what I'm getting ready to do.