I will. For you. I will.
I will too, I type back slowly with my left hand as my right hand plunges between my thighs. I rock against my hand, trying to find my center. The phone clatters to the dining room table as I shift my weight, riding my hand against the dining room chair, shameless and desperate, pushing myself farther until I come, breathless, overwhelmed.
My heart beat pounds in my ears for a long time as my body slowly comes off the high. It's a long time, sort of dreamy state. I eventually remember to be embarrassed, then remind myself I'm alone. Nobody can see me. There's no reason to be embarrassed. Still, it doesn't seem quite right to be doing this in my dining room, by myself, just staring at my phone.
And yet, would I have done it any other way? I barely know what's happening to me. I'm so turned on that I’m not even acting like myself, and I can't wait to find out what's going to happen next.
Chapter 12
August
Her lips are pink and wet, parting slowly as her tongue slips out to moisten her lower lip. She watches me cautiously, her gaze a challenge, her posture confident and direct.
Far off, a ringing. A series of chimes. She comes closer. Her lips move, but I'm not sure what she's trying to say to me. She is smiling, though, so I don't think I need to leave. I can stay. I think it's all right.
In slow motion, she shakes her hair out of its braid. It falls over her shoulders in sparkling waves, moving at the end like tentacles, like it's in a breeze of some kind. The ends move and move, stroking her shoulders. I almost feel that.
I don't go anywhere, but she comes to me. She falls on her knees in front of me. Her smile is welcoming. Her tongue is pink and wet, begging for me. Her fingers slide up my thighs, taking my cock at the base, squeezing. She squeezes until I'm hard, directing me toward her open mouth, sliding the head of my cock over her curving tongue. It's so hot, so impossibly hot. She tells me she wants more. She tells me she wants all of it. Her lips close over my cock, sucking and licking at the same time, swirling around the head, her fingers drumming on the sides of my shaft, beating out a rhythmic chime.
A chime.
Slowly I realize that my phone is ringing in real life. It's not just a dream, and not something that I should be ignoring. I force myself to wake up, to leave behind the beautiful creature with my cock in her mouth. With a groan, I roll over and pick the phone up off the nightstand. Melanie Howard.
Shit.
“Good morning, Melanie,” I grunt into the phone, hoping that I sound more irritable than sleepy. “What can I do for you?”
“You could do your job for starters, August,” she hisses, her voice grating on my nerves immediately. “Remember your job? What am I even paying you for?”
“You're not paying me. Kirkman is paying me.”
“Whatever! I thought you were supposed to be an expert or something. How does this keep happening?”
“Okay, calm down,” I start, push myself to a sitting position on the side of the bed. “What are you even talking about?”
“He's trending again, August. Somebody has more pictures! How do they even get them?”
“You sure?”
“Of course I'm sure!”
I stand up, arching my back to stretch before opening my laptop and checking my aggregator.
Holy shit, she's right. How did I miss this?
Apparently, late last night, somebody started posting more pictures of Kirkman. I've got thirty alerts from different sources: Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, Google. And it's still pretty early. This could totally blow up by lunchtime.
“Are you see what I'm seeing?” she continues. Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard.
“Are you on it?” I ask her. “Can you get it taken down?”
“I tried!” she huffs. “No response this time, August. It’s totally out of control. Do something!”
“I have to let you go, Melanie. I’ll call you back.”
“When? August? Answer me.”
Shit. Whoever did this was on a mission to get a heap of exposure. The pictures are more obvious than before.