"Saw the pretty therapist today," he smirked.
"Oh."
Ignoring him, I went back to my screen. The amount of time I spent unsubscribing junk mail I received was ridiculous. It was one of my biggest pet peeves, and I couldn't stand to have any notifications on my phone showing red. It gave me hives if I couldn't delete something as soon as I saw it. On the other hand, Sax was one of those people who had over 5,000 emails unread. It was pure insanity.
"She looked nice today."
"Uh-hmm."
"Especially when I fucked her against her desk."
Snapping my head up, I stared at my friend, my jaw open and anger leaching into my face and voice. "You. Did. What?"
"Oh, nothing. I just wanted to get your attention. Not that it won't happen. You can't be the only one to know what she feels like."
"Excuse me! I haven't touched her," I scoffed, outraged at his claim.
"I thought this whole time you were just being smug. But you don't know, do you?"
When I gave him the ‘boss cold' stare, he only laughed more wholeheartedly, and I was ready to shoot him. This was the thing about having your life-long best friend as your second. I didn't intimidate him.
"Oh fuck, Mas. Can I record this? This is going to be epic. You remember the woman from the club?"
"Yes."
"Well," he gestured. I stared, not quite getting what he was meaning.
"If you're trying to say the woman that night and our Mrs. Carter are one in the same, you're fired."
"Come off it, Mas. You're only lying to yourself. It's her, and ever since that night at the club, my cock gets rock hard when I see her. Those moans she made, fuck."
He bites his knuckles, his eyes rolling back as he recalls the sensational way she'd looked and sounded that night. Memories flood me as I start to put the pieces together and my cock begins to grow hard as well, remembering how she'd grinded herself against me.
When I recalled how wet she'd been from watching the other couple on the floor, I groaned. Fucking hell, I'd been seconds away from slamming my cock into her right there. Into Immy's fucking therapist. My brain had finally put the pieces together and I hated that Sax was right and how much more I craved her now.
"She's Immy's therapist," I tried to deflect.
"Yeah, and that means jack shit to me."
His smirk was annoying me, and for the first time, I felt possessive over a woman. The realization shocked me, and I sat back staring at him. Did that mean something?
"What? You got a weird look on your face."
"I… I don't know. I just got annoyed with you a bit… and possessive, I think over Mrs. Carter. I don't know what to do with that, though, honestly."
Sax and I didn't keep things from one another. He was the one person I could be candid and authentic with. I didn't have to pretend to be this big bad mafia boss, someone who was tough and strong all the time. With Sax, I could just be, and that was the most freeing thing in the world. So, we didn't have secrets. It would ruin our bond and everything we had.
I’d convinced myself I wasn’t keeping one about my father.
At my statement, he sat up, a serious look crossing his face. "Do you… do you have feelings for her? Do you want me to step away?"
This was new to us both. I'd never attached myself to anyone, and we had often shared women if we found them attractive. Sometimes, together and other times, just sharing her company. So to feel possessive was an area we hadn't encountered before in our history.
"No. Don't be ridiculous," I brushed off. "It just surprised me. I mean, I barely know her, and it's not like I can bring her into this life," I stammered.
Sax looked at me oddly, like he was trying to decipher a complex code, and I had to admit, I was as well.
"Hmph," he muttered finally.