I hide my smirk, pulling a frown, instead. Muting the phone, I growl, “Did I say you could stop?”
She catches on and immediately turns the tables, opening her mouth wide and taking me so deeply that the head of my cock touches the back of her throat. I struggle to choke back the groan that rises, thrusting my hips forward and nearly convulsing on the chair.
“Sammy’s not answering his phone. He’s becoming a huge fucking problem.”
“I’ll call him,” I manage to say.
I barely hear my brother’s answer as Sophie deep-throats my cock like a porn star. Unable to take it, I pick up the wooden spoon from the table, lean forward, and pop her lightly a few times on the ass. She pulls her mouth off and covers her ass with her hands, sitting back on her haunches with a wide, satisfied grin. I shake the spoon at her as I realize my brother’s waiting for me to answer.
“What’s that?”
“Carmen invited Sophie to Angela’s baby shower, but she hasn’t heard back.”
I mute the phone again and haul Sophie up to stand between my legs, giving her five rapid-fire strokes with the spoon. She gasps and bites her lips to keep from making any sound. Patting her reddened cheeks with the spoon, I say, “Carmen wants to know if you’re coming to Angela’s baby’s shower.”
“Um, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there.” She drops out of her glassy-eyed submission, and I wish to hell I hadn’t broken the spell.
“She’ll be there.” I end the call with my brother and wag the spoon at her. “On your knees, little girl.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t know ifsirreally fits me,” I muse, rocking my hips forward when she grasps the base of my cock.
“How about ‘master’? No, no, I’ve got it—Bossman.”
I grin. “Bossmanworks—oh,God.You are so good at that.”
I see the stretch of a smile on the lips gliding over my cock before I close my eyes to sink into her ministrations.
ChapterFourteen
Sophie
I bend over the toilet and throw up my breakfast. Again.
Gah. My stomach’s been a mess for a few days. I must’ve eaten something bad.
I hear the jingle of the bells on the door to the studio sound. Good thing Joey is my next client. “I’m back–” I heave again.
Ugh. Embarrassing. And disgusting. I quickly rinse my mouth out with water from the sink as Joey appears in the open doorway to the bathroom.
“Babygirl, are you sick?” He touches the back of his hand to my forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”
My head feels fuzzy, and I’m really tired. I gaze up at him through bleary eyes. “Yeah, I guess. I’ve had an upset stomach for a few days. It seems to be getting worse.”
“Aw, baby. What the hell are you doing here? You’re sick, angel.”
“I just have one client after you, and I can go home and rest.”
“Fuck that. Call your client and cancel. I’m taking you home.”
I groan. I absolutely hate to cancel on clients. A lot of them won’t reschedule, and I really need to keep all of them. I barely have enough to stay afloat. “No, I really can’t cancel.” I glance at the appointment scheduler on my tablet. I have four massages scheduled for tomorrow and three the next day. Getting sick isn’t an option.
Joey picks it up. “Come on, let’s go,” he says firmly, opening the door. “Get in the car.”
I feel crappy enough not to argue. In fact, having someone strong-willed make this decision for me comes as a relief. I turn docile, following Joey out of the office, standing there fuzzy-headed as he takes my keys to lock up.
“Come on,bella. Let’s get you home to bed.” He leads me to his car and opens the door for me, handing me in like a gentleman.