“Eat your food,” he repeated.
I rolled my eyes, but complied, because it wasn’t worth the argument. Plus, I wanted the food anyway. The chefs at this retreat were outstanding, but I had no idea where they were even making the food. “Where do you think they get this food? Is someone cooking in a cabin around the corner?”
“Probably.” Cade shrugged, completely bored with the topic of conversation. “Coffee is on the counter for you.”
“Oh! Thank you.” I hopped up to grab it and search for the sugar.
“Already added the sugar, Izzy. I bet it’ll taste as good as Rodney’s.”
So, he’d been listening to everything I said the night before. I took a sip and let him have this one. “Tastes even better.”
He couldn’t hide the way the corners of his mouth lifted a bit as I sat back down. Then, he sent me a file to work on, and we typed away for the next hour in silence. At some point, my back started to hurt from sitting on the wooden bench, so I grabbed my laptop to go work in bed.
First, I changed into some jean shorts and a blouse for team building later. I wasn’t sure if they’d have me talk about JUNIPER, and I wanted to appear semi-professional.
After a minute or two of diving into more emails, I got a message on my computer screen.
Cade: Why did you leave the table?
Me: I had to change, and it’s more comfortable in bed.
Cade: You’re going to fall asleep instead of work.
Me: I’m not. I work in bed sometimes. I feel like it gives me a different perspective.
Cade: Seems like a dangerous place to be.
Me: Why?
Cade: Because it only takes a second for your cabin partner to slide between your legs or for your hand to wander where it shouldn’t.
Me: Don’t start. We have work to do.
Cade: I stopped working the moment you told me you were in our bed.
Me: Technically, one half of the bed is yours. The other half is mine. It’s very clear from the spray-painted line.
Cade: Line seems a bit blurry to me.
Me: Leave me alone.
Cade: Why did you change?
Me: Because we have a team-building event in ONE hour.
Cade: What are you wearing?
Me: Just a blouse and shorts.
Cade: Can your hand slip into those shorts easily?
Cade: If it can, be sure to let me know how wet that pussy is for me.
Sexting and digital play was something I thought would never turn me on but having Cade message me from the other room had me pretty much soaked. Especially when I pictured him sitting at that table with those strong fingers typing away, black ink under his rolled-up sleeves, and the veins protruding from his forearms.
I pressed the ignore button on my messenger app and tried to stay on task. But I couldn’t help myself once he’d put the idea there. My hand roved over my jean shorts, and I pushed the seam of the fabric back and forth between my legs.
He caught me like that, my eyes closed and a soft gasp escaping my lips. I jumped, and my laptop almost went flying. Cade had padded quietly down the hallway and leaned on the doorframe with those fucking glasses. “No need to stay quiet, Izzy. I like the sound you make when your pussy is being played with.”