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“Too many.” This is the way I’ve let our conversations go. I give her just enough rope to lead us through one of these calls so Leanne and Sam can use the third access point to gain access into Devil’s Lair’s system to plant the code we need to.
Soon all this pretense will be over. After tonight, I pray we’ll have all the access we need. Thank fucking God. I feel so dirty after having these conversations knowing the only woman I want like this is my Fallon.
Mine.
God, I love her.
Closing my eyes, my head tips back, and I tell the target, “Why don’t you share one of your favorites with me?”
“If you want.” She hesitates. “We’re at a party.”
I smirk. “A party? That’s your fantasy?”
“Hush. All the men are dressed but the women are wearing scraps of satin and lace.”
I immediately visualize Fallon in the sexy lace she sent me the photo of by accident. “Intriguing. Keep going.”
“You don’t notice me. You never do. I don’t know if that’s because I’m younger than you or because you’re just not interested.”
A tingle of awareness pricks at the base of my neck even as my cock stirs to life at the familiarity of the scenario. Despite wanting to step back from the situation that’s growing increasingly uncomfortable by the second, I can’t stop Filia from going on. “Suddenly, the heel I’m wearing catches in the edge of the stone and I just know I’m going to pitch forward.”
“What do I do?” My words come out as a rasp. I shake my head. It has to be a coincidence.
Right?
“You’re chivalrous. It’s in your nature, despite how depraved you love being with me. You catch me up in your arms and deposit me on the lounger to make certain I’m not injured.” She pauses. “That’s when you notice what I’ve put on. I wore it especially for you, but I’m not certain you’ve seen me before this moment. If nothing else, my inherent clumsiness has garnered me your attention. I can’t say I hate it.”
“Are you okay?”
She makes a pfft sound. “My ankle is sore, but you’re touching my leg. Caressing it. Pain is the furthest thing from my mind. What I want you to do is to spread my legs apart and take what you’re so clearly hungry for.”
I swallow hard at the scene playing out in my head despite the klaxon of bells going off. “And what’s that?”
“What’s covered by a scrap of green lace.”
“I obviously don’t do that?”
“No,” her voice is riddled with amused disgust. “Instead you check on the food to make certain my tumble hasn’t ruined the masterpiece of a cake and appetizers. I push you aside and tell you I’ll do it since I’m the one who helped set it up in the first place.”
Bile rises in my throat but I choke out, “And is it? Did you make a mess, Filia?”
“Not yet.” Her voice is coy.
“What did you say, little girl?”
“I said, not yet. Not until you come up behind me when I’m straightening out the precisely lined napkins and you smooth your hands up the back of my thighs.” There’s a slight pause before, “I feel the heat of your body through your thin dress shirt, the buttons pressing into my back.”
“And my hands? What are they doing?” I taste the salt of my tears on my cheeks.
“One of them is fiddling with the lace of my bra before you ask me if I bought it for you—I did, by the way. The other is plucking at my nipple as I buck my hips back against you.”
My dick is spike hard despite myself. I toss back some more whiskey and wait knowing no one is better at this than she is. After all, night after night when we FaceTime, it isn’t just the sight of her gorgeous body that gets me off.
It’s her mind. Only superseded by her treacherous, disloyal heart.
“Soon, you’re fighting with your pants enough to let out your rock-hard cock. You drag it over my thong…”
“Your set is a thong?”