Page 71 of Burden of Proof

Do you want ME to come over?

My place is small and cramped.

If you don’t want me to come over, that’s okay, Lincoln.

I’m not feeling very myself.

And you don’t want help with that?

Let me get you a ride. Come over here and spend the night with me.

I want to watch this video with you next to me.

Heat burned my cheeks.

That sounds horrible.

Is that a limit?

My breath caught in my throat, a violent knot of emotion.

No, Sir.

Then send me your address, and I’ll arrange a ride. You don’t need to change out of your pajamas if you don’t want to.

Okay.

I sent him my address and rolled over onto my stomach, burying my face into a pillow and screaming. I had no idea if I was excited about this or terrified, if I was only uncomfortable from the unintentional pity party I’d had with Smith earlier, or lonely from the fact my time with Silas had been reduced to one a night a week. There’d been so much change in such a short time, and to say I felt lost was an understatement.

Patron saint of broken compasses and bad directions, even though I knew the way to Hunter’s by heart.

I pulled on a t-shirt and some sneakers, then shoved a change of clothes and my toothbrush into an overnight bag. I got everything together with two minutes to spare, and then there was a black town car on the street and a kind-looking driver who confirmed my name before opening the back door for me.

Was this how Julia Roberts felt inPretty Woman?

The ride to Hunter’s house went quickly, and as usual, his door was cracked open when I got there. He was still dressed for work, at least halfway, wearing not much more than dark gray slacks and a black leather belt. He had a mostly drunk glass of whiskey in his hand and a tilt to his head that spelled trouble forme. As soon as I closed the door behind me, he jerked his chin upward.

“Are you good?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Go into the bedroom and get naked,” he said. “Get on your knees.”

Heat tore up the length of my spine, and I only stumbled twice trying to get out of my sneakers in the entryway. Getting naked would be easy, considering I didn’t have any underwear on beneath the pajama pants to begin with. Hunter stayed still as I passed him, and I went into his bedroom alone, stripping out of my pajamas and going onto my knees in front of his bed.

Even though we’d been playing with this switch kind of dynamic, this was the first time Hunter had truly taken control without prompting, and the arousal was already a tangible and growing thing inside of me. Threading my fingers together at the base of my skull, I exposed myself fully and waited for Hunter.

When he made it to the bedroom, he had a fresh drink, same glass but a lot more clear, like he’d topped whatever he’d been finishing off with water. He took a sip of it before resting his ass against his dresser, facing me head on. I don’t know what I expected of him, and the nerves of trying to anticipate had me feeling all sorts of awkward. It seemed he could sense it, or worse, that he was okay with my discomfort. He waited me out until I’d exhausted myself of worrying, until my weight sank heavier down onto my heels.

Finally, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone, swiping through the screen until the sound of a shower filled the room. His mouth twitched in the corner, and he held his phone out for me.

“Hold this so I can see it,” he murmured.

I took the device and held it in front of my chest, screen out. Honestly, it was a relief he wasn’t going to make me watch it, butI was a little miffed he wanted to watch it when he had the real thing right in front of him. My body didn’t seem to care much, my dick jerking toward arousal at the sound of my own noises filtering out of the phone.

Hunter set down his drink, then with one hand, took off his belt and pulled down his fly. His cock was already hard, and he stroked himself with a rough, overhand pull from root to tip. I watched him quietly, ignoring my own erection while he stroked his, allowing my eyes to roam over his body while he focused his attention on the phone in my hand. It was a fucked-up kind of game, this little box between us, but I appreciated the tease of it, even as precum leaked from the slit of my cock.

About halfway through the video, his attention shifted from the phone to my face, his pupils blown into wide black pools. I desperately wanted to watch his hand move up his shaft, but it was impossible to look away from his chin quivering with pleasure right in front of me. I listened to myself finish, and Hunter was close himself but not quite there. He stroked himself faster, the sound of the shower the only thing left in the room, and then…