Continuing to kiss my way down his body, I paused when I reached his cock. He groaned when I kissed it, featherlight. Then I licked him, this time with more force, before taking him fully into my mouth. He swore profusely.
“Really hard to keep thinking about those squats right now,” he grunted, hands fisting the sheets.
I moved down the entire length of him and back up, and a spurt of salty pre-cum filled my mouth. Man, he was never going to last ten minutes. I glanced at the clock.
12:07.
Sean reached down and pulled the tie from the end of my braid. He ran his fingers through my hair, freeing all the strands as I sucked him off. His warm palms cupped my face for a second, almost reverently, before clutching my hair in a tight fist. I looked up and our gazes locked. He cursed. My attention flicked to the clock again for the barest second.
12.09
“Jesus,” Sean grunt-gasped, his brow furrowing like he was concentrating really hard. I wanted to tell him to close his eyes like I’d instructed, but I was too foggy-headed with arousal and I couldn’t seem to manage it.
I let his cock fall from my mouth then licked up its length, cupping his balls. He groaned, the sensation rumbling up out of his chest.
“I can’t do this, Lucy. Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”
“Close your eyes. Think about those two hundred squats,” I told him shakily, because hearing him call me beautiful in that sexy gravelly voice had my knees going a little weak.
“I don’t want to close my eyes when I could be looking at you,” he whispered.
I took him in my mouth again, this time moving faster. His thighs tensed and his eyes flared, owning me with a single look.
God, I was done for. So completely done for.
He was beautiful. Despite all my plans and boundaries, my heart was clenching again with feelings I was too afraid to explore.
This was madness. I was mad. I tried remembering the face of that woman who’d taken a picture of herself with Sean while he slept. I reminded myself that he’d never had a girlfriend.
Sean Cassidy didn’t do relationships.
And even if he did, even if he wanted something more than lessons with me, there would never be an us. I was being ridiculous.
I blamed his body. His body made me want the impossible.
It was definitely his body and not the haunting vulnerability of him. It wasn’t his quick, witty rejoinders, or the way he’d discovered my darkest secret and hadn’t responded with judgment, but instead understanding, comradery, and concern.
Definitely not any of that.
A second later he came, filling my mouth as he held my cheeks in his palms again, his expression fierce as he drank me in. Sean’s head fell back into the pillows and I discreetly wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
I sat there for a moment, trying to gather my senses. Something was happening. Something I’d thought was a fluke yesterday. Something unplanned and inconvenient.
His hand felt hot when it stroked along my back, lazily seeking my attention. I turned to face him and mustered a small smile. The clock read 12:13. He’d lasted almost six minutes.
“Come here,” he whispered and my insides melted. I hesitated, wanting to go to him but afraid, too.
I was saved from having to make a decision when my phone rang loudly in my bag. Jumping away, I went to get it.
It was my friend, Mackenzie. Her name flashing on the screen pulled me back to reality.
“Hey girl,” she chirped as soon as I answered, her voice a welcome relief. “Facebook’s ‘not creepy at all’ location tracker was kind enough to inform me that you’re back in the city. How was New Hampshire?”
I forced a snicker at her trademark snarky attitude. “It was wonderful. Rick and I had a great time,” I replied as I felt two strong arms coil around my waist. Sean’s nose nuzzled into my neck before he sucked my earlobe into his mouth. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to moan. He was already hard again. I could feel his erection pressing into my backside.
“So, I know you probably don’t want to dive straight back into work, but if what I’ve heard on the grapevine is true, Carly Stevens and Dean Newman are going to be dining at Le Cirque in an hour. It could make for some great pics for the blo-og,” she said, finishing in a singsong voice.
I batted away the encroaching fog of lust inspired by Sean’s seductive movements and focused on my excitement at the opportunity for some new content. The Socialmedialite site had been wanting for articles in the last few weeks since I’d been home visiting and then at the retreat. Mackenzie was a photographer for Cosmopolitan, which, if you knew her, was just hilarious. She was the least Cosmo girl I’d ever met.
Sean continued to lavish my earlobe with attention as I considered my options. Stay here for the next forty-five minutes and enjoy fleeting but sweaty hotel sex with Adonis himself—falling deeper into this pit of irrational whatever it was—or venture out into the stress of the city and get some work done.