His thumb continues circling my clit as he drives two fingers into me, sliding deep. He tilts his wrist and drags his fingertips forward while pressing down on my clit with his thumb and I come, panting and incoherent. I grab his forearms with my hands, supporting myself as my toes bend over the edge of the counter and my back arches.
“Less than two minutes,” he boasts, sliding his fingers out and holding up his hand. I can see myself coating his fingers, my eyes trailing their path to his mouth, where he sucks them clean. “One-handed,” he adds, completely unnecessarily.
“Maybe I’m just a slut, you braggart,” I call out as he heads out of the bathroom. I grab the towel he tossed on the vanity earlier and clean myself up, my thighs a damp mess. “You just made it worse!” I yell as he crosses the bathroom threshold.
“I know,” he responds, tossing a grin over his shoulder.
I follow him to the walk-in closet. I’ve brought over half a dozen outfit options and they’re all hanging in Sawyer’s closet. He’s already got his pants on and is buttoning his shirt by the time I get there. I drop my robe on the floor and then dig through one of the built-in drawers in the closet.
“Something I can help you find?” he asks. Because to be fair, I’m digging through his drawer.
“Nope,” I tell him. “Found it.”
“Everly, what in the hell are you doing?” He’s finished buttoning his shirt and is staring at me, hands on hips, the corners of his eyes creased as he frowns.
“I’m putting on your underwear,” I tell him, stepping into a pair of his briefs. I was digging around for a black pair. Why the hell do they even sell them in white? Just, no.
“Why?” He still looks bewildered, but he’s stopped staring at me to tuck in his shirt.
“You got me all worked up and horny in there.” I point a thumb in the direction of the bathroom.
“I gave you an orgasm.” He seems confused by my accusation.
I snort. “Right. Which you know only makes me want your dick more.” I glance over at the clothing I brought, contemplating what will work with this underwear. I’ve been chatting with his assistant Sandra all week about what people wear to this party. Sawyer was zero help on that front. “Wear whatever you want,” he’d said. As if I can pick an outfit with that kind of direction. “I hope you’re wearing your new cufflinks with that shirt,” I tell him, eyeing his outfit of black slacks and grey dress shirt.
He holds up the cat cufflinks I gave him at Christmas and fastens his left sleeve. “I still don’t understand what my underwear has to do with anything.”
“Oh!” I pull a solid black sleeveless dress with a full skirt and a wide waistband off the hanger and step into it. “Because you’re obviously planning on having your way with me at this party. Probably gonna shove me into a coat closet and fuck me with your hand over my mouth so no one hears us. And if anyone’s panties are getting left behind at this party, it’s gonna be yours.”
He nods slowly and fastens his right sleeve. “Do women your age still use the phrase ‘having your way with me?’”
“I just did. Anyway, yours are more absorbent. Can you zip me?” I turn my back to him and swipe my hair over one shoulder, waiting.
I feel his fingers on the zipper, the fabric gathering slowly up my back. He finishes and rests his thumbs on the back of my neck, rubbing small circles into my skin as he kisses the nape of my neck. I shudder, feeling his touch all the way to the black briefs. “That’s a pretty elaborate plan I came up with,” he murmurs.
I turn and nod, sadly. “I know. You’re kind of a menace.”
“It’s good of you to put up with me.”
I shrug. “Someone’s got to.”
“I’m not going to be able to rip those underwear off of you.”
“Haha!” I point at him with one hand and slip a heel on with my other. “I knew it!”
He grins and shakes his head. “Never a dull moment with you.”
“I do my best.” I hop into the matching heels and head for the bathroom to add lipstick and finish fussing over my hair. “Thanks for letting me invite Chloe to the party.” I dig the red lipstick out of my makeup bag and slide it across my lips, then, realizing this dress has hidden pockets, ditch the clutch I was going to bring and pocket the lipstick instead. “She’d stay in tonight and watch a Criminal Minds marathon if I didn’t force her to come.”
“No problem. I look forward to meeting her.”
“Should I bring a condom or do you have it? My dress has pockets,” I add helpfully.
He rolls his eyes. “Everly, we are not having sex during my annual company party.”
“Right.” I wink and nod my head. “Anyway, is Gabe coming?”
“Is Gabe coming?” he repeats back to me, a curious expression on his face. He leans against the door frame, arms crossed across his chest. “How do you know Gabe?”
“I don’t,” I huff, and dust additional powder across my face. “Is he coming or not?”
“He’ll be there. You care why?”
“I’m working on something.”