Reluctantly Yours(69)

Barrett shakes his head, and moves out of my reach. His lips are wet from me and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and I stand corrected. That is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

“If you want to call the shots, you’ll have to win next time.”

He’s talking about WordIt.

“There’s only one word a day. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow!” I whine. Now that I’ve had a taste (or in this case Barrett has had a taste), I want more. The bulge in Barrett’s pants is screaming for relief, yet he seems determined to leave it be. I’d say I was a sore loser if I hadn’t been the one riding Barrett’s face to orgasmic pleasure a moment ago.

Barrett stands and adjusts himself, then places a kiss on my forehead before retreating.

“Goodnight, Chloe.”





But it wasn’t a good night. While my body was sated by Barrett’s tongue, my mind was restless. And my nails felt like a new appendage that I wasn’t sure what to do with. I tried a thousand positions. Hands resting on my chest like Sleeping Beauty. One hand tucked under my pillow, the other resting on top. Both hands overhead, but then my arms fell asleep.

Once I finally got comfortable, my mind drifted to Barrett. Thinking of him across the hall and wondering if he’d taken care of himself. Regardless of the rules of the game we’d played, I couldn’t help but feel a sting of rejection when he pulled away.

Thoughts of Barrett and what more might happen between us kept me up and I ended up oversleeping, somehow tapping the dismiss button on my alarm instead of snooze. Then there was the complication of what to wear. After spending ten minutes trying to button a blouse, I gave up and threw on a tank dress and heels.

At work, as I anticipated, everything has been taking longer with these nails than it normally would, typing especially. With the additional workload I’ve taken on in Lacey’s absence, going slower is not going to cut it.

I spent fifteen minutes trying to scan a signed contract, but kept messing up the email address I was inputting. Then, I accidentally deleted a week out of the editorial calendar, so I spent half an hour recreating it, and double checking that I hadn’t left off any important deadlines.

At this pace, there won’t be enough hours in the day to get everything done.

Not to mention, JoAnna left for London last night for meetings with our UK office, and in her absence, I have to finalize everything for the Books 4 Kids launch event on Friday.

With the added challenges, my mind should be focused on work, but I find myself thinking about last night with Barrett.

Mostly about his tongue and his fingers and the way his hazel eyes looked staring up at me from between my thighs.

I’m in mid-thought when Jules appears and sets a brown bag onto my desk. She’d asked if I wanted to go to lunch, but with the setbacks I had earlier, I hadn’t been able to take a break.

“Chicken salad sandwich,” she announces before dropping into the chair across from my desk. “And a chocolate chip cookie.”

“You’re the best!” I open the bag and tear into the sandwich wrapper, an easy thing to do with my claw-like nails.

“I couldn’t let you starve. You’ll need your energy later.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

I told her about WordIt and Barrett’s skilled tongue.

“It was probably a one-time thing. You know, because he feels bad that my nails are hideous.”

“No, he’ll want it again. No man tells you your pussy is his and then doesn’t come back for more.”

Maybe I shared too much. I take a bite of my sandwich and try not to blush. I had to confide in Jules. I’m out of my depth here with Barrett and his expert mouth.

My phone buzzes with a text. My heart skips a beat wondering if it’s from Barrett.

But, it’s not. It’s from Lauren asking if I got my bridesmaid dress.

After several attempts to text and autocorrect failing me every time, I give up and do a voice message instead.

“I got my dress. Love the lavender, it’s so pretty. Will take to the seamstress tomorrow.”

I set my phone down and turn to Jules.

While I was messaging Lauren, she was breaking off a bite of the cookie she got me.

“What do you think it means?” I ask.

“That I should have gotten two cookies.” She hums around a bite.

I shake my head, but realize I gave her no context to my question.

“About Barrett and last night.”

There’s a celery string stuck between my molars but it’s impossible to grasp with my nails. I give up trying to pinch it and take another bite.

“I think it means you’re the luckiest girl in the world. And you should plan to lose at WordIt every night.”

“No. I mean was it weird that he didn’t want me to reciprocate?”

“Maybe he wanted it to be all about you. You are going above and beyond as a fake girlfriend with this nail thing.”

“Yeah,” I say on a sigh.

“Hold on.” Jules’ eyes narrow. “Did you want to reciprocate?”

“Um, I guess I thought it was the polite thing to do.” And the outline of his dick had made my mouth water.

“Wait a second. Do you have a thing for Barrett?” she asks.