That was amazing.
I love you. Goodnight x
Staring at the phone, gripping my hard cock, I wallowed in the dark feeling of triumph and regret.
I was fucked. Well and truly fucked.
I shouldn’t have given in to temptation, but Harry made me weak.
And he outright told me he wanted it, so it would have been a crime to say no.
As if it was his fault I went rummaging in my closet, moving aside a bag of sex toys I hid the phone under, turned it on, and texted him.
I couldn’t even blame it on alcohol this time.
It’s late. I need to sleep. Talk to you later.
I sent, switching off the phone.
I knew it was blunt and harsh after we’d spent the past hour sexting, but the further we went, the more satisfied and pissed off with myself I got.
I was scratching an itch I shouldn't have touched in the first place.
I hadn’t come yet, but I didn’t deserve it after going so far. I made him tease himself until he was begging for permission to come.
It was amazing, and so fucking wrong.
I couldn’t stop myself from running through all the possibilities that presented themselves now that we’d done it again. If he was asking for it, and he was willing to follow my orders, how far could I make him go? I had a very long list of things I wanted to do with Harry Fischer, and we were just skimming the surface.
Because, fuck me, did I want to hold him and watch his face as I sank my cock into him. I wanted to hear my name on his lips as I made him come, and lick the salty sweat off his neck as he panted, his hot skin flush against mine. I wanted to torture him until he was crying, shouting for me to stop, only to change his tune the moment I let him go.
Since I dipped my toe in the water, there was nothing to stop me from plunging in, and that was what was getting to me.
Because there was no reason for me to pick the phone up again. I could leave it at that.
And that was exactly what I was going to do.
I shifted from the bed, throwing my legs over the side and pushed myself up, heading straight for the bathroom. I wasn't even going to bother looking at the bag of toys I’d left lying open on the carpet.
I turned the tap and let the water run hot, gripping the edge of the sink. I should just stop. Call it a day. Make that the last night and step back.
Nice. Good. Sensible.
But I basically had a free run to fuck around as much as I wanted until Molly got back, and I was making a total arse of it by ignoring him the rest of the time. Or, Molly was ignoring him. There was no way he wasn’t going to figure it out in the end. So I just had to stop now.
I could tell myself that all I wanted, but that didn’t make an ounce of a difference when my cock was still hard and I wanted to come with his voice in my ear. Logic and reason weren’t even on the table when it came down to it. I just wanted him.
It was like watching a comet slowly burn up as it entered the atmosphere and began its fiery descent, eventually crashing and destroying me.
I bent over, splashing my face with water before grabbing a cloth and cleaning my cock.
I’d gone from filling Grace in on everything Christian had learnt about the thug’s death, to working late on one of my cases, to suddenly deciding to check the phone. It was just a coincidence that Harry had sent Molly that text. Or was it fucking fate telling me to go for it?
Whatever it was, I was gently swimming in a mix of elation and disgust.
It was the same feeling I had every time I pulled off one of Sally’s scams. I’d won, I’d beaten whoever it was by gettingthem to hand over their money, but I’d also robbed someone, potentially changing their lives in a way I couldn’t predict. She always moved on, never cared about the consequences, and I idolised her. Until I found out one of the married men she had brought home every night for six months killed himself a year later, and I was pretty sure it was because she blackmailed him as soon as she had enough evidence of his cheating.
It was that kind of shit that made it easier to target people who had more money than they knew what to do with, and harder to justify what I’d just done to Harry.