My Big Fat Fake Wedding - Lauren Landish Page 0,40
back and slipping it into her pocket. “In the meantime, I’ll help you learn how to get under Ross’s skin, how to cajole him to be nice. When we’re done with him, he’ll be eating out of the palm of your hand. I’ve got a few years’ experience in driving guys crazy, especially my brother. And coupled with your track record, we should be golden. Let the games begin.”
I hold my breath and count to ten, gathering myself. “Okay . . . so how do I twist Ross around my little finger and make this whole thing not so ridiculous?”
Chapter 8
Ross
I’m able to hold off until I get to the office, but finally, my primal brain takes over. I barely drop my briefcase in my office, thankful that Kaede’s not at his desk to see my desperation, before I’m bolting for my private bathroom, locking the door behind me as images flash through my mind.
Last night, the feeling of that lush, delicious body pressed against me.
Her lips against mine, her moans when I cupped her ass in the elevator and squeezed.
Waking up to see her nude in all her glory, heavy teardrop breasts succulently swaying with every word.
Her face lighting up with joy when I took her ring shopping. I wonder if she knew she was hugging my arm, pressing her body against mine when I was being a gentleman to her, and if she was purposefully showing me the challenging fire in the dark depths of her eyes when I wasn’t.
But most of all, the sight of her gleaming wet pussy, wanting me to press her into the mattress and fuck her as hard as I could. I’d never even considered what Violet’s pussy might look like, but now it’s all I can imagine.
I’ve been with her all night and all day, a patient saint who didn’t want the delicious torture to end. But I can’t hold back anymore. I drop my pants and wrap my hand around my aching hard cock.
This is wrong, so wrong, but I can’t help it as another image of her soft pink pussy lips and caramel colored nipples floods my overtaxed mind.
In my head, a fantasy Violet drops to her knees, running her hands up my legs and over my thighs, her pink tongue licking her lush lips before taking my balls into her mouth.
I stroke hard, rough, as I give myself over to my lust and my need for her.
Violet Russo. The pest I childishly tortured who grew into the vixen I never noticed and is now the beauty I’m going to marry.
In less than a dozen strokes, my climax hits me like a shotgun blast to the balls, and thick, ropy streams shoot out of the purplish head of my cock to splatter against the toilet and into the water below.
“Fuck,” I rasp, grabbing a handful of toilet paper and wiping up the mess. I can’t believe how fast I came, so fast I didn’t even get to her sucking me or climbing into my lap . . .
I need to stop, or I’m going to walk out of the washroom just as hard as when I walked in. Flushing the toilet, I take a good two minutes to wash my hands and splash water on my face, getting myself under some semblance of control before heading back into my office.
The door’s open and Kaede’s waiting for me, sitting in one of my chairs and tapping away at his tablet so fast and hard that I suspect I’m going to be buying him a new one within a few months. I’m just hoping he was distracted enough by whatever he’s working on to not have heard what I was doing in the bathroom.
He looks up when I sit down and judging by the concern and not smirking judgement, I think I’m in the clear.
“How’s the headache?” And what warrants calling me in on a weekend?”
Straight to the point, I like that about him.
“Barely there,” I reply, opening my laptop. “Listen, I need you to—”
“Wait,” Kaede says, holding up a hand. He does that sometimes, and while most executive assistants would probably lose their jobs for interrupting their executive VP bosses, I’ve come to trust his judgement. He clicks around on his tablet, muttering, “Password protected and off the servers, just to be careful while I’m taking notes. Okay, so about Violet . . .”
He eyes me expectantly. Of course he knows who Violet is. He went to school with us and