There’s no mistaking the slapping, wet noise to hide what I’m doing. Hopefully, Jolee is sleeping. Apartment walls are not soundproof.
“Damn, love. You’re already close. Show me what she’s doing to you. Show me what not having my cock in your ass is doing to you.”
And I do. My cum shoots forcefully from my cock, up my stomach, and almost hits my phone. So much cum. Shot after shot. I feel like it’s not going to end.
“Damn. I wish I were there to lick it all up. What a shame to waste that treat. Do you feel better, love?”
My breaths come out in long gasps, and I try to slow them down. “For a minute. I swear I’ll be hard again soon.”
There’s a long pause.
“What is it, Grant? I know you want to say something?”
“Baby, I love you, but… I need you home. With me and in our bed.”
I knew this was coming, too. He’s not wrong, and I need to go home. I just… ugh… really, there is no excuse. I’ve done my job and more.
Grant cuts into my thoughts. “If you want, I’m not opposed to you bringing her here. I’d love to meet the woman who’s got you this flustered.”
Take Jolee home? To Grant? My spent cock twitches; it likes the idea.
“Just think it over. Let me know when I’ll be seeing my husband. I love you.”
“I love you too. I will. I’ll be home soon.”
We hang up. I sink into the mattress, but guilt prevents me from thinking about Jolee anymore tonight.
Home? As much as I want to, I can’t take her home. Space would be an issue, and I can already picture her losing her mind over that. Another part of me is worried about what Grant will think of her.
What if he doesn’t like her? Is that possible?
I’d be crushed. Which is crazy to even feel for someone I haven’t been with. Haven’t even held her hand. But caring for Jolee, that’s been some of the best days I’ve ever had with a woman, even if she’s cursing me out and telling me to get lost endlessly. Get it together, Clay.
Grant and I have never talked about having a permanent relationship with anyone. I don’t even know if that’s what I want or if he’d even entertain it.
God, why am I thinking about that? She’s messing with my head and doesn’t even know it—both of them.
My boss, Derrick, told me it was my job to make sure she lives… I guess I’ve taken that a lot more personally than one should. But she’s not really living. Just existing. I know she can’t return to work yet, but I haven’t heard from or seen any family or friends.
I know she talks to Star and Stella, but it’s not like close girlfriends would. No one visited her in the hospital, and I’ve been the only person around since we’ve been back at her apartment. That makes it harder to leave her. I know she’s a grown woman.
Why am I so torn up over this?
She doesn’t think she needs help, but she does. Her one arm just got out of a sling, but she’s still in a walking boot. Limping about because she doesn’t understand the meaning of the word rest. Clumsy doesn’t begin to describe how many times I’ve caught her from falling face-first onto the floor.
Never did I think my job would lead me to her… Jo.
2
Jolee
I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.
He’s an infuriating hunk of a man who needs to go. I pause in my rage cleaning.
Did I just refer to him as a hunk?
I guess I did, if tall, lean yet muscular, dirty blond hair, and mesmerizing blue eyes are the definition of a hunk.