Page 76 of Tears of Glass

Wearing a navy suit and waistcoat complimented by a vibrant pink tie he looks so beautiful I could stare at him all day, could spend forever trying to replicate him in art that will never been good enough.

“Miss Webster.” He holds his hand out to shake mine, but his fingers slide against my palm, warm and firm, slipping around my wrist as he tugs me into the room behind the door.

He kicks at the door, his fingers pulling me closer, edging me against surface of the door. The handle digs into my back, but I don’t care, his lips are on mine, slanting perfectly to fit as his warm tongue probes between my teeth. “What are you doing here?” His words lick warm minty breath into my mouth and I shiver with desire.

“I missed you.”

He pulls away slightly, his fingers tangling in my hair, tilting my face so he can read my eyes. “You were pissed with me.”

I shrug and slip my hands into the material of his suit, running my fingers across his cotton shirt, feeling the roll of his muscles beneath my touch. “Now I’m not.”

He appraises me for a moment, a slow smile tilting half his mouth into a sexy curve. “Come here.”

Then his mouth is on mine, hot and hard, soft and slow, everything all at once as every single one of our kisses are. I run my hands through his hair, playing with the strands at the base of his neck.

“My associate will be back in ten minutes.” He nibbles a kiss along the edge of my lips.

“What can you do in ten minutes?”

That smile grows and drops to my throat. A small sigh escapes me as his lips run across the sensitive skin of my throat and nibble on my earlobe. My earlobe and my core must be connected somehow. A darting tingle shoots straight between my legs.

“Wait.” I gush my reprieve as his hands slips around the waistband of my trousers, unhooking the catch.

“What am I waiting for?” He breaks his lips away from my throat to meet my gaze.

“Ten minutes?”

“Yes... Faith?” he warns, but I grin at him and push him away slightly so I can sink to my knees. He’s not the only one who can play dirty. This can be payback for the house in France, I’m still having vivid dreams about that moment in the empty hallway.

Swiftly, I unzip his trousers and tease my hand inside, freeing him from the confines of his boxers. He’s hard already, gleaming and smooth as I circle my hand around his width and lick at the end of his dick with my tongue. He shudders and it fills me with desire and control. I take him deep, filling my mouth with his smooth hardness, tilting my head so I can take him all the way to the back of my throat, then I suck and pull, my hand gliding up and down with the movement of my mouth.

“Faith, fuck,” he curses my name, his fingers tangling into my hair, holding my head still as he takes control of the rhythm and thrusts himself deeper and deeper into my mouth. I’m burning with my own desire. His hands leave my hair and spread against the door as he whimpers his rising climax. With three more thrusts he releases warm liquid at the back of my mouth, and he shivers uncontrollably as his body slumps a little. I swallow and with one last gentle pull, sucking every drop from his tip, I slip him back out of my mouth and zip him carefully back up. Licking my lips, I rise from my knees and stare him in the eyes. His hands catch my face, his mouth bursting onto mine with a reverent kiss. “I love you.” He peppers kisses along my cheeks, my nose, my eyelids and I giggle under their fluttering touch. He is so far from the barrister right now.

There’s a knock on the door. His eyes widen, a shy smile flickering across his face. “I’ll see you later.”

“Maybe.” I give him a cheeky wink and he opens the door, straightening his tie. There’s a young guy stood at the other side, two takeaway cups in his hands.

“Thanks for stopping by, Miss Webster.”

“Anytime.”

I make sure to walk off with a swing in my hips, knowing he’s watching. I glance at my watch and smile. I’ve still got time to get to class. Perfect.

––––––––

“MORE DRINK!” DYLAN sways a little and I narrow my eyes at him. The room is spinning. I think I should learn before my next birthday that shots are bad news.

“Are you even old enough to drink?” I lean forward to poke him on the chest but lose my balance and face plant the table.

“Faith, Faith.” Lydia pulls at my shoulder to lift me back up again and I rub at my face. I reckon that’s gonna bruise. “Faith, I can’t believe how much fun you are.” There is something wrong with her face. She’s got three eyes.

“I’m not fun. I’m drunk.”

“No, no, no. I always thought you were scary, with all your ink and all that, but really you’re lovely.”

“No. You’re lovely.”

“So, Faith?” Dylan interrupts us. “Are you really going to be on telly?”