Page 61 of Under Water

He sits, then leans over his massive thighs and smiles widely. “Would you like that?”

Fuck, yes. Yes, I would. I would like that a little too much. I don’t answer him, mostly to see what he’ll do, and he only lasts in the silence for a moment. With a sigh, he reaches over and tears open the bag, unpacking everything on the desk.

There are two pieces of foil-wrapped bread, two black containers—one with saag and one with the tandoori chicken. And then there’s a big aluminum container that I know is full of rice.

“Are you watching your carbs today?”

“Hell no,” I answer, and he bursts into laughter before opening up one of the breads, and I see the buttery wheat swirls of the paratha. He sets that aside and then peels off the lid from the saag before tearing off a bit of bread, scooping up some spinach and lamb, and then holding it to my lips.

“Do I need to make choo-choo train sounds?” he asks when I continue to sit there.

“Fuck you,” I snap. But I let my lips hang open, and he carefully slides the bite past my teeth and onto my tongue.

I close my mouth around his fingers and suck, and he lets out a soft groan before pulling them away.

The saag is good. The salt off his fingers is better. I close my eyes as I chew, and I notice that under the scent of the food is the scent of him. It’s his bodywash—kind of woodsy and musky and familiar. I would always catch a whiff of it every time he walked by my office after his long showers.

It takes everything in me not to drag him into my lap right now. Instead, I give him a pointed look, and he smiles and repeats himself. This time, though, he doesn’t pull his fingers back right away, and I lick around them.

His pupils go wide, and he sits back when I start to chew.

“Good?” he rasps.

I nod and swallow. “I haven’t had this in a while. Thank you.”

His cheeks go faintly pink, and he nods before pulling the top off the chicken. “Want me to feed this to you too?”

Yeah, I do. I want to make a big fucking show of this before I yank him onto my lap and make him ride me into oblivion, but work isn’t the place for that. We took one risk already, and I’m not sure I can do it again.

If I get fired, I’d be fucked. And I don’t think Camilo will be able to save me from something like that, even if he wanted to.

“I’ve got it,” I tell him. For only a split second, I worry that my answer will offend him. But his eyes are on mine, and a tiny smirk is playing at his lips. He knows exactly what I’m thinking.

Hell, there was a reason he was bold enough to lock the door.

I don’t break his gaze as I reach for the chicken, and our fingers bump as he does the same. Neither one of us moves for a second, and then he carefully takes a bit for himself, and the two of us start to eat.

The silence is heavy, but it’s warm and comfortable too. It takes everything in me to finish the meal, but I know I won’t regret it if I’m patient.

Reaching over me, he opens the top drawer of the desk where Teddy keeps his wet wipes and pulls a few out to clean up his fingers, then takes my hand and does the same for me.

“I told North once that I’d like to pull you over my lap and spank your ass,” I tell him.

He chokes on his tongue. “Oh my god.”

I lean my elbow on the desk. “You’re being a bit too good for that right now.”

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath, then opens them and says, “I could be bad if you want me to.”

“No. Easton, I don’t want you to be bad. I like you obedient. Compliant. Willing.”

“Trust me, I’m willing. I’m so fucking willing.” He leans back and spreads his legs, and I can see through his jeans that he’s hard. He rubs the heel of his palm over the length of his erection, and my own dribbles precome into my boxers. “I did some research last night.”

My brows lift. “Did you? Please don’t tell me porn⁠—”

“Porn,” he says with a huge grin.

“Easton,” I groan.