‘That’s it,’ Brendan croons. ‘You love it, don’t you? Such a beautiful, golden little princess when we’re in the office, and yet you’ll let two men touch you like this. It’s fucking filthy. How are his fingers, hmm? Do they feel tight? Are they stretching you nicely for my cock?’

It’s his words, and the thought of what’s to come, that does it. I drink up every last drop of this feeling, of their fingers and Ethan’s mouth on me. I douse myself liberally in the shame of it all and I let Brendan’s dirty talk set me alight.

CHAPTER 28

Brendan

I’m so fucking jealous of Kingsley’s view right now.

Seriously, I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to put Marls on my lap while he got to do all the good stuff to her.

Except I do know.

I wanted to show off. To come over here and taunt him, show him how stunning my new fuck toy is, rub his nose in it and then waltz off with her afterwards. I don’t know why I’m like this, but I’ve been like this since I was a kid. When you’re used to being the disappointment, to being outdone by your siblings, you become overly fixated on finding gimmicks, external trophies, that will allow you to shine. To dazzle.

I’m a modern-day Bishop George Berkeley, except the Brendan Sullivan school of philosophy goes like this:

If I bag myself the hottest EA of all time and I get to fuck her, does it count unless at least one of my disgustingly competitive friends gets to see exactly what’s so great about her?

Other examples of this great philosophical question include everything from my cars and boats to my golf swing and my mogul skiing. It’s an endless, shameless quest for validation. Praise. Envy. It’s one-upmanship, and I’m not proud of it, but I still fucking love it, and it’s that knowledge that stops me from going nuclear because my beautiful assistant is writhing on my lap, coming all over Ethan fucking Kingsley’s fingers.

Even if I feel like a little boy who agreed to share his toy and regrets it instantly.

I want to stomp my feet.

He’s playing with my toy and I want it back.

Her back, I mean.

But, in about an hour, I’ll get to walk out of here with her, and he’ll be left to speculate what it is about his undesirable personality that has his being deserted by wives and EAs and PAs, left, right and centre.