It’s because I trust Barrett. I like giving him control of my body, knowing he will make it good while also pushing me out of my comfort zone. I can’t imagine feeling that way with someone else. These thoughts stray way outside of the ‘we’re just hooking up because we’re fake dating’ boundary that I’ve assured Jules I’m staying inside of.

When Lauren texted me earlier and asked if I had a plus one to her wedding—she’s trying to decide if she wants a head table with all the wedding party or a sweetheart table for just her and Jeff—I only fantasized about Barrett spinning me around the dance floor in his tux for ten minutes before I responded that I would be dateless.

Barrett and I will be broken up then. The six-week timeline for our agreement will be expired. While we’ve hooked up, Barrett hasn’t indicated that anything has changed. We’re still getting what we both want, but now I’m getting orgasms.

I grab another bag from the stack and go through the motions of filling it. Jules continues to work, her focus no longer on Barrett’s monster cock, but telling me a story about the date she went on last night. The guy asked if they could have sex before they went to dinner because he doesn’t perform well on a full stomach.

As Jules continues her story, I think about the blank space I have left on my list. Jules is right. I don’t want to wait any longer to put my mouth on Barrett.

23. Barrett

CHAPTER 23

Barrett

I’m drafting an email when Chloe bursts through my office door. I’d be surprised if I wasn’t so fucking happy to see her there.

Every night this week we’ve played WordIt to determine who gets the pleasure of making the other one come. Every night this week I’ve won and fucked Chloe with my fingers and tongue. It’s been a measure in restraint not giving in when she reaches for my belt. Pulling away from her warm, sweet body every night. But it’s been necessary. I’m dying to be inside her, but I want Chloe to be comfortable before we move on to the next step, because I know when that happens, I won’t be able to hold anything back.

She’s breathing hard, like she ran here in her red high heels, the same color as her lips again today.

“Hi,” she says, still working to catch her breath.

“Hi,” I say, standing from my desk chair.

She turns to lock the door before striding over to move between me and my desk. Needing to be closer, I slide my hand to her hip and pull her to me.

“This is a nice surprise.” I smile down at her.

“Do you have lunch plans?” she asks, grinning from ear to ear.