Nyla: You want to fuck me, East? You want my fingers to be yours? Or maybe you want to use your mouth instead of your fingers.
"Yes. Yes, I fucking want to."
My voice was raw and guttural. It was like she could hear me, could hear what I wanted, what I needed. On the monitor, I used my camera to zero in on what she was doing. And it was like I was in the room with her. Her middle finger gently rubbed over her clit in easy, circular strokes before dipping down, down, into her center. Then she pulled it back, repeating the motion. With every dip inside her center, her back arched and her camisole threatened to show me those pretty tits that I wanted to suck on.
Fuck my life. The tingling at the base of my cock was quick to start, and I had to grip tight on the base to stop it.
“No. I'm not doing this.” I tried to reason with myself.
Too late. You are already doing this. This is happening. Go with the flow and let it happen. There is no stopping this.
Nyla: Are you desperate yet? Are you dying to remember what this feels like?
"Yes. God, yes."
I watched her, and I had no choice. My gaze was fixed on her as she played with herself. As her fingers became mine, as I pretended my mouth was on hers, I couldn't help it. I knew we were locked in this game, and there would be one loser. It would be me. Because I was torn between the people I was sworn by oaths and family to protect and the woman who I couldn't stop staring at. My hands swept over my dick, and the sensitive tip wept for her. A shudder went up my spine, and I knew I was close. So fucking close.
Nyla: Are you watching me? I'm close. Sooo close.
And I could tell the exact moment she broke apart. The way her back arched and her teeth bit down on her bottom lip as she buried her fingers inside of her sweet cleft. Then the electricity shot up my spine, and I was coming. An explosion of need, and frustration, and anger.
I don't know how long I sat there, my fist on my dick, my head thrown back, panting. When I lifted my head and reached for some tissues, there was another message.
Nyla: I miss you. Talk to me.
And I knew. I knew there was no way I could hold out forever. I needed to decide what to do with her. I needed to learn how to walk away from her.
East
As far as I was concerned, I was winning the day. I'd managed not to creepily stroke myself as I watched her from across the street for a whole seven hours.
You deserve a goddamn medal.
The night before, it had been all I could do to not physically walk over to her flat and replace her fingers with mine.
My cock thickened in my trousers. An irritated twitch meant to chastise my heart for refusing to speak to her. I had to shake my head to clear the image.
I pinched the bridge of my nose as I lay my elbows on my desk. I didn’t know how to make this hell stop. I needed to focus on our damn financials meeting. Livy needed budget approval to move forward.
Drew as our financial advisor, was giving us projections on our future projects and was droning on about liquidity and debt to income ratios. I think it was good. Ben wasn’t frowning, so that had to be good, right? I needed to get my head in the game.
“Okay, so we’ll be able to continue the Dubai build?”
The room went silent. I lifted my head to find my mates eyeing me like I’d lost my mind.
Bridge tried to ease the pain of chastisement. “Mate, we talked about that twenty minutes ago. You agreed to cut spending by ten percent.”
My eyes popped. “The fuck I did!” They’d been trying to cut my budget for two years now. I wasn’t pulling back from the design. Building was just taking so long. Apparently a floating hotel was a complicated endeavor. But I had a vision, and I wasn’t giving it up. “No way in hell I said that.”
“Then fucking pay attention,” Bridge threw back.
"Look, can we fucking drop it?"
I could hear Ben practically growl from my couch. "Oi, mate. Easy does it."
From the peanut gallery, Drew offered, "He's just sad because he got his arse kicked the other night after leaving Ben’s."
"What the fuck? I didn't get my arse kicked. I was lying in wait for the fucker."
Bridge opened his mouth to offer something, but I pointed a finger in his direction. "Nothing from you, arsehole."
He shrugged. "Oh? I see you're still in a fantastic mood. Are we going to talk about the idiot who thought you might be up for a little game of cricket? You know, using your head as the ball?"
"Did you get anything on him?"
Bridge shook his head. "No, our contacts with the police said he wasn't talking. They only have him for the assault, so we don’t have much. Just your statement.”
Fuck. "The fingerprint analysis came back with nothing. He’s not in any databases anywhere."
Drew pinned me with a look. "So is this the time when we ask if Nyla could check databases that you can't access?"
He was trying to goad me. "I can access them all. Her systems are just faster because she actually has the password and doesn't have to hack in."
He held up his hands. "You know, maybe if you actually talk to her. Clearly, you want to keep shagging her. It’s making you tetchy not to. So why don’t you just keep shagging her but keep her at a distance?"
Ben shook his head and turned to glare at our friend. "Mate, I don't think that's helping."
Drew shrugged and looked up from checking his phone. "What? She's fit. And look, he's clearly wound
