Page 23 of One Rule
His plump lips as I form a V with two fingers and spread my lips, rubbing across each one before slightly dipping the tips into my entrance. Just a tease, but God does it feel good. More so when I imagine his heated eyes looking at me just the way he did the night we kissed.
“Micah.” Another moan, my hips following my fingers, pushing me closer to a release that will never fully fulfill me. Yet I chase it. Need it. “Please, Papi.”
A warm rush of wetness coats my hand and I shiver, but it’s when I rub two tight circles over my clit that pleasure rocks me. I’m so sensitive, swollen, and I come while doing nothing more than holding those slick fingers against my bundle of nerves.
Light pressure. No movement.
And fuck me if I don’t scream out his name like the prayer that it is. Pleasure rocks me and I’m shaking, riding each wave until the last one leaves me and I’m drifting off once more.
God, I needed that.
But more than that, I’m desperate for him.
* * *
The pingingof my phone pulls me from sleep, and this time when I open my eyes the sun is high in the sky. It streams in from my sheer curtains, bathing the room in more light than I’m used to first thing in the morning.
Next, I’m aware of the vibrating of my phone. That first alert wasn’t a call or alarm. No, it’s the reminder that a text came in and I haven’t responded.
Stretching my arms up, I turn just enough to reach the device and angle it so it picks up my face, unlocking the screen. It does in seconds and leads me right to that message, my heart giving a gentle tug when I see it’s from Micah.
You’re late, Miss Armas. ~ Captain Grumps
Immediately my body checks the time in the upper left of my screen, and I shoot out of bed. “How the hell?”
Not that I’ve never done this on the weekends—sleeping is my third greatest love after coffee and Micah—but workdays are sacred. I’m always on time. No excuses.
It’s one in the afternoon, and I quickly throw my legs over the edge of the bed, dragging with the comforter with me. Second on the agenda is calling him, and I do, only having to wait for two rings before it connects.
For a beat or two, silence filters through right before he chuckles.
“You’re such a bad girl, rebel. Didn’t think I’d need to reprimand you so soon.”
His words…
That edge with a hint of playfulness…
It makes me shiver while my core clenches, my pulse racing as what I did a few hours ago to calm my need is rendered useless. I’m right back to yesterday and the memory of that kiss, fighting my body and the whimper trying to break free but I have no choice but to swallow it back.
I have seconds to respond, to make up an excuse, and when I do, what slips out surprises us both. I’ve never done this since starting at his company.
“I’m actually calling you to take the day off, Mr. Royce.”
Chapter8
Liliana
“There’s my baby girl,” Mom squeals three days later, rushing over and crushing me in a warm hug. She’s been gone a while now, but then again, that’s been her modus operandi since divorcing Dad. Vacations and self-discovery trips mixed with reliving her youth, or anything she feels she missed by becoming Joaquin Armas's wife. “How have you been?”
“I’m good, and happy you’re home.” It’s the truth. We all miss her. “But other than that, busy with work.”
It’s not a lie. Since coming back after taking a self-care day to readjust my armor, I’ve been left alone to deal with “extras” outside of his daily itinerary. He’s been away from headquarters while I’ve sat down with two department heads and gone over reports that are above my pay grade. Sure, I understand numbers, and what they presented are documents I’m used to logging for him as hisundercoversecretary, but this was more.
This showed trust. Micah would never allow Beverly to handle any of his meetings.
I miss him, though.
“Miss Armas, here are the talent payroll reports I promised Mr. Royce. He asked me to give them to you, and if you have a minute, I’d like to explain a few things.” Startled by the man’s voice, I nearly drop my bottle of water and in the midst of catching it, my ear bud pops loose. That would’ve been helpful a minute ago as I would’ve heard his approach, or better yet, the elevator, but I wasn’t expecting anyone today. Micah’s been out at the Royce shipyard since the day after he all but forbid me from occupying the secretary’s desk a floor below us.