𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

6

"So do you."

I frown. "Excuse me?"

He takes a deep breath, looking down at his tablet once more. "You heard. Now shut the fuck up so I can concentrate."

I grit my teeth, my fists clenching at my sides. "Idiot," I mutter under my breath, but the half-grin on his face tells me that he heard.

After ten minutes of silence, I lift the helmet, staring at the device. It's not too heavy, and the curious side of me presses down on the power button. The helmet beeps, flashing red inside, and Eric looks up. "You shouldn't be touching that." I roll my eyes at him and he shakes his head with a groan, staring down at the tablet again. "Worse than a fucking child."

Ignoring him, I slowly sit forward and push my head into it, the sudden pressure takes over, making my eyes feel heavy, and my back somehow hits the floor with a hard dunt, winding me.

For a split second, I feel like I've just woken from a deep sleep, but it washes away quickly as I blink and sit up.

I lean back on my hands, looking around, still in the office with Eric. Blowing my cheek out, I pull the stupid thing off, tossing it back onto the table as I stand up and rub my elbow. I sit back down on the chair. "What a pile of rubbish," I say, shoving it along the desk.

He stands up, placing the tablet on the chair he was just sitting on. "It's not a pile of rubbish. Stop being such an ungrateful fucking shit."

I scowl at him, my nose scrunching up. "What?"

"You heard," he says, striding until he's in front of me, leaning two hands on the table. Moving his face down, he stops inches from mine, and my heart begins to accelerate at a dangerous pace. Watching his blue eyes widen, his brows raising, I gulp. "Do I need to repeat myself?"

I shake my head no, and he smirks, shocking me when he reaches forward and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, carefully stroking his thumb along my cheekbone. "What are you doing?" I ask, frozen, trying to rid myself of the warm feeling rushing through me.

"Exactly what you want me to do, Dan." Both his hands cup my face, and he presses his soft lips against my jaw, a wave of excitement shooting straight down south before I pull away from him. I stare into his eyes as they darken with each passing moment of silence, then my gaze drops to his lips for a split second before looking back at him. "This, for some reason, is what you want, whether you admit it or not."

"I..." My words fail me, my breathing uneven.

"I know exactly what you want. I know what you need," he continues with a soft voice, shoving the chair aside so that I face him. I gasp as he abruptly parts my legs by grabbing my knees, my skirt hiking up over my thighs, revealing my red lace lingerie, and he leans forward so his lips touch my ear. "Robert doesn't want you, does he?" I whimper as he bites down, followed by his tongue running along the sensitive skin of my neck. "But I do."

"I can't," I breathe out, fingers digging into the leather of the chair, feeling my arousal intensifying as Eric spreads my legs wider. "Robbie is..."

"A dickhead." He finishes my sentence and pulls back, making my breath hitch as he grabs the back of my knees and hulks me up onto the table, settling himself between my legs. "And you need a distraction. You need to be touched." His nose nudges mine, voice lowering. "You want it."

His mouth grazes mine, tenderly kissing along my jawline, both of his hands moving up the inside of my legs at a torturous pace, and I want him to keep going, to keep moving them until they reach where I need them most.