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Praise: Chapter 39

RULE #39: GOOD GIRLS GET HAPPY ENDINGS. - EPILOGUE

Charlotte

He’s not focusing on the meeting at all. There are three potential investors on the call, each of their faces plastered on the screen as Maggie and Garrett walk them through the new programs the club is rolling out in the new fiscal year, and Emerson’s eyes are unfocused and furrowed as he stares at the computer screen.

Granted, I am lapping at his cock with my tongue like it’s a damn lollipop, and I’m doing it on purpose to drive him insane. With a quick click-click of his mouse, I know he’s muted his mic. Then his fingers dig into my hair as he mutters darkly, “Stop being a fucking tease, Charlotte, and suck my cock like a good little secretary.”

I whimper as desire trails down my spine, culminating between my legs and soaking my panties. “Yes, Sir,” I whisper, and I eagerly take his impressive length down my throat. Moaning with each stroke of my lips around him, I coat his shaft with saliva and bob my head up and down in the rhythm he loves.

“I’m gonna come down your throat,” he groans, and I hum in response. Just as he promised, the head of his cock tightens between my lips and then he unloads down the back of my throat, spilling and spilling until I swallow it all down.

When I look up at him, he’s gazing down at me with love in his eyes. Petting my head lovingly, he smiles as he bends down and presses his lips against mine.

“You are so perfect.”

“Aren’t you in a meeting, Sir?” I whisper.

“I turned off my camera. Garrett has it under control.”

“He’s going to fire me if you can’t focus on work while I’m here.” I laugh. He hoists me onto his lap, depositing me on his desk, then rolling his chair until he’s settled between my thighs.

“I’d like to see him try.”

A few minutes later, as his tongue is buried in my folds and his lips are taking me to another planet altogether, I briefly realize that the meeting is over and it’s just Garrett’s voice on the line.

“You can’t keep ghosting our investors’ meetings,” he scolds Emerson. The camera is still off, and the mic is still muted, which is a good thing because I’m about two seconds away from screaming my way through my second climax today.

“I know you can hear me, Grant.”

Emerson chuckles between my legs. “Better keep quiet, Charlotte.” With his free hand, he clicks his screen and I know he’s unmuted the mic. Thankfully, the camera is still off or his business partner would be getting a full view of my ass on Emerson’s desk.

“I’m working through lunch, Garrett. What do you want?” he asks, his voice muffled. I bite my lip as he sucks eagerly on my clit, making me see stars.

“Yeah, lunch, my ass,” Garrett replies over the line. “I’m glad you got your girl back, but we still have a company to run, so if you could maybe spend less time getting blown under your desk and more time finding ways to please our investors, that’d be great.”

“Someone needs to get laid,” Emerson grumbles between my legs. I’ve managed to hold off my orgasm until he slides two digits inside me at the same time, and I can’t help but gasp, rocking my hips to feel him deeper.

Garrett clears his throat over the speakerphone. “Hello, Charlotte. When you two are done, can you please read the proposal I just sent. We need to meet the VIP quota by the end of the quarter or we’re fucked. And not literally.”

As soon as the line goes dead, I let out a cry of pleasure and shudder through my long-awaited orgasm. I’ve barely caught my breath as Emerson pulls me in for a kiss. He rubs his wet fingers over the skin of my chest.

“You heard the man,” he says against my lips. “You’re keeping me from doing my job, Charlotte. If you can’t stop being so fucking fuckable, I’m going to have to tie you to your desk.”

“That sounds fun,” I whisper.

“Yes, it does,” he replies.

After we both come down from our post-orgasm highs, we actually get back to work. I print out the proposal Garrett sent and then reply to him with a quick and informal apology. I like Garrett, and I hate to hear him so disgruntled. It’s not like him. He’s usually so carefree and fun, and he’s always been the biggest supporter of my relationship with Emerson. It has me wondering what could have soured his mood lately. Jealousy, maybe? Emerson says Garrett isn’t the settling down kind of guy and gets laid enough that he should never be in a bad mood about it.

But maybe seeing his best friend in a happy, committed relationship is getting under his skin.


Part of the compromise I made with my mom last month when I started moving things slowly into Emerson’s house was that we had to uphold the Taco Tuesday tradition. She hardly had to twist my arm, especially since Emerson always drives and pays, which means bottomless margaritas for us.

It makes it more bearable since Sophie always has to sit next to him, and tonight, she’s stealing all of his attention by showing him her design for the anime she’s been drawing for months now. I guess I’d be more annoyed if he wasn’t so fucking adorable, acting all enthralled by her sketches.

We’re still on our first basket of chips and salsa when my mom wraps her arm around my shoulder and whispers, “Don’t be mad at me. I couldn’t help myself.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, but then I see him walking across the room.

“I had to invite him. It’s family night.”

My eyes widen as Beau waves awkwardly at me. I glance toward Emerson, but he doesn’t seem the least bit surprised, which means he already knew about this.

“Why doesn’t anyone tell me what’s going on?” I ask, but no one answers me as my mom gets up to hug Beau. Then Emerson claps him on the shoulder and scoots in so he can take the seat at the end of the table.

Is it awkward having my ex-boyfriend and current boyfriend at dinner together? Of course. The elephant in the room is bigger than this margarita bowl. But this is Emerson’s son, so I guess he’s technically family now, and families are weird anyway.

“What’s going on?” Beau asks awkwardly, and I just keep sucking down my drink, looking for the waiter, so I can have him on standby when I reach the bottom of this one.

“Sophie is showing me the comic book she drew,” Emerson answers casually.

“It’s called manga,” she corrects him with a roll of her eyes, and my mother laughs.

“Cut him some slack, Soph. He’s old,” Beau says with a smile. And when she nudges her drawings toward him, he looks as amused as Emerson was, and it warms my heart.

Although that could be the tequila.

By the time the waiter is setting the fried ice cream in front of my little sister, I’m spacey and buzzed and all the awkwardness of the table doesn’t feel so weird anymore. My mom and I can’t stop giggling, and Emerson looks mostly amused by our drunkenness. He, my mother, and Beau are swapping embarrassing stories about me, and I’m focusing too much on the ice cream to care.

While they’re all talking, I nudge my little sister with my foot and she looks up at me with a smile. Silently, I mouth the question, “Do I seem happy?”

Her smile is fighting to take over her whole face when she bites her lip and glances at the people at our table then back at me. She nods eagerly, and I have to swallow down the emotion building in the back of my throat.

And just like that, it’s not weird or wrong or uncomfortable. It’s just family.

When the check is paid, we all hug Beau goodbye, and Emerson drives my mom and sister home. On the drive back to his place, I’m staring out the window as he reaches across the seat and clutches my leg.

Looking over at him, I bite my bottom lip. “You’re real smooth around my family, but if they only knew the dirty things I’m sure you’re thinking…”

The wicked smile he’s wearing morphs into something much more sinister. “You have no idea.”

“So, why don’t you show me?” I ask.

He laughs. Then as we pull up to a stoplight, he reaches across the seat and pulls my face to his, gripping me hard under my chin. With a wicked whisper, he says, “Red light fire drill.”

A second later, he’s out of the car, and my eyes widen. A laugh bursts through my lips as I jump out of the car and run around the back of it, but he’s already so far ahead of me that by the time I reach the driver’s side, he’s already there. Snatching me by the waist, he presses me against the side of the car. We’re both laughing and breathless, and it’s a far cry from the brooding man I met four months ago.

With his mouth near mine, he mutters, “Baby, every second I’m around you, I’m thinking of all the dirty things I want to do to you, and you can rest assured I’m going to live out each and every one of those fantasies. Do you think you can handle that?”

My mouth falls open as he licks across my top lip, teasing me with his tongue. “Uh-huh…” I gasp.

A deep chuckle echoes through the dark night as someone behind us honks their horn. “Use your words, Charlotte.” He groans, sliding his hand between my legs.

“Yes, Sir.”

That sinister smile of his returns as he rests his forehead gently against mine. “Good girl.”


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