“Shit,” he says, his hands gripping the arms of my office chair.
I’m not exactly a pro at this, but Colton makes me feel like a porn star when I go down on him. He groans as one of my hand plays with his balls while my other one pumps him. My mouth works his tip as though it’s my favorite lollipop.
“Damn, Juno.” He bucks forward, the tip of his dick hitting the back of my throat.
I continue my pace, cranking up the speed little by little, and he groans like a game of hot and cold, telling me how close we’re getting to him coming. When his hands tug on my hair, he’s hit his threshold and I work him as I have the past few days, the way I know will get him off.
“I’m gonna come,” he says and bucks again in my mouth.
The bell on my door rings and Colton freezes as his cum leaks into my mouth as if it’s an afterthought.
“Colton,” his mom says with a chuckle. “Are you the matchmaker now?”
“Mom,” Colton says and coughs.
He glances down between his legs and my mind scrambles with a million half-assed ways to get out of this. I could’ve dropped a pen, but why would Colton be tucked into the open space in my desk instead of helping me? Nothing explains why I’m down here except that I was just blowing her son.
My head falls against his kneecap and I want to cry from embarrassment.
“Where’s Juno? I brought her this cute knick-knack I found at the flea market in Greywall this weekend. Isn’t it cute? It says, ‘Trust me, I’m a matchmaker.’”
“Yeah. Cute.”
“So, where is she?”
Colton laughs because he always laughs when he’s uncomfortable. I punch his thigh, which only makes him laugh harder.
“She’s looking for something,” he says.
“Where?”
Colton laughs harder now. “Okay, Mom, you know we’re grown and everything, right?”
Oh no, he doesn’t. My hand slides up his pant leg and I pinch any skin I can find.
“Ouch!” He wheels back and grabs his leg.
“What?” His mom sounds panicked because Colton, her only child, is her world. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m sure Juno will be back soon. Just leave it and I’ll give it to her.”
“Oh, I’ll wait. Where’d she go?”
He slyly slides his hands under the desk, tucking himself into his boxers, but he has no choice but to leave his pants open if he doesn’t want to tip her off as to where I am. “I’m not sure. The bank?”
To beg for money if that was the case.
“How are things with the two of you?” she asks.
I hear the vinyl of my guest chair crinkle, suggesting she’s getting comfortable.
“Good.”
“Good as in we’ll be planning another wedding soon?”
I gag and Colton coughs to mask the noise.
“You’re not getting sick, are you, sweetie?”
“No. Don’t come over here. I’m not five, Mom, I don’t have a fever.” He waves her off before she can come over to this side of the desk and see his pants undone and me between his legs.
At least we’ve moved the conversation somewhere other than a wedding. Hello, it’s been one week since he left his bride at the altar for me. What is she thinking?
“Are you sure? You know you sometimes get spring allergies.”
“I’m positive.”
I want to laugh out loud because he just said this morning he’d used up the last of his allergy pills and had to grab some today.
“Listen, Mom, I know she has to head out to Anchorage for a blind speed date thing. I don’t know if she’ll be coming back here before she leaves.”
“When did she start doing that? She’s always just been a matchmaker, not a dating service.”
Leave it to Mrs. Stone to ask questions that will make Colton think harder about what I’m doing. Shit.
“I guess to get more customers. I’m not really sure,” he says.
“Is she okay? You do know to not only talk about yourself in a relationship, right? You have to be a true partner and listen to her as well. It’s a two-way street—”
Colton holds up his hand. “I know. No worries, you’ve taught me well.”
And she has. You never have to worry about that with Colton, which is precisely why I don’t want him to find out about my failing business. He’ll put on his superhero cape. I don’t need him swooping in to save me.
“If you say so.” She’s quiet for a moment. “I’m sad to miss her. I really wanted to hug her because I’m so happy the two of you are finally together.”
Colton smiles at his mom. It’s the one that says he agrees with her.
“Well, I guess I’ll come back tomorrow. Give me a hug.”
“No,” Colton says.
“What?” Mrs. Stone sounds confused.
“I have to go to the bathroom. If I get up and hug you without going to the bathroom first, I might pee myself.”
I bite his jeans to muffle my laugh. That’s the best he could come up with?
“I’ve told you not to hold it. You’ll get a urinary tract infection.”
“Sorry, Mom.”
I cover my mouth before I lose it and crack up under here.
“Uh huh. Okay, love you.”
“Bye, Mom.” He waves and I’m assuming she’s at the door.
“I love you too. Juno, you can come out from under the desk now. Oh, young love. Reminds me of your father and me.”
The door chime rings, and Colton slides out, buttoning and zipping his jeans.
My cheeks are red hot. “I can never face your mother again,” I say, crawling into his lap.
He holds me tightly, kissing my neck. “She might be weirded out, but she’s cool with it.”
“That’s just wrong. For your mom to know I was doing that.”
His fingers run up my back to the back of my head. “And you are a master at that, I’m telling you.”
I climb off his lap. “Don’t you have to go to the bathroom?” I chuckle.
“What was I supposed to say?”
“How about you think you might be catching a cold?”
“You know that wouldn’t stop my mom.”
I nod. “True.” I pick up the box. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” He takes the box from my hands and the bell chimes again.
This time it’s Earl, the mailman.
“Hey, Earl,” Colton says. “Put it in the box.”
Earl does and he nods at me. “Miss Juno. Mr. Colton. Congratulations are in order?”
Colton glances at me over his shoulder and back at Earl. “I guess.”
“Happy to hear it. You make a lovely couple. Have a nice day.”
“You too, Earl,” we say in unison.
I go to the box and pick up the mail, then shove it into my drawer.
“You can open it on the way,” Colton suggests.
“Nah. I’m sure there’s nothing important.” I wave him off.
Hopefully, he didn’t see the red line on the paper through the envelope like I did. Of course if he did, he probably thought nothing of it, having never received a past due notice in his life.