8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Amelia

O h my God, oh my God, oh my God.

Why on earth had I not noticed that I'd been sitting in Desmond's lap? Okay, not really, but almost .

I pushed my trousers and underwear down and sat to pee.

Also, why couldn't I stop rubbing the spot where I could still feel his arm pressing against mine?

It had felt so good. More than good judging by the state of my knickers.

Shoot.

A wet spot on the burgundy fabric showed just how much my body had been enjoying what my head hadn't even realised was happening. And I knew I would find myself slick with arousal when I wiped.

Sure enough, I needed three tries to get it dry enough to feel comfortable, only to cringe when I pulled my underwear back up and felt the cool, wet fabric on my skin.

Ugh, that sure doesn't feel nice. I should keep a spare pair of knickers in the bathroom.

I flushed, washed my hands for long minutes so I could drag out the moment when I had to face him again, then slowly trudged back to the living room.

Desmond was still sitting in the exact same spot on my couch, giving me an unsure half smile.

I mean, it's not like he pulled away either.

"I think that's enough for today," he told me when I sat down. "How about we leave it at that, end on a positive note and carry on another time? Next weekend perhaps?"

He wants to continue this? And was the positive note us basically cuddling or me finally understanding how sum functions worked in spreadsheets?

"Good idea. My brain feels really full now."

"Good," he echoed, the half smile widening as he got up. "Thanks for the tea and the shortbread."

"Thank you for helping me!" I got up, too .

"I'll miss all the shortbread and I might be making myself redundant, but it's my pleasure, Mia."

Don't start grinning like a fool! And don't think of a yellow car!

"I bring a new batch every Monday. Feel free to drop by and get some before Carson gets his grabby hands on it."

Oh my God. What am I saying?

Something dark and fierce had flashed in his eyes at my words and he inhaled so deeply I feared for his henley.

"I was talking about shortbread," I murmured in a tiny voice, hugging my arms tightly around my middle.

"Sorry if I scared you. We wolves can be pretty stupid when we go into, what did you call it? White knight mode?" He seemed to be pissed off at himself.

"You weren't scaring me. But I was actually talking about shortbread."

The intimidation had passed and a warm and cosy feeling—reminding me of the heat emanating from a wood burner—flooded me.

"I'll always have some shortbread for you, even though I won't need your help all the time. And I think Mr Carson's husband would have his dick on a platter if he so much as looked at me funny." I spoke without thinking, then clapped my hand over my mouth.

Desmond blinked, before laughing so hard tears were soon trickling out from under his glasses.

"Have you met Carson's husband?" He pushed his glasses up and wiped the wetness off his cheeks. "His dick on a platter." He broke down with renewed laughter.

"I haven't in person, no."

Why is he so attractive even when he's cry-laughing?

"Oh, you'll meet him at the Christmas party," he wheezed, then sobered up a little. "You'll be there, won't you?"

"Of course, yeah. Well, I hope so, at least. My trial period ends a couple of days before."

"They'll extend the contract, I'm sure of it."

"Hopefully." I shrugged, trying not to let it show just how nervous I was about it. "Maybe they'll keep me now I won't be so useless on a computer."

"We'll get you up to scratch, okay? I promise." All the humour had gone from his face and he reached out to brush my shoulder with his hand, sending shivers over my skin even though I only felt it through my shirt.

"Okay. Uh, are you here by car?"

"Hm? No, I took the bus, why?"

"I thought I could walk with you to the bus stop and then do my shopping. If you want that, of course, it's no big deal if you—"

"I want that."

Stop making me fall for you!

We bundled up, occasionally catching each other's eye and grinning sheepishly.

Desmond waited until I'd locked my door, then awkwardly gestured for me to lead the way. He wasn't exactly my usual type—I'd never dated a techie—but if I wasn't super careful I might actually fall for him.

I guess it was pretty safe for me to do that, though…

He's too smart to be interested in you anyway.