Chapter 204
**Sara**
"What exactly is your job title going to be?" Tom pressed, clearly enjoying this turn of events.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Damn. He had a point.
"That's what I thought." His hand found its way back to my thigh. "So technically, the bet isn't over until you have everything in writing."
"That's not fair!" I protested, even as his touch sent shivers through me. "Lucas offered me the job. We shook on it."
"A handshake isn't a contract, sweetheart." His fingers inched higher. "And I'm not starting my month of torture until you have official confirmation."
I swatted his hand away. "You're just trying to buy more time."
"Maybe." He grinned. "Is it working?"
"No." But even I could hear the uncertainty in my voice. "Fine. When do you propose the month starts?"
"When you have an official offer letter," Tom said, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my thigh, "with all the details - salary, job title, start date. And when you've actually started working there."
"That's ridiculous. You're just trying to delay the inevitable."
"I'm being thorough." His eyes sparkled with amusement. "Can't have any loopholes in our agreement."
"You're cheating," I accused, pushing his wandering hand away.
"How am I cheating? I'm simply ensuring everything is properly documented." He leaned closer, his breath tickling my ear. "Like any good businessman would."
"Now that you know it's Westbridge Capital, who knows what strings you might pull to interfere with my job offer."
Tom pulled back, his expression turning serious. "You really think I'd do that?"
"Your family has connections everywhere."
"Sara." He caught my chin, making me look at him. "I would never sabotage your career. Even if it means enduring a month without touching you."
"Promise?"
"Cross my heart." His thumb brushed my lower lip. "Besides, watching you succeed on your own merits is incredibly sexy."
I raised an eyebrow. "You know what else is incredibly sexy?"
"What's that?" His voice dropped lower.
I leaned in close, my lips nearly touching his ear. "Watching you squirm when you can't have what you want."
Tom groaned, pulling back. "You're evil."
"Just making sure you know what you're in for." I traced a finger down his chest. "A whole month of nothing."
"Not yet," he reminded me. "Not until everything's official."
"True." I shifted closer, letting my leg brush against his. "So what should we do until then?"
His eyes darkened. "I have a few ideas."
"What kind of ideas?" I traced my finger along his jawline.
"Well..." His hand slid up my thigh. "Since we're not technically bound by the bet yet..."
I swatted his wandering fingers. "Nuh-uh. Details first. Use your words."
"I was thinking," he said, catching my hand and bringing it to his lips, "that we could test out some of those scenarios I mentioned earlier."
"The ones from your planned week of debauchery?"
"Mmhmm." His teeth grazed my knuckles. "Consider it a preview of coming attractions."
I laughed. "Coming attractions? Really? Did you steal that line from a bad porn movie?"
"Hey, I'm trying to be seductive here."
"Keep trying. Maybe you'll get there eventually."
His eyes narrowed playfully. "You're awfully mouthy for someone who was moaning my name last Sunday."
"Was I? I don't recall. Must not have been very memorable."
In one swift move, he pulled me onto his lap. "I'll show you memorable."
I landed on his lap with a small "oof," his arms wrapping around my waist to hold me steady.
"Well?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "You still haven't told me your ideas."
"So demanding. Where should I start?"
"Anywhere. Just use your words like a big boy."
He nipped at my earlobe in retaliation. "First, I'd tie your hands behind your back with that silk tie you love so much."
"The black one?"
"Mhm. Then I'd blindfold you with another."
"You're going to ruin perfectly good ties."
"I'll buy more." His hands slid down to my hips. "Then I'd lay you out on my bed and take my time exploring every inch of you. Starting here..." His finger traced my collarbone. "Working my way down... very... slowly..."
"That's not very specific," I teased, though my breath hitched as his hands wandered.
"No? How's this - I'd start by kissing that sensitive spot behind your ear, the one that makes you squirm. Then down your neck, across your shoulders..." His lips followed the path he described, making me tilt my head to give him better access.
"Go on."
"I'd use ice cubes next. Trace them over your nipples while they're still covered in lace. Watch them harden under the fabric."
"The ice cubes or my nipples?"
He pinched my side. "Brat."
"Just asking for clarification. You said to be specific."
"Fine. Your nipples would harden as I run the melting ice over them. Is that better?"
"Much. What else?"
His hands slid under my thighs. "I'd spread your legs wide, hook them over my shoulders."
"And?"
"And then I'd show you exactly how memorable I can be with my tongue."
I squirmed in his lap. "That's slightly more specific."
"Want more details?" His voice dropped lower. "Like how I'd trace circles around your clit until you're begging? Or how I'd slide two fingers inside you while-"
"Okay!" I cut him off, my face burning. "That's specific enough."
"But I haven't even gotten to the main part," Tom's eyes glinted with mischief, his fingers drawing lazy circles on my thigh.
I shifted on his lap, trying to ignore the heat building between my legs. "There's more?"
"Oh, so much more." His breath tickled my neck. "Want to hear it?"
"I'm not sure my poor heart can take it." But curiosity got the better of me. "Fine. What's this main part?"
"After I've got you right on the edge, trembling and begging."
"I don't beg," I interrupted.
He smirked. "You did last weekend. Twice."
"That was different."
"Sure it was." His hand slid higher up my thigh. "As I was saying - once you're desperate for release, I'd flip you over. Your hands still tied behind your back, face pressed into the mattress."
My breath caught. "And?"
"I'd spread your legs wide, run my hands up the back of your thighs." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Then I'd take you from behind, hard and deep, while you're still sensitive from before."
"That's the main part?"
He chuckled darkly. "No, the main part is how I'd reach around, slide my fingers between your legs while I'm inside you. Work you up again until you're shaking."
"Tom..." My voice came out embarrassingly breathy.
"But I wouldn't let you come. Not yet." His teeth grazed my earlobe. "I'd keep you right on the edge, make you feel every thrust, every touch..."
"For how long?" I managed to ask.
"Until you're sobbing with need. Until you forget everything except how good it feels. Until the only word you remember is my name."
I squirmed in his lap. "That's quite specific."
"I can be more specific if you'd like. Like how I'd grip your hips so hard they'd bruise. Or how I'd pull your hair back just the way you-"
"Okay! I get the picture!" My face felt like it was on fire.
"You sure? Because I haven't even mentioned what I'd do with the vibrator yet."
I clamped my hand over his mouth. "Not another word."
He licked my palm, making me snatch my hand back with a yelp.
"Did you just lick me?"
"You taste good." He grinned unrepentantly.
I rolled my eyes but couldn't help smiling. "Real mature, Professor."
"I'm not your professor anymore," Tom reminded me, his hands settling on my waist. "Which means I can be as immature as I want."
"Lucky me." I tried to sound sarcastic, but the effect was ruined by my grin.
"Very lucky." He pulled me closer. "Now, where was I with those plans?"
"Nope!" I scrambled off his lap. "I need to check my email and see if HR sent anything."
Tom groaned. "You're killing me here."
"Patience is a virtue," I sang, dancing out of his reach.
"I'm not feeling particularly virtuous right now."
I grabbed my phone from the coffee table. "You should try meditation. I hear it helps with frustration."
"The only thing that would help right now is-"
"Look!" I waved my phone triumphantly. "An email from Westbridge!"
Tom perked up. "Is it the offer letter?"
"No," I deflated slightly. "I'm just confirming my start date for next Monday, and HR will send the paperwork tomorrow."
"So technically-"
"Don't even start." I pointed a warning finger at him. "The bet stands."
"The bet starts when everything's official," he countered.
"The bet started when I got the job."
"The job you don't technically have yet."
I threw a cushion at his head, aiming for that smug grin he always wore when he thought he was being clever.
He caught it easily, his reflexes annoyingly quick as usual, and tucked it behind his back with an even wider smile.
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