David heard the sound of a throat being cleared and jerked upright, banging his knee against the underside of his desk hard enough to send his bin of paper clips skittering off the side and onto the floor. When he spotted Ryan leaned up against the open doorway, grinning his ass off, David groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face, trying to make the red mark he knew was there fade. "How long have you been standing there?"
Ryan stepped further into the room, his smile never fading as he took a seat across from David and kicked his muddy boots up onto the desk. "You mean, how long have I been watching you bang your head against the desk like a man possessed?" He asked in a slow, Southern drawl. "Long enough."
Well, this is just great.
Ryan was like a dog with a bone whenever anything caught his interest. It made him a fantastic private investigator, despite the fact he usually looked fresh out of a barn with his cowboy hats, ripped up jeans and never ending supply of white tees. But he could be a real pain in the ass when you had something to hide from him. And David was carrying one hell of a secret.
"So..." Ryan leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head, huge arms flexing. "You gonna tell me why you're training to break boards with your damn forehead?"
David sniffed and shot an annoyed look at the boots dirtying up a stack of papers that Ryan conveniently managed to ignore. "Why are you even here? I thought you were going out of town on a case?"
"Got back in this morning. You'd know that if you checked your phone and saw where I text you about going out and celebratin'."
"Wait. Celebrating what?"
Ryan raised a brow, his gaze suddenly looking a little too sharp for David's taste. "A job well done of course. You thought I flew down to Atlanta and came back empty handed?"
David wasn't thinking much of anything at the moment. Whatever his best friend had told him about what he was working on was completely lost in the chaos. Guilt was eating away at the lining of his stomach like acid and yet his traitorous brain was playing the events of the night before on a permanent loop.
Despite taking the longest shower of his life this morning and brushing his teeth until his gums hurt, he could still smell Caetlyn on his skin. Taste her sweat on his tongue. He was banging his head on the desk because making his brain rattle was the only thing that kept the sounds of her moans at bay. They were so sweet. So free. Such a welcome contrast to the innocence she always displayed. Already, blood was rushing to his cock causing it to swell.
He was in trouble. He knew it bone deep. How was he supposed to pretend like a whole new side of him didn't wake up last night? Despite his anxiety this morning, seeing Melissa's ass swish around the house had made him want to bend her over the counter and fuck her until she couldn't stand. And the second Caetlyn showed up and opened that sweet little mouth a nearly overpowering urge had surged up inside him, demanding that he grasp that red hair tight in his fist and fuck her throat.
"Jesus, D." Ryan's low chuckle brought him back to the real world. "Did Mel swing from the chandelier last night or what? Whatever you were just thinking about got you lookin' like a damn tomato."
David croaked out a noise that was almost a laugh as his mind raced to find a way out of this. Ryan would smell a lie like a bloodhound but the truth was out of the question. What would the truth even sound like?
Nah, man. You remember Caetlyn? My wife's twin? Get this. Last night, I was supposed to be sneaking into the house and forcing myself onto my girl. Imagine my surprise when I flipped her over after fucking her for everything she was worth and finding the wrong sister staring back at me. Oh, I also didn't use protection and I pumped her full of more cum than I've let out in a year. What a night, huh?
It would almost,
almost,
be worth it to see Ryan's jaw drop in slack-jawed surprise because nothing ever surprised the guy. Except he also had a profound hatred of cheating husbands, arms the size of a linebacker's and fists that looked closer to shovels. David had no interest in finding himself on the wrong side of those giant things so he settled for a muttered, "Something like that."
"Come on. I don't get details? What kind of friend are you?"
"The kind that isn't sure why we're still in my office instead of at whatever bar you have picked out."
Ryan's feet dropped from the table with a loud thump and he stared in surprise. "I can't believe you ain't putting up more of a fight about drinking at three in the afternoon. Sure you're feeling alright?"
"I'm good." David eyeballed the work sitting uncompleted on his desk with disgust. "Besides, I could really use a fucking drink." He pressed the intercom button on his desk as they both stood. "Keith?"
The sound of bubblegum popping came through the speaker before his assistant said, "Yeah, boss? What's up?"
Ryan smirked at him and David squeezed his eyes closed to keep them from rolling out of his skull. Keith was the best assistant a person could ask for and kept things rolling smoothly like a well-oiled machine, but he had his quirks. An unhealthy obsession with watermelon flavored gum that he insisted on constantly blowing bubbles with was one of them. And although the list was long, that was the main thing that threatened to drive David up the wall most days.
He took a deep, calming breath. "I'm calling it in early today. Ryan and I are heading to..." Ryan mouthed the name of the bar and David fought back another grimace. "Camilla's. You coming?"
