Vivian
I came with his name in my mouth and two fingers buried in my cunt before I even opened the suitcase.
Nick had been gone three days. The ache hadn’t. I’d spent every night of those three days f*****g myself to the memory of his voice on the last call—low, clipped, telling me to forward the revised contracts—and imagining that same voice telling me to spread wider. My vibrator was still on the hotel nightstand, slick, when the front desk rang to say the driver had dropped his forgotten case. Important documents. He needed them before the morning meeting. I was already in the city for the overflow files. Of course I said I’d bring them up.
I wheeled the case into my room instead of straight to his suite. Told myself I’d only check the latch. Curiosity had always been louder than se
