Chapter 13: Sext
The elevator doors slid shut, sealing them in a silent, polished brass tomb. Garrett watched their reflection—a tall, athletic man in a slightly-too-large navy suit standing beside a petite, sharp-eyed blonde in a devastatingly tailored black dress and heels. It was like looking at a badly labeled museum exhibit.
“Just breathe,” Katy said, her voice a low murmur. She reached over and adjusted his tie, her fingers deft and sure. “Shoulders back. You’re the boss. Remember that.”
“I feel like a kid who stole his mom’s credit card,” he muttered, the knot of the tie feeling like a noose.
“Well, you look the part. That’s ninety percent of it.” The elevator chimed, a soft, expensive sound. “Showtime.”
The doors opened onto a floor of muted grays and gleaming glass. The air hummed with the quiet energy of focused work and the faint scent of lemon cleaner. A young woman with a severe ponytail looked up from a reception desk. “Ms. Thorne! We didn’t expect you in today.”
Katy, inhabiting Garrett’s body, gave a smooth, easy smile. “Change of plans, Sarah. This is my cousin, Garrett. He’s in town to shadow me for a bit. Get a feel for the industry.”
Sarah’s eyes flickered to Garrett, a polite, professional appraisal. “Of course. Nice to meet you, Garrett.”
“You too,” Katy said from within Garrett's body, her voice coming out a bit thin. She forced a smile, feeling the unfamiliar stretch of Garrett’s lips.
They moved past the desk and into the open-plan office. Eyes lifted from monitors, followed their progress. He felt every glance like a physical touch. Katy guided him with a light hand on his lower back, a gesture that was both possessive and steering.
“Conference room, ten o’clock,” she murmured, her voice barely a breath. “That’s Ben from marketing. Avoid him, he talks in circles for hours.”
“Avoid him, he talks in circles for hours.” Katy’s whisper was a low rumble in Garrett’s ear, using his own vocal cords with an ease he envied. They navigated the sea of cubicles, a silent parade under the fluorescent lights.
Garrett, trapped in Katy’s smaller frame, focused on placing one heel in front of the other without stumbling. The unfamiliar weight of her hair brushed against his neck, a constant reminder of the impossible situation. Every sound—the click of keyboards, the murmur of conversation—felt amplified, grating against his nerves.
A phone buzzed, the vibration humming against Katy’s hip where Garrett’s phone was tucked into his suit pants pocket. She slipped a hand in, glanced at the screen, and a slow grin spread across Garrett’s face. “Speak of the devil,” she murmured, showing him the display. “Dominique.”
Garrett’s stomach flipped. “What does she want?”
Before Katy could answer, Sarah from reception hurried over, her expression apologetic. “Ms. Thorne? I’m so sorry to interrupt, but Accounting needs you to approve the quarterly disbursements. It’s urgent—they’re holding up a wire transfer.”
Garrett froze, his mind blank. Katy stepped in smoothly. “Of course. Lead the way, Sarah.” She gave Garrett’s arm a subtle push. “Go on, Katy. I’ll catch up in a minute.”
Left with no choice, Garrett followed Sarah toward a glass-walled office, feeling Katy’s gaze on his back. As he walked away, Katy pulled out the phone, her thumbs flying over the screen.
Dominique: Hey you. Counting down the hours tonight. Got any special plans for me?
Katy chuckled, a low sound that felt strange coming from Garrett’s chest. She started typing, falling into step behind Garrett and the accountant.
Garrett (Katy): Wouldn’t you like to know. Let’s just say I’ve been thinking about you all morning.
She hit send and watched Garrett’s figure disappear into the office. The door closed, and she leaned against the wall outside, fully immersed in the game.
Dominique: Oh yeah? What exactly are you thinking about? Be specific.
A thrill, sharp and unexpected, shot through Katy. This was a new kind of power. She bit Garrett’s lip, considering her response.
Garrett (Katy): How soft your skin is. Where I’m going to kiss you first. How long I can make you wait before you beg.
From inside the office, she could see Garrett sitting stiffly at a desk, staring at a monitor with a look of pure panic. The contrast between his reality and her digital fantasy was delicious.
Dominique: You’re being very bold today. I like it. Maybe I won’t make you wait at all.
Katy’s pulse quickened. She imagined Dominique’s hands, her mouth, what it would feel like to touch a woman as a man. The thought was intoxicating, a dizzying rush of possibility.
Garrett (Katy): Promise? I’ve got a whole evening mapped out. Don’t wear anything complicated.
She hit send just as the office door opened. Garrett emerged, looking pale but relieved. Katy slipped the phone back into her pocket, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. The day had just gotten infinitely more interesting.
The buzz against his hip was a persistent insect. Katy pulled Garrett’s phone out again, her thumb smudging the screen as she swiped it open. The preview text from Dominique was just three words: “A little preview.”
She tapped the image.
It loaded instantly, stark and explicit on the bright screen. A picture of a butt plug, its jeweled base a garish pink, nestled between two deep brown buttocks. Katy’s breath hitched. A low, warm thrum started deep in Garrett’s body, a foreign engine turning over. She remembered the sharp, full feeling from her own past, the shocking intimacy of it. The idea of being the one to give that feeling, to watch someone’s face as she pressed into them, sent a jolt straight to his groin.
Garrett (Katy): Jesus. You’re trying to kill me before I even get there.
She hit send, her pulse a quick drum in Garrett’s wrists. She could feel a distinct, unfamiliar tightness in the suit pants, a heavy ache that was entirely new. This was nothing like the diffuse warmth she’d explored in the shower; this was a focused, demanding pressure.
“Are you even listening?” Garrett’s voice, her voice, was sharp with frustration. He was standing over a spreadsheet printout, jabbing a perfectly manicured finger at a column of numbers. “This makes no sense. Why would we approve this?”
Katy didn’t look up from the phone. “Just initial it, Katy. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine! This is a six-figure discrepancy.” He leaned closer, hissing the words. “What is wrong with you? You’ve been on that thing all morning.”
Dominique: Just making sure you’re motivated. Can’t wait to feel you tonight. All of you.
Katy’s mind conjured the image again, but now she was in it, her hands—Garrett’s hands—gripping those hips. The idea was a dark, thrilling current under her skin. She typed back, her fingers clumsy with a excitement that felt both alien and deeply her own.
Garrett (Katy): Keep thinking like that and I won’t make it past the front door.
Garrett (Katy): I want to see you on your knees the second I walk in. That mouth of yours better be ready.
He watched the three dots appear and dance, a tiny animation that felt like a countdown. The air in the office was suddenly too thick, too warm. He could feel a faint, clammy sweat breaking out on Katy’s skin, a stark contrast to the heat building in his own borrowed body.
“This is a disaster,” Garrett whispered, shoving the spreadsheet away. The numbers bled into a meaningless gray blob. “I have no idea what any of this means. They’re going to know.”
“Just initial it,” Katy’s voice came from his own mouth, low and distracted. She didn’t even look up from the phone, her thumb hovering over the send button. The command was so casual, so utterly dismissive, it felt like a slap.
Dominique: You’re all talk today. Prove it.
Katy’s breath caught. A raw, possessive impulse surged through her, so potent it made Garrett’s hands tremble slightly. She typed quickly, the words feeling both foreign and utterly right.
Garrett (Katy): You want proof? I’m hard just thinking about filling that pretty mouth. You’re going to taste me all night.
She hit send and finally looked up, meeting Garrett’s wide, horrified eyes. The thrill of the exchange was a live wire under her skin, a stark, exhilarating contrast to the sterile office environment. She gave a slow, deliberate shrug of Garrett’s shoulders, a gesture that was entirely her own.
“What?” she said, her tone flat. “You have a girlfriend. I’m just maintaining your cover.”
“Maintaining—? You’re sexting her like a porn star!” he hissed, leaning forward. The movement was too sharp, and he nearly knocked a ceramic pencil holder off the desk. “You’re going to get me killed.”
“Relax. She loves it.” The phone buzzed again, a violent vibration against her thigh. She glanced down, a smirk playing on Garrett’s lips. “See?”
Dominique: Fuck. I’m at my desk and now I’m soaked. This is your fault.
Katy laughed, a short, sharp sound that drew a look from a passing employee. She didn’t care. The power was addictive, a drug flooding a system it was never meant to inhabit. She typed back, her movements sure and fast.
Garrett (Katy): Good. Keep your fingers busy thinking about mine. I want to feel how wet you are for me the second I touch you.
Garrett stared, his mind reeling. This was his body, his voice, his life, being puppeteered into a corner he couldn’t escape. The meeting, the numbers, the impending disaster of Dominique’s arrival—it was all collapsing into a single, inescapable point of no return. The phone in Katy’s hand felt like a lit fuse.
The phone in Katy’s hand felt like a lit fuse. Garrett watched, helpless, as her thumbs—his thumbs—danced across the screen, crafting another crude promise to a woman he was supposed to love. The sterile office air grew thick, suffocating, each fluorescent light humming with his rising panic.
“Give it to me,” he said, his voice low and strained.
Katy didn’t even look up. “In a second. She’s almost—”
He moved before he could think, a quick lunge across the desk that sent a stack of papers fluttering to the floor. His smaller, manicured hand closed over the phone, yanking it from her grasp. The cool metal case felt foreign in his palm. “That’s enough.”
“Hey!” Katy protested, Garrett’s face twisting in affront. “What is your problem?”
“My problem is you’re getting off on torching my relationship while I’m drowning in your job!” The words were a sharp hiss, meant only for her. He gestured wildly at the scattered spreadsheets, the blinking monitor displaying financial charts he couldn’t decipher. “This is your company, Katy. Your mess. Start acting like it.”
The anger in his own eyes, staring back at him from her face, seemed to give her pause. She blinked, her bravado faltering as she truly looked at the chaos on the desk, the genuine terror he couldn’t hide. A slow flush crept up Garrett’s neck—her tell for shame.
“I… I was just…” she stammered, the excuse dying on her lips.
“You were being selfish,” Garrett finished, his tone flat and final. He dropped into the chair opposite her, the phone now a heavy weight in his lap. “Do your job. I’ll handle mine.”
For a long moment, Katy just stared at the disordered papers. Then, with a quiet sigh that sounded so wrong coming from his chest, she pulled the keyboard toward her and began to type, her focus shifting to the columns of numbers with a startling intensity.
Alone with the buzzing phone, Garrett took a deep breath. A new message from Dominique glowed on the screen.
Dominique: You still there? Don’t leave me hanging like this.
His heart hammered against Katy’s ribs. He thought of the preview image, the intimate demand in it. A part of him was still horrified, but another, quieter part was curious. This was a language he’d never learned, a dynamic he’d only ever observed from the other side. He tapped a reply, his movements hesitant at first.
Garrett (Katy): Sorry. Got distracted. You’re a lot to handle.
He hit send. The response was immediate.
Dominique: You have no idea. So, about tonight… are you going to make good on all that talk?
He glanced over at Katy. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, her real self momentarily visible through the mask of his features. She was working. He needed to work, too. He typed again, a slow, deliberate smile touching Katy’s lips as a strange sense of ownership settled over him.
Garrett (Katy): Every word.
He stared at the sent message, the phone a hot brick in his hand. The sterile office air felt charged, every click of a keyboard or rustle of paper now sounding like an accusation. His own heartbeat was a frantic drum in Katy’s ears.
Dominique: Prove it. Tell me what you’re going to do.
Garrett’s throat went dry. He could feel Katy’s gaze, a physical weight from across the desk, even though she was pretending to study the monitor. He typed, the words feeling clumsy and alien.
Garrett (Katy): I’m going to start by tasting every part of you.
He hit send before he could second-guess it. A shiver, not entirely unpleasant, traced its way down his spine—her spine.
Dominique: Tell me more Garrett.
A flush of heat spread across his chest. He remembered the preview image, the intimate boldness of it. A strange, defiant curiosity overpowered his embarrassment. This was a language he was being forced to learn, a landscape he had to navigate.
Garrett (Katy): I’m going to put you on your stomach and eat your ass until you’re shaking.
The vulgarity of the words on the screen, sent from his own number, made his head feel light. The clinical surroundings of the office sharpened into hyper-focused detail—the grain of the wood desk, the hum of the server tower in the corner.
Dominique: God yes. And then?
His fingers moved faster now, driven by a mix of panic and a dark, burgeoning thrill. He was describing a act of possession, something he had only ever received.
Garrett (Katy): Then I’ll use my fingers. One, then two. Slow circles until you’re begging for more.
Across the desk, Katy made a small, choked sound. She was no longer looking at the screen but at him, her expression unreadable. Garrett ignored her, his entire world narrowed to the glowing rectangle in his hands.
Dominique: I’m already begging. Don’t stop.
He took a sharp, quiet breath. The ache he’d felt earlier in Katy’s body was a distant memory compared to the tight, demanding pressure now building in his own. He was hard, a fact that was both terrifying and intensely grounding.
Garrett (Katy): I won’t stop until you’re ready. Until you’re desperate to take my cock into your asshole.
He sent the final message and finally looked up, meeting Katy’s wide-eyed stare. The phone buzzed instantly with Dominique’s response, a frantic vibration against his palm, but he didn’t look away from his cousin. The air between them was thick, charged with the explicit fantasy he had just crafted.
Katy slowly leaned forward, her voice a low, husky whisper that was entirely her own. “Well,” she said, a faint, appreciative smile touching her lips. “Look at you.”
“Look at you.” Katy’s whisper was a blade, sharp and intimate in the sterile office air. Her eyes, his eyes, held a glint of pure, undiluted amusement. “Who knew you had that in you?”
Garrett couldn’t answer. The phone was a hot, guilty weight in his hand. A different, more immediate warmth soaked through the silk of Katy’s underwear, a shocking dampness that made the chair feel suddenly cold. He shifted, and the subtle, slick sensation against his skin sent a fresh jolt of humiliation through him.
He’d gotten off on his own words. On the graphic promises he’d typed to his own girlfriend.
“I have to… bathroom,” he muttered, standing up too quickly. The movement felt unsteady, the world tilting for a second.
“Don’t be long,” Katy said, her voice dripping with a knowing casualness. “We still have to finalize the Q3 projections.” She turned back to the monitor as if he’d just commented on the weather.
He practically fled, his heels clicking a frantic rhythm on the polished concrete floor. The bathroom was a palace of cool marble and muted lighting. He locked himself in the farthest stall, leaning his forehead against the door. His heart hammered, a wild, trapped thing in Katy’s chest.
He pulled down the delicate lace of the underwear. The evidence was undeniable, a dark, damp patch on the pale silk. The musky, intimate scent of Katy’s arousal—his arousal now—filled the small space. His hands trembled as he wadded up a handful of toilet paper.
He cleaned himself with clumsy, frantic strokes, the paper turning soft and translucent. The physical reality of it was staggering. A few texts. Some dirty words on a screen. That was all it had taken to reduce him to this, to trigger a response so completely outside his own experience. He felt like a stranger living in his own skin, a passenger in a body with its own volatile wiring.
He tossed the paper into the bowl and flushed, the roaring water drowning out his ragged breath. He straightened the dress, smoothed his hair—her hair—in the mirror. The person staring back had flushed cheeks and wide, startled eyes. He looked thoroughly, undeniably fucked, and he hadn’t even been touched.
When he returned to the desk, Katy was waiting, one of Garrett’s eyebrows arched. “All good?”
“Fine,” Garrett snapped, his voice tight. He slid the phone across the desk toward her. “You should probably see the… the rest of it.”
She picked it up, her thumb scrolling with a detached efficiency. He watched her face, waiting for any sign of disgust, of shock at the explicit role she was now required to play. There was none. Her expression remained neutral, analytical, as if reviewing a business contract.
She finished reading and set the phone down. A slow, genuine smile spread across Garrett’s features. “Okay,” she said, a hint of a laugh in her voice. “So, I’m eating ass tonight.”
Garrett just stared. “That’s all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say?” She shrugged, leaning back in the chair and lacing his fingers behind his head. “It’s a new experience. For both of us, technically.” Her eyes met his, and the amusement in them was bright and unsettling. “Honestly? I’m kind of curious.”
The casual admission hung between them. She wasn’t horrified. She was intrigued. The part of him that was still reeling from the physical shock in the bathroom felt a dizzying lurch. His body, his relationship, was now just a fascinating new playground for her.
“Curious,” he repeated, the word tasting flat.
“Yeah, curious.” She leaned forward again, her voice dropping, all business. “Now, about these projections. We need to get this wrapped up before five so we can head out on time"