The Winner Takes All (Complete Collection)

4. The Pie Strategy

4

THE PIE STRATEGY

Hunter

The door to Nate’s three-story condo shuts with a loud snap, sealing us into his home.

Holy shit.

This is real.

This is happening. For a terrifying second, all my confidence slinks out the door.

I’m inside a man’s home. A man who wants me. A man who’s craving the same things I am.

I might have strutted into the carnival with all the cool of a cheetah, but now that I’m this close to my fantasies I’m an anxious Chihuahua.

I don’t want to make a mistake. Maybe I should tell him I’m a virgin. I’ve only ever kissed a man. Groped and grinded with clothes on.

I could tell him the truth seductively as I tug at his shirt, as I drag my fingers down his chest. As I lure him closer with my charm.

I could whisper, I’ve never been with a guy, but I’m up for anything .

Except what if that means he won’t kiss the fuck out of me? What if that makes him too afraid to push me against the wall?

Right now, Nate Chandler stares at me with blue eyes that darken with desire.

My chest heats up. Hell, my whole body is on fire.

Fuck the truth.

I don’t owe anyone my secrets, especially when my secrets and I are getting on a plane in a few hours.

I muster all my confidence and channel it into my desires. “Well, give me an idea of how this show starts.”

Smiling, all crooked and cocky, he advances toward me, grabs the neck of my shirt, and tugs me against him. “Come with me,” he whispers hotly.

What? We’re going to his bedroom already? Am I ready for that? Is everything on the table?

My pulse skitters, but when Nate turns around, he heads to the kitchen.

Oh.

Whew. Yes. That’s better.

He yanks off his shirt, tosses it on the counter, then stops at the sink. After grabbing a towel, he wets it. “C’mere,” he says.

Well, that’s direct too. But I don’t have much to compare him to except the few men I’ve met in bars in London.

Most are coyer. They want to play games. I don’t want games. I want…touch.

Nate gets that.

I stride over to him, closing the distance quickly.

Then he darts out his hand, swipes the towel down my nose. “There.”

My cheeks redden. “There was pie on my nose the whole time, and you didn’t tell me?”

“It was cute,” he says with a smile.

“Pie on my nose is not cute,” I say.

An impish grin glides across his mouth then reaches his eyes. “A little cute,” he whispers, then I snag the towel from him, wet it, and clean a speck of cherries from his jaw. A smidge on his cheek. A dot on his neck.

“Now we’re even,” I say.

“Are we?” Nate asks. It comes out husky, a little rough.

“Maybe if you tell me more about your show idea, we will be,” I say.

He grabs my hips. “About my idea…”

His hands. The possession. It’s beyond sexy. “Yes?” I ask, hot everywhere.

“Here’s another possibility for the show. What if it starts with the Brit kissing the American?”

“That’s a good start,” I say.

He rubs his thumb along my lower back. “Do it,” he urges, all low and growly.

This is what I’ve craved—someone direct and dirty.

With my heart stuttering and my dick thumping, I rope my arms around his neck, bring my mouth to his, and start nice and slow.

His lips are full and confident, and he tastes incredible. I explore his mouth, wanting to capture every second of this kiss and whatever it might turn into.

As I do, I draw out heady gasps from the big athlete. The sounds he makes are intoxicating, and I want more of his moans.

Nate loops his hands around my waist, his fingers curling tight. “Mmm. Glad you invited yourself over.”

That truth in his words, the utter awareness of my motives, unlocks some honesty in me. “Me too. I really wanted an excuse to leave with you. I took a chance that getting you dirtier might work.”

Nate points to the hinge of his jaw. “And I think there’s more pie right here.”

“Let me take care of that,” I say then help myself to another kiss.

A guttural moan falls from his lips. Then one more as my mouth travels across his cheek on a hunt for pie that’s not there. I kiss his cheekbone, the edge of his jaw, his neck. Then, my lips linger near his earlobe.

“Did you get any here?” I ask as I lift my hand and hover it over the shell of his ear.

“Probably,” he mutters and stretches his neck beautifully, inviting me to explore the landscape of his skin.

I oblige, trailing my lips over his cheek, his chin. As I go, I cup his face, stroking his jaw with my thumb.

When I break the kiss, Nate looks down at me. “Fuck, you’re sexy,” he says, his voice stripped bare. There’s something so raw, so real about the way he talks to me. I’m so tempted to open up too.

But in a heartbeat, Nate shifts in my arms.

And the moment for talking vanishes.

He’s a lion, his mouth a hunter. He claims me, fusing those lush lips to mine in a hot kiss.

One quick yank and the pro-athlete has me at his mercy, my pelvis against his. Those big hands curl around my hips as his mouth makes me his prisoner.

This is all new too—a man kissing me with this kind of passion.

Nate is a relentless kisser, all teeth and urgency. He plunges his tongue into my mouth, kissing deeply, like he needs this kiss for sustenance. Like he’s been starving.

His thumbs dig into my hipbones, his tongue tangles with mine, and his kiss is utterly demanding. This feels so good and so much better than all my dirty dreams. But my dirty dreams go well beyond kissing. I break away, breathless and panting.

And so damn ready.

I announce my intentions as I drop to my knees, and I tug at the waistband of his shorts.

“Fuck,” he mutters, sounding helpless and horny.

I’ve got a long list of things I want to do with a man, for a man, and to a man. Top among them is this, so it’s a wicked thrill to ask at last, “Can I suck your dick?”

“God, yes,” Nate mutters.

But it’s a bigger thrill to hear his desperate answer.

He helps me along, quickly unties his shorts. Seconds later, he pushes down his boxer briefs, his thick cock springing free.

He steps out of his clothes. He’s naked and incredible. And he wants me to please him.

I’m both terrified and excited.

Do what you like. Do what feels good. You’ve got this .

I hope my eagerness makes up for any lack of finesse. Wrapping a fist around the base of his cock, I dip my head, kiss the tip. We both moan at the same damn time.

That’s so arousing that my dick throbs.

I let my own desire be my guide as I draw the head of his cock past my lips, flicking my tongue over the crown and moaning as I lap up the first salty drops.

“Ah, that’s so good,” Nate mutters, and he sounds lost already.

His encouragement is everything I could ever want.