Chapter 11
MAVERICK
The hot water pounded my back as I stroked my dick from root to tip. I had to lean down because I was too tall for the shower head, bracing my forearm on the tile. My dick ached with the need to come, throbbing as I ran my thumb over the tip, smearing a drop of pre-cum.
I imagined it was Bridget gripping me, knowing her little fingers wouldn’t fit all the way around. That she’d look up at me with those green eyes wondering if she was doing it right.
I’d cover her hand with mine, show her how I liked it.
A groan escaped as the base of my spine tingled. I was going to come. Fucking finally.
On the ride back to the hotel room my assistant reserved for me, my dick hadn’t gotten the inner-office memo that Bridget was mad at me.
That it wasn’t getting inside her until I got some shit figured out.
That my right hand was going to be tackling the job, just like it had for a while now.
Only I had plenty of new images in my spank bank.
Even though she thought I was using a position of power to get in her panties, just like my father had often enough with a decade or two of secretaries, my dick hadn’t gone down since Bridget rode my thigh back at the office.
I groaned again, remembering how she felt. Smelled. How she tasted. How she responded, even for such a short time. The sound of my strokes mixed with the hot spray.
I tightened my grip, stroked faster.
Then I remembered the way she moaned and whimpered. She’d been right there with me. The chemistry between us was off the charts. I couldn’t remember a woman so responsive, although I couldn’t remember any other woman.
My balls got tight and I rested my forehead against the tile. With a rough growl, I came in thick spurts. Gritted my teeth. The release was so fucking powerful little black dots clouded my vision.
“Fuck,” I said, trying to catch my breath.
I vowed to get her beneath me because it was going to be so good. Explosive. If I felt like this just thinking of her, having her might just kill me.
I shut off the water, sighed. Stepped out and grabbed a towel.
I was an asshole. I was an old man in comparison to her.
Her boss. Hell, worse than that. I owned the fucking company.
And I kissed her. In the office. No, that hadn’t been kissing.
If she hadn’t stopped me, I’d have had her jeans dangling from one ankle and my dick so deep inside her she’d be squirming because it would be too much for her to take.
I had zero control with her. Why her? Why did she have to be so fucking young? I didn’t understand how she made me this insane. Because that was the only explanation for how I was feeling.
She was clumsy and a touch awkward, which was endearing.
She was also the victim of a–from what I could tell–a serial harasser for boss.
Clearly, she hadn’t felt able to defend herself or felt she had a resource for help.
The fact that she thought I would use her sex quiz as leverage over her made me wonder if Jimenez was the only asshole in her life.
If she’d dealt with other men like him, like my dad.
That last thought had me feeling ruthlessly protective of her.
It wasn’t because it was my responsibility as business owner to foster an environment of safety for all employees.
She was young. A tiny thing. I wanted to hold her and listen to the list of men who fucked her over, then take that list and go beat the shit out of them.
I wanted to do it because I knew the kind of man who did this shit and I refused to be like him.
I wanted to solve all her problems. Shoulder all her worries and fears because I was big enough to handle all of them.
Jason Jimenez, the fucker, was gone. I solved one of them.
And that quiz? It was, no doubt, meant to be silly and fun, like her friend Mallory. But for Bridget, it really was grounds for firing as she said. It also revealed her naughtiest thoughts which made my dick stir all over again.
She was exposed. Unprotected and with no safety net. How my father maintained his control. He made women vulnerable. Didn’t give them a way out that offered them any kind of respect.
I had to give her one. I was the only person who could ease her mind. Let her know she was safe with me. In her job, with her secrets and with her heart.
Yeah, that too. Because I was somehow falling for this woman. Age be damned.
The James Inn wasn’t the only thing I had to work on here.
I realized just how to start fixing this mess as I left the steamy bathroom and traded the towel for boxers.
My cell pinged. I picked it up from the charger on the bedside table and read the text.
Farrah - Call me.
I sighed. Not happening now. It was the second one from her today. She was my friend, but she’d have to wait. I had a different woman I had to tackle first.
Grabbing my laptop, I got to work.