Chapter 27
LAWSON
Carlie takes my cock in her hand and swirls her tongue around the tip, taking the pearl of pre-cum that leaks with the motion. I groan, hands fisting at my sides. “Fuck, baby.”
“You like that, Laws?” Big brown eyes look up at me, and it’s almost my undoing. Almost.
“Fuck, you have no idea,” I grind out.
I swear her eyes darken with that one phrase, and she takes me further into her mouth.
Sweet fucking Christ.
It takes all I have to stay rooted to the spot, to not slam into her pretty mouth as her pink lips slide down my cock.
She sucks her way back up, and I groan. I tangle my hands into her hair to hold myself still.
With every long, savoring pull of her mouth, it takes more and more to not fuck that pretty mouth, rough, the way I’m desperate to.
“Princess, unless you want it all, you better stop.”
“Uh huh,” she mumbles around my rigid shaft, her thumb tracking across the sensitive skin beneath my balls. Heat licks up my spine on the next stroke of her perfect damn tongue over the tip.
Yes . . . ? No?
No, don’t come?
No, she doesn’t care?
“Carlie,” I growl, my grip in her hair tightening.
She shakes her head.
Fuck, woman.
She slips a hand down to her pussy, her thumb brushing over her clit on a whimper, and I lose it.
Palming her face, I slam into her mouth. Her eyes water, her whimpers turning into moans. Her fingers wrap around my wrist as she takes me deeper and deeper. Her flawless breasts bounce with every thrust I make into her mouth.
She cries around my cock as she comes, riding her fingers as I release ropey shots onto the back of her tongue.
“Ah, fu-uck, Princess.”
She swallows, taking every drop I give her.
Her trembling fingers leave her pussy as she stands.
When we’re eye level, she slides her fingers into my mouth.
I groan, sucking them clean. She tastes incredible.
Without breaking our gaze, she thumbs the smear of cum over her mouth back in between her lips.
“Now you can go, Cowboy.”
Fuck, that’s the last thing I want to do.
I haul her into my chest, wrapping her in a tight hug. Her body trembles against mine.
We stand in each other’s warmth as our breathing settles. And it’s not until goosebumps flood her skin that I let her go. “Need me to tuck you in?”
“Not this time.” She huffs a laugh, pushing up on her tiptoes and brushing her lips over my own. Fine fingers claim my jawline as she whispers, “I expect that written request first thing in the morning.”
I close my eyes.
“What?” she breathes.
“Nothing.” I smile around the word.
“It’s not nothing, Lawson.” Her voice sounds . . . worried.
Of course it does. This is out of her comfort zone.
I open my eyes to find her chewing her bottom lip before she says, “Just tell me. It was bad, wasn’t it?”
I shake my head. “Nope. We’re not doing that. I know exactly what I’m getting with you. After this weekend, I hope you do, too.”
She opens her mouth to respond, but I lift her jaw up with a finger, closing those pretty lips before dotting a kiss to them. “I’ll see you in the morning, Princess,” I whisper.
I dress and see myself out.
Hoping like damn hell I didn’t just ruin everything.
Iget to work an hour early, and the office is quiet.
The few women waiting outside were grateful for the early entry, and after making everyone tea and putting out snacks, I head upstairs.
Sleeves rolled up and tie already crooked, I get to work on finalizing the new plan before we meet with Serelle.
There’s just one catch—I don’t think we can tell her about the loss of our major sponsor. Not yet.
I think we should wait until the gala. And then, if we can’t replace them, we’ll let her know.
It’s a risk.
But if Serelle figures we’ll never recoup the loss, people will lose jobs. Those women downstairs will have nowhere to go.
Is it really a lie if it’s simply withholding information?
I’m in the middle of contemplating my own character flaws when floral and vanilla shrouds me from behind.
“Morning,” Carlie whispers into my ear as she leans over, lips brushing my ear. A to-go coffee cup plonks on my desk.
I spin around on my chair, looking up into her gorgeous brown eyes. This morning they look a little different. More . . . mischievous? Happier?
The smile stretching my face sends one blooming over hers. “Ready for this morning’s meeting, Princess?”
She sighs. “I really think we should tell Serelle about the sponsor. Withholding that part makes my skin crawl.”
I take a sip of the coffee. It’s good. It’s hot.
Swallowing, I study her face. “No, not yet.”
“What? Why not?” Her brows lower as she sips her own coffee.
“Well, if we replace the gap at the gala, it’s a nonissue.”
“But if we don’t?”
“There’s a risk that we all lose Serenity.”
“Lawson, that’s not—”
“I know. I know you’re going to say it’s misleading and it’s lying, but really, it’s just better management. This is what she pays us to do. Manage things. And risk is part of management.”
“I suppose.”
“We are the ones who keep this place funded and growing; that’s our job. And we will do it.”
“Fine. But I want it on record I was up for telling her about all of it. And what do you plan on telling her about the Christmas gala, then?”
“Well, we promote it that the gala is to extend opening hours and operations.”
“It is that, too, I guess.”
Worry is etched all over her face, she wrings her hands as her eyes tighten, but she nods. “Let’s do it. Between you and me and our secret weapon, pretty sure it will be impossible to fail.”
“Our secret weapon?” I raise my eyebrows.
“Ruby Robbins.” She gives me a little head tilt lined with sass before padding to her desk and dropping her bag down. “Right, Rawlins. Get back to work.”
I chuckle at her and spin my chair back to my workstation. “Yes ma’am.” And as automatic as breathing, I give her a two-finger salute. The prettiest damn smile a man’s ever seen blooms on her face as she holds my gaze for the moment before it slips, and she opens her laptop.
The gravity of the action lands a heartbeat after my fingers leave my forehead.
Yup . . . this man is done for.
The men in our family have a little tradition of saluting their captain. My father salutes Ma. Hudson, Addy. Reed, Rubes. And Mack—the ex-soldier he is, putting us all to shame—he salutes the hell out of his Gracie. Because a man without his captain is a ship lost at sea.
He may be sturdy in his own right, but she is his direction. His unwavering anchor.
I can’t pull my focus from the woman across the room as this sinks in. It steals the last thought I have, replacing it with a fresh, overwhelming intensity.
One I have no idea if she reciprocates or even could.
The stone that grows in my throat makes me choke on my coffee.
Carlie looks up. “You okay, Cowboy?”
“Yeah, Princess.”
She smiles, none the wiser to the hurricane of emotion in my head and heart, and goes back to her work without missing a beat.
Yep, totally fucked.
“Someone pour me a drink,” I groan, forehead hitting the wooden bar as Griff slaps my back. Dexter whistles for the waitstaff, waving them down as Miles walks in. The city crew is all here.
I was already three drinks in by the time the boys got off and made their way here from the high-rise they work in for their old man.
I guess being partners in one of New York’s most-prestigious law firms has its perks—Griff offers to take the tab, apparently since I’m in no state to make financial decisions.
“Fuck man, what the hell?” Miles chuckles as he slides onto a stool by Griff.
“Our boy’s fucked, Milo.” Dex plasters a shit-eating grin over his stupid face. “She’s gone and sunk her damn talons into his soft country-boy heart. Poor bastard never stood a chance.”
“I’m right here, Dexter. Right fucking here,” I grind out.
He pats my cheek like a little old lady on the subway would. I slap his hand away.
“Like you’re one to talk. You’re always chasing some skirt.” Griff scowls at his twin.
“I like to keep it casual and play the field, brother. Unlike you, you robot. When’s the last time you were within three feet of a woman?”
I lean forward and try to catch the waitress’s attention again. “Hello?” I wave a hand, almost toppling from the stool.
Griff’s grip closes around my biceps. “Woah, bro. This ain’t no rodeo.”
Every time we drink, they let rip with the country boy jabs. Hate to break it to them, but this man hasn’t been on a horse for over ten years. Honestly, compared to my brothers, I’m no country boy. Just a joke straight outta small-town Montana.
I don’t fit in here any better than I fit in back home.
Figures, since I literally work in a homeless shelter.
Fuck, this is depressing.
I sway on the stool, and strong arms prop me up. I turn back to find Miles. His kind eyes are lined with worry and a dash of amusement. Fuck off, buddy.
“Come on, my man. Time for bed.”
“No, I need to get this off my chest.” I struggle to stay on the stool.
But being manhandled by three guys makes my fight fruitless.
A heartbeat later, we’re standing on the sidewalk, waiting for an Uber.
Miles is strong-arming me so I stay standing on one side, Dex has the other in his rough grip.
Griff waves at the Uber driver as the car slows, and we climb in.
Sounds like a bad joke . . . Two lawyers, a fireman, and a businessman climb into a cab. I chuckle, and Miles shakes his head at me. “Bud, the hell. You’re going to be hurting in the morning.”
I turn my head, slow like, since every effort takes so much. Only to meet his deep browns, and all I can think of is Carlie and the way she’s going to rip my heart to pieces. I groan. “Already am, Milo. I already am.”