Chapter 23 #2
“That wasn’t a date.” I smiled. “Marci is my VP of operations on the East Coast. So, she’s not just an employee, she’s an extremely important employee, as she’s our eyes and ears on this entire side of the country and someone who’s about to get even more responsibility because we’re giving her additional restaurants—something I shouldn’t even mention to you, considering who you represent.
” My gaze deepened. “I don’t fuck my employees, Sophie.
What you saw was nothing more than a business dinner. ”
She stopped blinking. The only part of her that moved was her throat when she swallowed. Her face was so masked in concentration that I couldn’t tell what she was thinking or feeling.
“So, now that you know the truth, do you have anything you want to say to me?” I pushed.
Her cheeks puffed out when she exhaled. “My lips have never been anywhere near Jones. He’s family. Just like Callum, Talon, Leo, and Troy—guys I wouldn’t ever cross the line with or even want to.”
I squeezed my arms against my chest. “That’s all you’re going to say?”
She slowly nodded.
“You’re not going to apologize for—”
Before I could finish the rest of my sentence, she started running. But she didn’t pass me, going in my direction; she did the opposite, as if she were returning home.
Un-fucking-believable. I could never win with her.
Rather than follow her, I went back to my hotel, where I grabbed a cold bottle of water from the front desk before I took the elevator to my room.
I had gotten in at least two miles, so my body should feel satisfied.
And the sight of the bed should somewhat entice me, considering I had plenty of time to shower and get in a small nap before I had to meet Hayden.
That was what I needed anyway. It would be another long day of heat and sun, and I was going on no sleep.
But as I stared at the white bedding, at the indent of where my body had been, my fucking mind was racing.
My heart was pounding.
Sophie hadn’t bothered to reach out last night, and this morning had been even more confusing. Was it that difficult for her to admit when she was wrong?
Or was something else happening that I wasn’t privy to?
Would I ever get these answers?
Fuck me.
I carried the water into the en suite and set it on the counter, between the double sinks, and turned the shower on the hottest setting.
As the room slowly began to fill with steam, I slipped out of my sneakers and socks and let my shorts fall to the tiles.
When I caught my reflection in the mirror, I was wearing only my boxer briefs.
And through the thin black material was a hard-on that had been nagging at me since I had seen her running toward me.
A hard-on that didn’t soften despite how badly she tested me, how she fucking challenged my patience in every possible way.
My dick was solely focused on her body—the way the spandex had hugged her curves, how it dipped into her pussy, how it had shown her beautiful nipples.
It didn’t hear a single word that had come out of her mouth.
Nor did she need to be in my present line of vision for my cock to thicken and grow even longer.
The thought of her alone did that. The same way it caused a bead of pre-cum to bubble at my tip.
Goddamn it, I didn’t know what she had done to me, but I wanted her.
Hell, I needed her.
Submissive, tied, and fucking screaming.
My eyes closed, and in the blackness behind my lids, I envisioned her on the tantra chair in my favorite room at Lush.
Her hands bound by my belt. Her legs spread.
A narrow, silky fabric covering just the center of her cunt.
And even though I knew every inch by heart, I wanted the panties gone.
I wanted the teasing to stop. I wanted to see that fucking gorgeous pussy.
I wanted to touch it.
Smell it.
Taste it.
I wanted to lick it until she shouted my name at the top of her lungs.
My hand flattened against the countertop, the tips of my fingers nearing the edge of the sink.
There was a natural sway to my body, where I shifted forward and back, as though her lips were around my crown and I was plunging down her throat.
Or maybe I was positioned between those beautiful thighs, her panties ripped from her body and no longer separating us, my tip sinking in.
First feeling her wetness, quickly followed by her warmth.
Fuck yes.
That was exactly what I wanted—to bury myself in her.
My other hand slid down the waist of my boxer briefs, and I moaned as I fisted the center of my shaft. I used the counter for balance and to hold my weight, and my head dropped as I took my initial stroke.
“Hell yeah.”
It wasn’t her. But it was enough.
Lube, lotion, soap bubbles—anything that slicked my skin would make this feel even better.
But I didn’t want the easy, sure-thing route.
I wanted rough.
I wanted to hunt my orgasm and chase it.
I wanted the exertion, the burn of skin on skin.
A feeling that reminded me of her behavior—a sharp, unforgiving bite that had gnawed at me too many times.
Each swivel of my hand, starting from the base and twisting to my peak, brought back memories of the anger in her expression. The fight that had come from her lips. The realization that hadn’t once weakened in her eyes.
“Fuck!” I roared.
When I picked up speed, my hips rocked faster, and with each wave of movement, she became even clearer.
The arch of her hip, where it dipped to her lower back, a seamless transition to her heart-shaped ass.
The softness of her skin across the center of her navel.
Shit, I could even smell the lime-and-orange scent as it wafted from her skin.
My legs spread from the momentum, causing my boxer briefs to descend to my ankles.
With that freedom came more power. A stronger grip. A thrust that began with a raging inhale and a torturous exhale.
As I quieted, I could hear her sounds. A combination of words she had said the last time I was inside her. And when they were uttered in her sultry, desperate, needy voice, I bucked with control.
The same way I did now.
“Fuck me harder.”
So, I gave her what she wanted.
Within a few more twists, the ache was spreading through my balls, the fire moving through my dick, the release igniting across my body.
“Sophie!”
She was rubbing her clit for me, just the way I liked her to, with her legs apart and her thumb on that spot that I fucking loved to lick. But it was her eyes that sent me over the edge. A deep, penetrating stare that made the ribbons of cum shoot out from the end of me.
“Fuck!”
As each crest took hold of me, I drove my palm toward my crown, the friction of my piercing only adding to the intensity, and I pumped out the rest of my orgasm.
“Fuck yes,” I breathed the second I was empty.
My eyes flicked open, meeting the small milky pools of cum on the countertop. But in my mind, those puddles had landed on her stomach, her fingers dragging through each one as though she were connecting the dots before she brought them up to her mouth.
And while her eyes locked with mine, she sucked the thickness off her fingers.
When I connected with my reflection again, what I should have seen was a satiated look on my face, but what I saw instead was one that promised I could go at least three more rounds, and even that wouldn’t be enough.
It was going to be a long fucking day.
Just as I was opening the door of my suite to meet my driver downstairs, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I stayed in the entryway while I took out my cell, Weston Group appearing on the screen.
“Good morning—”
“We have a fucking problem,” Hart said, cutting me off.
“A real fucking problem,” Beck added.
Beck was at the office? And not at practice?
This isn’t good. Shit.
“Have you seen the article I just sent you?” Eden hadn’t even given me a chance to respond to my brothers.
“No. I just got out of the shower after a run, and”—I didn’t need to elaborate on what I’d been doing since that shower—“I haven’t had a chance to get caught up with my notifications. I was about to get in the car and—”
“The Gordons are opening a Horned.” Walker’s voice was so deep that it cut right through me.
I backed up into the room and released the door, letting it close. “They’re doing … what?”
“Colson, we have a real mess on our hands,” Hart said.