Graham
I s she the reason pretty boy ain’t so pretty anymore?” Will asks as if he doesn’t already know the answer to the question.
My attention shifts from staring at the girl two feet from me, curled against the door, lightly snoring, to the review mirror, meeting the dark eyes of Will. He and my assistant are probably the closest things I have to friends, though Tasha is in Georgia for the foreseeable future, taking care of a family issue. “He’s the reason. Not her. He’s a slimy piece of shit. He’s the reason musicians and artists have a bad rep for taking advantage of their fans.”
Will snorts as a dark brow lifts. “I doubt he’s the reason. Maybe just a perpetuator of the negative stereotype.”
A rage rumbles in my chest, my teeth clenching as I swallow the fury. I look over at Casey, flashes of shadows and lights racing over her face as we drive down the busy streets in the endless New York traffic toward Casey’s apartment building on the Upper West Side, specifically chosen because of its location to her dance school and Columbia University. Her dark lashes flutter against her cheeks, making her look so peaceful. And yet, all I can think about is how that bastard had his hands on her. What he intended to do with her. And the red haze threatens to take over my vision once more.
What would’ve happened if Lily hadn’t called Jagger or if he hadn’t brought me there? Would her friends have stopped her from making reckless decisions she would’ve regretted in the morning? They obviously don’t know the reputation that surrounds Erikson, or they wouldn’t have let him near their table. And Jagger obviously wasn’t paying attention, or he would have intercepted himself.
“I don’t give a fuck what he is. Did you leave him someplace he could be discovered soon?”
“He resting quietly in the alley. I’ll call with an anonymous tip soon. The drugs in his pockets should at least get him held for a day or two. But are you sure that’s what you want? Isn’t it bad publicity for the label?”
“Trust me, those assholes would probably have done it themselves if given the opportunity. They’ve combed his contract with a fine-tooth comb. I’ve done the same since arriving. It’s ironclad. But even if they weren’t okay with it, fuck them.”
“You’re growling.” My eyes refocus on Will’s, the red haze dimming. “Want my opinion?”
Pain erupts through my entire face as my jaw clenches with enough pressure to turn my teeth to dust. “Not particularly.” I grind out. He’ll tell me anyway. He doesn’t filter himself. It’s not in his nature.
“Too bad,” he chuckles as I knew he would, but before he can say whatever he’s thinking, a soft groan rumbles next to me.
“It’s hot.”
“We’re almost there, Ca—” All the words die on my tongue when I look over and see her tits on full display as she tries to fight her shirt over her head—of fucking course, she’s not wearing a bra. Small, round, perky as hell, yet barely a handful…
My mouth goes dry, and I take five full seconds to realize what’s happening. “Shit, Casey.” I close the foot between us and try to wrestle her top back over her chest.
“No. I’m hot,” she whines, those long limbs tangling with mine, making a simple task far more difficult than it should be.
Will coughs from his seat to hide a laugh, and my head snaps his way, my eyes narrowing into murderous slits. “If you value your sight, you will keep your eyes forward,” I growl when his laugh breaks free and turn back to the completely wasted blond, who apparently forgets eighty percent of her personality when she’s drunk. “Fuck, Sunflower.” I give up on her shirt for a moment, grab her flailing arms, and tug her into my lap. I’m eye to nipple with the pert temptations, and my damn dick thumps against my zipper, daring me to sneak a taste. With a groan and grinding teeth, I tug her shirt down over her bare chest.
“But it’s so hot,” she pouts.
Then she tries to squirm out of my hold, and my damn dick twitches against her ass, making my head swim because of the lack of blood flow to my brain. I hold her tighter, pressing my forehead to her shoulder. “Casey. Don’t. Fucking. Move.”
Sober Casey would’ve become stone still as she turned the color of cherries. Drunk Casey does the same, looking at me with wide eyes as she bites that succulent bottom lip. Then, in a very un-Casey-like move, she turns until she’s straddling me.
I thought Heaven would reward me for not killing Erikson. It was an act of mercy, after all. Or even for controlling myself with the woman I have fantasized about for years. I’ve been as appropriate as a red-blooded, heterosexual male can be when they’re in a confined space with half-naked, innocent, unsuspecting sex appeal. But it seems I’m being punished for my forbidden desires instead of honored for not acting on them.
The eighth circle of hell is having her pussy on my cock and all these clothes between us, those damn blue eyes glimmering with unsuppressed lust, and being able to do nothing about it.
Her soft hands cup each side of my face as she brings hers closer until her liquored breath fans my face. “Why are you mad?”
“I’m not mad.” I’m not, but even I wouldn’t buy that shit with how the words are hissed through my clenched teeth.
Her blond brows dip, eyes narrowing in disbelief as she brushes a thumb over my crinkled forehead and juts that bottom lip in a perfect pout.
The allure is too great, and I drag my thumb over that plump enticement, imagining sucking it into my mouth. Her lashes flutter, and her hips shift. I freeze as my raging arousal leaks. “For the love of God, please be still.” I sound like I swallowed gravel without chewing.
“,” she whispers, those eyes becoming hooded as she sucks my thumb into her mouth. Fuck . She leans forward, pressing her hands into my chest, and God help me, I’m not sure I can push her away.
My self-control is obliterated as those lush lips brush mine. Reaching up, I grip the back of her head, tugging it slightly causing her to gasp. When that delicious mouth opens, I sweep my tongue inside, tasting every inch. Hints of tequila and fruit explode as her softness molds to mine. Her nails bite into my skin through my dress shirt as she grips me tightly as if she’s trying to hold on for dear life. Her strong yet soft body molds to mine as I grip her hips, holding her tightly against my erection. She whimpers against my mouth and tries to rock her hips, but I can’t let her.
I will not fuck her this way. She will be fully aware when I finally sink inside her tight body, and I will be inside her soon.
She moans again when I nip her bottom lip, sucking it between my teeth.
Fuck, I’ve got to stop, or I will never stop.
Where I find the restraint, I don’t know, but I manage to pull myself away, instantly missing those lips on mine. “Jesus, Sunflower, you’re killing me,” I mutter.
Those blue eyes search mine, looking adorably amazed. “Oh, my God,” she whispers. “I think…”
My fingers reach between us, finding her face and brushing a few strands of hair off her cheek. “What do you think, Sunflower?”
“I think…” Her eyes grow, but it’s the sudden, ghastly shade that concerns me. “I think I’m going to be sick.” Her hand flies to the handle, opening the door somehow despite still moving. My arm bands around her waist, holding her tight to keep her from going headfirst onto the pavement, causing vomit to cover my car, her, and me.
“Stop the car,” I bark at Will.
“We’re here,” he says as he stops in front of her building, but I still don’t turn her loose out of fear she will kiss concrete.
Her body heaves in my arms. She retches again, splattering the sidewalk in copious amounts of liquid, but that’s all it is. As disgusting as it is to see, it’s obvious she didn’t eat today, which means she drank enough to supply a small liquor store on an empty stomach.
The urge to redden her ass is strong.
When she sits up and sees the mess on both of us and the car, in typical Casey fashion, she apologizes. I suppose no amount of alcohol can take that part of her personality away.
I brush her hair from her face, smiling as warmly as I can. “It’s fine, Case. Let’s get you inside.”
Will appears at the door with a red face and lips pressed tightly together. The fucker is clearly suppressing his laughter.
He helps Casey out of the car, holding her steady at his side until I pull myself out. I pull her to my side and glare at him. A smile breaks across his face. “Man, it speaks volumes that you kiss a girl, and she pukes everywhere.”
I scoop Casey into my arms and look over my shoulder. “Bring my gym bag and the hydration kit up, then you’re fired.”
*****
We stand in her bathroom, my fingers gripping her arms, holding her steady on her swaying feet as she stares at me with intoxicated lust. As her tongue swipes her lower lip, I breathe sharp determination, steeling myself. This will be the biggest test of self-control of my life. “We need to get you cleaned up, Sunflower.”
Satisfaction hums from her sweet mouth, and I squeeze my lids tightly, reach inside the glass shower, turn the handles, and set the temperature.
When I turn around she’s managed to remove all of her clothes.
I try. I swear to you, God, and everything that I try to keep my eyes on her face. On those fathomless eyes, lush lips, and innocent eyes. But fuck you, I’m only human.
With a rough hand rubbing over my jaw, my eyes trail down her elegant neck to her graceful shoulders, tracing the ink that decorates her beautiful skin. They slide over her delectable breasts, small and round with tight, rosy nipples begging to be sucked. My cock throbs and weeps, begging me to give him relief. I glance down at the inconvenience between my legs with a growl.
Look, fucker, you’re not getting in there, so cut that shit out. He laughs at me when I let my gaze wander over the intricate line work between her breasts that weave and twist its way down, stretching across her ribcage.
My nostrils flare as irrational anger consumes me as images of some asshole with their hands all over those beautiful temptations eat at my mind. I swallow the feral growl trying to escape and force my attention elsewhere… lower.
Tiny ripples over her abdomen make my mouth water, and I suddenly understand a woman’s fascination with running their hands and mouth over a man’s abs. I continue across her obliques and narrow hips, finding more ink that makes me homicidal. Over powerful thighs, defined calves, to her…
What did I ever do to be tortured like this?
She’s still wearing her shoes. Her double-tied, hi-top, dark blue Converse with sunflowers painted on them—something she’s done for as long as I’ve known her—taunt me because I’ll have to remove them. Meaning I will be at eye level with her pussy. Close enough to lick yet unable to touch. Eden and the Forbidden Fruit.
I drop to my heels, keeping my eyes firmly on those laces, unknotting them as quickly as possible. After the left one is gone, I move to the right. She teeters, stumbling forward, dropping her hands to my shoulders to get her balance.
Fuck. My. Life. I can smell how good she will taste.
“Oopsies,” she giggles, making me groan.
For the life of me, I don’t know how, but I get through it, strip out of my clothes, leave my boxer briefs in place, and push her into the shower.
And for the next ten minutes, it’s a battle.
I pour shower gel over her body and instruct her to wash, making sure she’s balanced against the wall. I turn around, needing distance from her and a chance to calm myself—to get the blood flowing in the opposite direction. My eyes squeeze shut as I rub my hands through my hair to my neck and try to knead the tension away. My cock pulses hard, aching in the worst way, so I grip it tight, thinking of anything and everything to get the swelling to dissipate.
A soft moan comes from the cluelessly sexy girl behind me, and my eyes snap open. The circles of hell grow hotter as they mingle with the sounds of water slapping against the glass and tile. My head falls forward as they get louder, and my nostrils flare when I glance over my shoulder.
God, what the actual fuck did I do to be tormented like this?
I spin on my heels, growling. My fingers grip her wrists, pulling them away from her pussy and tits, pinning them to her side. “Behave yourself.”
“But—”
“No buts. Be have .”
I manage to get her rinsed, ignoring her lust-filled eyes and pouty mouth, with a few more warnings about keeping still. “How the fuck do you go from out cold, to stripping, to puking everywhere, to trying to get yourself off?” I grumble as she moans about being so wet .
Seriously, what the fuck is this because it’s damn sure not sweet, shy, innocent Casey? Then again, I know Casey rarely drinks, and I’m suddenly very thankful for it.
I clench my teeth the entire time I towel her off, trying to control my thundering pulse, ignore my throbbing dick, and cool the inferno in my veins. I grab a dry towel, wrap it around her, then scoop her up to carry her to bed, not trusting her to walk without face-planting on the way—or actually go. The way my luck is going tonight, she’ll streak her way to the elevators, and I’ll be forced to remove the eyes of everyone who sees.
“I’m going to grab you some clothes,” I tell her, then point a finger. “Do not move.”
Her giggle is not reassuring.
I walk into her closet and sift through her nonexistent wardrobe—if it isn’t dance attire, she only owns mostly casual staple items that are all Casey, a couple of cocktail dresses, and a formal one. The closet is large enough to hold thousands of dollars worth of clothing, and she only uses a fraction of the space. It’s not what I expected from her after Krista tormented her for years, but I’m proud to see she has what she wants, not what her mother expects.
I finally find a pair of thin cotton shorts and a tank top, again with sunflowers on both, and I leave the closet, staring at the articles in my hand. When I look up, they tumble to the floor with my jaw.
Her eyes lock on mine as her back arches and a tiny whimper passes her lips. “I need to come.”
My hands steeple in front of my mouth, dragging slowly over my lips. My mind is a tumultuous storm warring against what I should do and what I want to do.
Do the right thing, asshole. Do the right…
“Please, , help me.”
Fuck. Me.
“Casey…” Casey, what? Stop touching yourself? Don’t ask me to help? Let me lick until the ache goes away?
Jesus Christ, , no!
Her blue eyes blink, drunk and hazy and full of desire, blink at me with so much begging. “Please, I can’t do it, and my bullet isn’t charged.”
Her bull…
Fuck, fuck…
Fuck it.
“Scoot up on the bed.” My voice is so strained that it feels as if my vocal cords will rip, and every muscle in my body is taut with stress. I feel like a live wire ready to ignite as I watch her move her naked body slowly. “Bend your knees and spread your legs.” She wastes no time doing what I say. Her eagerness to please makes my balls tighten painfully. I swallow and try to control my breathing. My heart hammers against my sternum like a war drum. “Slip a finger inside.”
She shakes her head with a whimper. “Th-that doesn’t work for me.”
“Trust me,” I croak, wondering what she’s tried in the past to find relief. Who does she think of when she touches herself?
Call it ego and arrogance all you want, but my money is on me.
My mouth waters as I watch her finger glide through her glistening pink, sinking inside her tight core. Toes curling, they dig into the dark rug beneath my feet as I steady myself, wishing desperately it was me touching her. “Curl them forward, search until you find—” I’m cut off by a sharp, surprised gasp. “That’s it, baby. Stroke right there with firm pressure. Find what feels good to you. Pretend it’s my fingers stroking that sweet pussy. Use your other hand and pinch your nipples.”
I’m almost swaying on my feet, lightheaded because I swear the only blood in my body is in my dick. Unable to stand it anymore, I slip my hand inside my wet underwear, gripping the throbbing steel and squeezing it tightly. A groan tumbles from my chest as I twist my palm over the crown, dragging the pre-cum down in hard, frantic strokes.
“Fuck, Casey, if you were sober, I’d be so deep in that pretty cunt, you’d taste my cock.” I don’t know if she understands me, but my name tumbles from her lips. Her hips buck and I’m about to explode as I watch her ride her fingers.
Soft moans spill from those sweet lips. Beads of sweat trickle down her temples. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she chases her release. Her lids shut, eyes squeezing tight, as desperation distorts her face.
“Open your eyes, Sunflower.” Those shimmering sapphires pop open. Filled with so much need I lose my breath. Desire hums like an electrical current between us, tangible, audible… omnipotent. “Pinch your clit, baby,” I rasp through panted strokes. “Roll it between your fingers and imagine it’s my teeth.” Her mouth opens. Her chest heaves, then stops moving as her entire body goes rigid. “That’s it, baby. Come for me.”
My stomach and balls tighten as I watch her contract around her fingers. I jerk my dick once, twice, then lean forward and come so hard my knees buckle. I grab the post of her bed as my cum covers my hand and stomach. Our eyes stay locked for several minutes as we catch our breath.
The devil can save me a seat next to him because I’m definitely going to hell for this, but it sure as shit won’t be with blue balls.