by Nina Levine
I groaned loudly and moved my hips up and down, the pressure instantly beginning to build. My hands gripped the bath like a lifeline as my legs began to shake, my entire body quaking and shuddering as my orgasm hit like a fucking freight train.
He was quick to catch me, getting to his feet and wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling my body up, so my back was pressed to his chest, the both of us breathing heavy. “Feeling good?” he growled in my ear.
“More.”
“Greedy.”
“Please.”
When he slipped his cock between my legs, I jerked, and the head of it brushed just lightly against my clit. The first time it could have been accidental, but then as it continued over and over again, driving me fucking crazy, I knew it was him torturing me.
I lifted my hips, grinding back against him as he swiped through, then dipped just inside me. It wasn’t enough to ease any of the tension I was feeling, so I growled in agitation.
“Good girl,” he murmured, pressing against me, one hand wrapped around my throat, holding me back against him, his breath tickling my ear.
“Please,” I replied instantly, biting my lip to keep from moaning as he rewarded me instantly by sinking all the way inside me. I sucked in a sharp gasp, the fullness stealing my breath and making my back arch against him. It didn’t last long though, as he settled there, but instead of pulling out again, he moved his hips, pressing his cock in different directions, stretching me. “Dammit,” I cursed softly.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling out and thrusting back in, harder this time. Once the momentum started, I knew it was going to be hard for him to stop. His teeth attacked my neck, one small bite after another, then he trailed them down to my shoulder.
I started to press back as he pushed forward, aching to have him deeper, but he chuckled in my ear and began to slow down.
“Don’t come yet,” he murmured, dipping his mouth to my ear and slowing his thrusts.
There was that control. My body was aching, twitching, dying for release. But he was going to fucking torture it out of me.
His strokes became longer. Deeper. Harder.
Torturing me.
Driving me crazy.
Slowing down that building orgasm that I wanted so bad.
I chewed my lip but couldn’t stop the escape of the low moan that slipped from my lips. “Huntsman, please,” I groaned, trying to hold my body in place as the power of his thrusts escalated again, building harder and driving me forward, but there was nowhere to go.
A deep growl rumbled in his chest and suddenly he was fucking gone, my body cold, his cock slipping from inside me. “Don’t you dare come,” he demanded, his hand reaching around between my legs, his thumb brushing over my sensitive clit.
My body jumped, and I dug my nails into his arm, my orgasm almost slapping me in the face before he withdrew again.
“Huntsman,” I screamed, wriggling and fighting, my breathing erratic. I tried to press back against him and force him deeper. “Please!”
“Please what?”
“Please let me come,” I groaned, fighting the burn that I knew I was never going to be able to stop in a few seconds.
“Come now,” he growled as his hand dipped between my legs and his thumb rubbed at my swollen clit just one more time.
“Shit!” I cried out as the world around me shattered into pieces. I felt like I was falling, but there was no use because I had nothing to grab hold of. My body exploded, and I screamed out his name as the waves of my orgasm rolled over and over. It was so intense, so fucking strong that I wondered whether they would ever stop.
“Fuck!” he cursed. “You’re squeezing the life out of me.” He pulled back suddenly, my pussy still twitching and clenching as he folded me forward and grabbed hold of my hips. He slammed back inside me from behind, setting off a whole new sensation, an entirely new feeling of pleasure washing over me.
The new angle had me tossing my head back, his cock now pressing upward as he altered his stance. His hands grabbed my ass in fistfuls, pulling my cheeks apart so he could drive deeper and deeper.
I screamed, tossing my head back and calling his name when I exploded again, this time, dragging him with me off the side of the cliff as my pussy spasmed tightly around his cock. “Good girl,” he groaned with each jerky thrust as he emptied himself. His body settling over mine, his hips still moving as he moved my hair to the side and began pressing gentle kisses down my spine.
“Goddammit,” I mumbled breathlessly, turning my head to the side as he nuzzled his face into my neck. His body pressed against mine, his brow pulled together, and his arms shaking as he tried to hold himself up like he hadn’t just come so hard. It really was perfect. I didn’t want to move. I could have sat there forever, the both of us simply lost in an orgasmic state like nothing else in life mattered.
“You feel like having an actual shower now?” he muttered, his hands still tracing the curves of my hips as I stood and leaned back into him.
Our bodies were sticky and sweaty, but it seemed like neither of us really gave a shit.
“Yes,” I muttered in pure bliss.
He pressed a kiss to my neck and pulled back. “Shower.”
“What abo—”
“Zoey.”
I wanted to argue.
Just because.
And I think it would always be that way with him. He liked to be in control, and I liked to push the boundaries.
But maybe that was why we worked.
Or why we could work.
11
Zoey
Three Weeks Later
“So, if they like it, they’ll just write a check on the spot?”
Drake snorted, leaning back against the wall and sipping on his beer. “Who the hell still writes checks?” he responded with a light laugh. “These assholes? They’ll have a banker on standby. The second they know what they want, they’ll sign the contract, transfer the deposit. Deal done.”
It was such a foreign world to me. Still making my jaw drop even now, despite the few years I’d been immersed in it during my teenage years.
I’d mixed with people like this.
I’d seen what their money could buy.
Though you tend to experience it differently when you aren’t the one getting paid but are, in fact, the product being sold.
“How many apartments do you think Reese will sell tonight?” I questioned, watching the club’s real estate agent and my new girl-crush work the room like she owned it. She was exactly that. A queen in a real estate kingdom ruled by men.
Drake watched her, his eyes on her hips as she moved from one potential buyer to another. “Half.”
There were twenty apartments in this building. Ranging from studio to two-bedrooms and sitting at a starting price of four hundred thousand. They were high end—at least they would be when they were finished. This was only the launch party for the building, letting everyone know what we had to offer and just how beautiful the outcome was going to be when they were finished.
“I think she’ll sell seventeen,” I countered, my grin widening as I watched Reese’s assistant hand over her iPad, knowing that particular device was only used for signing contracts and checking funds transfers. “How long have we been in this room? ‘Bout seven minutes? And already one sale?”
Drake didn’t answer, simply hiding his smirk with the neck of the bottle by taking another drink of his beer. That was all I needed. We both knew how good Reese was. Though I was wondering if Drake was eager to get to know her a little better.
We followed Reese through into the second apartment, this was larger, the outlay a little different. Drake and I hid in the corner of the room, like strategically placed décor, quietly watching people file through the staged apartment.
My stomach twisted as my eyes followed people around the apartment, eyeing the finishes, tugging at the drapes, and examining the placement of every single freaking feature.
Design decisions that I had
made.
Decisions that I had to believe people would like because if I screwed up the layout, staging, and feel of these apartments, there was no way in hell they were asking me to come back.
“Is this permanent?” My ears perked up, and I searched the room, finding a young woman with her wine glass in the air. “Does the kitchen have to be this shape?”
The kitchen was shaped like a U. On one side, there was a large counter with bar stools on the opposite side, and beyond that was the living room.
“All the kitchens and spaces like this in these apartments come as they are—”
“So, it can’t be changed?”
“It can be,” I answered loudly as I threw myself forward, ducking and diving through the crowd to get to the offending kitchen counter where Reese and the woman were speaking. Drake stayed behind, but I could feel his heavy gaze settled on my back, curious and cautionary, just watching.
Waiting.
The man was powerful—dangerous even. He was in charge here, and this company did not get the reputation it had by fucking around. If I screwed this up, they would find someone else. Someone with more experience. Someone who wasn’t like me—constantly flying by the seat of my pants and calling it creativity.
All eyes in the room followed me as I squeezed into the kitchen with my heart caught in my throat. I took the plan that was on the counter, and I scribbled all over it while I rambled about the things in the apartment that were interchangeable.
And suddenly, people didn’t just see a cute apartment. They saw a place they could customize, that they could fall in love with.
“You are freaking wonder woman,” Reese exclaimed as we finished up with the apartment showing and joined the rest of the party. Though the main event had ended, people still mingled and sipped drinks. Proof things were good. “I need to check my books, but I’m pretty sure you may have just sold us out.”
I couldn’t help but grin as I pulled my phone from my pocket and found a quiet corner of the party, excited to tell Blair about our success.
Her phone rang.
And rang.
And on the third time when she didn’t pick up, my heart began to race.
My fingers shook as I dialed Huntsman, my foot tapping nervously.
“How’d it go?”
“Blair isn’t answering her phone. Can you go check her room?”
He didn’t answer, but his heavy footsteps on the wooden clubhouse floor were everything I needed to hear.
Bang Bang Bang.
“Blair!” The door of her room creaking open almost stopped my heart because the second she didn’t answer, I knew something was wrong. “She’s not here.”
“Oh, God.”
“It’s fine. I had the boys put some tracking software in her phone,” he explained before I heard him yell at the boys to get on their bikes. “Come home. Wait for us here, I’ll find her.”
“What if—”
“Don’t,” he ordered sternly.
That was all I needed to hear.
He’d find her.
12
Huntsman
The door swung back so hard, the loud bang sounded like a gunshot, sending the raging house into silence for a brief second while everyone contemplated their life choices.
It maybe took all of 3.7 seconds before the roar of the crowd came to life again.
But the asshole kids out there weren’t my worry.
It was the two in here that had just leaped out of bed half clothed that was of my concern. Rylan and Rip stepped into the room behind me, Ripley reaching for the light switch that instantly illuminated the hot fucking mess.
My gaze was drawn to Blair first. My eyes narrowed on the sheet she had pulled from the bed and was holding tightly to her body. “Put your fucking clothes on. We’re leaving.”
Her eyes grew wide, but her lips pursed tightly, and I just fucking knew she was not about to make this easy. “You can’t do this,” she snapped, her hands twisting in the sheer material. Her eyes brimming with tears and defiance. “What I do is none of your damn business.”
“She’s right, old man.”
Gritting my teeth, I turned my attention to the little fucker sporting some tighty whiteys and a tiny fucking boner.
He reached for his jeans, slipping his legs through before pulling them up. “Blair’s a big girl. She can make her own decisions. You need to calm the fuck down.”
Ripley’s choking laughter told me I hadn’t imagined things. This little scum bucket was really trying to tell me to calm the fuck down.
“Come here, boy,” I ordered, pointing at the floor in front of me.
“Huntsman, plea—”
My attention snapped back to Blair, my dark glare instantly silencing her as she shook her head back and forth, desperately begging me not to embarrass her. “Put. Your. Fucking. Clothes. On.” In a sudden frenzy, she scrambled for her things, and for a second, I caught a glimpse of her underwear still on her fucking body, and I sucked in a sharp breath.
Thank fuck for that.
Now I at least didn’t have to kill the little bastard stumbling toward me.
He pulled up sharp just a few feet away, flicking his head back so the long hair he had flew back from his face for a brief second before falling into his eyes again. “Look, Pops,” he started, his boyish grin flashing me a set of perfectly white teeth that I had to control the urge to break. “I know you’re trying to look after her. Blair’s cool. She’s hot. She’s got this attitude and sass that I fucking love, ya know?”
“Ya know?” Ripley echoed mockingly, folding his arms and propping his shoulder against the wall. “Let’s listen to what else the kid has to say, Pops.”
“Right?” the kid agreed, bobbing his head.
“You have three seconds to get your ass out of this bedroom before I…” I paused to think. “What do the kids call it these days?” I questioned, stepping into the tiny shithead’s face. “Pop a cap in your ass?”
He swallowed hard, his non-existent Adam’s apple bobbing, making me wonder whether he had even gone through fucking puberty before he rushed from the room, with not even a goodbye to the young girl he’d been about to fuck.
“What a charmer,” Rylan snorted, rolling his eyes.
He and Ripley walked out first, Blair stomping behind them, trying to cover her face so the other kids wouldn’t see her being escorted out.
She refused to ride with me back to the clubhouse, opting to go with Ripley instead.
We’d developed a reasonably good relationship over the past couple of weeks they’d been at the clubhouse, but I knew this was where things would be decided.
“A party? Are you fucking kidding me?” Zoey hissed, standing at the entrance to the hall so Blair couldn’t escape to her room.
“Cosied up with a boy,” I added, pulling up a bar stool.
“You had no right,” Blair suddenly spat, tears streaking her cheeks. “You are not my goddamn father!”
“Blair!”
I held up my hand, halting Zoey before she could let loose on her daughter. Instead, I stepped forward, facing her head-on. “No, I’m not your father. But you know what? Whether you like it or not, I give a fucking damn about you.” More tears streaked down her face, and I took a step closer. “And whether we share DNA or not, I’m not going to sit by and let some asshole teen boy disrespect you. And neither are any of the fucking men in this room.”
My brothers who were around all nodded, and I couldn’t help but notice the way Zoey pressed her hand to her heart.
“It’s just been you and your mom for a long time, but you are both a part of this family now, and while it was not meant to be a permanent solution to have you stay here, I’d like it to be that way.” I dropped it—laid everything out on the fucking line.
I didn’t even look at Zoey because I knew it wasn’t up to her.
Zoey’s priority was Blair, and whether we had been sharing a fucking bed for two weeks or not, if Blair wanted o
ut, things were over.
“You want us to stay?” she seemed confused, her eyes moving around the room as if she was checking with each member—these guys who had been her protectors and turned into family.
“Yes, if you haven’t noticed, I kinda fucking like your mom.”
“I called it,” Rip shouted, throwing his fist in the air.
“So, what do you think, kid?” I asked again.
The pause in the room felt like a weight pressing down on my fucking chest.
“That guy was kind of an asshole anyway.”
If you enjoyed this book, you might also like:
Harmony (The Club Girl Diaries Book 1)
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About the Author
Addison Jane is a born and bred kiwi girl with a passion for romance and writing.
When she gets the chance, she enjoys the little things in life such as reading, dancing, music, and Facebook, but her world really revolves around the little girl who calls her Mum. It’s an awkward balance between alpha males and Disney princesses, but it works.
Growing up on a small farm next to the beach will always make her a country girl at heart. But since moving away to a small town close to the city, she’s discovered a dangerous love for shopping.
Writing stories has been something that’s come naturally since she was young, and with the massive support of her friends and family, she finally decided to step out of her comfort zone and share them with the world.
She enjoys bringing her books to life with strong female leads, sexy, passionate men, and a rollercoaster of twists and turns that lead to the happily ever after that her readers desire.