Kicking off my shoes and pants and underwear, I slowly walk toward her, unbuttoning my shirt, stripping it off before I stop directly in front of her. My dick is hard and waving at her ass in greeting, and I tell it to settle down.
I have other business to attend to.
Slowly I smooth my hand across one ass cheek, then the other. She is so soft. So plump. I do it again, alternating between each cheek, loving how she arches into my hand, quiet moans falling from her lips.
“You are one sexy woman,” I tell her, and she glances at me from over her shoulder.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, her gaze dropping to my dick. “I can’t believe we’re going to do this again. Already.”
“Who said anything about doing it again?” I say, my eyebrows up, my fingers sneaking into her ass crack. She jumps when I touch her there and I smooth a hand over her butt once more. “Spread your legs, baby.”
She does as I ask, giving me a view like no other.
“Lean forward and grab the back of the chair.” How handy that it’s so close.
Susanna leans forward, her tits swaying, her hands clutching the top of the leather chair. She swings her hips, her butt waving, her glistening pussy on perfect display, and I touch her there, coating my fingers with her creamy wetness, slipping two deep inside her. Her inner walls clutch me tight, like she doesn’t want to let me go, and I pull out, slowly tracing the rim of her entrance.
She practically bends herself in half, resting most of her upper body on the chair in front of her, body wide open. I slide my finger from her pussy to her ass, delicately touching her ridged skin. She jumps a little but I continue my exploration, doing lazy circles, my gaze dropping to her extra wet pussy.
“You like this,” I say.
“It feels so good,” she practically purrs as she thrusts her butt closer. “I’ve—never done something like this before.”
Pride surges in me that I’m showing her something new. “So I’m exploring virgin territory.”
“Yes,” she murmurs, jumping a little when I tease her back entry. I’m trying to get inside, but she’s extra tight. “You’re corrupting me.”
“With pleasure,” I say, making her laugh.
Does she know I mean those two words with everything I’ve got? She’s so responsive to my touch, my words. And she’s so open. She doesn’t flinch away from any of my suggestions, and she enjoys everything we do together. The multiple orgasms more than prove that.
Hell, we’ve barely been in my room thirty minutes and I’ve already made her come twice.
Deciding to give it another try, I fall to my knees and grip both butt cheeks in my hands, spreading her apart even more before my mouth lands on her pussy. Another jolt of shock runs through her at first touch, but soon she’s moaning and practically grinding her pussy on my face as I continue to lick and suck. My fingers stills play with her ass, and I slip my index finger inside, getting just the tip of my nail in, and a surprised “oh” sounds from her.
“Too much?” I ask after pulling away from her. My lips are soaked and I lick them, savoring her salty taste.
“No,” she says with a shake of her head. “Just—be gentle.”
“I plan on it,” I tell her before I dive back in. I tease her swollen clit with my tongue, my finger sinking deeper and deeper, her legs growing shaky, her pussy pulsing, like she’s about to come. My knees are digging into the floor, she’s barely keeping herself upright, and I know we gotta shift positions.
I pull away from her and lay flat on the floor. “Let go of the chair,” I tell her, and she glances down, frowning at me. “Sit on my face, Sus.”
“Oh God,” she moans as she practically collapses on top of me, her legs straddling my head, her pussy hanging right above my mouth.
“Get into a sixty-nine position,” I tell her next, and she shifts. Moves. Wraps those lush lips tight around my cock as I continue to sample her pussy, and holy shit, we’re both coming within minutes. What’s happening between us, what we’re sharing, I can’t even describe it. It’s a complete fuck fest—I’ve never gone at it with a woman like this before, and I don’t ever want it to stop.
Sweaty and naked and covered in come, we end up wrapped around each other, still on the floor, her head nestled in that spot between my neck and shoulder, my fingers playing with her nipples as if I can’t stop touching her.
And I can’t.
“This is too much,” she finally says, her voice low, her entire body limp as she presses it against mine.
“You tired?”
“Exhausted.”
“We should get into bed,” I suggest, and she shakes her head, nuzzling her nose against my neck.
“Not yet. I like how you feel wrapped around me,” she whispers.
I like how she feels wrapped around me too.
Probably too much.
I wake up to the insistent sound of my cell phone both ringing and vibrating at the same time, the most annoying sound in all the land. It stops only to start up again, and I have no idea how long this has been going on.
Or why the person calling won’t leave me a bloody voicemail.
Reaching out, I slap my hand on top of the bedside table, trying my best to find the phone without waking Cannon. Who so happens to be sleeping behind me, the heavy weight of his cock nudged against my butt, one thick arm wrapped around my waist and holding me tight. The man is a giant teddy bear who I’m sure would let me snuggle up next to him all night if I wanted.
That I had the presence of mind in the middle of the night to put my phone on the charger I brought with me is impressive, considering how—preoccupied I was last evening. I unplug the phone and check the screen.
The name Mother is right there, as bold as can be.
Hurriedly slipping out of bed, I race toward the bathroom, shutting the door and answering, “Hello,” in the most intelligible whisper I can manage.
“My God, how long does it take you to answer a phone these days, hmm? I thought you were dead!”
Mother can be quite dramatic, if you didn’t sense that already.
“I’m fine. You should’ve just left a voicemail,” I tell her groggily. I shuffle over to the counter, my gaze snagging on my reflection in the mirror and I almost recoil in fear.
I look…hideous. I’m naked, and I can see all my jiggly bits, every single flaw I have is on blatant display and has been since last night. My hair is curling literally everywhere, like I stuck my finger in a socket and got the greatest shock of my life. Mascara is smudged beneath my eyes, and my cheeks are puffy. I swear there are red teeth marks on my breasts and I have razor burn along the left side of my jaw.
“It’s so late, Susanna. Past eleven and you’re still in bed?” She sounds cross, but that’s nothing new. “I thought you’d be at work.”
“I work every other Monday. You know this.” She does know this. She just wants to harass me for some reason.
“I want you to come to dinner,” she says, changing the subject.
“All right. When?” I rub my forehead, then smooth my hair down as best I can, though I’m sure it’s no help. I need a shower. And a blow out. A facial, a deep cleanse, a massage. An all-day visit to a spa sounds like the most reasonable plan.
“Tonight.”
I pause, waiting for her to say something else, but she remains quiet. “Why such late notice?”
“We need to talk. Oh, and you should bring your friend with you.”
I’m so confused by her request. “My friend? Do you mean Evie?” My mother hates Evie with the passion of a thousand burning suns.
“No, of course not,” she spits out, her voice laced with venom. I’m afraid her hatred for Evie will never die. “Your other friend. We expect you at the house at six o’clock,” she chirps before she ends the call.
I stare at my phone, wondering what in the world she’s talking about. My other friend? She can’t be referring to Cannon, can she? How would she even know he exists, beyond my father telling her he me
t a nice American football player on Saturday night? Dad doesn’t even know I ended up sending the night with Cannon…
Huh.
The thought hits me after I’ve relieved myself and I’m washing my hands. Mom does read the papers every single morning, including the overly gossipy ones that love to discuss the various socialites and young nobility out and about on the town.
Their words, not mine.
Panic filling me, I send Evie a quick text.
Have you read the papers this morning?
She tends to read them online while my mother enjoys them the old-fashioned way—delivered to her doorstep first thing every morning.
Evie’s response is almost immediate.
I have. You harlot.
She adds a winky face emoji like that’s supposed to make me feel better.
Why are you calling me a harlot? What did you see?
My phone rings, startling me, and I answer Evie’s call.
“You don’t know what’s happened?” she asks incredulously.
Dread fills me, nearly sending me toppling over. “Is it bad?”
“No, you look amazing. So happy with your sparkling eyes and your hand resting on his chest.” She pauses for dramatic effect, as she’s wont to do. “The footballer’s chest, which is as broad as a wall, I swear.”
“Where did you find this photo?” I ask weakly, gripping the edge of the bathroom counter. I’m suddenly dizzy.
Like I might faint.
“In the Daily News. It’s a short piece, something about Lady Susanna Sumner catching the attention of a famous 49er visiting from the States, and what an adorable couple you two make.” Evie sounds positively thrilled. “You two are an adorable couple. He looks at you like he wants to eat you up!”
He constantly wants to eat me up. I am so sore between my legs, I think I need a sex break. Oh, and the spa visit. “My mother just called.”
Evie’s good mood is deflated, just like that. “What does the Dragon Lady have to say now?” She hates my mother just as much as my mother hates her.
“She demanded that I come to dinner at the house tonight, and requested that I bring my friend.”
“You know she’s talking about Cannon. She must’ve seen the article too.”
The dread rises, threatening to choke me. “If she saw the article, she must be…”
“Livid?” Evie suggests.
“No, no, not livid. More like…”
“Disappointed?”
“Yes, that’s it.” I don’t want Cannon to meet my mother. I love her. I really do, but she’s almost too…overbearing. To the point that she could scare Cannon away.
And I sort of want to keep him around as much as I can. Silly, right? What’s happening between us could never work, yet I want to give it a try anyway.
I’m insane.
“Don’t let her disappointment get in the way of your life. You do what you want, what makes you happy. She’s always trying to boss you around, and it’s ridiculous, Susanna! You’re a grown-ass woman. Be a boss bitch and tell her to mind her own business,” Evie says.
“Have you been reading BuzzFeed articles again?” Whenever she says grown ass woman and boss bitch, I figure she’s been reading up on the internet.
“They are my favorite articles to read when I’m feeling down! We all need a pick-me-up, and today, I am your pick-me-up. Cancel the dinner plans. Do your own thing. Enjoy your time with that delicious man before he hops onto a plane and flies back to California, never to be seen again. You need to savor him, my friend.”
We end the call and I immediately look up the article online. Not much is said, and the photo looks like it was snapped as we left the restaurant last night. I am beaming up at him and he is looking down at me like he definitely wants to eat me up.
Yet Evie’s words stay with me after our call is finished. Soon Cannon will be hopping on a plane and flying back to California, leaving me all alone for days. Weeks. Months.
Forever.
I can hardly bear the thought.
Feeling depressed, I open the bathroom door to find Cannon sitting up in bed, looking bloody magnificent with the sheets pooled around his waist, his bare chest on blatant display. He’s scratching the back of his head, his golden-brown hair messy, his biceps bulging like always, his skin dark against the white bedding.
He’s like my every secret fantasy come to life. He’s just so…unbelievably beautiful. And kind. And sexy. And giving. And thoughtful. And amazing.
Oh, I’ve got it sooooo bad.
“What’s going on?” he asks, his voice low and raspy, making me shiver. His hand drops from his head while I continue to stand in the doorway. “Sus? You all right?”
I think of my mother’s demand, how she wants us to come to dinner tonight, and I know she’ll ruin everything. I think of the photo in the newspaper, and wonder what other papers and online sources might have said about us.
“When do you fly back home?” I ask.
He frowns. “Tomorrow afternoon.”
My heart sinks. One more day. That’s all I have left. Do I really want to waste these last hours with Cannon by going to dinner at my parents’ estate and watching my mother interrogate him until he flees the house running and screaming like a maniac?
I think not.
“We have to make the most of today,” I tell him as I start to approach the bed.
His gaze falls, landing on my chest, and I know he’s staring at my breasts. “I’d rather stay in.”
“Really?” I mock pout as I join him on the bed, scooting closer so I can climb into his lap, straddling him. The sheet is gathered between us as a sort of barrier, but I can still feel his erection beneath the fabric. “Don’t you want to go out and see the sights?”
He grabs my breasts in both hands and presses them together. “This is all the sight I need to see.” He bends his head and licks at my cleavage, making me giggle.
“Cannon, no. Don’t you want to ride the London Eye? Go to Buckingham Palace? Check out the Tower of London? Cruise the River Thames?” I can hardly think, what with the way he keeps massaging and kneading my breasts. I feel like I’ve become his personal playground and he never wants recess to end.
“If that’s what you want to do, I’m game. But if you want to stay in this room all day and mess around, I’m game for that too. Wherever you are is where I want to be.” He slips his fingers beneath my chin and tilts my head up so our gazes meet. His eyes are sincere, and full of a sort of longing too. “It seems like all we do is mess around, but I want you to know that I see beyond the sex stuff.”
“The sex stuff?” I sort of want to laugh at what he’s saying, he’s so cute.
“Yeah. I see you.” He drops a quick kiss on the tip of my nose. “And I like you. You’re sweet and you’re funny and you’re…genuine. That’s what I like best about you. There’s nothing fake here. What I see is what I get.”
“I’m a mess,” I confess, suddenly embarrassed. My cheeks are hot at his thoughtful words. I guess I don’t take compliments very easily. “I look terrible after last night’s…escapades.”
“You look beautiful. You are beautiful, inside and out.” This time he kisses me on the lips, a slow, lingering kiss that steals my breath. “You’re right. Let’s go out and see the sights for a little bit. Like that London Eye thing.”
My head is swimming at all of the sweet things he just said to me, and I try to focus.
“I’ve never been on it,” I confess.
“Really?” He sounds surprised.
“Why should I? I live here. That’s a tourist trap,” I explain.
“Well, today we’re going to play at being tourists, you and me. Show me your city, Susanna.” He cups my cheeks and kisses me, cradling my face like all dreamy boyfriends in rom-coms and romance novels do, and I practically melt into the bed at the tender gesture.
I don’t know what I did to deserve his attention, but I’m going to revel in it for as long as I can.
“The view up here is spectacular!” Susanna braces her hands on the glass like a little kid, staring at the massive city spread out before us. She glances over her shoulder to flash me a huge grin before returning her attention to the city. “You can see everything!”
I come up behind her, slipping my arms around her waist and resting my chin on her shoulder. “And you said you didn’t want to come on the London Eye.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to, I just…never have. Only tourists come here,” she says, her lips still curved as her gaze meets mine. “I’m glad you wanted to go.”
“I’m glad you brought me.” I give her a squeeze and kiss her cheek, then release her, my own gaze snagged on the city. We’re in one of those glass capsules that spin around the Eye, giving us 360-degree views of London, and there are at least twenty other people in the capsule with us. A few of them are staring at me like they might recognize me, but I don’t know.
Maybe I’m just paranoid.
Once we came up with a plan for our day, Susanna showed me the photos of us on the internet. I was floored someone cared enough to mention my name in a gossipy article. Back home, I rarely get any type of media attention, and when I do, it’s usually tied to Tuttle. We played on the same high school team, so the media loved to mention that connection, especially during our first couple of seasons.
Now, though, I don’t stand in the spotlight much, and I’m fine with it. I don’t need a lot of attention. I just want to play ball and get paid the big bucks to do it. I’m a lucky son of a bitch and I know it.
Today, I feel even luckier than usual, and that all has to do with Susanna.
She’s wandering around the capsule too, snapping endless photos on her phone. I take one of her, catching her off guard, and she shoots me a playful glare as she makes her way toward me.
“I bet I look horrible in that photo you just took,” she accuses, reaching for my phone.
I hold it above my head, out of her reach. “Let’s take one together then.”
She stands just in front of me and I dip my head so our cheeks are pressed close. Holding the phone out in front of us, I snap a bunch of selfies, silently marveling at how beautiful she looks at this very moment. Her eyes are sparkling and her cheeks are pink, and her hair is the slightest bit wavy.
Thinking About You Page 9