by M. S. Parker
“Ahhh…” It was half a moan, half some other sound entirely, but it wasn’t a conscious choice she made, simply the noise that escaped as Max eased the slick plastic shaft into her ass. She felt a faint burn, but nothing painful. More uncomfortable than anything else.
And then his fingers were in her pussy, relentlessly stroking her to an orgasm even as he fucked her ass with the dildo. She whimpered and gasped, closing her eyes to allow the sensations to wash over her. For an eternity, he stretched her ass even as he took her to the edge again and again, never letting her fall over it. She didn’t beg, knowing he’d tell her if he wanted her to, but it was almost impossible not to plead with him to let her come.
Without warning, her ass and pussy were both empty, and she felt the heat of him as he leaned over her back and put his mouth against her ear.
“Once my cock starts filling your ass, you can come as much as you want, say whatever you want. I want you to come apart underneath me, holding nothing back.”
She nodded again, body trembling with its need for release. When the head of his cock pressed against her anus, she knew she’d come the moment he penetrated her, pain or not. She needed it. Needed him.
He leaned forward and–
“Find anything interesting to read?”
Seventeen
Reb
I wished I had a camera. Not just because seeing Paige jump and look guilty when I spoke was one of the funniest things I’d seen in a long time, but because I wanted to lock in the memory of finding her like this.
Her cheeks were flushed, pupils dilated so wide that only a thin ring of blue-green was visible. She was embarrassed now, but I doubted that was the only reason she couldn’t look at me.
She was turned on. For a moment, I thought it was because she’d been thinking about me being in the shower, but then she set something on the table as she stood and I realized what she’d been doing.
Dammit, Erik.
If she hadn’t been reading that book, I probably could have let it go. I still should have let it go. We had to keep things professional. That was the only way this was going to work. We had to ignore any lingering chemistry between us. If there was even any left after the way I’d put her off the other night.
But my ability to say no to temptation was part of the reason I was in this mess in the first place.
“Like it?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “I can let the author know if there was anything in particular you thought was…stimulating.”
“You know her?” Paige asked, glancing toward the manuscript. She frowned, as if her question bothered her. “Never mind. It’s not important. I was just bored waiting for you, and it was there.”
“You looked like you were enjoying it.” I couldn’t resist. “I could come back later if you want to be alone…”
“Don’t be an asshole,” she snapped.
Damn, she was hot when she was pissed. Made me want to push her even more, see just how much she could take. That was the part of BDSM that attracted me the most. Testing limits. Not necessarily pain, but comfort levels.
Like going down on her in the back of a limo.
“Come on, Paige, no need to be embarrassed. I had it for a reason.” I walked toward her, knowing every step was a worse idea than the last.
But I didn’t stop.
“Because you…know Erika Summers?”
I grinned. “Is that jealousy I hear?”
She glared at me, crossing her arms, as if that would offer any sort of deterrent. If anything, it made matters worse because it drew my attention to her full breasts. I hadn’t gotten nearly enough of my fill of them.
“We already went down this road, Mr. Union,” she said, lifting her chin. “And I know you don’t want to go there again, so let’s just stick with business.”
“And if I’d rather focus on pleasure?” The words just popped out, but when I saw her blush again, I didn’t regret them. My friends’ words echoed in my head, louder than they’d been all day. I wanted her, despite what I knew, and despite all the reasons I’d given myself why I shouldn’t.
“Reb…”
My name was a warning, but the fact that she’d called me Reb instead of Mr. Union made me think that she wasn’t as opposed to the connection as she tried to seem.
“How far did you get? I’m sure Erik has all sorts of new ideas in there for you to think about.”
“Erik?” Her eyes widened.
Shit.
“As in your friend, one of the wealthiest men under thirty, Erik Sanders?”
I could tell by her face that she’d put it all together before she even finished the question.
He was going to kick my ass.
“He’s Erika Summers?” She looked down at the manuscript again. “That’s how he and Tanya met, isn’t it? The book deal wasn’t for some memoir or how to succeed in business thing. It was for Heat of the Sun.”
“You can’t tell anyone,” I said, making my face as serious as possible. “The only people who know are us guys, Sine, Savannah, Tanya obviously, and one or two other people at Branch Publishing. Even Erik’s sisters don’t know.”
“I won’t,” she promised. A flare of understanding lit in her eyes. “Is he into…I mean, him and Tanya…” Her cheeks flamed red. “You said Alix and Sine…”
“It’s not as uncommon as a lot of people think,” I said, the muscles in my shoulders tensing. “Does it make you think less of them?”
My question sounded like a natural follow up, but tension hummed through my body as I waited for her answer.
“No,” she said, giving me a steady look. “I may be a virgin, but I’m not a prude. I believe that, as long as things are between consenting adults, it’s not anyone else’s business what goes on, and certainly not anyone’s place to judge.”
I could see that she believed every word she said, but I knew all too well how words were easy enough to say when nothing was on the line. When I’d first talked to Mitzi about it, she’d acted like she was fine with it, but later, things changed.
“So, your opinion is that it’s fine for other people, but nothing you’d want to explore?” I mentally cursed myself as soon as the question was out of my mouth. That sounded like I was propositioning her.
She drew herself up to her full height and gave me the sort of look that said I’d gone too far. “I think we should stick with business-related conversation.”
I nodded even as my head agreed with my treacherous cock that they were more interested in getting an answer than talking business. I might have been trying all weekend to convince myself that I didn’t want to sleep with a virgin, but I’d also been coming up with some pretty good arguments about why it just might be more appealing than I realized.
Like the fact that I’d never have to wonder if another man had been able to make her come the same way, or if she was comparing me to some previous lover. For whatever amount of time we were together, I’d be able to know that I was the only man she’d ever given herself to. I’d be her first in every sense, the one to show her all the different ways she could find pleasure, to teach her the ways to please me.
I could implant myself so firmly in her mind that every other man who came after me would never be able to live up to the standard I’d set. She’d be completely and indelibly mine.
Eighteen
Paige
How had I thought I’d be able to talk to him like nothing had happened? Every time I looked at him, all I could think of was what it had felt like to kiss him, to touch him. The memory of his hands on my body, his mouth…it made every cell heat up, every nerve buzz with electricity.
Maybe coming here hadn’t been a complete mistake, but reading that book had been. The moment I realized what I’d been reading, I should have stopped. Not because there was something wrong with it, but because being turned on right now was making things even more difficult than usual.
“I talked to some people from work about forty minutes ago, and they’ve been a
nalyzing the coverage of you and the kids. You’re trending in the right direction, but that alone isn’t going to turn things completely around. What we need to do is show people that the negative press is the fluke, not this. They need to see that you’re a good guy who did something stupid.”
“And you have some ideas of how to make me a good guy?”
The question should have been flippant, especially considering he’d essentially been teasing me from the moment he’d come into the living room, but something under his words told me he wasn’t being as glib as he tried to sound.
Despite the fact that looking at him made me feel things I didn’t want to feel, I turned toward him. He needed to know this. “I don’t need to make you into a good guy. You already are one. I just need to get others to see it.”
He gave me a puzzled look. “You think I’m a good person? Even after–”
I sighed, my resolve to keep things professional already being put to the test. “You made some bad choices after your break-up, and did some stupid things, but that doesn’t make you a bad guy.”
“Yeah, but the other night–”
I held up a hand to stop him. “We don’t need to talk about that. It was impulsive, and the result of spending time together in a…charged environment. Neither of which will be happening again anytime soon.”
“I’m sorry I called you an ice queen and then joked about the whole virginity thing.”
I’d never really thought of myself as a person who was easily embarrassed, but this was getting to be a habit. “Reb, seriously, it’s okay. Let’s just get to work.”
He opened his mouth like he was going to argue, then closed it again when I glared at him. He nodded. “All right.”
“Good.” I turned away so he couldn’t see the relief on my face. Rehashing things would only make working with Reb more awkward. “The key to keeping the press on your side rather than them spinning things into a negative light is to make the experiences personal.”
“And how do we do that?”
“By figuring out what matters to you.” I did my best to fix on my professional face before I turned back to him. I would’ve used the same strategy with any client in a similar situation, but asking these questions of Reb felt a lot more intimate than it should have. “Obviously, music, but that’s the part of you people already know. We need to show them the man behind the music.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, flicking little droplets of water down onto his shirt. “What if music is all I am?” He gave me a sideways glance. “I haven’t been able to write for more than six months. What if I can’t ever write again and that’s the legacy I leave? A stalled career and bad decisions?”
“I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen.” I crossed over to him and put a hand on his arm. “I can’t help with the music, but we’re going to fix it so that these past couple months are only going to be a blip in an otherwise reputable career.”
“How?”
I took a step back and let my hand fall to my side. “Tell me about yourself. The things you like. What you’re passionate about.”
His eyes locked with mine for a moment, and I swallowed hard at the intensity I saw there. Then he was moving, turning away so he could walk over to the couch and take a seat. I stayed standing.
“I thought you did your research on me.”
“That can tell me facts, not beliefs.”
He studied me for a moment before answering. “My mom was a teacher’s assistant when she was married to my dad, so I’ve always had a weak spot for educational charities.”
“I’ve heard your mother talk about her time as a TA,” I said. “She doesn’t explain though why she was working when her family is certainly well-off enough that she doesn’t need a regular job.”
“My grandparents didn’t approve of her marriage to my dad,” he explained, his tone casual, as if this was something he’d gotten used to saying. “They eloped, actually. He was getting ready to be shipped overseas, and he wanted to make sure she was taken care of if something happened to him.”
“He was military?” I hadn’t been able to find much about Reb’s father, only that he was dead.
Reb nodded. “Special Forces. We weren’t allowed to know much about what he did, and even after he died on an assignment.” His mouth quirked in a sad smile. “I was sixteen.”
My heart squeezed, and it was hard not to go to him then. To comfort him. To make him think of only me. “Oh, Reb, I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” he said. “Losing him almost destroyed my mom. She’s always been proud of him, but she can’t talk about him much. Even after all this time, she hasn’t gotten over him.”
My heart broke even more for him, and for his mom. My mom had raised me alone, and my father had never been more than biology and a cautionary tale. She’d never dated anyone, barely showed any interest in romance, and she sure as hell hadn’t pined over any of the ‘rock gods’ she’d slept with.
I couldn’t imagine loving someone so much that the loss of them changed my world forever. Well, I loved my mother, but that was different. Kids expected to outlive their parents. But when someone made a vow to love someone until death parted them, they never wanted to think that they’d have anything other than a lifetime to fulfill it.
“My older sister is terrified that her daughters will join the military someday. My younger sister works with Doctors Without Borders in some of the worst places in the world because she thinks that’s what my dad would have wanted.” He stared down at his hands thoughtfully. “A few months after my dad died, I talked to a recruiter. I started working out so I’d be physically ready as soon as I turned eighteen, but I kept it to myself. I didn’t want to hurt my mom, but I felt like this was how I could honor my father.”
I moved closer but resisted the urge to touch him.
“Two months before my birthday, I was driving home from a party, and a drunk driver ran a red light. The crash didn’t do much damage, but I was stuck in the car. There was a fire, and I couldn’t get out. A guy driving by stopped and pulled me out before the car caught fire, but because he had to rush, he accidentally dislocated my left shoulder.” Reb’s hand rubbed his shoulder as if he could still feel the pain. “It was bad enough that it ended up keeping me from enlisting.” He looked up at me. “I’ve never told anyone that.”
I tried not to feel warm at the admission. It didn’t mean anything more than he found me easy to talk to. Like how someone might feel comfortable talking to a therapist. Nothing more.
I brought the conversation back to the matter at hand, not wanting to risk things going from personal to intimate. “I think I have enough to work with. I’ll have something set up for the end of the week.”
“Oh, okay. Good.” He stood, a troubled expression on his face for a few moments before disappearing. “I’ll keep the weekend free.”
“Friday too,” I said. “I’ll let you know as soon as I have something scheduled.”
He walked me to the door, opening it partway before stopping. “We should do something this weekend. Something besides work. I’d like to take you somewhere. A club. We can have some drinks. Dance. Loosen up some.”
I started shaking my head as soon as I realized what he was asking. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Professional, remember?”
“Think of it as a reward for hard work.” He gave me that irresistible smile. Not the plastic one he threw out to reporters, or even the polite one he had for fans. No, this was the smile that had made me melt into a puddle of malleable goo.
I sighed. “Let’s see how things go first.”
He beamed, and I mentally cursed myself for not being able to say no to him. As I left, I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to do well on his next project or not. One option was definitely safer for me, but rooting for him to excel wasn’t only for professional reasons. It wasn’t even all because I wanted him to do well.
Even though I’d given myself repeated warnings, I still wa
nted him.
Nineteen
Reb
I slid my hand over the curve of her hip, then dug my fingers into her flesh to hold her in place as I slid inside. She was tight and wet and hot, everything I’d imagined and better. She moaned and whimpered, the sounds making me even harder. Everything had been building toward this moment, all the dancing around and flirting, the tension.
I reached out and took her hair, wrapping it around my fist. I pulled her head up so that I could see her expression in the mirror in front of us. So I could watch every nuance…
I jerked awake, my heart racing and my breathing ragged. The central air pumped cold air into the guest room, but my skin was still damp with sweat. I tossed the sheet aside, glowering down at the erection tenting my boxers. Of course, I had to have an erotic dream the night before I was supposed to see Paige again. Because it wasn’t difficult enough to not get a fucking hard-on whenever I was around her.
I stretched my arm out and snagged my phone from the bedside table. The alarm I’d set was still ten minutes from going off, but I knew that it wouldn’t do any good for me to lounge in bed until it did. It made more sense for me to spend a little extra time in the shower. My hand wasn’t exactly the attention my cock would’ve preferred, but it was the quickest way to solve my problem.
Paige’s text had only given me a time and an address, not an explanation of what the place was or what I’d be doing, so I was surprised when the taxi dropped me off in front of The Kamden McBride Foundation, a private organization that worked with veterans.
How had Paige figured out that I was connected to this place? No one knew about my yearly anonymous donations. I hadn’t even told my mom or sisters about it. I supposed Paige could’ve followed the money, but that would’ve taken some serious resources. Unnecessary ones at that since all she would’ve needed to do was ask me. It didn’t fit with what I knew about her. And Chester couldn’t have told her because he managed me, not my money, and certainly not my inheritance.