Private Player

by Louise Bay

  “A time-out?” She knew what I meant. She must have thought about it too. Hadn’t she?

  “I want to kiss you,” I said. It wasn’t the right thing to do, the right thing to want, but that didn’t stop the need burning through me. I’d been pushing it down, fighting it off, but it kept coming back.

  “This article—”

  “Fuck the article,” I said. I cared about it, of course I did—it could impact my entire future, and hers. But right now, it felt like we’d escaped reality for a few hours and could exist outside consequences. “I want you.”

  “Because I was talking to your brother?”

  I shifted my chair so our knees were touching. “Jacob had no business flirting with you.”

  “Is this some weird competitive shit you do? Like if he flirts with a girl, you have to prove you can sleep with her?”

  “Is that what you think?”

  “I don’t know what to think. We had a deal and—”

  “I’m not trying to win some territorial pissing contest, I assure you. But seeing you talking to Jacob made me realize that I don’t want you to have a time-out with anyone else.” I trailed my thumb across her jaw. She didn’t move away. I wasn’t used to having to convince a woman to be with me. Hadn’t she said she thought I was sexy? I’d assumed the only reason we hadn’t given in to each other before now was because of what was at stake.

  I could see her thinking, thinking, thinking. Analyzing, turning things over in her brain.

  “I mean, I like this,” she said, glancing down at our linked hands. “And I like you. And that night at the wedding . . . I liked that.”

  I chuckled, half relieved that the connection I felt between us wasn’t entirely one-sided, half completely charmed by the way her brain liked to work through ideas.

  I sat forward and pulled her on to my knee. She held on to my arms as if she was trusting me not to drop her. “So maybe Norfolk is a good place to like each other. No one would ever find out. It’s totally private here—”

  “Oh my God.” She pulled her hand away and covered her face. “I’m not getting naked with you in your parents’ house. There’s no way.”

  Thank God the house didn’t have more bedrooms. “I’m in the office if you remember. Not the house.” I pulled her hands from her face and placed a kiss on her wrist. “I want to peel off your clothes,” I said, dropping a kiss on her collarbone as her hands slid up my chest. “And kiss every single inch of you.” It felt good to say it, to let it out.

  She bit down on her plump, red, bottom lip. “Just a time-out,” she said. “Once we get back within the M25, our deal is back on?”

  She looked at me, her eyes full of anticipation.

  I just nodded. I’d agree to any of her terms right now, even if I wasn’t entirely sure I’d want to go backward after another night with Madison. “If that’s what you want.”

  “That’s what we both want, right?” she asked, fingering the opening of my shirt. “I mean, our careers are on the line. This isn’t turning into anything. It’s just . . . physical. Like exercise.”

  Christ, I’d thought I was the least romantic person on the planet. “I hope it’s going to be a little more enjoyable than a spin class.”

  “It better be,” she replied.

  “Now I have something to live up to.”

  I held her at her waist as I stood and pulled her hand into mine, leading her down the garden toward the office.

  Anticipation danced in my veins. My heart lifted in my chest and beat against my ribcage, getting louder with every step. The moment we reached the office, I grabbed her by the waist and pressed her back against the small-paned door.

  “I’ve been waiting to do this for an awfully long time,” I said, pressing my hips against her and cupping her face as I swept my thumb across her cheekbone.

  She looked nervous. But she needn’t be. Norfolk was a long way away from London and the responsibilities of our respective careers. Here we could pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. I pressed my lips to hers and my entire body unlocked and relaxed as if I’d finally made it home after a long and grueling journey.

  Her lips were soft and plump and perfect and just how I’d remembered them. Her hand circled my wrist as if holding me back from possessing her. I’d be patient, but all I wanted to do was rip off our clothes and see her beautiful, naked body as quickly as possible.

  “Nathan,” she sighed, sweeping her hand over my chest. “Are you sure?”

  “Do you have any doubt?” I asked. Surely, she couldn’t.

  She shook her head. “It’s just . . . I don’t know how I’m going to keep it all in if we step into that room.”

  “I don’t want you to hold back when you’re with me,” I said, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

  “That’s not what I mean.” And before I got a chance to ask her to explain, she turned, opened the door, and pulled me inside.

  “If you’re not sure . . .”

  “I’m in no doubt that I want you, Nathan.” She sat on the sofa bed that had been made up and began to undo her navy sandals so matter-of-factly, we could have been discussing that day’s agenda.

  “Then what is it?”

  She patted the bed next to her. “It’s nothing. I’m a grown-up. I want this.” She pushed her fingers through her hair and it was as if she had clasped her hand around my cock; my breath hitched and my balls tightened. “You’re so handsome,” she said.

  “I thought tonight that maybe blonds were more your type.”

  She grinned as she pressed a kiss to my jaw. “Green isn’t a good color on you.” Then she kissed along my jawline again and again, and the memory of her talking, laughing, sharing things with my brother began to blur at the edges.

  I eased her back onto the bed, pushing up her shirt and slipping it off. I pressed my lips to the soft flesh just above her belly button. She was so fucking delicious and I wanted to feast on her. I worked my way up her body with one kiss after another before finally reaching her mouth.

  “You’re perfect,” I said.

  She smiled, her eyes a little hooded, her mouth a little lazy. “You know that’s not true.”

  I’d never met anyone so hard on themselves. I was used to the rambunctious confidence of my brothers. Perhaps it was because I’d not had sisters, or because I was surrounded by self-assured doctors. “To me. Right now. It is.”

  I traced her collarbone with my fingertip, back and forward, enjoying the shiver it elicited from her, mesmerized by her warm softness. I was determined to draw the evening out, to extend our time together for as long as possible.

  “Before I forget to tell you, I cancelled lunch with that Craig twat who tried to steal your story.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are you serious? If you’d have said that, we would have been on this bed naked thirty minutes ago.”

  I laughed and she put her finger to my lips.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “That means a lot to me.”

  “That’s why I did it.”

  Her hand slid around my neck as our eyes locked for seconds, minutes, maybe days before eventually, I slipped my palm down her stomach to the button of her jeans. She caught my hand. “This isn’t going to be one of those situations where I end up naked and you’re still fully clothed.”

  “One of those situations?” I asked. “There has only been one situation before right now.”

  “Exactly.” She pushed up onto her elbows. “Come on, Cove. Get naked.”

  I shook my head and grinned at her. I wasn’t sure any woman had ever ordered my clothes off. But then again, Madison Shore wasn’t just any woman.

  “Can you handle it?” I asked.

  She laughed as I stood and began to strip off my polo. “You think I may faint at the sight?” she asked. “I’ve felt that naked body of yours, remember. Had it pressed against me,” she said. “Enjoyed your muscles meeting mine. And I know, as good as you look . . .” Her eyes scanned my torso, goos
ebumps trailing in the wake of her gaze, and settled on my crotch. “It isn’t as good as you feel.”

  Gah. The way she looked at me. Her words. The anticipation of her tongue, her fingers, her sweet, tight cunt chased my breath from my lungs.

  “Nathan?” she asked, sitting up, her legs dangling from the end of the bed.

  I shook myself out of the Madison trance I’d slid into.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I replied, unzipping my jeans.

  She placed her hand over mine as if to ask me again.

  “It’s just, I really like you,” I confessed. I liked the way she thought. The way she laughed and the way she touched me. I liked the way her conker-brown eyes gave way to a dazzling gold when she was tired or a little drunk. And even though the Post profile was a complete nuisance, I missed her when she wasn’t hounding me with questions.

  A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth and she reached for me. I stepped forward and she slipped her hand over my hip.

  If I could have controlled the jutting of my cock, I would have. I wasn’t telling her I liked her because I wanted to fuck her. Although, I definitely wanted to fuck her. They weren’t words of seduction.

  It was just the truth.

  She glanced down at my cock and back up at me.

  I gave a small shake of my head. I wasn’t asking for a blow job.

  “I want to,” she said.

  I held back a groan at her words as she brought her hands behind her and unsnapped her bra. The noise I’d been holding back ripped through me as her pale breasts spilled free. The rosy points of her nipples drew me in and I reached for her, cupping a breast with each hand, sweeping the pads of my thumbs over the sharp knurls.

  It was so good to finally feel her, to have my hands full of her. My cock reared up, and she caught it in her fist, sliding her grip down to my base. I tipped my head back, giving myself up to the moment. I was so full of need. The need to touch, to kiss, to fuck. The need to get closer. The need for Madison.

  This woman. This fucking woman.

  She squeezed and released me, and I pinched her nipples in payback. If only she could know how good it felt to have her hands on me. She gasped, shivered, and shifted her hips before bowing before me and licking one long stroke from her hand to my tip. Then she looked up at me and wet her lips with a long, slow circle of her tongue. She bent and took the crown in her mouth, suckling lightly before taking me deeper and deeper and deeper.

  She moaned as I sank farther into her hot, wet mouth, the vibrations pinballing around my body and setting off sparks of heat. A rush of blood throbbed into my cock, getting me so hard I thought I might explode down her throat that very second.

  I released her breasts. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t touch her, have her moan in response, and keep myself under control. I tensed my jaw but it wasn’t enough—the press of her lips as she pulled away and sank yet deeper still, the swirl of her tongue, the press of her fingers, the way she swallowed as she took me so deep. It was all. Too. Much.

  “Fuck.” I raised my hands to my head, powerless and completely under her spell.

  She pulled off me with a pop. “I love having you in my mouth,” she said, daintily wiping the corner of her mouth as if I was her favorite food. “I love sucking you off.”

  It was official. She was trying to kill me.

  “I love that you’re enjoying it,” I replied, dizzy from her mouth and trying to bring the room back into focus.

  She shifted on the bed and I realized she was undoing her jeans. “I have to get these off,” she said. “I’m so wet.”

  Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

  She peeled off the rest of her clothes and resumed her position in front of my throbbing dick, splaying her thighs, giving me just a glimpse of heaven. I wasn’t sure I could take much more, but I didn’t get to where I had by giving up.

  The outline of her parted mouth, pouting and full, looked as if it had been conceived by a baroque painter. Her eyes tonight were burnished gold with brown edges that flickered in the moonlight. I wanted to dive into the orange-scented, soft curls of her hair. She reached for my cock and I cupped her face. “You’re beautiful.”

  She stared at me as if she was waiting for the “but.”

  “Beautiful,” I reiterated, crawling over her so she lay back under me.

  “Nathan,” she said, placing a palm on my chest, her heat dissolving into mine.

  “I mean it,” I said.

  She shook her head.

  “Yes,” I replied. “So beautiful.”

  I pressed my lips to hers, once and then twice and then faster and harder. I rested the base of my cock between her folds, warmth finding warmth while our tongues met. I couldn’t properly remember our kiss from before. The memory was fuzzy at the edges, filled with champagne and the need to escape whatever it was both of us had been running from, but this kiss tonight I wouldn’t—couldn’t—forget. It felt so completely necessary, as if not kissing her would be ruinous for us both. This kiss was binding. Curative. This kiss was salvation.

  Instinctively, our bodies began rocking together, friction creating more heat between us. The need to be inside her washed through me in waves that crashed against each passing second.

  “Have you got a condom?” she asked, as if she was feeling the exact same thing. I reached for my wallet and pulled one out.

  “Get it on. Quickly.” Desire tinged her words.

  I clenched my jaw. Her eagerness. Her need. Her impatience. I’d never wanted a woman more.

  I rolled on the condom, my fingers shaking with the adrenaline racing around my body, desperate for release.

  I stood between her legs, pushed them wide and pressed my thumbs into her folds, parting them, wanting to see more than just a glimpse of how worked up she was. She moaned at my touch as her needy, swollen clitoris pushed out, begging for my attention.

  Later.

  I pressed my crown against her entrance and she covered her face with her hands. “Please,” she begged.

  This girl. This fucking woman. What was she doing to me?

  I pushed in, slowly, all the time keeping my gaze fixed on her: her nipples, tight and beaded and straining. Her hips, jutting forward like a puppy on a leash. As I reached the center of her, I luxuriated in the slow, strangled whimper that pulled from her throat.

  “Feels so good,” she choked out.

  I reached for her wrists and pulled her hands from her face. I needed to see her.

  Our eyes locked and reluctantly, I dragged my cock from her. The space left in my chest at not being as deep into her as I needed to be was flooded with pleasure at the perfect feel of her squeezing me so tight. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Madison,” I chanted as I pushed in, trying to get into some kind of rhythm I could lose myself in. But every image, every feeling was so sharp, so complete and bright and completely consuming, that I couldn’t concentrate for long before my mental walls crumbled and I was again overcome by the moment. By this woman underneath me, looking up at me as if I’d created the moon just for her.

  I wish I had.

  Her knees slid along my hips to my waist, as if trying to keep me steady. She offered me a small grin. “It’s so good. Was it this good before?”

  It was as if we were two halves of the same person. Every thought I had, she voiced.

  Had it been this good before? I wouldn’t have forgotten if it had been. Surely.

  I pushed in sharply in response and she tipped her head back and gasped, exposing her long, creamy throat. I leaned forward, pressing my tongue in the dip between her collarbones and licking up. Her fingers threaded through my hair and she slid her hands lower as we rolled over so she was straddling me.

  Would this help? Would I be able to keep myself from exploding into her if she was in control?

  She sat up, her palms pressed against my chest, her knees wide as she took my dick deeper.

  The view of her breasts, the way her hair tumbled over her
shoulders—this was a disaster. She was a goddess.

  “Take it slow, okay?” I said to her. I couldn’t remember ever asking a woman to take it slow before. I was used to being able to control myself.

  “You’re telling me you’re a one-and-done kind of guy? I know you better than that.”

  I grinned at her. In some ways it felt as if Madison knew me inside and out. And now we were discovering each other physically.

  “Absolutely not. I just want every orgasm to count. For both of us.” I didn’t want to rush this. I wanted to fuck her all night long until we were too sore to walk and too exhausted to speak.

  “I don’t know if I can hold back,” she said. “I’m so close.” Her voice was heavy as she shifted her hips back and forward.

  I placed my hands around her waist, hooking my thumbs under her hip bones, and rocked her forward and back in small, smooth, pleasurable movements, a simmer of sensation that pulled us both back from the brink.

  “I want to stay like this forever,” she said, sweeping her hands down her body, along my arms as I continued to rock her.

  Her words notched up my desire, like a plane in a holding pattern ascending to a new height. Her fingers went to her clit. “I’m so, so, so close,” she said again.

  My dick throbbed, the holding pattern broken as my desire shot skyward toward the sun.

  I pushed her hand away and pressed the length of my fingers above her mound against her g-spot, my thumb circling her clit.

  Eyes closed, she started to shiver, her breathing choppy and desperate as her climax overtook her. I kept rocking her back and forward, relief mixed with urgent need shooting through my limbs. She tipped her head forward and opened her eyes, and I wasn’t quite sure what I saw—was it satisfaction, appreciation, realization?

  Whatever it was, I couldn’t hold on any longer.

  I thrust my hips forward, desperate to get as deep, as close as possible, and groaned out her name as I came.

  Twenty

  Madison

  I didn’t have to fake the grin I had on my face as I stepped into the warm, busy kitchen, full of the smell of baking bread and coffee.