My fingers find the hook on her bra and it’s still easy to unfasten it without looking, even though I’m extremely out of practice. Her bra straps fall from her shoulders as my mouth pulls away from hers. I keep my eyes on hers at first, giving her the chance to change her mind. Instead, she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as if she’s awaiting my approval. My eyes slowly fall past her plump lips, make their way down her slender neck, and finally rest on her chest. Her breasts are perky, with her nipples standing at attention. My mouth waters just from gazing at them. There’s an ache in my stomach, and it’s urging me to reach out and touch them, massage them, taste them.
I fall to my knees in front of her, with my palms moving up to cup them. They feel heavy in my hands—so soft and perfect. I don’t even remember making the decision to taste them, but the next thing I know, her hard nipple is in my mouth and my tongue is flicking against it. Her fingers thread through my hair, pulling and tugging as her breathing becomes harder and more ragged.
My lips kiss their way lower, down her flat stomach, as my fingers begin to unbutton her skirt. Moments later, it falls to the floor and she’s in nothing but a pair of black lace panties. As I’m kissing my way to her hips, my fingers brush against her core. Her wetness is soaking through the lace. I breathe her in deeply and she smells as sweet as I’d dreamed she would.
“Drake,” she whispers my name. Her hands are shaking as they move up to cup my jaw.
I open my eyes and look up at her. She looks scared and nervous. Suddenly, I’m wondering if this is her first time.
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, even though it pains me.
“No,” she replies with a slight shake of her head. She falls to her knees, placing her at eye level now. Slowly, she kisses me. It’s a soft kiss, so different than how we were just kissing. Her hands move to my chest and she pushes me back until I’m sitting down in front of her. I watch her for a moment. She watches me. Something is changing between us—charging.
Her hands reach for the waistband on my jeans and they’re shaking as they unfasten my belt. I reach out—pulling her on top of me—and our lips meet once again. Rolling us over, I take my place on top, between her parted knees. Her hands are on my hips, pushing down my jeans as she kisses me passionately. My hands begin pushing her panties down her long legs. I hear the sound of fabric tearing, but don’t think anything of it, and neither does she. When my jeans are down to the middle of my thighs, I spring free, resting against her core. She’s so wet for me, I glide against her with ease.
“I don’t have a condom,” I say against her lips, hoping she stops me, but praying she doesn’t. I haven’t had a use for condoms in years, and the last couple months that Casey and I were together, we didn’t even use them since we both wanted kids.
“I have one in my purse,” she says, causing me to pull away and look around on the floor for her purse. I find it by the door. She must’ve dropped it there when she walked in. I grab it quickly by stretching. I refuse to remove myself from her completely, fearing it might break the spell for her.
“It’s in the small zippered pocket on the inside,” she says, removing her boots and kicking her panties the rest of the way off.
I pull the zipper open and there’s the condom. I quickly grab it and toss the purse to the side. I open the foil packet with my teeth and quickly slide on the condom before taking my place on top of her again. Her hands tangle into my hair, pulling my mouth to hers. She raises her hips, causing me to glide between her folds. My hands rest on her hips, holding her still.
“Please, Drake, I need this. I need you,” she pleads against my lips. I can feel her knees shaking on either side of my hips.
I can’t stand to listen as she begs for something I want just as badly. Without warning, I push my hips forward and slide deep inside her. Her whole body tenses and she sucks in a large gulp of air. I push in the rest of the way and melt into her. She’s so hot—so tight around me. She’s my own special version of heaven. I’ve never in my life felt something so good. Not with any other woman I’ve been with. Not even Casey.
Already, my release is aching to explode, but I refuse to let it go. No way can this end so soon. No way will I allow it to end before dawn. If I know one thing and one thing only, it’s that I will make this last as long as possible. I won’t stop until she’s begging me. I won’t leave her until I’ve had her in every way possible. If this is a once-in-a-lifetime shot, then I won’t let it end until we’re both done with each other once and for all.
7
Celeste
I wake in the morning, but I don’t open my eyes. Honestly, I don’t want to be awake yet. My body is sore from last night’s dancing and my stomach is doing flops from the stupid amount of alcohol I consumed. And . . . I had the best dream ever. A dream where Drake and I came together in the most delicious way possible. Maybe if I don’t open my eyes, I’ll be able to find my way back to that dream.
My head starts pounding and my body is begging for me to find a bathroom. I want to stomp my foot. I don’t want real life right now! I want that dream. I want to be lost in Drake—but from a safe distance since I know I’d be a moth to his flame.
I hear a groan from behind me and my eyes pop open as fear consumes me. Who’s in my room? Did I bring someone home last night? No way. That’s not my style What the fuck? Wait . . . I don’t remember coming home last night. My eyes strain against the bright light of the sun that’s streaming through the window. I’m momentarily blinded. Slowly, everything comes into focus.
The first thing I see is a wooden coffee table. Then my eyes move up to a recliner and a large window. I push myself up into a sitting position and find Drake beside me. A blue blanket barely covers him from the waist down. His chest is bare and he has his forearm thrown over his eyes, shading them from the bright sun. I look down at myself and find that I’m completely naked. My body flushes with embarrassment and shame.
“Wha—? No, no, no, no, no, no,” I whisper, shaking my head back and forth as I look at myself, at Drake, and around the room trying to piece things together. My dream wasn’t a dream! It was real. I followed him home. I seduced him. I slept with him—my client! God, everything is going to be so fucked up now. How can we pretend this didn’t happen? How can we work together with this huge secret between us? What if he fires me? What if I have to return home a failure? How could I have let this happen?
I have to get out of here. I look around me and find my clothes on the floor. I tug on my shirt—skipping the bra—and then pull on my skirt. I pull my ripped panties up my legs beneath my skirt and start crawling around on my knees, looking for my socks. I have to get out of here right now, before he wakes up. I can’t face him. Not now. Not after this.
“Don’t freak out, Celeste,” he says, voice deep and even.
“What?” I breathe out, turning to face him. He’s still lying on the floor, but his arm is on his forehead now, blocking the sun from shining in his eyes, which are locked on mine.
“We got wasted. It happens.” He shrugs. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He sits up and runs his hands through his dark hair.
My mouth drops open as my head shakes. “I . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t do . . . this.” I say motioning between us. I try to stand up, but end up tripping and falling back to my knees. He catches me and pulls me back to his chest. He rolls us over quickly so he’s hovering on top of me. He may as well have poured ice-cold water on me. Every muscle tenses beneath him. His weight feels good, but it also feels wrong. So wrong.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. I think we both knew there was an attraction the night we met. Last night, we acted on it. Simple as that.” The way he says those words is so completely unfazed, like what we did wasn’t a big deal. But it’s a big deal to me.
“I don’t do this, Drake,” I say sternly.
“Yeah, you made that clear already,” he says, running his lips up my neck.
/> “I don’t sleep with men I don’t know. I don’t put my job in jeopardy. I don’t complicate things like this. This isn’t me.”
He offers a cocky smile. “I think I got to know you pretty well last night, Celeste.” He drags the tip of his nose along my jaw. “And to be honest, I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”
I push him away and get to my feet, looking down on him. He lets out a loud laugh. It’s like a slap to my already sore ego.
“The rules have been broken,” he says. “We can’t pretend like they haven’t.”
“Yes, we can, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do,” I argue as I pull on one of my boots.
“Suit yourself,” he says, standing up and letting the blanket fall as he does so. He’s standing in front of me, completely naked and erect. Holy shit, his cock is like a python. How the hell did that girthquake monster fit inside me?
“You know where I’ll be,” he says, turning and walking down the hallway. His perfect ass is the only thing my eyes can lock on. He has two dimples on his lower back—one on each side of his spine. His thighs are toned and his ass may as well be a peach that’s asking me to take a bite. My stomach tightens and I think a whimper escapes. I fucking love peaches.
“Stop gawking and take what you want, Celeste,” he says, turning to look at me with a grin before walking into another room. Moments later, I hear the shower turn on and I collapse onto the floor, still holding one boot.
How the fuck did this happen? How could I have let it happen? Why do I still want it even though I know it’s wrong? Memories from last night start to wash over me. He knew what this was. I knew what this was. It was a hookup, plain and simple. We weren’t deluded. We didn’t think it would be the start of some epic romance. We’re both adults—adults who have an undeniable attraction to each other. As long as we can keep work and play separate, why should there be a problem?
But I already know the answer to my own question: because this is the real world and someone always ends up hurt. He’s already hurt. I don’t want to hurt him again when I have to leave in a year. This could never work out and we both knew it before we did what we did last night.
I quickly gather my things and run for the door. Not saying goodbye isn’t polite, but no way can I walk into a bathroom where he’s naked. Actually, I don’t think I could even face him right now. My head is pounding and my stomach is turning. My entire body is sore, and I now have this built-up anxiety inside of me. I just need to get away. I need to clear my head and think things through.
I refuse to let myself think about him on my drive back home. I refuse to let myself think of anything other than how sick I’m feeling. The bright sun doesn’t help the headache, and the bouncy roads don’t do anything but mix up the contents of my stomach. Walking into my motel room, I head straight to the bathroom to empty what’s left of it. After five minutes of vomiting up the entire bar I drank last night, I flush the toilet and reach for my toothbrush. As I brush my teeth, I turn on the water and fill the tub completely, adding in some Epsom salt and bath oils. I need to unwind and relieve some of the soreness in my muscles.
Sinking into the hot water, I wonder if I’m sore from dancing or from having sex with Drake. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the sack with someone, and from what I can remember from last night, he was a monster in bed. Just thinking back on the night has my stomach tightening and my thighs squeezing together beneath the water. I lean my head back and close my eyes, hoping to clear my head and constant thoughts. Unfortunately, the only thing that happens is I see flashes of our time together. I see him moving on top of me. I see the way he squeezes his eyes shut. I can feel his strong arms around me, holding me close and making me feel the safest I’ve ever felt. A heat consumes me from the inside out, and suddenly, the bathwater is too hot.
I wash off quickly and get out, needing to cool down. I pull on a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, then go in search of food. I’ve always been a big eater after drunken nights, and I’ve loved waking up and going for breakfast. Nothing cures a hangover better than a greasy breakfast. Sadly, I don’t have any of the items needed for a greasy diner breakfast, so I’m stuck with soup or microwavable food. I settle for a frozen breakfast bowl that contains scrambled eggs, potato chunks, sausage, cheese, and gravy. I toss it into the microwave and turn to prepare my bed for my lazy Saturday.
I flip on the TV and turn down the blankets. I grab a brush and begin running it through my hair as I grab an orange juice from the mini fridge. Two minutes later, my food is done and I’m snuggled up in bed watching Lost reruns while eating as much food as my stomach will hold. After gorging myself on breakfast bowls, chips, candy, and popcorn, I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
I spend the weekend on the down-low, hiding from everyone who possibly came in contact with me at the Spring Fling. I avoid Drake like the plague, too—no way am I ready to face him so soon. He must feel the same way, because he hasn’t called or texted me at all to see where we are on the plan or what the next step will be. Instead of facing my problems head-on, I avoid them for as long as possible.
When Monday morning rolls around, I can’t put it off any longer. I have to force myself from bed and into real clothes to head out into the world. You’d think that living in a town this small and so far away from home, I wouldn’t care if I made an ass out of myself. But I do. My reputation isn’t the only thing on the line here—it’s the reputation of the company I work for as well. I highly doubt Mr. Mason wants to hear about how I got a little too carried away at the Spring Fling, danced with every man in town, and then followed our biggest client home to seduce him. God, just thinking about it that way has my skin flushed with embarrassment. I just want to crawl back into my hole and stay there, so I never have to see the judging looks I’m sure to get when I walk out of here.
Pushing everything away, I leave my motel room and decide that I’ll test the waters by stopping at the local diner for some coffee and a muffin. Walking inside, everyone looks up, but I don’t see anyone whispering like what I thought would happen. I stop at the counter and have a seat. I’m only there a few minutes before the waitress is walking over with a kind smile.
“Good mornin’,” she greets.
“Morning. Can I get a cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin to go, please?”
“Sure thing.” She quickly walks away to prepare my order.
While I wait, I glance around the diner. Most of the old men sitting at the counter either tip their hats to me or offer up a friendly smile. The people sitting at the tables seem to ignore me completely. Maybe I’m not the talk of the town the way I thought I’d be. Maybe all the embarrassment and worry were for nothing.
The waitress places my order in front of me and I hand over a five before telling her to keep the change.
“Thank you. Have a wonderful day now.”
I grab my things and walk toward the door.
I drink my coffee and eat my muffin on the way to the brewery. I need to face Drake and talk about the next thing we can do to get the town on his side, however, that’s going to be hard to do when I’m avoiding him. He didn’t reach out all weekend. That tells me he took our agreement seriously. He’s accepting that it was just a one-night stand and he’s not expecting anything else. That makes me feel a little better, but I’m still embarrassed and ashamed of my actions. It never should’ve happened.
Finishing off my coffee, I put the car into park and look up at the building. My heart is pounding in my chest, and my breathing is erratic. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. With a surge of bravery, I push myself to keep going. I step out and walk across the parking lot, then open the big double doors. The woman at the front desk waves me on.
“I’ll let him know you’re on your way up,” she says as I pass.
I smile and nod once as a thank you, but I’m too afraid to say it, fearing I won’t have control of my voice. Nerves have taken over my body.
The elevator opens and a man st
eps off. I almost bump into him, then realize it’s Harrison. He must’ve just left Drake’s office. Great. That means we’ll be all alone up there.
“Good morning, Ms. Teller. How are you doing today?” he asks as he sidesteps me.
I nod and offer a smile. “As good as can be expected. Is he up in his office?” I point toward the ceiling.
He nods once. “He is. Please call down if you need me.”
On the ride up, I’m a nervous wreck. My stomach is doing flips, I’m sweating, and I can’t seem to stand evenly on my feet. Instead, I’m bouncing from one to the other. The elevator dings and the doors open more quickly than I would’ve liked. With a shuddering breath, I push myself forward, stepping into his office.
I find him sitting behind his desk, looking at whatever’s in front of him. His eyes are cast downward, determination etched on every feature of his face. Small lines surround his serious eyes, with wrinkles forming between them as he draws his brows together. His sharp jaw is cocked, and his soft lips are pressed together in a straight line. His shaggy dark hair is tucked behind his ears and his gray Henley shirt is pushed up to his elbows, exposing his larger-than-life forearms. I linger another second to fully take him in. Why am I drawn to this man like catnip? He’s big and thick all over—rough around the edges just like his big hands. Dammit, there I go again. Just the thought of those hands has me weak in the knees.
“You going to come in or stand there gawking?” he asks, not bothering to look up at me.
Billionaire's Unexpected Bride (Slade Brothers Book 1) Page 10